The original owner of the room didn't seem to like drinking coffee or black tea, so Mr. Mills poured them a glass of "Dulinde", which is a traditional local drink. It is said to be wine, but it is actually a fermented juice with a bitter taste.
, slightly stimulating, although the taste is not very good, it can refresh the mind, so it is popular among midnight poets or drama actors.
In line with the principle of equality, Mills did not ignore St. Shalia's lamb. He also poured a glass of Durinde wine for it. The dark brown liquid was as lustrous as bitter tree roots in the cup. The lamb just licked it.
After taking a sip, humanized disgust and fear appeared on his face, and he shook his head repeatedly, as if he had encountered the most terrifying enemy in the world.
St. Xalia didn't seem to like its taste, and only tasted it briefly. Only Ringer, after drinking half a glass of Durinde wine without changing his expression, said to Mr. Mills who looked expectantly: "It has a very unique taste.
Unforgettable."
"Then you have realized its charm."
Mr. Mills said happily: "However, we all agree that if you want to experience its true essence, you have to drink a glass of Dolinde alone in the dead of night when you can release your inspiration.
The stimulation of cells must be an unforgettable experience."
Ringer imagined such a scene and felt that it was indeed the case. As for the degree of "unforgettable", it depends on your own mood. In addition, his statement "we all agree" may not be true.
It remains to be discussed.
After a little taste of the unique charm of Dulinde wine, the conversation between the two parties got down to business.
"You just mentioned that you want to know more about "March Xun Diary", right, Mr. Ringer?" Mills asked the young man sitting opposite him with his eyes, and waited for him to nod lightly before continuing.
Next, he said: "Although I don't know where you got the news, I can't hide it. There is indeed an unknown story behind this drama."
There was a look of reminiscence in his eyes: "It is related to the personal experience of my ancestor, Sir Roman, the creator of the script. I heard it from my father - when he handed the Central Theater into my hands, he once
I have been told that no matter how the theater's business is, whether it is prosperous or declining, as long as it does not close down, then "March Xun Diary" must appear in the theater's performance list. This has nothing to do with other factors, but Roman Ancestors
The last wish left behind."
"When I asked my father why our ancestors left such a last wish, he told me a story——"
That's the story Ringer and the others want to know.
However, Mills' voice stopped here and did not continue. He gently twirled the beard on his lips, and his eyes, which always sparkled with curiosity and thinking, were fixed on Ringer's calm expression.
On his face: "I can tell you this story, but before that, I need you to answer a few questions."
Ringer said: "Excuse me, but only if I can answer your question."
"When you feel embarrassed, you can refuse to answer." Mills gave his promise before asking the first question: "First of all, why do you want to know the story behind it? Although I don't want to belittle the ancestors.
It’s a labor of love, but in the final analysis, it’s just a drama from a hundred years ago. I’m afraid it’s not worth your troubles, right?”
Just the first question made Ringer feel embarrassed.
How should you answer? Do you want to find the answer to your destiny from this drama?
Even if the man in front of you is an imaginative creator, when faced with such a ridiculous answer, he will probably just think it is the nonsense of a madman, right?
So he remained silent, thinking about the appropriate words, but this silence was misunderstood by Mr. Mills. He shook his head helplessly: "It seems that I am really not good at communicating with people. Just the first question makes you
Do you feel so embarrassed? In that case, let us skip it. I hope this will not affect your good mood, Mr. Ringer."
After saying that, he turned his attention to the green-haired girl sitting next to Ringer: "As for the second question, I want to ask Miss Saint Xalia."
Linge had no right to decide for Saint Xalia, so he continued to remain silent, while the girl nodded slightly, indicating that it was okay.
"So, what I want to know is," a strange look appeared in the writer's eyes, as if he was suppressing his impulse, but he was so excited that even his voice trembled slightly: "This world
Is there some kind of...power beyond human imagination that can achieve all kinds of incredible miracles? I mean, is it as magical as the magic described in stories and novels?"
Sure enough, he asked this question.
Ringer subconsciously thought: He really should ask this question.
After all, not everyone can maintain the necessary rationality for the mysterious and extraordinary world, not to mention that the other person is a creator whose emotions are dominated by sensibility. In those wild imaginations, if one tenth is true, it is enough.
It made him flock to it.
Saint Xalia didn't seem to think that magic was something that needed to be kept secret from ordinary people, so she answered with a clear voice: "Yes."
Although he was mentally prepared, when he heard this answer, Mills still felt a sense of absurdity and joy from the bottom of his heart. He used too much force and almost broke his beard. He felt a pain in his upper lip and hurriedly
He loosened his fingers and asked: "So, you and Mr. Ringer are the magicians often mentioned in rural rumors?"
"No."
Saint Xalia simply denied his speculation: "I am not a magician."
The girl glanced at the young man next to her again: "Neither is Ringer."
Since what she said was true, Ringer did not refute it.
"Really..."
The writer could not hide the disappointment in his eyes, but he quickly cheered up: "Then, the last question - I have lived in this city for thirty-three years, and I am very convinced that there is no hotel named Goblin Deep in this land.
Therefore, when Mr. Ringer asked me for directions yesterday, he was able to give such a conclusive answer. But now, I want to revise my view and ask you: Does the Fairy Sleeping Hotel really exist?
It just exists in a corner that we ordinary people can't see, just like-a fairy hotel?"
He stared at Lin Ge and Saint Xia Liya with bright eyes, eager to get an answer to confirm his suspicion. Saint Xia Liya did not think about it and was about to answer, but Linge beat him to it: "
I'm sorry."
The young man looked serious: "We can't answer this question."
There was a trace of doubt in the girl's beautiful eyes, but she sat quietly on the chair and said nothing.
A disappointed expression flashed across Mills's face. It could be seen that he was not satisfied with the answer, but he did not insist on it. After taking a long breath, he accepted the result. At least, he
The question you are most concerned about has been answered.
"These are the questions I want to ask."
After calming down his mood, he said: "Since you two have shown your sincerity, if I still have reservations, I'm afraid it's not the way to treat guests. Then, I will tell you about the story behind "March Xun Diary"
The story is also the personal experience of my ancestor Sir Roman."
"Many people think that Noctus, the monster that devours the sun, and Rosh, the hero who saves the sun, are both fictional. In fact, this statement is half correct and half wrong."
"The correct thing is that the brave Rosh is indeed a fictional character. He was created for the plot development of the script. It is the image of the brave in our minds. There is no such person in real history, and naturally there is no such person.
Story."
"The mistake is that the brave Rosh is fictional, but the sun-eating monster Noctus is not."
"Because my ancestor, Sir Roman, once witnessed its existence."