Chapter 76 Return
"The paintings are sold... the paintings are sold... is there anyone who wants to buy them..." Hill squatted at the intersection, his hands were red from the cold, and his voice was trembling slightly from the cold.
The icy cold wind kept attacking his body, causing him to involuntarily shrink his neck. Next to him were several carefully framed pictures, on which were the exquisite buildings he had painted.
However, one of the paintings was a little different. It was a portrait of a person. You could see that he painted it very carefully, but there were still many flaws on it.
But the pedestrians at the intersection just treated him as air, and walked hurriedly past him with expressionless faces. Only a few people would occasionally glance at the painter squatting on the street like a beggar, and then continue to rush towards the bank, eager to exchange the marks they had just received for dollars.
For them, art has long lost its appeal, and the most important thing is to exchange marks for dollars, otherwise they will depreciate again in a while.
"Sigh..." Hill sighed as he looked at the pedestrians passing by. His shoulders slumped unconsciously and he felt a little heavy-hearted. He hadn't sold a painting for a long time.
People nowadays can't even guarantee their livelihood, so how can they have spare money to buy art? He felt his pocket and found that there was not much money left. This money was left to him by Lu Mingfei.
Originally, the money Lu Mingfei left was enough for him to rent an apartment and concentrate on painting for a long time without worrying about money, but everything changed from the day the war ended.
It is now 1919, and a year has passed since the end of the war. After the war, the Prussian government paid the first billion marks in war reparations, which caused the government's finances to go bankrupt. In order to continue to pay that astronomical figure of reparations, the Prussian government could only print a large amount of money, causing the mark to begin to depreciate rapidly.
From the initial exchange rate of one dollar for four marks, to one dollar for fourteen marks, and now the terrifying exchange rate of one dollar for seventy-five marks.
Before leaving, Lu Mingfei actually told Hill to change the money into US dollars as soon as possible after getting it, but Hill was frightened by the secret that Lu Mingfei suddenly revealed at the time and did not pay attention to this remark which he thought was a trivial matter.
Later, when the news of Lu Mingfei's death came, he fell into an extreme sadness for a long time, and this little thing was even more forgotten. He didn't remember this matter until the mark began to depreciate sharply. But it was too late. His savings, which were originally quite abundant, shrunk by more than half in an instant, making his life become difficult, and he moved from the apartment to the basement.
Hill took out an old newspaper from his arms. The edges of the newspaper had begun to turn yellow due to the passage of time, but it was obvious that he treasured this newspaper very much, and the newspaper had not been damaged by the passage of time.
The newspaper reported Lu Mingfei's last battle: "The great Prussian hero, Wilhelm Hans, fought one against five hundred enemies over the Somme River and wiped out all the enemy planes before he ran out of fuel and died in battle. The whole country mourns." Hill had already memorized these words, but every time he read them he still fell into deep pain and nostalgia.
He still remembered how he felt when he received the newspaper in the hospital that gloomy afternoon. The unspeakable sadness surged like a tide and drowned him completely.
He cried for three days and three nights. Not only Paul, but also Kropp and everyone else in the company cried. The whole company was shrouded in a shadow of sadness.
When the news reached Prussia, the whole country was in mourning. It is said that the team looking for Lu Mingfei's body searched almost every corner of the battlefield, but in the end they only found the fuel-depleted and badly damaged plane. No one believed that anyone could survive after falling from such a high altitude.
But all this did not make Hill lose hope. Although everyone thought Lu Mingfei was dead, Hill always believed that the man he admired would not leave so easily. After all, he had witnessed Lu Mingfei's miracles on the battlefield and witnessed his god-like power.
However, the search team still found some things that Lu Mingfei used during his lifetime, and pulled the damaged plane back to Prussia. Finally, they used these things to hold a grand funeral for Lu Mingfei.
Hill still remembers the funeral, which was grand and solemn. It was presided over by Prussian Emperor William II himself, and countless generals attended. People from the entire city came spontaneously to bid farewell to the hero.
That day, the streets of Berlin were crowded with people coming to lay flowers, and the whole city was in mourning.
William II hesitated for a long time about what title to posthumously confer on this war hero and what medal to award. Lu Mingfei's record was so horrific that he was the undisputed uncrowned king both in the sky and on land. He even received three medals of the Order of Merit, which represented the highest honor in Prussia.
Finally, William II decided to use the name William Hans as a title, because whenever this war hero was mentioned, it would also be associated with their royal family.
He also specially cast a unique medal for Lu Mingfei, which symbolized his irreplaceable position in Prussian history and far surpassed the Medal of Merit, which represented the highest honor in Prussia.
However, as time passed, those glorious pasts began to be forgotten. After the war, the Prussian people began to struggle for survival. The huge war reparations weighed on everyone's shoulders like an invisible mountain. The name of William Hans was gradually forgotten, and fewer and fewer people remembered him.
"Alas... Mr. Captain... I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. I can't become a great painter..." Hill said in a low voice as he looked at Lu Mingfei in the newspaper, his voice full of helplessness and self-blame.
He carefully folded the newspaper again and put it back into his pocket. The touch of the newspaper gave him a sense of comfort, as if it was the only remaining connection between him and the young man.
Just as he was lost in thought, a young man in a suit and tie suddenly walked up to his stall. With a solemn look on his face, he reached out and picked up the portrait. His eyes fell on the canvas, and through the rough brushstrokes, he seemed to be looking for something.
"This is a portrait of the war hero William Hans." Seeing that the young man seemed interested in the painting, Hill hurriedly introduced it with a hint of expectation in his tone.
The young man stared at the painting with nostalgia in his eyes, but he said bluntly: "It's a very bad painting. It doesn't depict his aura at all..." Although his words were critical, the tenderness and regret in his tone were obvious.
When Hill heard the young man's merciless evaluation, he suddenly felt angry. He subconsciously wanted to refute, but as soon as he stood up, his anger gradually dissipated under the other party's sharp gaze, and was replaced by deep inferiority and frustration. He lowered his head and sat back on the ground because he realized that the other party was right.
He once followed Lu Mingfei and was well aware of Lu Mingfei's aura and bravery, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never fully display that aura on the canvas, and could not use his brush to reproduce Lu Mingfei's breathtaking aura.
The young man put the painting back on the stall and said to Hill with a deep gaze.
"Do you regret it? Do you regret not listening to Uncle Hans and letting you go to America with us?" His voice was low, with an indescribable complex emotion.
Hill was stunned for a moment, then he looked up and carefully examined the young man's face. The familiar face gradually overlapped with a figure in his memory. Then he asked hesitantly, "Are you... Calvo?"
"Yes, it's me." The young man nodded, confirming Hill's guess, and then continued slowly, "So, do you regret it?"
"Regret? How could I regret it!" Hill lowered his head and said silently. His voice was so low that it was almost inaudible. His eyes fell on his red hands due to freezing, but his tone was extremely firm.
"If I had gone to America with you guys, maybe I would have a better life now, with my own studio, and no longer have to worry about food and clothing... But I will always look down on myself for running away from the battlefield. It was my honor to follow the captain during those days."
Calvo looked at Hill, a glimmer of appreciation flashed in his eyes, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and his tone was soft: "I know."
He paused, as if thinking about something, and then continued, "I have a piece of news you should know. In the United States, I joined a mixed-race organization called the Secret Party. I found out from that organization that Uncle Hans did not die in the plane crash, but was besieged and killed by the Elders after he left the plane for a distance."
When Hill heard this, he was stunned. His mind went blank and his lips trembled slightly: "What? What did you say?"
Calvo looked at him calmly, as if he had anticipated Hill's reaction. "You don't really think Uncle Hans will die in the plane crash, do you? You've been with him for so long, you should know his strength better than anyone else."
Hill was stunned. The string in his heart was completely broken at this moment. For many years, he had been fantasizing that Lu Mingfei was not dead, and that one day he would suddenly appear in front of him with his usual calm smile. However, the news brought by Calvo ruthlessly shattered his last glimmer of hope.
"The Council of Elders..." Hill muttered to himself. He knew this organization. Lu Mingfei once told him that it was a powerful mixed-race organization.
Seeing Hill lost in thought, Calvo said softly, "Okay, I should go now. Don't worry about the Elders' Council. Just focus on your painting. I will destroy the Elders' Council."
After saying this, he took one last look at the portrait with a hint of nostalgia in his eyes, then he pulled out a wallet from his pocket, took out a stack of US dollars of considerable denomination, and handed it to Hill: "I'll buy this painting."
Hill was stunned for a moment, and took the money hesitantly: "But... didn't you say that this painting was not well done?"
Calvo smiled softly, with an indescribable gentleness in his tone: "It doesn't matter whether the painting is good or not, what matters is the person painted on it."
Hill looked at the money Calvo handed over, feeling mixed emotions. He knew that this was not only a recognition of his paintings, but also a compensation for his failure to go to the United States with him. "Thank you, Calvo." Hill's voice was trembling a little, not only because the money could temporarily improve his life, but also because besides him, there were still people who remembered that man, that god-like man.
Calvo nodded and smiled: "Take care of yourself, Hill." After that, he turned and left, gradually disappearing from Hill's sight.
Hill carefully put away the picture frame on the ground, feeling mixed emotions in his heart. The news brought by Calvo stirred up huge waves in his heart, making it difficult for him to calm down for a while.
He slowly walked back to the basement he rented, put the picture frames neatly in place, then left the dim basement and walked towards the beer hall on the corner. He didn't want to paint now, he needed a glass of wine to calm his emotions.
"Have a beer." Hill was sitting in the corner of the beer hall and greeted the waitress in a slightly hoarse voice.
Soon a full glass of beer was brought up. Hill picked up the glass and drank the cold beer in big gulps, trying to let the biting cold dispel the distracting thoughts in his heart. However, Calvo's words continued to echo in his mind.
The noise around him gradually interrupted his thoughts. The beer hall was crowded with people. They looked like members of a certain party and were arguing fiercely. Hill heard several of their voices, all discussing the current situation of the country.
"I heard that Bavaria is planning to secede from Prussia..."
"I guess he doesn't want to lose money with us."
"Those damn guys!"
"And those squids! They want to pay back double the money they borrowed last month!"
"Selim borrowed money last month and didn't pay it back, and now he has disappeared!"
"It's because those soldiers on the frontline lost the battle! Otherwise, why would we have to pay so much money!"
These words sounded harsh and sharp in the noisy tavern. Hill didn't want to pay attention to them, but when he heard someone blaming the soldiers on the front line for their lack of bravery and leading to the failure of the war, he could no longer bear it. As a soldier who survived the mountains of corpses and seas of blood on the front line, he knew the bravery and fearlessness of those soldiers better than anyone else.
"Shut up! Our Prussian soldiers are the bravest soldiers in the world!" Hill stood up suddenly, swept the things on the table to the ground, and shouted excitedly.
"We have war heroes like William Hans! If it weren't for the mistakes of those fat-headed commanders, how could we have lost this war!" His words were full of anger and sadness, which were emotions that had been pent up in his heart for a long time.
In his view, Prussia's defeat was not the fault of the soldiers, but the result of the indulgence and negligence of those high-ranking commanders, which led to the tragedy of the war.
The people around were stunned for a moment, and the tavern fell into silence. Hill's anger erupted like a volcano, pouring out all the resentment in his heart.
He stood on the table and spoke incessantly about his views, ranging from the failure of the war to the various problems in the country to the Squidwards whom he hated.
"Those Squids! They are the parasites of Prussia! They should be wiped out!" A hint of madness flashed in Hill's eyes. He vaguely remembered that Lu Mingfei once mentioned that the Squids had the support of the Elders Council, and that damn organization was the mastermind behind Lu Mingfei's murder.
Those Jewish people who were rampant in money lending were the minions of the Presbyterian Church, and they squeezed the blood and sweat of Prussia for their own benefit.
Hill stood on the table in the tavern, his emotions as excited as a lit powder keg, pouring out all the anger and dissatisfaction in his heart without any scruples.
His voice was hoarse and husky, but full of power. He wanted to let everyone know the real reasons for the failure of this war, the culprits that made him unable to sleep or eat.
There was silence in the tavern. Everyone was infected by Hill's passion. They did not expect that this thin-looking guy could harbor such strong indignation and passion.
Just when Hill thought he was about to be beaten up by these strong men in the beer hall, there was suddenly a burst of applause and cheers all around.
"That's right! He's right!"
"Those damn commanders! And the squid people! They are the culprits!"
Hearing the applause and shouts around him, Hill felt an indescribable excitement in his heart. He had never thought that so many people would have the same idea as him. At this moment, he felt that he was no longer alone. There were many people standing with him, sharing the same anger and hatred.
At this time, a man who looked like a leader stood up, walked up to Hill, raised his hand and shook hands with him: "You said it well, brother, join our Prussian Workers' Party!"
Hill looked at the hand that the other party extended to him, feeling a little hesitant. He remembered what Lu Mingfei once said: "Don't get involved in politics easily."
But the supportive eyes before him seemed to be calling him, making him unable to refuse.
"Join us!"
"Join us!"
The crowd in the tavern persuaded Hill in unison, and their voices drowned Hill like a tide. He was struggling inside, with both loyalty to Lu Mingfei and resentment towards the reality. In the end, he stretched out his hand and shook the other party's hand tightly. At that moment, thunderous cheers broke out around him.
Hill made up his mind, not only because of the expectations of these people, but also because of Lu Mingfei. He made up his mind: "If it is true as the captain said, I can climb to the top of this country, then, even if I become a demon, what's the harm?"
He didn't care how others would call him in the future, nor did he care whether he would fall into darkness. He just longed for power, longed for revenge for the man he admired most, and longed to make those who destroyed Lu Mingfei pay the price.
……
Lu Mingfei slowly opened his eyes and saw a snow-white ceiling. The air was filled with a faint smell of disinfectant.
"Where is this? Am I not dead?" He sat up, and everything around him felt strange and unreal.
The bed sheets were snow-white, bright sunshine came in through the window, and there was a vase with a few flowers on the bedside. It was obviously a hospital ward.
Lu Mingfei looked around. Everything was so clean and surprisingly quiet. There was no endless wailing on the battlefield, nor was there smoke everywhere. There was a TV hanging on the wall. This modern equipment made him feel even more incredible.
"TV?" Lu Mingfei was full of doubts. All this made him feel extremely confused. "Am I... back?" He asked himself uncertainly, as if this was just a dream that was too real.
He raised his hand and felt that his body seemed lighter than before. The pain from the battlefield was almost gone now. Countless questions emerged in his mind, but none of them could be answered.
He began to think about how he survived and how he returned to the present world from the brink of death.
The battle was still vivid in his memory, the plane that ran out of fuel, the blue sky, and the final moment of determination... However, now he was lying alive on a clean hospital bed, as if nothing had happened.
He tried to clear his mind, but found that his mind was occupied by countless chaotic thoughts. He slowly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to calm himself down. However, the doubts and uneasiness in his heart continued to grow.
What had happened? Was he really back? Or was this just a cruel dream, with the line between reality and illusion blurring?
(End of this chapter)
