Chapter 1614 Fishing Day (VII)

Chapter 1587 Fishing Day (VII)

Loji closed the book in deep thought. She didn't know when Schiller left this line of text. It might be after the situation in Asgard stabilized, or it might be earlier. But it was perfectly consistent with Loji's view from the beginning to the end.

The doctor had an amazing brain. Loji knew this a long time ago. Unlike others, Loji knew that those opinions that hit the nail on the head were not from some kind of superpower type of mind reading, but more like the result of precise analysis and judgment.

What shaped his views?

The three sentences written in this book made Loji more curious about this. A smart person should always have his reasons for being smart. If he was as smart as Schiller, no one would believe it if there was no story.

Loji put the book back in place and carefully wiped off the traces left by the move. She turned around and continued to look at the room.

The clinic in Hell's Kitchen is not big, and three rooms are crammed into the second floor, so the bedroom seems rather cramped. Even so, two rows of bookshelves against the wall, a row of museum shelves, and a desk by the window are crammed in here, and the bed does not take up much space here.

The whole room is in a wooden brown tone, with some very light smells of wood and ink, which should come from the books displayed on the desk. The most impressive thing is that all the tables and shelves in the room are filled with strange and bizarre crafts.

In the eyes of the Asgardians, these things in the room are not antiques, and from Loki's taste, many of them do not have high commercial value, more like small gadgets like souvenirs, and some even seem to be picked up from somewhere.

Loki can already imagine in his mind that the doctor will pick up some small things in the local shops wherever he goes. Loki even found a few pieces of asteroid fragments, which may be the stars that the cosmic demon smashed during the fight and were picked up by Schiller.

Perhaps in his spare time, Schiller would recall every bit of his past from these items. When Loki thought of this, she couldn't help but smile. This way of remembering the past is quite "human".

But if a person has a thinking tower in his mind that can store countless memory fragments, then the souvenirs are actually redundant, so this looks a bit childish and cutely clumsy, not like what a shrewd doctor would do.

When I think of the fact that the demons in the universe were fighting fiercely at that time, and Schiller, the mastermind behind everything, was neither strategizing behind the scenes nor commanding the charge on the front line, but chasing after the demons to pick up souvenirs, Loki wants to laugh.

But this satisfies a strange desire to peep. If you can see the private side of a well-known perfect person, you will always have a sense of superiority that I am different from others.

Loki is proud. She always believes that no matter when and where, the preferential treatment she gets is what she deserves.

Just like now, she went upstairs directly to Schiller's bedroom, instead of turning around and leaving like Stark, so she naturally deserved these secrets, which was the reward for her wisdom that made her make the right choice.

Loki walked along the two rows of bookshelves on the wall, and she found that the books on the bookshelves were mainly divided into several categories. One category was professional books, most of which were books on psychology and psychiatry, and the other category was folk stories, strange novels, and theoretical books related to literature, art and philosophy.

Loki knew that most human intellectuals were very interested in philosophy, and if they wanted to study psychology, it would be even more inseparable from the world view, so it was not surprising that Schiller liked to read books on philosophy.

Just literature and art...

Loki glanced at the books on the bookshelf. There were many literary masterpieces, representative masterpieces from various countries, and there was no special feature. Loki turned his attention to art books.

What surprised Loki was that the scope of art books was very narrow, almost completely excluding art forms such as music and dance, leaving only fine arts, or plastic arts.

"What do you think of art, ma'am?"

On the vast and peaceful ice field, Schiller wiped the water droplets off his hands with a sapphire blue towel. He had just put a young pike perch that was not very obedient into the water tank. The process was not very complicated, but it was a little thrilling, because as soon as the fish was hooked, it knocked the cigarette out of Natasha's hand with its strong tail.

The side of the female agent's right hand was still red, but she had already taken out another cigarette as if she was impatient. She put one end of the cigarette into her mouth like a thirsty drug addict, bit the cigarette with her teeth, and said vaguely.

"What type of art do you mean? I danced ballet, and I danced it well, but I don't think it is art, at least not for me."

"Russian ballet art is world-famous." Schiller said without comment: "It is different from French ballet. It is not like a circle of decorative lace sewn by extravagant celebrities on the edge of the materialistic era. It is more like a strong declaration of ice, snow and storms."

Natasha raised her eyes slightly in surprise, but soon put her eyes back on her fishing rod, and then said: "I would like to accept your praise on behalf of Russian ballerinas, but you actually know that I don't dance ballet for art, right?"

"For performance? Art is mostly performance."

"That sounds quite insightful, but I have never heard of you having any art education background or related hobbies, doctor." Natasha paused as if searching for memory, and then added: "You seem to never go to the opera house or buy records."

Schiller nodded and said: "But you may not know that I can paint, because I never painted until the day before we set off."

Natasha was really a little surprised now. She was very sure that the people around Schiller, those friends who met him every day, did not know that Schiller could paint.

Natasha felt that her interest became high, and she had some extra curiosity from completing the task of finding out about Schiller's past, and art was actually a topic she could talk about with great substance.

"I have visited the art gallery of the Repin Academy of Fine Arts." Natasha gently wiped the frost on the tip of her chin with the back of her still slightly red hand, and said while recalling: "It is very different from American or European art. As Nick said, Russian art always contains a kind of vitality from suffering. Affection and whining are not the main themes here."

"Suffering may not shape personality, but it usually shapes art."

"Suffering shapes art?" Natasha read this sentence on the tip of her tongue, swallowed back the leading question she was going to ask next, and raised another more philosophical question: "How does suffering shape art?"

Xi Schiller lifted his back from the chair and sat up straight, then sat back, leaned forward, stretched out his hand to fiddle with the fishing rod's shaft, and said: "The cold colors of sadness from suffering always remind people of death, and survival and destruction are the main themes of all art."

Natasha felt that this answer was a bit mediocre, and it didn't sound as amazing to her as before, but then she heard Schiller say: "Forgive me for not being able to answer this question better, ma'am, because if I want to better prove it, I have to start with you."

Natasha was stunned for a moment before she understood what Schiller meant. She had to take a puff of cigarette, and then spit out the smoke in her mouth to cover her sight.

She pulled both sides of her upper lip upwards and said, "Doctor, all your actions in the past have never put me under as much pressure as now."

"Since you still call me doctor, I have to remind you that your lungs are about to be burned by cigarettes, and you haven't caught any fish yet."

"Soon." Natasha turned the reel of the fishing rod violently to lift the fishing line, stretched out her hand to grab the hanging bait dangling in the air, and planned to replace it with a new one.

"I knew that coming here with you would not be good!" Natasha blew another puff of smoke, pressed the remaining cigarette butt hard on the ice and threw it aside, while Schiller just looked at her with some amusement, as if watching a ballet performance.

Natasha decided not to speak, and this female agent always faithfully executed every decision she made. She planned to execute it until the lunch gathering. If Nick and Steve didn't catch any fish, laughing at them would be a good new topic.

But at this time she heard Schiller say again: "Charles should have told you about my experience before college. Do you want to hear about what happened after that?"

Natasha almost covered her forehead. She felt that she had to have another cigarette because she really couldn't help but nod. At the same time, she knew very well that Schiller didn't just want to talk about his own things.

The truth is like a sweet bait - Natasha now understands the true meaning of this sentence. What is the benefit of understanding Schiller? What is the use of this truth? To complete the task? But this is not actually a task. Nick just mentioned it casually. Natasha saw that he had a hard time at work and wanted to help her old boss.

"Well, doctor, I really can't imagine the scene of you being humble when studying. Can you describe it in detail?"

Schiller shook his head and said, "In fact, there is no factor in my study process that can be called humble, or it can be directly said to be the antonym of humbleness."

"Then why do you want to go to college?"

"Because this is what others expect." Schiller also pulled up the fishing line to replace the stale bait. While he was busy, he said, "This is a result that will make everyone very happy, so I went."

"I thought there would always be some surprises in the long four years of life so that I would not regret my original decision, but the facts proved that I was wrong. The whole college life was boring and boring."

Natasha was surprised to find that she actually saw a trace of regret on Schiller's face. It was childish and unlike him.

As we all know, Dr. Schiller is a man who will never regret, or there is no room for him to regret. After all, he has already arranged everything ahead clearly, and all the results are within expectations. What is there to regret?

Natasha was really curious, so she leaned forward and asked tentatively: "You were not you at that time, you were not... a doctor?"

"I'm almost there." Schiller said as if to comfort him. When he put the hook back into the water, he paused for a moment before saying: "What was it like when you first came to the United States?"

Natasha didn't expect him to ask this question. It took her a few seconds to realize what topic Schiller was going to talk about, so she answered like a brick to attract jade.

"No expectations, I have to come, in a hurry, praying that everything goes well, and I can leave here immediately after finishing the business."

"I'm just the opposite of you. I'm excited and full of expectations."