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墨書 Inktalez
Alexey, the Russian exiled poet, gained notoriety for allegedly plotting to assassinate the Tsar. He was born into an aristocratic family in Moscow, and in his youth, he was handsome and talented. He wrote many poems, translated numerous works, and even founded a highly influential literary magazine. He once believed he would become a great poet. He once thought he would have a bright future. However, he lost it all. During the revolution, he fled to Germany and later escaped to France. Now, he has nothing. He makes a living by writing columns for newspapers. Every night, he drinks at taverns until late into the night. Each day, he reminisces about the good times of the past. He longs for the happiness he once had. He dreams of returning to that beautiful country, to his prosperous homeland. He misses the grasslands, forests, and rivers there... He misses the fine wines, coffee, and cigarettes... He misses the young women, married women, and widows... He misses the songs, dances, and dramas... He misses the air, sunlight, and rain... He misses everything about that place.
Alexey hurriedly arrived at my apartment. I was pouring drinks, with bottles and cigarette butts piled up on the table. His brow was furrowed as he looked at me with disdainful eyes. I understood what he was thinking. He must be thinking: what a lavish life this woman leads! He must be thinking: this woman's bad habits of smoking and drinking are truly annoying!
He must still be thinking: compared to his late wife, she is truly vulgar and depraved...
I held a cigarette, lazily leaning back on the sofa.
Two men were serving me. One was Yulia, dressed in a black velvet nightgown, kneeling at my feet and massaging my legs. The other was a stranger, wearing an exquisite and expensive suit, handsome, wealthy, and charming.
I waved to Alexey, "Come in, we're waiting for you."
The stranger's appearance and demeanor were far more imposing than Alexey's; he resembled a towering mountain while Alexey was merely a stone at its base.
Overwhelmed by the man's presence, Alexey felt humiliated. He frowned and asked, "May I ask who this is?"
The man lifted his eyes and glanced at him. Those eyes were like an unfathomable lake—calm on the surface but with turbulent undercurrents beneath.
The man slowly spoke, "I am Charles." He elegantly extended his hand with a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
"I am Feng Alexey."
Alexey awkwardly shook his hand, his face looking quite grim.
Charles turned to me, his gaze softening, "Shirley, have you and Yulia forgiven me?"
"I swear I will never force you apart."
"I only wish to watch from afar, to see you both happy."
Alexey was a fool. He thought Charles was here to negotiate peace. He believed Charles wanted to use money to drive Yulia and me away. He thought Charles intended to trap us in a net.
He spoke earnestly, "Mr. Charles, I will protect them in the company of another gentleman to prevent you from doing anything bad."
I agreed.
Charles could not refuse my request. Thus, our quartet began.
Alexey felt the pressure mounting. His finances were not abundant, while Charles was clearly wealthier.
Charles took me to see plays, have dinner, listen to concerts, and attend balls...
While Alexey could only take us for walks in the park.
I knew he was troubled about money.
I knew he was jealous of Charles.
I knew he wanted to win.
I smiled and comforted him, "Dear Alexey, I don't care about money; what matters to me is the heart."
"I hope you can prove to me with your actions that you love me more than Charles does."
I toyed with the buttons of his shirt and whispered softly in his ear.
"For example, give me a beautiful piece of jewelry."
He blushed with excitement.
The next day, he gifted me a set of precious pink coral jewelry.
It was a treasure passed down through his family for generations.
He carefully opened the jewelry box and looked at me with anticipation.
However, I had long lost interest in these stones.
I waved my hand dismissively, "Give it to Yulia."
"She seems to like it a lot."
Alexey's face turned pale, his lips trembled: "Shirley, this is a gift for you!"
I glanced at him, "I know."
"I just think Yulia might need it more."
He looked at me angrily: "Shirley, you are really disappointing me!"
I laughed, "Oh, really?"
"I'm so sorry about that."
I shrugged and pulled Yulia away.
Leaving Alexey standing alone, holding the jewelry box, looking extremely upset.
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