Tokyo: The life of a literary giant begins with home self-defense!

Chapter 319: 49 Days Plan to Occupy Europe 5
It is eight o'clock French time.

A light is on in the stone castle in Provence.

There are more than 300 days of sunshine every year and endless lavender fields.

The girl was writing with her bandaged fingers when the phone rang.

It made a beeping sound, like an urgent telegram.
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People always avoid everything that is harmful to themselves, especially memories that we can use to describe them at will.
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Just like looking at the faint shadow of a mountain range in the distance, it looks whatever you imagine it to look like.

The girl wrote out the paragraph she wanted stroke by stroke, and then picked up the phone when it was about to go offline.

"Hey."

The girl's voice was soft, like a breeze blending into the summer.

"If it's not something urgent, I hope Longchuan won't call me at night."

The girl likes to write at night, with a faint scent of lavender wafting through her nose, and she writes while chatting with the other person.
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Memories, I find, are unreliable things.
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A friend of mine thought what he experienced in his mind was everything, but his memory deceived him.
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He thought he was dead after everything he had gone through.
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Little did he know that it was just a personality change with different memories.

What the girl wrote was probably something like a preface, or it could be called creative inspiration.

"Distant Hills and Pale Shadows" is a story about a protagonist who has suffered a great mental trauma and has blurred memories.

A mother and daughter who suffered from the war, and a mother who regards memories as experiences.

“You ask if it’s possible to recommend you for the Booker Prize?”

After listening to the boy's narration, the girl tapped on the white manuscript paper with the pen cap.

"No problem helping you."

The eldest lady closed her manuscript.

"But is it okay for Miss Takeda to find out?"

The words traveled 692 kilometers to the White Horse Hotel.

Ryuukawa Tetsu stood at the bathroom door and glanced behind him.

"It's okay if you don't tell her."

Longchuan Che was wearing a yukata and looked somewhat relaxed.

If Takeda Shinki knew that he was asking the eldest lady for help, she would definitely not be willing.

Because the British literary journal's regret was due to the girl.

The people of the Kujo family were the culprits who disrupted his plans.

Longchuan Che was afraid that the general manager would be furious if he knew about it.

He quietly asked the girl for help and said he would go to Provence to see her the day after tomorrow.

When Ryukawa Toru returned to the bathroom, Takeda Shinki was lazily soaking in the water.

Flower petals were floating on the wine-red liquid. When Longchuan Che was considering whether to take a shower or continue soaking, the woman hooked her finger at him.

"nailed it?"

The red wine had a scarlet feel on the woman's fair skin.

Longchuan Che watched her press her perky body into a circle against the white bathtub.

The white skin is elastic and tender, and the hot soup in the collarbone seems to make people faint.

"Forget it, guess it."

The woman put her arms around his neck in the bathtub, and Longchuan Che took her out.

It was a little difficult for Takeda Shinki to contact Patrick Modiano, and the eldest lady said that she could let Ryukawa Toru meet him later.

"He may not recommend you for the British Booker Prize. His recommendation is very rigorous."

The eldest lady asked Ryukawa Toru to bring his novel that had been translated into English. It depends on him whether he has the chance to participate in the Booker Prize.

"I found a friend and we have a good relationship."

Longchuan Che took a bath towel and wiped the woman's body, then put her on the bed, still wet.

The woman smelled of red wine and Damascus rose.

The faint blush seemed to seep into the skin.

Longchuan Che saw that she protected her chest with one hand while rubbing the soles of her feet on his thighs.

"Do you still have such friends in Europe?"

Patrick Modiano is the old man of French literature.

He graduated from the Sorbonne in 1966 and devoted himself almost exclusively to literary creation.

"That's for sure."

Longchuan Tetsu grabbed the woman's ankle, with a smug look on his face. In Europe, it is rare for a literary giant to recommend something to an Oriental person, so this time he was able to do so thanks to the eldest lady.

"That's awesome."

Takeda Shinki gave an inexplicable smile and gently lifted the belt around Ryukawa Toru's waist with her toes.

The movements were a bit awkward, and Longchuan Che was stunned.

"Didn't you say half a month?"

Ryukawa Toru's yukata was half open, and behind Takeda Maki was a bath towel used to wipe her body.

The bath towel was white and dry, and Longchuan Che raised the woman's hands that were protecting her body above her head.

Like a white and tender crescent moon, Longchuan Che saw the other person tremble in front of him.

"Today is different."

As if rewarding her capable boyfriend, Takeda Shinki kissed Ryuukawa Toru on the lips.

There was a faint smell of milk in the woman's mouth. Long Chuan Che was stunned and closed his eyes.

I don’t know what the other person is thinking, but the executive lady tonight is particularly tender and cute.

This very fair woman had a tight, white complexion. Longchuan Che stopped only after he saw that the bath towel under her was soaked.

"what happened?"

The clock flickered and it was already past midnight.

The White Horse Hotel now has a bit of the feeling of the Normandy Landing.

The bed sheets and quilt covers were wet in large areas, and Takeda Shinki was hugging Ryukawa Toru and breathing softly.

"fine."

There was a hint of sarcasm in the other person's voice. Takeda Shinki rested her sweaty cheek on Ryukawa Toru's arm before continuing.

"I want to go to Gold with you."

There was a hint of coquettishness in the woman's voice, and Longchuan Che gently stroked the other's fair back.

"Just one day, I'll be back soon."

There was no way Ryukawa Toru would let Takeda Maki meet him, so he kissed the woman in his arms.

"Then we'll go to London and old Billings-Gettysburg together."

The Booker Prize is selected and awarded at the Old Billingsgate in London.

Takeda Shinki remained unmoved and rubbed her head against the other's chest.

"I'm bored in Paris, and I want to go see the flower fields in the south of France with you."

Actually, Paris is not as interesting as Marseille.

There are the majestic Alps and the blue Mediterranean coast.

The fragrance of lavender fills the valley, and Bordeaux wine fills the banks of the Garonne River.

"this…"

Longchuan Che was a little hesitant. He didn't know what would happen if the executive master met the eldest lady.

"If Patrick Modiano doesn't want to see me, I'll be waiting for you at home."

The woman said softly, and at that moment Longchuan Che almost thought it was his wife.

She is beautiful and charming, with natural charm.

"alright."

I feel like something is odd, but I can't figure out what it is.

When Longchuan Che went to take a shower, the woman dragged her tired body to Longchuan's bag and took out a small card.

The card had a girl's name and a number starting with 070 written on it.

"You won't let me go to Anto Whiteman for help, but you go to another woman."

Takeda Maki tore the business card into pieces with a slight smile.

Her body was stained red, and there were traces of mud on the sides.

"I'll tell you this time..."

Takeda Shinki narrowed her eyes without any tenderness.

"Why do I have the final say over the Takeda family?"

(End of this chapter)