Chapter 8 Beauty, Luxury Cars, and Stinky London Seeking Collection

  New book uploaded, begging for collection and kneeling for recommendation

  Zhu Jishi didn't feel tired until the second half of the night, and when he returned to his room, he lay down on the bed with his clothes still on. He couldn't sleep, so he thought about his future plans, but all he felt was uncertainty. Then, he took out his iPhone 5, which stored photos of Ye Yiren and his family back in his hometown. Zhu Jishi opened his phone and looked at the photos again and again until the screen showed a low battery signal, and only then did he reluctantly turn it off. He didn't have one of those fancy solar charging panels, but Ye Yiren's backpack had an iPhone 5 charger... however, this era hadn't invented generators yet...

  At the thought that his next "meeting" with his family might be decades later, Zhu Jishi's tears fell like pearls cut off from their string. He cried for half a night and only stopped when dawn broke, then went downstairs to the dining hall with red eyes to eat some breakfast.

  "Jason, are you alright?" The female countess, who had changed into a sapphire blue dress, asked softly as she looked at Joo-ji-se's red eyes.

  "No, nothing... Ah, how is Mr. Churchill? I haven't seen Dr. Blomberg around?" Zhū Jìshì awkwardly smiled and changed the subject.

  "Robert has recovered well, and early this morning, a carriage from Blenheim Palace came to take him away, accompanied by Dr. von Bronsart." The countess handed over 20 pounds in banknotes to Zuo Zisheng, smiling: "Robert paid 100 pounds in medical fees, Dr. von Bronsart took 50 pounds, and the rest is yours."

  The Countess had already paid ￡30 in advance to Mr. Ju last night, and with this ￡20, it just clears the account.

  "Thank you, Countess." Zhū Jìshì put away the pounds and smiled gratefully at the countess.

  "Call me Isabelle." The countess seemed to have a good impression of Zhū Jì Shì, but letting this woman who had caused Chǔ Pàng Zǐ and Wēi Hǎi Míng to draw their guns for a duel have a good impression on Zhū Jì Shì, really didn't know if it was good luck or bad luck.

  However, refusing a beautiful woman is not Zhu Jishi's consistent style. After finishing this breakfast, he felt that the relationship between him and the countess had become much closer, and it seemed a bit too enthusiastic.

  After breakfast, the Countess's steward, a fat old man named Abbernell, had the carriage ready. Unlike Blornstein, who was somewhat untidy in appearance, this fat old man looked very neat and tidy, with not a speck of dust on his clothes, and his hair and beard trimmed to perfection. The coachman was also Abbernell. The Countess's carriage was a bit old-fashioned, but it was comfortable to sit in, the interior was spotlessly clean, and there was even perfume sprinkled about. The Countess kept her promise to accompany Zuo Zisheng to London, and the two of them sat facing each other in the small carriage compartment, chatting and laughing all the way. With a beautiful woman by his side, Zuo Zisheng seemed to have temporarily forgotten his homesickness, and looked quite pleased with himself.

  ……

  The stench of feces wafted in through the carriage window, and Zhu Jishi couldn't help but lift the curtain to take a look outside. The streets were filled with vendors hawking their wares, pedestrians dressed in shabby attire, and beggars in tattered clothing.

  On both sides of the street, vegetables, meat, fruit, old clothes, smelly boots and all sorts of strange things were laid out everywhere. Next to enter Zhu's eyes was a sea of garbage, feces and flowing brown stinky ditches.

  The cries of the costermongers and the haggling of the crowd were still in his ears, and seemed to be unusually noisy. Looking up into the distance, the colour of the sky above London, the capital of the British Empire in 1842, was a dull grey, with no sign of blue sky or white clouds, as if shrouded in endless fog, and faintly visible were countless chimneys spewing out smoke.

  There were many horse-drawn carriages coming and going on the main street, so the speed was not fast, moving slowly forward. Zhu Jishi continued to observe London in 1842, this city was really different from the impression of London.

  He found that there were many children wandering on the street, and some vendors who set up stalls were not adults either. He furrowed his brow and asked the countess in the same carriage: "Have those kids finished school?"

  It was Countess Isabelle de Narbonne-Fritz who replied with a deep sigh: "They are all children of the poor! Where would they get the money to study? A little older and they will go to work in factories as child laborers, if pretty girls go to hang out in brothels, if nothing unexpected happens, they will become future social scum, some lucky ones may find a shortcut to high society...

  "Doesn't the government care? Shouldn't they be helping them?"

  Isabelle frowned slightly and looked at Zhū Jì Shì, as if sizing up an alien, "Does the government of your Russian tsar care about the lives and deaths of serfs?"

  "This... the Russian government is quite poor." Zhu Jishi smiled awkwardly. He thought to himself: "Isn't the Romanov dynasty reactionary? They wouldn't care about serfs, but this great British Empire claims to be a democratic constitutional monarchy, how can it not care about the lives of laboring people?"

  "In the words of those upper-class people in the Ormack Club, taxpayers' money is not used to support lazy people and social scum!" Isabelle Dernov shook her head and said in a low voice: "Although the British government's annual fiscal revenue of 900 million pounds comes from taxpayers, it has nothing to do with these poor people outside. Why should we serve them?"

  Zhu Jishi was stunned again and again. "Can't the ruling party be afraid that poor people will vote for the opposition party in the next election?"

  "What do you mean?" It was Isabel's turn to be taken aback. "How can the poor have the right to vote? Only citizens who pay taxes above a certain amount have the right to vote, and there are only over 200,000 such people in Britain, Jason... You don't even know this most basic common sense, do you?"

  It's really not! Zhu Jishi has never seriously studied history, so he doesn't know that the UK in 1842 was not a democratic country, but a country implementing bourgeois dictatorship. The poor had no right to vote, although they were petitioning and demonstrating under the agitation of socialists to fight for democratic rights of one person one vote...

  However, after being told by the countess, Zhu Jishi did not dare to continue inquiring about democratic constitutionalism, which was a reactionary... but it can't be said to be reactionary, because Marx and Engels were supporting the People's Charter movement for universal suffrage for British laborers at that time! So in 1842, democratic constitutionalism must have represented the universal values of social development, or else Marx and Engels would have been wrong! It was only with the progress of the times that by the 21st century, democratic constitutionalism would become a reactionary political system that would disrupt social order...

  In short, Zhu Jishi did not dare to discuss the issue of democratic constitutionalism with this female count again, but from time to time lifted the car window curtain and looked around at the capital of the British Empire, which seemed like a trash can.

  The carriage proceeded slowly, and soon they were on London Bridge, but it was not the modern bridge with two granite towers that people know today. Instead, it was a wooden bridge that looked quite old. The bridge was also very crowded, and the carriage moved slowly, almost slower than walking. However, this allowed Zhū Jì Shì to appreciate the scenery of the Thames River... which was actually not very beautiful at all. The river was black and emitted a pungent smell, and it didn't match up with the concept of a beautiful view. On both banks of the Thames were chimneys standing densely, and who knows how many factories were constantly pouring pollutants into the river day and night? On the surface of the water were masts and sails crowded together, and who knows how many wooden sailing ships were packed into the not-very-spacious Thames River? However, Zhū Jì Shì was completely ignorant about ship history, so he couldn't tell what types of ships these were. He just watched for the excitement of it all.

  After passing London Tower Bridge to the south bank of the Thames, and crossing a railway, the flow of cars and people seemed to decrease suddenly. The streets became wider and cleaner, there were no street vendors selling goods on the ground, and the houses on both sides of the road were more exquisite. The air was not very smelly either. It seems that this is an area where London's middle class and bourgeoisie gather.