After a brief chat, Charle left Carion's secret residence. Of course, he could not take away a large number of heavy "antiques" on the spot. Of course, Carion would not be so stupid as to store a large number of goods in his residence. He wrote a note to Charle and told Charle to go to a secret place to receive the goods, and he would come whatever he did afterwards.

Since the chatting here in Carion was much longer than expected, in order to hurry, he quickly called a taxi carriage and drove all the way. Finally, before the reservation was reached, he came to the mansion of Miss Periet. Before leaving his home, he received an invitation from the Miss Blue Stockings, and the time was set for tonight.

After walking into the lady's living room, Charles was shocked to find that there were several guests here, and they looked strangely dressed, and they were of different age groups, including old and young. They didn't look like a political gathering, but instead looked like...

Look, it looks like some boring salon.

"You're finally here, Mr. Treville." After seeing him in, Miss Periet, dressed in a gorgeous dress and holding a precious ivory fan in her hand, walked to the door and greeted him with a smile.

"What's going on with you?" Charles asked in a low voice, "I thought it was a big deal."

"Of course this is a big deal..." Miss Periet replied with a smile, "The guests tonight are all literary figures with some reputation recently. It took me a lot of effort to call you all."

After hearing her answer, Charles's face became a little weird.

"I always thought literature or something. In your eyes, it was just an excuse to hide yourself and make friends from all walks of life."

"No, you misjudged me." The blue stockings lady gently patted her left hand with a fan, and the smuggling bone made a rhythmic sound. "This is my real hobby."

"What do you need me to do?"

"You just need to sit there and chat with them. Remember, you are not a thief today, but a well-known writer in recent years, and can also work as a literary critic as a part-time job."

"Okay, if you are serious." With the other party's insistence, Charles had to agree. Anyway, there is no harm in chatting with others, even if it is with a group of literati.

"Charle, I'm very happy now." Miss Periet smiled more and more happily. Her eyes seemed to be on fire, shining with the fanaticism that the collectors met their long-loving collections. "I couldn't help but be happy when I thought of having so many French literary stars gathered together and spoke freely today, and yes. Very... very happy."

"I hope you can still maintain some sanity." Charles shrugged indifferently and followed her in.

After seeing Charles walking in with a smile and talking with the owner, the originally harmonious atmosphere in the living room instantly became a little solemn, and the eyes of several young writers looking at Charles became even more unkind.

However, Charles also understood their ideas very well. Miss Periet was very beautiful, even without considering this, "she was rich and very rich" was enough to make her the favorite of almost every frustrated writer. Think about it, a rich woman who likes literature. Doesn't it look like the goddess God created for writers?

No wonder Charles had heard that several young writers had always been paying attention to this "guarding goddess of French literature". It is said that some people wrote several poems to dedicate to her.

After walking to everyone together, the host introduced Charles to the guests sitting around the sofa.

"Everyone, let me introduce it to you. This is Mr. Zwell." Zwell is the pseudonym used by Charles.

"oh?"

"So it's him?"

"It's much younger than expected!"

"I really didn't expect..."

……………………

The screams and whispers that followed one after another were buzzing and remembering.

Shire quickly bowed and bowed to the others.

Although Charles did not regard himself as a well-known writer, this scene of "everyone seems to know me" still made him feel a little proud.

"Everyone knows that Mr. Zwell is usually very low-key and doesn't like to participate in parties. He rarely shows up. Today I have put a lot of effort in asking him..." Miss Blue Stockings still smiled, "If anyone wants to sign, please mention it as soon as possible..."

The smile on Charles's face disappeared immediately.

Isn’t this arousing hatred for me? I was so proud of myself in front of a group of literati, and I obviously wanted to see a joke with bad intentions.

He quickly explained: "Dear Miss Periet, you are so praising me too much. Besides, I am not qualified to sign the seniors here? I will wait for me to ask for an autograph..."

However, it is obvious that Miss Blue Stockings' purpose has been achieved.

"Is it Mr. Tsville who writes women's books? My fourteen-year-old niece likes reading it very much. Mr. Tsville, are you free later? I'm going to ask for an autograph for her. I feel that your book is quite suitable for people of this age." A young man said to Charles with a smile, as if he was not mocking Charles.

A dull smile rang among the few people.

To their surprise, Charles did not fight back, but just replied with a smile, as if he had not heard the ridicule inside.

"Thank you, sir. I will sign later. I'll say hello to your niece for me."

Anyway, that's a means of making money. Being able to make money is more important than anything else. As for ridicule, Charles has a thick-skinned enough to never take it seriously.

Then Charles glanced at the Blue Stockings Miss, but she obviously didn't take it seriously and still looked at the writers present with a smile.

Seeing that Charles was so low-key and did not deliberately act very close to Miss Periet, the other writers finally relaxed their attitude. Then in their chat, Charles was also very gentle and did not express any opinions. He just interjected a few words from time to time to add a little atmosphere.

After a while, everyone started to chat about contemporary literature.

"Mr. Zwell, who do you think is the best among contemporary writers?" Miss Periet asked Charles suddenly.

Obviously, she had little intentions in this issue and wanted to cause everyone to argue.

"Mr. De Balzac." Charles answered without hesitation.

After hearing this answer, others did not find any fault. After all, in this era, Balzac's status in the French literary world was unquestionable. Even those who did not like him rarely gave reasons to others not like him.

"Of course Mr. Balzac deserves his reputation, but he has rarely written for his physical reasons. Do you have any other candidates besides her?" Seeing that this question did not cause any trouble, Miss Periet continued to ask with a smile. "Is it Mr. Merrime? Or Mr. Dumas? Or Ms. George Sand? Or someone else..."

"Well..." Charles pondered for a moment, and finally said his answer regardless of other people's eyes, "I think Mr. Hugo is very good."

His answer indeed triggered the effect that Miss Blue Stockings wanted, and the atmosphere suddenly became active. The eyes of several other people looking at Charles also became a little sharper.

"Hugo?" A young writer suddenly smiled, then curled his lips with disdain, "He used to be a little capable, but now he is completely out of date. Politics has already exhausted his inspiration that had already begun to dry up. He can't do it now."

Since ancient times, literati are the most despised. When a group of writers discuss a famous writer, they rarely say anything good.

How did that joke say? "Every writer with a talented and little future will eventually become a literary critic. He cannot eat the writer's meal, at least they can still eat the author."

At this time, Victor Hugo's ideological realm was not yet high enough to be in the miserable world. "There are three problems in every stage of the century: poverty makes men destitute, hunger makes women degraded, and dark makes children weak." This deafening and suspicious saying is at a low point.

The publication of Notre Dame in 1831 made him famous and was considered the next superstar in the literary world. However, he then started high and low and never published any better works. In the following years, his works "The Demon King of Iceland" and "The Garage Officer" were adapted into scripts and were released completely failed (the Great Storm, the Great Storm), and were even strongly booed by the audience. This gave people the impression that "Victor Hugo was just a meteor in the literary world, and he had already finished his talents."

However, although literary creation is at a low point, his career is very smooth at this time, and it can even be said to be at the peak of his life.

In 1841, Hugo was finally elected as an academician of the French Bachelor's Academician, and in 1845, King Louis Philippe conferred him as a member of the House of Nobles - this was also the highest political status he achieved in his life. Perhaps it was because his career was too smooth, so his literary journey was a bit bumpy. After he was in a downturn and was repeatedly exiled and underestimated, he wrote the masterpiece "Les Miserables", and instead became a literary master. Maybe life is so wonderful?

This is all a story later.

Anyway, now, a person from a writer can achieve such great achievements step by step and successfully transform into a politician. It is no wonder that he is deeply jealous of the writers here.

"No matter what you say, I think Mr. Hugo will shine brightly again in the future." Charles was too lazy to argue with others, but directly expressed his opinion.

As soon as he finished speaking, a servant suddenly walked in and informed the master.

"Mr. Victor Hugo is here!"

The living room was instantly in a bigger commotion than before, and only the owner here was still calm and calm. She smiled and clapped her hands with a fan.

"Ah, today's guests are finally here!" (To be continued, please search Piaotianwen, the novel is better, updated and faster!
Chapter completed!