And so, the two of us arrived in Shanghai. To prevent Mathilde's father from finding us, we both changed our identities, went into hiding, and cut off all contact with our families. We treasured the painting and the sheepskin book, and spent an unforgettable period of our lives together. But one year later, the Sino-Japanese War broke out, and Shanghai was engulfed in flames. On a September day in 1937, when Mathilde went out to buy things, she happened to encounter a Japanese air raid and was forever taken away from me. At that time, I was grief-stricken and didn't know how to go on, but I thought of the painting "Margaret" and the sheepskin book. I had to live on for them.
During the eight years of the war, I hid the painting and the sheepskin book in a secret place to ensure that they were not destroyed by the war. It wasn't until after the war that I met a Chinese woman by chance. Although I still missed Mathilde, I knew that life had to go on. I married this Chinese woman and later gave birth to your father. Now you should know that she is your grandmother who passed away many years ago.
After liberation, I became a university art teacher, but I always kept that secret, never talked about my past or spoke any foreign languages, and simply lived in obscurity, spending the rest of my life.
Up to this day, so many years have passed, and when I recall that night in Paris, Mathilde's face is so clear, it makes me feel like it was just yesterday. Is this a sign that I am about to enter another world? Will I be reunited with her there? If that's the case, then I will die without regrets.
Lin Hai, my dear grandson, have you seen a portrait in the attic? It was copied from the painting "Margaret", and I've always hung it there because that's where my youth is buried. I've never allowed you to climb up to the attic because I didn't want you to be enchanted by the woman in the painting. I know that you have inherited my appearance and character completely. Although you are only eleven years old this year, you are just like me when I was young. I am afraid that you will fall into the same pain as I did in the future.
As for the sheepskin book I brought from France, I hid it under the old tiger window in the attic of the old house. There is a small compartment there, and you can find it.
What you most want to know now is probably the whereabouts of the real "Margaret" oil painting from four hundred years ago. I have already hidden it in a place that no one can ever think of.
At this moment, my heart is in conflict, should I tell you the whereabouts of the painting? I am afraid that if you find the painting, it will bring you endless trouble or even danger!
So, I have decided not to tell you the answer, but I can give you a hint - she has returned to the womb.
You can think it over for yourself, fate will provide you with the answer.
I will put this letter in the bank's safe deposit box, because besides you, as an adult, no one can see the secrets recorded in the letter.
Before I die, I will give the portrait hanging in the attic and the certificate of the bank safe deposit box to your father, and instruct him not to give these two things to you unless it is absolutely necessary.
But I know that one day you will get into trouble, you will feel a splitting headache and be torn between two sides. Only by exploring grandfather's past can you solve your dilemma.
Lin Hai, after reading this letter, you will surely understand your grandfather, won't you?
Grandpa loves you forever and blesses you in another world.
Lin Danqing
January 10, 1995
In the dimly lit cafe, Lin Hai trembled as he finished reading the entire letter, as if a ghost had been whispering in his ear all along. This was his grandfather's letter, ten years late, and his eyes were getting a little sore, as if some ancient liquid was about to escape his sockets.
While reading the letter, Lin Hai also translated its contents into French for Marguerite. Many of the things mentioned in the letter were beyond Marguerite's understanding, and Lin Hai patiently explained them to her. When he finished reading the whole letter, Marguerite's face also changed a bit. She leaned back and shook her head, saying, "It's too incredible."
But she didn't get an answer from Lin Hai. He just stared at the letter blankly, looking like he had turned into a fool. It took him a long time to nod meaningfully and say, "I understand."
"What do you understand?" Marguerite asked.
"Although not everything, I've already figured out some of it."
Lin Hai stopped talking and lowered his head for a moment, especially about the whereabouts of the four-hundred-year-old "Marguerite" oil painting. Grandpa didn't say it explicitly, just that it was "hidden in a place no one could think of." Where could that be?
The last sentence of the letter had a hint - "she has returned to the womb."
God knows what "womb" means! Could it mean back to France? Lin Hai shook his head helplessly, unable to understand his grandfather's words. Maybe his grandfather didn't want to tell him, and wanted to keep the painting forever a mystery.
However, there might be someone who could help him solve the problem.
That person was in Paris.
Yes, why not tell him everything in the letter? Since Grandpa's story took place in France, it would be possible to investigate the La More family in France for new discoveries, right?
Lin Hai had made up his mind. He would send the contents of the letter in an email to Paris.
It was getting difficult to read the letter in the cafe, and with the time it took to translate for Marguerite, it was already almost dark outside. They ordered some snacks, and treated it as their dinner.
At seven o'clock in the evening, they hurriedly ran out of the cafe. The rain was still falling outside, and there weren't many people on the road outside the university's back gate. Lin Hai grabbed Marguerite and they ran to a nearby internet cafe.
Marguerite was still curious about the place and kept asking questions, but Lin Hai didn't answer much. He sat in front of a computer, opened his email, and wrote a thousand-word email with the content of his grandfather's letter. He then sent the email to the writer in Paris - who was below the Notre-Dame Cathedral at that time.
Lin Hai quickly made a phone call to Paris. It was afternoon in Europe, and the writer was at the foot of Notre Dame Cathedral.
After the phone call, Lin Hai and Marguerite sat in the internet cafe for a while. Lin Hai was very depressed and stared blankly at the computer screen, not answering any of Marguerite's questions.
It wasn't until Marguerite asked in a strange tone, "Lin Hai, have you figured it out?" that he reluctantly nodded and said, "Yes, I figured it out. My grandfather wrote in his letter that the 400-year-old painting of 'Marguerite' had already been switched in the 1930s, and the authentic one was taken to China. The one displayed in the Saint-Louis Museum in France was just a fake painted by my grandfather."
Marguerite seemed prepared for this news and struggled to remain silent.
Lin Hai shook his head and continued in agony, "Since the painting in the Saint-Louis Museum is fake, how could the ghost of Princess Marguerite from 400 years ago appear in the fake painting completed in the 1930s? If the ghost really exists, it should be in the authentic painting my grandfather brought to China. So, all the lies you told me before are now exposed!"
"I'm sorry, please forgive me," said Marguerite with a pained expression. She was forced to lift her head but couldn't meet Lin Hai's gaze.
"Tell me, what is the reason for this? Why did you lie to me?" Lin Hai asked, but Marguerite shook her head and ran out of the internet cafe.
Lin Hai quickly threw down some money and chased after her, shouting loudly, "Marguerite!"
It was a rainy night in Shanghai.
In the morning, although the sky in Paris was still not clear, it was still calling me to go out, or else it would be impossible to see in a few days.
Orleans Professor and Yu Li were still locked in the research room, discussing something. I felt like a piece of meat waiting to be chopped up.
Since that was the case, I decided to have some fun first. In the morning, I ran out of the Voltaire University and headed to the famous Orsay Museum.
If you want to see the works of the classical masters, you should go to the Louvre, but if you want to see modernism, you should go to Orsay. The Orsay Museum was converted from an abandoned train station in 1986 and features many works by Renoir, Angell, Monet, Manet, and Van Gogh. My biggest gain at Orsay was seeing Van Gogh's authentic works. The genius who once cut off his own ear used his brushes and paints to show another world. There was also Burne-Jones' "The Wheel of Fortune," with the man entangled in the wheel appearing so helpless both physically and spiritually, it was simply perfect to the extreme. Finally, I looked at the famous statue of Saint Mark for a long time. The Venetian guardian was riding a double-winged lion, sitting in a mermaid-like posture. I wondered if the author had given it a special meaning?
It was already noon when I left Orléans. I hastily ate a piece of cake by the roadside and then took the metro straight to Notre-Dame de Paris. As I stood at the foot of the cathedral, gazing up at its towering spire, my phone suddenly rang. It was Lin Hai's number.
I quickly answered Lin Hai's call. He said he had made a very important discovery, and he had sent an email with all the details. He urged me to check my email as soon as possible. I promised to do so, but since I was already at Notre-Dame, I decided to climb to the top before checking my email.
In 1163 AD, Pope Alexander and King Louis VII laid the foundation stone of Notre-Dame de Paris. It was not completed until 1345 AD, after being damaged by war and undergoing restoration. Today, this iconic building still stands. Notre-Dame usually only opens one or two of its three doors. The middle door is rarely opened, supposedly only once every 25 years. Those who pass through it can cleanse themselves of their sins from the past 25 years and pray for blessings in the next 25 years.
When in Paris, one must climb to the top of Notre-Dame to get a view. However, the queue is long since everyone wants to do the same. After waiting for more than two hours, I finally had the opportunity to step onto the top of the tower and also had a glimpse of Quasimodo's bell tower. The most famous thing at the top of Notre-Dame is undoubtedly the small stone monsters. Under the gloomy April sky, they overlook the crowds of Paris and have witnessed the joys and sorrows of humanity for centuries. I took some photos of the stone monsters, and behind them were wings, making them look like angels. With their hands supporting their chins, they seemed to be contemplating. I was convinced that they had a spiritual presence.
After only 10 minutes on the tower, I hurriedly descended since I had waited in line for more than two hours. As I was leaving Notre-Dame, I unexpectedly ran into Jacques, the homeless man, in the square.
In the vast sea of people in the Parisian metropolis, I had encountered him three times in just a few days, which was quite remarkable. Jacques somehow managed to get a suit, and he enthusiastically wanted to hug me. As a Chinese, I don't have such a custom, so I clasped my fists in a greeting instead.
I had intended to go back to the Université Paris Diderot as quickly as possible, but Jacques held me back. It turned out he wanted to take me for a drink, and he had probably come into some money by some stroke of luck. Considering that he had helped me recover my wallet the last time we met, I owed him a favor. As China has always been a country of etiquette, I couldn't let this foreigner look down on me. So, I agreed to go, and I would treat him instead.
Jacques took me to a small roadside bar where we had a few drinks. Our alcohol tolerance was poor, and Jacques soon began to ramble incoherently in his terrible English. He used the word "friend" repeatedly, and it seemed like we had become good friends. I couldn't help but feel a little self-deprecating since I had accomplished nothing in Paris for the past few days, but I had made such a foreign friend.
Although Jacques insisted on paying, in the end, I paid for him, considering the debt of gratitude I owed him.
At 8 pm, I returned to the University of Voltaire. Without having time to visit Professor Orleans and Yu Li, I hurriedly ran up to the top floor of the History Department and logged onto my laptop. As expected, I received an email from Lin Hai that was over a thousand words long. I struggled to read through the entire contents and couldn't help but gasp in shock.
It was unbelievable - the parchment book was actually acquired this way! And the oil painting "Margaret" was actually a fake. The real Margaret, painted four hundred years ago, had been brought to China in the 1930s and had been missing ever since.
How could anyone believe these things? I paced around the room, shaking my head and wondering if there was a Chinese youth named Lin Danqing in this campus in the 1930s, just like me, pondering over the same questions.
No, I had to tell Professor Orleans about these things. Since Lin Hai was willing to tell me his grandfather's story, that meant I was his only hope. I had to help him unravel the mystery!
I immediately ran down the stairs and found that Professor Orleans' office was still lit up. He and Yu Li were analyzing something together. I interrupted their conversation and told Yu Li everything that was in the email.
Yu Li was obviously taken aback. After translating the message to Professor Orleans, the atmosphere in the room became extremely tense. I stared at their faces in amazement, as if I was looking at two blocks of ice.
Professor Orleans finally spoke, and Lin Hai's words were translated to me: "The Lamar family you mentioned just now is actually the descendant of De La More, the lover of Queen Margaret."
"But wasn't he executed? How could he have descendants?"
But then I thought of "The Red and the Black." Wasn't there also a Lamar Count family in there?
Yu Li shook her head and replied, "The Lamar family has many branches, many of which are descendants of De La More's brothers and nephews. However, the Lamar family you mentioned earlier is actually very special. A few years ago, a family tree was discovered in the south of France, which records the history of this family. It is said to be a phantom family, secluded in a remote valley in southern France, rarely interacting with the outside world. Many people have died in their hands over the centuries." But then Yu Li and Professor Orleans looked at each other and nodded, "However, what historians are most interested in is that this Lamar family is actually the descendant of the illegitimate child born to De La More and Princess Margaret."
"What did you say? De La More and Margaret had an illegitimate child?"
Although I had read a lot of materials in recent days, I had never seen such a claim before. Wasn't this kind of scandalous history just like the gossip in Chinese palace dramas?
"This is not a novelist's imagination, but a fact that Professor Orleans has confirmed after several years of research. Based on a large number of court archives and records, there is ample evidence that Margaret's figure gradually changed after De La More was executed on April 30, 1574. She secretly gave birth to a son in the palace in mid-November of that year. Her husband, Henry, never acknowledged the child, and Queen Catherine immediately sent the child out of the palace, believing him to be a bastard."
"So you believe that this child is the flesh and blood of De La More?"
"Yes, it is more accurate to say that he is De La More's posthumous child."
"I understand now why Margaret wanted to be buried with her lover's head, because she knew that she carried the seed of her lover in her womb," I said.
At this point, Professor Orleans muttered a few words to Yuli, who nodded and said, "But more importantly, she wanted to give a gift to her unborn son."
"A gift?"
"Yes, today Professor Orleans and I have already figured it out. According to the parchment scroll you provided, not all of it is in the handwriting of Louis IX. Some of the words were added by later generations in the sixteenth century, which can be seen from the font and spelling. Based on these sixteenth-century words, we can be sure that it is related to the court of the Valois dynasty, and Margaret was in the court at that time."
"So you think that the gift that Margaret wanted to give to her illegitimate son is the secret of 'Louis IX's mystery'?"
"You are very smart, just as expected from a writer of psychological suspense. Yes, after the execution of de la Mole, Margaret was devastated. She had intended to end her life, but thinking about her unborn child, she had to endure and carry on. She not only had to live on bravely, but also had to leave the most important wealth in the world for her illegitimate child with de la Mole, so that he could avenge his father, become the king of France, or even the ruler of the world in the future."
"My goodness, is this secret really so important?"
"At least many people strongly believe so. It can be inferred that Margaret must have known about this secret at the time, but her mother-in-law forbade her to leave the court and essentially placed her under house arrest in the Louvre. She also considered that in the future, her child might be taken away by someone else by force, and she would not be able to tell her child the secret. Therefore, she had to use a very discreet method to record the information of the secret, so that she could pass it on to her child in the future."
But I shook my head and said, "This is really too incredible. These are all your conjectures, do you have any evidence?"