The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 504 Ch.503 Letter
Randolph Taylor believed that you didn't need to look to the Father of All Things to make a novel a national hit.

He thought so and muttered so quietly.

Bronte showed his fangs for the first time and looked directly at Randolph: "Yes, sir."

She paused for a moment.

"…Of course I will choose to save you."

However, this remark not only failed to make Randolph go deeper into the relationship, but made him straighten his chest slightly, tuck in his sharp chin in a reserved manner, and replied in a deep voice: "I believe in your character, Miss Bronte. Just as you can trust me 100% - I will do the same."

Bronte was stunned for a few seconds, stood up silently, thanked him, and found an excuse to go to the kitchen.

"…That's not a good answer, Randolph."

Randolph pinched his brows and said, "This is the correct answer... Roland."

Roland laughed: "Love is not right."

Beatrice put her arms around Roland's neck, her big eyes flickering with curiosity: "What is 'love', Roland?"

Roland brushed back her loose hair: "Everyone has a different answer."

"Where's Roland?"

Roland thought for a moment and said, "It goes against my own self."

Beatrice didn't understand.

“Do you like painting?”

"like."

"I don't want you to draw anymore, okay?"

Beatrice shook her head quickly: "No!"

"From today on you will never be able to draw again."

Beatrice glared at Roland angrily: "I want to paint!"

"If you keep painting, Randolph will get sick."

Beatrice tilted her head: "Is it sick?"

Roland: "He will die of illness, smelling like a rotten egg, unable to speak again, cold and buried in the earth - if you still want to paint... do you still want to?"

Beatrice turned her head hesitantly to look at Randolph, tears welling up in her eyes: "...I won't paint anymore."

Roland gently touched the corner of her eye and said, "This is love, Beatrice."

But the blonde still didn't understand.

She let Roland get close to her ear and listened to him whisper in her ear:

"Tell Randolph that, Betty. Tell him, 'I love you, brother.'"

Beatrice could not feel the heaviness of these words, but she still imitated Randolph and shouted: "I love you, brother..."

Randolph was touched.

But he still hoped that Beatrice would let Roland go before saying this to him.

…………

……

Regarding the "trouble" in the newspaper, Randolph and Roland agreed (Rose was helping someone with homework at home and had no time to participate in the discussion) to blame the mistakes on the newspaper employees - this would not cost Taylor much money.

There are ways to come up with an explanation around the "mare" to achieve a reversal or even exceed the expected publicity effect, but time is obviously not enough.

And some things, the more you explain them, the more discussion they will cause.

As for the fate of Hines and his daughter, Randolph hopes Roland will give him some time:
After all, this person joined Golden Smoke early on during the Bellos Taylor era and worked diligently for decades.

Randolph needs to think of a reasonable and decent way for him to exit - not only him, but also many old employees in Golden Smoke should unload their "burdens".

"You don't intend to kill him, do you?" asked the businessman.

"I feel like you're planning to kill them," Roland grinned. "No wonder Rose said you're an evil businessman."

"I can't help it. There are too many people working with my father, and not all of them are smart. Roland, they really shouldn't call him 'Little Taylor'."

Second.

Randolph told Roland that once he was done with Hines, he would invite his adopted mother and uncle to serve at the Fountain of Youth—as he had said before, to visit.

At the same time, he also hoped that Roland could recommend a retired executive officer from the Inquisition as a temporary employee.

The meaning is very clear.

This is what they had agreed on before.

Roland readily agreed.

Next up is real estate.

Roland asked Randolph to help him look for some land in the West End of London with a good location and environment and as large an area as possible - he planned to move there, taking his uncle and Yam with him.

"You can be my neighbor now."

"I'd love to, but there don't seem to be any vacancies around."

"There is always a way." Randolph said mysteriously, "Many people who look rich are actually not that rich. If you are willing to spend more, I can even buy their lovers and wives together."

"Of course, this does not include nobles."

"It can only be used, not owned." Roland said he was obscene, and Randolph said Roland was blasphemous and made up a story about the father of all things to corrupt Beatrice.

Roland then accused the Taylors of not paying their debts, and Randolph retorted that there was no fucking dragon.

Roland said how could you give a dragon such a name.

——Teresa, who was baking cookies, suddenly felt that it was not good for these two people to be too familiar with each other. They were like street thugs all day long.

"And one more thing."

Randolph paused and looked at Beatrice who was clinging to Roland: "Honey, we'll be down in a minute, okay?"

The blonde girl tightened Roland's arm and hesitated: "...Then hurry up."

Randolph said of course, kissed his sister on the cheek, and handed her over to Theresa.

The two people went upstairs.

However, as soon as Roland entered the study, he noticed the long-necked vase and several lively lisianthus on the table.

"…You know, ahem, Bronte's little hobby."

Of course Roland knew.

But I'm afraid Randolph doesn't know that.

The flower language of lisianthus is 'consistent love'.

It symbolizes loyalty and innocence.

Obviously, the writer's efforts were in vain.

She should put a gold pound on Randolph's table to indicate that their love was "as eternal as money". Maybe Randolph could even think from this that "she wanted me to chase her like chasing gold pounds" -

Roland thought it was very likely.

"So, something important?" He pulled out a chair and sat down. Apart from the last time he helped the rich people in London make money through 'ocean trade', he was rarely invited to Randolph's study.

The businessman pulled out an opened letter from the drawer and pushed it to him.

The handwriting is crooked.

It read: Taylors (to Mr. Collins).

"I am blind," said Roland.

"I'm a mute." Randolph replied, opening the purchase list and reading it himself.

Roland shrugged.

The words used in the letter were very crude, and the handwriting was like that of a child who had just learned to hold a pen - it was more like a verbal message than a 'letter'.

The signature is Bo Deli.

An unfamiliar surname.

"Come to the Mudball Circus."

"Halida is looking for you."

Only two sentences.

Roland looked at the letter and then at Randolph.

"When did this happen?"

"During the time you were away." Randolph lowered his head, holding up his single-handled tortoise-shell frame glasses in one hand and silently turning on the gas lamp with the other hand. He turned a page, found what he wanted, looked at it for a few seconds, and turned another page: "I remember that woman was from the circus, right?"

Randolph didn't take this low-life seriously.

In his opinion, whether it was Baudelaire or Halida, the intention of these women chasing Roland was obvious:

They hope to be able to reach out and climb to another level as easily as picking leaves from a branch.

They don't have to deal with men who are 20 or 30 years older than themselves.

The target is arguably the most handsome young man in the entire city of London——

Who is not moved?

(Of course, some ladies of ‘noble’ origin still despised Roland’s identity, but Randolph also despised their stupidity.)
So, this letter is a signal.

The meaning of those two lines is no different from sending a pair of lace stockings.

In Randolph's opinion, instead of dealing with these vulgar people, Roland might as well spend some money to rent a long-term, soft-bodied, white-skinned, clean girl from a high-end place.

Let him choose.

To be disrespectful (although Randolph thought Roland would not be angry about this), given his good friend's wealth and appearance, even the highest-class women, those who had a record of entering the house (becoming wives as mistresses), were happy to be "friends" with Roland.

He didn't even need to buy them any jewelry, gold, silver or works of art. They just had to dress neatly, tie their hanging black hair with a gray ribbon, look at a certain place in the room with their eyes that were filled with gold fragments, and lean against the window and stare at it for a while.

Will suffice.

This salary is much higher than that of an executive.

If I do this often, maybe I can open a jewelry store.

This is good, at least, a hundred times better than the person who sent this letter - even the dancers look down on people in the circus.

(Of course the governess wasn’t much better, which is why Theresa hated the Brontës.)
"Spend some money, Roland. Maybe you won't have much to spend."

The businessman held up the lens, not looking up, concentrating on the numbers on the book: "The people in the circus are not clean."

(End of this chapter)