Chapter 593 Ch592 Primitive People

Chapter 593 Ch.592 Primitive People

With Cavendish being so confident, he expected that the number of rings would not be too low.

And when Randolph inquired, she was indeed in line with Roland's judgment of her all the way: he was very proud to tell his 'fiancé' that she had become an official ceremonial person.

"…What?"

Randolph didn't hear clearly.

"I say, the official ceremonial person, Mr. Taylor." She pursed her lips, and her two slender but still plump eyebrows moved closer to her eyebrows - she was a little annoyed that she shouldn't have spoken out on this occasion, and should have waited until later. During dinner, after a few glasses of wine, and the conversation was in full swing, Barton, the butler, was present.

At that time, his fiancé should understand what it means to be a formal ceremony person.

It means a possibility that is perhaps infinite.

At her age, becoming a First Ring Ritualist is indeed something to be proud of.

Ritualists are not common.

"I guess you don't quite know... Oh, can I call you Randolph?"

Randolph gave a stiff smile: "Why not, Hayan."

"Great," the woman nodded rather reservedly, glanced at the poor man next door who was crazy about oysters, and said in a steady voice: "The boundary between mortals and ritualists is just like the boundary between the poor and you and me, Randolph. There are An unbridgeable gap..."

"Forgive me for being arrogant, but this really cannot be expressed in words - if one day you become a ritual practitioner, you will understand what I mean."

A flying look flashed in his conservative and steady eyes.

"It is an unprecedented magical realm. We see invisible things with our eyes, and use our extended limbs to touch another level of 'world' - the real world. That is the backside that mortals cannot touch in their entire lives... False The backside of the world.”

She spoke like a long poem, and the birds and ribbons on the top of her hat swayed and trembled.

"We will one day arrive at true...reality."

Randolph listened carefully and sighed softly: "That's a pity."

he said.

"I don't have such an opportunity, Hayang. If I did, I would risk everything to see the 'reality' you call it."

"Yes, but some people are always willing to find ritual practitioners to accompany them. It is precisely because they are aware of this and want to gain a chance for their descendants..." It is self-evident what Hayang implies.

She walked over lightly, and after noticing that Randolph's smile was even brighter, she even more 'pointed out' this man who was all-powerful in the London business world.

"I don't know how much honor those tobaccos have brought to the Taylor family, Randolph. We should pay more attention to tradition, continue the bloodline of Cavendish, and revive the glory of the 'primitive people' in the past - this is what we should really do for Something to strive for in life.”

Primitive people?

Randolph was stunned.

"What 'primitive people', Hayan?"

Claudia Hayan Cavendish has no explanation.

She just smiled at Randolph and changed the subject lightly: "I went to school, can speak three languages, and started managing the servants of the old house three years ago. Not to mention ordinary sewing, if you want to talk to me about painting , literature, music, even sculpture - I am very interested in these, and recently started reading books about tobacco..."

Randolph narrowed his eyes: "You must be a good wife."

Hayan showed just the right amount of shyness: "That depends on who my husband is."

Actually.

A real lady would not say these words herself.

Roland didn't know, but Randolph had seen a lot of them - generally speaking, it was difficult for you to talk about such 'transgressive' topics with these unmarried girls: before that, you would be looked at or spoken to by the servants who were watching you. He cut off his words fiercely.

Each of them has their own abilities, but they never tell others about them in person, and they are always served by servants when they go out.

They may read poetry in private, write poetry, archery, horseback riding...drilling, mining, throwing discus - in short, you can't know what kind of 'special skills' the girl in the box has until you fully possess them -

And these unique skills will gradually flourish in marriage...or disappear completely.

It depends on the husband, and what she thinks.

No truly decent and well-educated girl would run up to the man she loves and say: I can speak three languages, manage servants, have gone to school, and like painting and literature.

Unless she wants to elope with you.

If this is the case, men only have one thing to consider.

You'd better pray that her hobby is not throwing discus, and that she doesn't have metal products in her hands - otherwise, when she abandons her family, parents, brothers and sisters, and escapes through some difficult operations, she will have to face a 'sorry' The answer…

It's hard to say whether human flesh is harder than metal.

uncertain.

But no fool would try.

Of course there are no such cases.

For example, Randolph once heard at a banquet that a girl from a good family was divorced by her fiancé, who had already set a wedding date, causing her to be completely embarrassed in the circle - for a long time, there was no man. I'm willing to come back to this girl who 'must have something wrong with something'...

Then.

She found an opportunity for autumn hunting, met the dashing gentleman on the hunting ground, and accidentally fired, hitting him in the back of the head with two bullets.

It turns out that human flesh is no stronger than metal, and there are many hobbies more dangerous than discus throwing.

Such as hunting, such as talking without keeping your words.

so.

There was something ridiculous about his cousin.

The Cavendish family wanted to bring out the best and show 'nobility' and 'elegance' in front of him - Randolph could only say that this approach was completely wrong.

Country people.

This is his judgment on the Cavendish family.

Even if they were extremely wealthy, no one in Porto Porti knew about them.

Still a country boy.

Roland was younger than her and was already the executive officer of the Tribunal. His friend looked younger, and he was already a ritualist who could quietly climb over the wall and enter the house in the middle of the night——

Although he didn't like Rose doing this, and he didn't like that after he said, 'You can't do this, you'll get hurt easily,' she would reply, 'Did you use the same words to Miss Bronte?'...

Roland's problem is highly contagious.

oh.

Speaking of Roland…

Roland…

Where is Roland? !

Randolph turned around quickly.

There was no trace of the black-haired young man in the crowd.

soon.

A ‘date’ between three people turned into a ‘reasonable date between two people’ – and then after Randolph discovered Roland’s disappearance, it turned into ‘me and the country girl looking for my idiot friend’…

It took about ten minutes.

Randolph finally found his idiot friend in an alley.

The other party bought a bag of new 'specialties': long shrimps fried in butter. He held the strips rolled up in oil paper and occasionally took one out and put it in his mouth, squeaking and chewing.

He was looking at a group of kids.

Perhaps they were children that tenants, boatmen or traders had no time to take care of. They were rolling up their sleeves, wearing the cheapest plaid hats, and wearing shoes two sizes too big. They were shouting and shouting, surrounding a dying baby. , strange tabby cat.