The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 609 Ch.608 Bellos and Theresa

Mr. Taylor, who is called 'Old' Taylor, is not really old.

At least he didn't think he was old at all.

He would eat two large pieces of beef, drink three bowls of soup, with fried fish and prune cakes, and a fried egg for one meal - he could work all night like a machine, and his bones were harder than the little sentry that a sixteen-year-old boy stood guard every morning.

He is middle-aged at best.

Not old yet.

He thought about the trivialities of his business, got on the carriage, cursed the local government for never repairing the roads, and staggered back to his mansion.

There were all kinds of people on the pier.

The dark-skinned porters and the skinny women led their large groups of children. The brown curly-haired men in long robes hawked the clay bowls in the bamboo baskets on their carts. The fair-skinned gentlemen wearing wigs and leg bandages chatted in the alleys, carrying bottles of wine or cigarettes, pointing and laughing from time to time.

Some people were playing poker around a wooden barrel on the street, and there were a lot of coins piled in the plate on the ground.

The newsboys crossed the dirt road and were cursed by the passing drivers with the most vicious words against their parents - the children were even more eloquent, and they only cursed the drivers' wives, saying that half of the men in Porto had been there.

The sound of roosters crowing, the banging of fish tails, the sound of axles, and shouting and cursing.

The mud was mixed with fish bones, spit, snot, and the worn-out socks of prostitutes, brass buttons, shoelaces, feces, stones, and torn playing cards.

This man-made swamp is like a whirlpool that is never picky about its food. Only those with the thinnest, smoothest legs have a chance of being pulled out with help from others.

Bellos Taylor held his chin and watched them go away through the glass quietly.

The carriage would leave the port and head further inland from Porti—a place with more winter and fairer skin.

The houses on both sides of the road had no shutters, their bricks and mud were smeared in a mess, and their doors were crooked.

Some households had torn red cloth hanging on their doors, which meant that they were doing some kind of undignified and insane job.

Many women were sitting at the door with their legs spread out, rubbing the mud off their ankles.

Her man was leaning against the door frame smoking.

Others were hung with black cloth, and foul black smoke oozed from the cracks in the doors that were not closed tightly. From such houses, there were often sounds of beatings and cries of pain, and shifty young men squatted at the door, drinking unlabeled wine and singing the sailors' deep long songs.

'Jenny is a beautiful mare.'

'But I never ride her.'

'I have a whip to whip up--'

'Snapped! Snapped! Snapped! ’

'Snapped! '

'Kevin has arms of different lengths.'

'They call him the clock, O my Lord of Punctuality.'

'I click-click-click with his daughter every day!'

Some people laughed, some people shouted.

Houses are becoming more and more densely packed.

These low huts, which are neither beautiful nor practical, are as scattered and chaotic as the "toy city" built by his Randolph with horse manure paper.

The people living here are just like the house, dry and cracked without any oil or water.

Belos ignored the hell along the way and urged the driver to drive to heaven faster.

As the silver crosses gradually increased, the nauseating stench in the nostrils seemed to be blocked outside that boundary. A cloying fragrance wafted out from the window of the perfume shop.

Bellos stopped the carriage, tapped his cane, went inside and bought two bottles of the most expensive wine and one bottle of medium quality.

"You are so kind to my lady."

The Taylor family's driver was not young, and was not much older than Bellos.

"When she leaves home, I'm afraid there will be no such thing as 'perfume' in the world," Bellos snorted, and couldn't stop smiling when he mentioned his wife. "Tell me, how do they smell so many different scents with their noses?"

He weighed the perfume bottle in his hand and chatted with the driver in a casual manner.

"Yes, sir, a woman's nose is sharper than a hound's. I only went there once... and she smelled it out." The driver mocked himself to please his master, and imitated his wife's shrill voice:
"'You are a scoundrel! You are a heartless person! You spend all your money on those stinking pieces of meat that have been bruised for who knows how many times' - sir, it's like a poodle that roars like a lion..."

The driver's strange voice amused Bellos.

He laughed loudly while "teaching" his servant.

"How can you come home dirty?" he said.

"I swear, sir, I wiped myself and walked around the dock." At this point, the driver couldn't help sighing: "It's a pity that I forgot the wet sock in my pocket..."

Bellows laughed out loud.

"That has nothing to do with the nose, you old thing!"

The driver also laughed: "…She even smelled it, sir, oh, I can't say any more…"

The driver will try to please his master.

Whether using his own story or the dirty story between him and his wife - whether it is true, heard or made up, no matter who the owner of the story is.

Bellos knew this, but what was wrong with a puppet trying to please its master?

"Teresa made some nut rolls. Take them back to your wife and children."

"Mr. Taylor..."

The driver sniffed with emotion.

At least the loud suction could be heard in the carriage.

Bellows smiled knowingly and leaned back against the cushions.

…………

……

Ms. Theresa can be called a 'lady' because her identity is very special - she was Bellows Taylor's maid when he was young and had not yet achieved success, ironing his clothes and taking care of his daily life.

No one dared to disrespect her.

Although her face was no longer as attractive as it was when she was young, her delicate voice was becoming increasingly hoarse due to the ravages of sea breeze and age.

Bellows Taylor still liked her very much.

"Bring him a nut roll."

Bellows Taylor ordered Theresa around, and Theresa ordered the other maids around.

The master and servant went into the house.

"I bought you a bottle of perfume." Bellos looked ahead as if nothing had happened.

Theresa frowned: "...Sir."

"The party was like a shithole filled with dung balls. The fragrance of men, women, and children mixed together, and some people could actually eat - to this day, my nose still hurts..."

"Sir," Theresa said. She was younger than Bellos, and even though her lips wrinkled slightly, her aging face still showed the grace of her youth. "How can a servant compete with a real lady?"

"I think they're worse than you." Bellows shrugged. "They can't clean up my mess."

Theresa turned her head quietly: "...Sir."

Bellos laughed a few times and looked at the serious-looking maid: "Not funny at all?"

"You have to be careful about your words and behavior, so that the young master won't learn from you." Theresa warned her unreliable master: "Randolph is at this age..."

"He should have done this a long time ago," Bellows waved his big hand nonchalantly, walked around the maid who was about to serve him, and threw the cane into Theresa's arms. "The Taylor family's child doesn't play that game. If he dares to talk to me like a little girl trapped in a corset, I will hang him up."

"I'm afraid the lady won't agree."

"She agreed to everything when I came to your room."

Theresa: ...

The annoyed maid had no choice but to chase after him in small steps.

(End of this chapter)