Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

Chapter 96 Extra 1

"Hey!"

The down-and-out boy in a painter's hat hurried out, holding an old drawing board in his right hand and a wrinkled, half-burned cigarette in his left hand.

The girl turned around with her hands behind her back. She was not tall, but had a plump figure, and her long, soft satin hair was slightly curled at her waist.

"I don't mean to compliment you, girl. But... you are stunningly beautiful." The boy looked into the girl's eyes. When she smiled, she was like a flower blooming in winter - sweet and heartbreaking.

The boy guessed that anyone (regardless of gender) who was looked at by the girl with such a silent smile would never refuse her request - even if the request was too much, he would be willing to try for her. The innocence and naturalness of the child flowed with the slightly drooping eyes, and suddenly magnified in the gorgeous teardrop mole.

Divinity and humanity were intertwined in her eyes, indifference and sweetness conflicted and united, and the boy even saw a hint of compassion in them, like the sigh of the Holy Spirit.

As she was thinking, the girl's voice, as thick as honey, rang out: "Sorry, if you want to argue or regret the bet just now, I don't agree."

"Of course I won't!" The young man pushed up the brim of his hat, and then adjusted his cuffs and leather shoes in dissatisfaction. Unfortunately, he couldn't make the yellow mud on his shoes disappear just by stamping his feet.

The boy was a little embarrassed, but the girl didn't care. She blinked and smiled, "Great outfit, sir. I don't like those 'gentlemen' who wear bandages around their waists to hide their bellies."

This made the boy laugh.

"I don't like it either, ha! I guess you must be a noble lady who ran away secretly, right?" He rubbed his trouser line with his left hand and finally regained his natural and carefree attitude: "You won my ticket! If you hadn't intervened, I should have won the ticket with my few banknotes and my nose in the air."

"It's a good character to accept defeat when you gamble. You definitely have that." The girl covered her mouth and chuckled. "So you're not chasing me here for the boat ticket that 'belongs' to you, right?"

"Of course not, I just want to meet the most beautiful woman of this era." The boy raised the drawing board proudly.

"Oh...you want to pursue me?"

"I'm not so arrogant as to think I can pursue a noble lady. Besides, how old are you?"

The girl looked at him strangely for a few seconds: "Don't underestimate yourself, sir."

The boy scratched his face in confusion.

"Um...you are a painter, right?" The girl started another topic: "I see you are holding a drawing board."

"Oh... yes! That's right! I'm a wandering painter, you know, wandering and stuff..." The boy gestured twice, and suddenly thought of something, and laughed warmly: "Haha! I'm going to have a business? I lost the boat ticket, but I got the money!"

"Indeed." The girl turned her skirt, revealing the tip of her light white shoes: "I have a 'good friend' who wants to learn some fun tricks..."

The boy waved his hand in disapproval. "This isn't a 'trick'. You have to learn to respect art."

"Okay, art, revival, and high class." Mori Yuesha did not comment: "As for the price, I think she will satisfy you."

"That's the history of the past. You have to know something about people today. You can't learn anything interesting by drinking tea and chatting with those good sisters wearing leg-of-mutton sleeves and big fringed shawls every day. You have to see more of the world. Those interesting lives cannot be obtained in corsets and bustiers."

Waist binder or chest binder?

The girl looked down in confusion at the tip of her shoe that she couldn't find.

The girl's dazed look amused the boy again: "Now I can make a conclusion, I will never pursue you. You are much younger than I thought, miss, and... stop looking! I'm not doubting it, my God, you are not suitable for those things at all. Bad girls don't wear those, sneaking out to gamble, right?"

The girl pursed her lips and hooked her finger at the boy subtly - when he came close, she clenched her fist and punched him hard in the stomach!

puff!

The hat fell to the ground and was splashed with mud by the passing wheels.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time." The girl clapped her hands and pushed the boy, who looked in pain, away neatly: "Be careful when talking to a lady. I'll use 20% more force next time."

Two percent?

The boy turned his face away, covered his stomach and took two steps back: "You are definitely not a noble lady who ran away secretly, right? You knocked out the servants and walked out in a swagger?"

The girl responded by raising her little fist again.

"Okay, okay... Let's talk about 'career'. Are you sure you want to hire me?" The boy picked up his hat and dusted it off, then put it back on his head without feeling dirty at all: "I also want to see that century ship."

"My friend is the one who hired you." The girl turned and led the boy forward. "A noble lady, a noble lady who doesn't like nobles very much. A fiery horse who wants to run away and see the world in the forest, and a mermaid who can swim freely in the sea and ride the waves."

"Sounds good." The boy shrugged. "I don't like aristocrats very much, but I like free ladies."

"You just simply like beautiful girls, sir." The girl turned her head and glanced at him. "Her mother is harsh and rude, but don't worry, it's the lady who controls the gold coin finances."

This surprised the boy: "Are there still young ladies who can control their own wealth now?"

You know, in this era, the fate of a young lady is to persuade and please her parents as much as possible so that she can take away more dowry from home when she gets married - and then, after getting married, persuade and please her husband so that he will be merciful and give her a small part of her dowry to her at her own disposal.

This is already the happiest template: many girls who find themselves to be the wealth-bringing boys after getting married make up the majority of this era.

"Marrying a woman with a large dowry" has always been a saying among gentlemen who have a little ambition and a good family background.

Unless the girl's father is a confidential minister, most girls cannot escape this fate - the father divides the property among his daughters and waits for them to get married, giving each of them a share. After that, life and death are no longer his business: Of course, I have given the dowry and taken the money, so shouldn't I treat my daughter better? At least, at least don't bring other women home.

This is also what surprised the boy.

"Because I helped them pay off their debts." The girl took small steps forward without looking back, and her voice reached the boy's ears: "I am very rich, and my friend needs money to pay off her father's debts. A noble title can't help her."

The boy whistled: "Rich girl, how do you control your wealth?"

The girl suddenly turned around.

"By robbing."

boy:……

"I never realized you had a talent for drama..."

The girl laughed in an ambiguous tone and said, "You can negotiate the price with Miss Dewitt Booker yourself. Well, they will stay there temporarily."

Following the girl's finger, the boy saw a three-story old brick building.

Well enough?

"I gave her a lot of money, but she likes to live in a place like this." The girl nodded and said goodbye to the boy: "You can go in by yourself, I just came out of her place - by the way, tell her that I found you, so that she remembers to abide by our agreement."

"I'm in a hurry. I have to take the sea urchin on a treasure hunt."

Treasure Hunt…?

"I have a feeling that I have seen you before..." The boy raised his eyebrows and stretched out his left hand: "I am Jack, Jack Dawson."

"Mori Tsukisa."

The girl tapped Jack's finger with her fingertips, took two steps back in a daze, and quickly disappeared into the crowded street.

This was the last time Jack Dawson and Ruth DeWittbook saw her.

Chapter 97 Extra 2

London Oil Painting Exhibition, South Bank of the Thames.

The streets are crowded with tourists and this is the most famous art gathering area in the UK. The ancient and modern atmospheres are intertwined, and countless painters and young artists in strange costumes chew candies and pass by the gentlemen and ladies in a strange way.

The black curved cane has not yet left the stage of history, but has been replaced by the fresh trend of silk stockings and shorts. Here, you can see successful middle-aged men in suits and leather shoes chatting with young artists with disheveled hair, casual clothes and cigarettes in their mouths.

It's not just about paintings. Ever since an extremely successful exhibition was held here ten years ago, this annual spectacle has been settled in the central area on the south bank of the Thames.

"Where is the one you want to buy?" The mature woman was wearing a black dress and her brown curly hair fell just on her shoulders.

She wore a luxurious pendant studded with blue gemstones, which fell to her chest, and her face was not too heavy with makeup - which made her look not young, but she easily outshined those young ladies. She twisted and turned in the crowd with her ivory high heels, and held a black silver buckle decorative bag in her hand.

"Jonathan?"

"Hey! I just saw a girl painting with her nostrils!" The man slipped out from beside several young girls like a slippery fish, drinking a glass of whiskey as he walked. He was wearing a black casual suit and a dark blue tie with a dark pattern.

The clothes are nice, but the person wearing them is greasy.

"I told you not to run around!" An inappropriate anger finally emerged on the graceful face of the middle-aged woman. When she frowned and pursed her lips, a strong wild charm quietly revealed itself, which made the outfit look a little ridiculous.

"No, don't do it here! Evelyn! I'm already forty years old!" Jonathan looked left and right while holding the cup. After finding that no young girls noticed his embarrassing behavior, he pretended to be pitiful and begged for mercy from his sister: "I really have to thank O'Connor for marrying you. I don't know how much suffering that poor little girl has suffered..."

"If I were you, I wouldn't say bad things about people behind their backs."

The main topic is here.

He is just like his wife Evelyn, and it seems that time has been especially kind to him. The straight and formal suit does not reflect the slightest sense of old-fashion, but rather adds to the man's formal and mature charm.

The man's bass voice was richer and more powerful than it had been decades ago: "Jonathan, you don't know how happy Evelyn and I are."

"Oh...did she beat you, or did you beat him?"

"Generally speaking, it depends on whose fault it is." O'Connor smiled, snatched the half glass of whiskey from Jonathan and drank it all in one gulp: "If it was my fault, of course she beat me up."

Jonathan rolled his eyes: "If it was her fault, she should have beaten you. Come on! This has been played for many years. When Mori Yuesha was around..."

The man's words caused the elderly couple in front of him to remain silent for a moment.

"Well, I can't bring it up anymore? Then why are we here today? Wearing this clown-like cloth prison that you can't jump or run in, just to come here and be sad for a few seconds?"

Jonathan took the empty cup, turned around, and shouted to a young couple in the crowd, "Baru! Boy, bring your girlfriend over here! Your 'adventure guide' is reminiscing about the past and is starting to feel bad!"

"Come over here and give him a smack on the ass!"

Within a second, his butt was hit hard by the tip of a leather shoe.

Jonathan almost jumped up with his glass!

"O'Connell!" he whispered angrily. "You—"

"Look, you can still move and jump?" O'Connor retracted his toes, leaned back and quickly hid himself behind Evelyn. When Jonathan wanted to come over to fight back, his sister had already glared at him impatiently...

"Okay, okay. Just like a child who hasn't grown up!"

Just as Jonathan was grumbling unwillingly - he pushed through the crowd, with his neat long hair combed into a low ponytail hanging at his waist, the young boy took the girl's hand and walked through the crowd to O'Connor.

"Hey, did you find it?"

"Looking for it." O'Connor replied dejectedly.

O'Connor had mixed feelings about the boy - in some ways, he was very much like himself when he was young. The two little guys had been following them since Mori Tsukisa entrusted him to Evelyn.

Roshida, Baru.

Whether climbing cliffs or diving deep into the sea, these two young people have endless courage and curiosity. It seems that for them, these are no longer surprising.

"Of course, my sister is the surprise," Baloo had said to O'Connor.

is it?

"That painting... let me see... it should be in another exhibition area. Yes, it's right in front!"

Three men and two women walked and looked along the way until their destination, the strange oil painting, appeared in front of them.

It was a free exhibition area, where the paintings were displayed by oil painting enthusiasts. They could not be said to be inferior, but they were certainly not liked by the masters.

Therefore, if you want to buy paintings here, you can't be as pretentious as you were in the previous place - it just so happens that this group of people led by Evelyn don't have any airs of a master.

"That middle-aged man?" Baru whispered, "What are he and that woman talking about?"

It was not until he squeezed through the four young men in the front row that O'Connor could see the two paintings in their entirety.

The one on the left is a dark little room.

The girl was wearing a long, flowing skirt, revealing her slender legs; the lower half of her face was blocked by a neatly opened poker card, revealing only a pair of clear eyes like water.

She held the cards in her right hand and supported the table with her left hand, as if she was waiting boredly for the other party to struggle to the end.

She is sure to win this bet.

——This is the feeling that the oil painting gave O'Connor, and the person in the painting was the girl they had been looking for for many years.

Mori Tsukisa.

The purpose of their coming here.

Whoever painted this painting must have known something.

On the right, the second picture is even stranger: It's a pile of gold coins.

Yeah, it’s hard to imagine, right?

In this trendy era where art is the main focus and young people are involved, there are still oil painters who carefully depict those golden and vulgar things.

Perhaps this is also the reason why this painting, which obviously has superb technique and first-class composition, has not received much attention?

The gold coins were piled up into a small hill, and the girl was still wearing the same clothes, sitting in the pile of gold coins and smiling happily. At the edge of the painting was a pair of women's hands, with a green cat's eye on the index finger.

However, this painting is not as vivid as the previous one.