The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 173: Mud Ball Circus

Xiandel and Roland met at the door of the court.

(To be honest, Roland thought that apart from the Inquisition, there weren't many "familiar" intersections between them.)
Since it was a 'date', Roland did not wear the old-fashioned church uniform today.

He wore a high-necked shirt with a lot of dark patterns, and over the vest was a long tweed trench coat with soft fabric that reached his calves, and a warm cape that reached his hips.

A not-too-tall black silk flat-top hat, a shiny black lacquered wooden cane, and sheepskin gloves of the same color.

A pair of dark brown leather shoes.

Elegant yet not too formal.

Same with Shandel Kratov and Roland.

Wool stockings with black leather high-heeled boots. Inner skirt, hip pads, outer hip pads, outer petticoat, corset, high-necked lace lining, outer skirt - of course, Roland himself didn't know much about these little secrets of the girls.

When he looked out from the carriage, all he could see was a very well-educated, gray-haired girl.

A turquoise outer skirt with the same pleated lace pattern as the neck;
The dress is cut in many layers, with the neckline, chest and cuffs sewed in copper-colored tulle.

She was dressed in animal furs and had her long gray hair hidden in a tweed lace-trimmed bonnet.

The top of the head is tied with a gray ribbon of the same color as the hair.

Not so much pretty, but elegant.

It would be better to say that her dress today is in line with her actual age.

Cute and innocent.

A carefree girl.

"Good day, Roland."

Roland couldn't remember when she started calling herself 'Roland'. The young man sitting in the carriage was in a trance for a moment - as if this beautiful, sometimes angry, sometimes sweet gray-haired girl was not the same person as the one who sneered and looked down on others in the slums.

"Good day, Miss Kratov."

Roland got off the carriage, put the top of his hat against his chest, and bowed slightly.

"You look so beautiful today, like a piece of work made by the best tailor."

"Oh?" This was a kind of 'courtesy compliment' that Shandel had never heard before. It was different from the boring compliments she was tired of hearing every day. "The tailor's creation? Me?"

"You are like a rose he made from a piece of precious grey yarn..." Roland smiled gently. In the winter, the golden light in his eyes seemed even cleaner and clearer. "...And when I looked back one day, I was surprised to find that this hand-sewn rose had actually grown a new petal."

"Its beauty was blessed by the benefactor and given life."

The girl was very happy. She nuzzled Roland and approached him affectionately: "Call me Shandel, not Kratofer."

She exhaled a white mist, and her body smelled faintly of freesia.

"Just like I called you Roland."

Recently, the city of London has been dressed up in an exceptionally "fancy" way - to be honest, Roland seldom uses the word "fancy" to describe London and the people who live in this city.

Whether poor or rich.

They all abide by the different rules of different classes, have stern faces, and eat, dress, walk and sit every day.

But things have changed slightly recently.

Because of two things.

the first:

Christmas is coming.

Looking out from the carriage, the streets were hung with holly branches and mistletoe - more holly and less mistletoe (because it was expensive).

There are also many vendors who bring children to wander the streets, picking up holly branches that have "fallen" on the ground, and even breaking into other people's homes to "pick them up".

The police were kept busy all day by this ridiculous and stupid incident.

Christmas, that's one of the reasons to be fancy.

Secondly,…

The Mud Ball Circus is here!
This large circus that is held all year round in various parts of the country is extremely well-known. In addition to relying on the publicity methods of the actual owner, the Mud Ball Circus itself is also far more interesting than other inferior acrobatics.

To some extent, they are even as popular as "Delis of the Benefactor". However, one is in the ears of the general public, and the other is under the tongue of the upper class.

Roland had never been to the opera house to see the song and dance troupe named after the hero, but today he would get to see another equally popular group.

"Mudball Circus, where did the name come from?"

In the carriage, Roland and Cinder chatted idly.

They crossed the city and headed for Hampstead Green, a suburb of London.

This place with convenient transportation and beautiful scenery is widely welcomed by Londoners - of course, at least the "citizens" who can afford better leather shoes.

People often come here to picnic with their families on holidays, including some of the new rich who like to buy property and land here.

"That's what Mr. Lyle said."

Shandel obviously liked the circus very much, and even remembered the words of its owner clearly: "Mr. Lyle's conversation at a banquet was published in the newspaper. He said-"

'My children and I have lived in the mud.'

'We are the outcasts, the dirt balls. Lowly, dirty, and unappreciated.'

'But now, we can face these good or bad views calmly...'

'We were first sought after, and suddenly we were warmly welcomed. Pounds and flowers were pouring down like a waterfall.'

'We become balls of silver, balls of gold, balls of jewels in their eyes.'

'But you tell me, should I admit that we are gems?'

'We are mudballs. Funny, excellent, and happy mudballs. We don't forget our origins, nor do we make up the past.'

'We are open and bring joy to everyone.'

Shandel's tone was subtle.

She said that Mr. Lyle had been very active a few years ago, appearing in newspapers as often as those fancy serial love stories - he first began by complaining about the difficulties of the circus and the hard life, and sought funding in major newspapers.

Later, after he gained some fame, he began to boast about his "wide knowledge" - his experience of touring around had indeed given him a lot of topics to talk about.

For example, he once wrote in a newspaper about a "murder case" he had heard of in a certain place:
A drunkard attended a friend's banquet and then went to the tavern to continue drinking. When he got home, he was finally too drunk to fall in front of the fireplace. The hook of the stove fork just happened to catch the back of his collar and strangled him to death.

The local police investigated the case for more than a month but could not catch the murderer. The case caused a sensation. Finally, it was one of his children who spoke up and gave Lyle an idea.

He immediately went to the police and told them what happened, and the truth of the case came to light.

——Such interesting anecdotes not only entertain the public, but also make people think that he is indeed knowledgeable.

But some people are not very happy.

Because Mr. Lyle especially likes to express his "unique" views on the news in the newspaper, calling it "providing small help" - for example, a young man in a certain place used all his assets to open a coffee shop.

But he soon went bankrupt due to poor management, and he was so devastated that he committed suicide by taking poison.

Lyle immediately commented: "If he had a heart as hard as iron as mine, he wouldn't have to die. It's really bad news that he committed suicide by taking poison - but as far as I know, his parents died of a cold six months ago..."

'His parents didn't have to learn of their son's death and grieve over it.'

'Look, this is really good news again.'

Another example:
One article warned that poisoned pickled rat meat was being sold in the slums, killing a dozen children.

Lyle immediately commented: "I agree with the warning in this news - we can't kill rats indiscriminately anymore."

Those indecent stories in most indecent newspapers, which are funny, or involve x-topics and family secrets, are called by some critics: the sewer of human nature.

Similarly, Mr. Lyle was given a similar title by them.

Sewer rats.

But he never gets tired of it and is loved by the public year after year.

——Because he truly embodies the self that citizens dare not express but is truly real.

Roland now understood why Shandel's tone was subtle when talking about him.

(End of this chapter)