Luo Ji was thoughtful when she closed the book. She didn't know at what point in time Schiller left such a line of text. It might have been after the situation in Asgard stabilized, or it might have been earlier, but it was different from Luo Ji's beginning.
In the end, the views were perfectly consistent.
The doctor has an amazing brain. Luo Ji has known this for a long time. Unlike others, Luo Ji knows better that those direct opinions do not come from some kind of superpower type of mind reading, but more like precision.
The result after analysis and judgment.
What exactly shaped his views?
The three sentences written in this book made Luo Ji even more curious about it. A smart person should always have a reason for being smart, and if he is as smart as Schiller, no one will believe him if he doesn't have a story.
.
Luo Ji put the book back to its original position and carefully erased the traces left by the move. She turned around and began to look at the room again.
The clinic itself in Hell's Kitchen is not big, and three rooms are crammed into it on the second floor, so the bedroom seems rather cramped. Even so, there are still two rows of bookshelves against the wall, a row of museum shelves, and a side wall.
The desk by the window and the bed do not occupy much area here.
The whole room has a woody brown tone, with some very light wood and ink smells, which should come from the books displayed on the desks. The most impressive thing is that all the tables and shelves in the room are filled with rare items.
Weird crafts.
In the eyes of Asgardians, these things in the room are not antiques, and according to Loki's taste, many of them do not have high commercial value and are more like small souvenirs.
There are even some toys that look like they were picked up randomly from somewhere.
Luo Ji could already imagine in her mind that wherever the doctor went, he would buy some small things in the local store and bring them back. Luo Ji even found a few asteroid fragments, which might be when the universe demons were fighting.
The shattered star was picked up by Schiller.
Perhaps in his spare time, Schiller would recall bits and pieces of his past from these items. When Luo Ji thought of this, she couldn't help but smile. This way of remembering the past is quite "human".
But if a person has a tower of thought that can store countless memory fragments in his mind, then the souvenirs are actually redundant, so this seems a bit childish and cutely clumsy, and it is not something that a normally shrewd doctor would do.
thing.
Luo Ji wanted to laugh when she thought that the Demon God's war was going on in the universe at that time, and Schiller, the mastermind behind everything, was neither strategizing behind the scenes nor directing the charge on the front line, but chasing after the Demon God to pick up souvenirs.
But this also satisfies a wonderful desire for voyeurism. If you can see the private side of a well-known perfect person, it will always give people a sense of superiority that I am different.
Luo Ji was always proud, and she always believed that she deserved the preferential treatment she received no matter where she was.
Just like now, she walked directly upstairs to Schiller's bedroom instead of turning around and leaving like Stark, so she naturally deserved these secrets. This was the reward for her wisdom and the right choice she made.
Luo Ji walked along the two rows of bookshelves on the wall. She found that the books on the bookshelves were mainly divided into several categories. One category was professional books, most of which were books on psychology and psychiatry, and the other category was folk books.
Miscellaneous stories, fantasy novels, and theoretical books related to literature, art and philosophy.
Luo Ji knew that the vast majority of human intellectuals were interested in philosophy, and if you wanted to study psychology, it was inseparable from the world view, so it was not surprising that Schiller would like to read philosophy books.
Just literature and art…
Luo Ji glanced at the books on the bookshelf. There were quite a few literary classics, including representative classics from various countries, but she couldn't see any special features. Luo Ji turned her attention to art books.
What surprised Luo Ji was that the scope of art books was very narrow, almost completely excluding music and dance and other art forms, leaving only fine arts, or plastic arts.
"What do you think of art? Ma'am."
On the vast and quiet ice sheet, Schiller wiped off the water drops on his hands with a sapphire blue towel. He had just put a young zander that was not very obedient into the water tank. The process was not very complicated, but
It was a little thrilling because as soon as the fish took the bait, it used its strong tail to knock the cigarette out of Natasha's hand.
The side of the female agent's right hand was still red, but she had already pulled out another cigarette as if she was impatient. She put the end of the cigarette into her mouth like a thirsty addict, biting the cigarette with her teeth.
, said vaguely.
"What type of art are you talking about? I dance ballet, and I even do it pretty well, but I don't think it's art, at least not to me."
"Russian ballet art is world-famous." Schiller said noncommittally: "It is different from French ballet. It is not like a circle of decorative lace sewn by extravagant celebrities on the edge of a materialistic era. It is more
Like a powerful statement against ice, snow and storm."
Natasha raised her eyes slightly in surprise, but quickly returned her eyes to her fishing rod, and then said: "I would like to accept this compliment from you on behalf of the Russian ballet dancers, but you actually
You know I don’t do ballet for art, right?”
"For interpretation? Art is mostly about interpretation."
"That sounds insightful, but I've never heard of you having any art education background or related hobbies, doctor." Natasha paused as if searching for memory, and then added: "You seem to have
I never go to the opera or buy records."
Schiele nodded and said: "But you may not know that I can draw, because I have never painted until the day before we set off."
Now Natasha was really a little surprised. She was convinced that the people around Schiele, those friends who met him without looking up and interacted with him every day, did not know that Schiele could still paint.
Natasha felt that her interest had become high, and she had some additional curiosity from completing the task of exploring Schiele's past, and art was actually a topic that she could talk about quite meaningfully.
"I once visited the art gallery of the Repin Academy of Fine Arts." Natasha gently wiped away the frost on the tip of her chin with the back of her hand, which was still a little red, and said while recalling: "That is different from American or European art.
There is a huge difference. As Nick said, Russian art always contains a vitality that comes from suffering. Artificiality and unnecessary moaning are not the main theme here."
“Suffering may not shape personality, but it usually shapes art.”
"Suffering shapes art?" Natasha read this sentence on the tip of her tongue, swallowed back the leading questions she was going to ask next, and raised another more philosophical question: "Suffering is
How does art shape?”
Schiller raised his back from the back of the chair and sat upright, then sat back, leaned forward again, stretched out his hand to fiddle with the shaft of the fishing rod, and said: "The cold colors of sadness from suffering are always reminiscent of death.
And survival and destruction are the main themes of all art."
Natasha felt that this answer was a bit mediocre and did not sound as amazing as before, but then she heard Schiller say: "Forgive me for not being able to answer this question better, ma'am, because if you want to know more,
A good argument for it must start with you."
Natasha was stunned for a moment before she understood what Schiller meant. She had to take a strong puff of the cigarette, and then exhaled a mouthful of smoke to cover her sight.
She pulled both sides of her upper lip upwards and said, "Doctor, all your actions in the past put together don't put as much pressure on me as it does now."
"Since you still call me doctor, I have to remind you that your lungs are about to be burned by cigarettes, and you haven't caught a single fish yet."
"It's almost there." Natasha seemed to be disappointed, she suddenly turned the shaft of the fishing rod to lift the fishing line, reached out to grab the hanging bait dangling in mid-air, and planned to replace it with a new one.
"I knew nothing good would happen if I came here with you!" Natasha blew another puff of smoke, pressed the remaining cigarette butt hard on the ice and threw it aside, while Schiller just looked at it in amusement.
Looking at her, it was like watching a ballet performance.
Natasha decided not to speak, and this female agent was always able to faithfully implement every decision she made. She planned to implement it until the lunch party. If Nick and Steve didn't catch a fish, she would laugh at them.
It would be a good new topic.
But at this time she heard Schiller say again: "Charles should have told you about my experience before college. Do you want to hear what happened after that?"
Natasha almost covered her forehead. She felt that she had to have another cigarette, because she really couldn't help but want to nod, and at the same time she knew very well that Schiller did not just want to tell his own story.
The truth is like a sweet bait - Natasha only now understands the true meaning of this sentence. What are the benefits of knowing Schiller? What is the use of this kind of truth? In order to complete the task? But this is not actually a task.
It was just a casual mention from Nick that Natasha saw that his job was not easy and wanted to do her old boss a favor.
"Okay, doctor, I really can't imagine what it was like when you were studying modestly. Can you describe it in detail?"
Schiller shook his head and said: "In fact, there is no factor in my study process that can be called modesty, or it can be directly said to be the antonym of modesty."
"Then why do you want to go to college?"
"Because this is other people's expectations." Schiller also pulled up the fishing line to replace the less fresh bait. He said while busy: "This is a result that can make everyone happy, so I went
.”
"I thought there would always be some surprises in my four long years of life that would keep me from regretting my decision, but it turned out that I was wrong. The entire college career was boring as hell."
Natasha was surprised to find that she actually saw a trace of regret on Schiller's face, which was so childish that it was completely unlike him.
As we all know, Dr. Schiller is a person who will never regret, or there is no room for him to regret. After all, he has clearly arranged everything ahead, and all the results are within expectations, so there is nothing to regret.
I regret it.
Natasha was really curious, so she leaned forward and asked tentatively: "You weren't you at that time, you weren't...a doctor?"
"I'm almost done." Schiller said as if to reassure him. When he put the hook back in the water, he paused briefly before saying, "What was it like when you first came to America?"
Natasha didn't expect that he would ask this question. She was stunned for a few seconds before she realized what topic Schiller was going to talk about, so she answered as if he was talking about something.
"I had no expectations, so I had to come, in a hurry, praying that everything goes well and that I can leave here immediately after finishing the work."
"I'm just the opposite of you. I'm full of interest and full of expectations."
