Oxford Street is a very interesting place, and it is also an indispensable street in London. It almost meets the most anti-stereotype in everyone's memory. It does not have the indifference and arrogance passed down from the classical era, but is surprisingly similar to New York.

Young, enthusiastic, easy to be passionate and materialistic.

Kitahara and Feng like this street very much: even though they are relatively steady in their usual performance, he is a young man who has never lived to be thirty in his life. Naturally, he likes some lively scenery - even if this kind of lively has nothing to do with him, he is willing to enjoy it for a while.

Besides, he agreed, and he had to wait for someone here.

"Oxford Street is like a microcosm of the rock era. Although many old-fashioned people are unwilling to admit it, this is what a more modern and freer London should look like."

Byron opened the beer with a smile, and watched the white bubbles surge up, and the emerald green eyes were filled with smiles.

He chanted in a melodious voice like a renarrative: "Life, passion, and love that is flooded with people's mouths and noses. The girl's snow-white breasts and sweet wine, intricate stories and the saddest and most passionate songs - Oxford Street can buy everything in this world, including the soul."

"But I have nothing to buy."

Kitahara and Feng narrowed their eyes and smiled, walking on the street with each other: "I am very satisfied with everything I have in my life, but I just like this kind of excitement."

The traveler reached out and touched the humid air, as if he had pierced a string of foam that had accidentally floated in the deep sea, and the orange-gold eyes reflected the scenery of people coming and going.

"But it's quite friendly here... all kinds of promotions and discounts, lively crowds, a dazzling array of goods and bright lights."

Kitahara and Feng took a few steps, their eyes stayed on a sign that was being released, and their lips were laughing and laughed: "There is still a shirt of nine pounds and fifteen pence."

Since high school in his previous life, he has been accompanying his English listening. It has appeared in front of him as a reality. It is also quite interesting.

The red-haired transcendent blinked, obviously not understanding his friend's strange laugh points, couldn't help but say:

"I have to say, Kitahara's sometimes humorous way of you is even stranger than the British in the eyes of the public."

Kitahara and Feng raised their eyes, then bent slightly, and replied with a smile: "This is the unique humor of our mother star, and I can't do anything about it."

"Okay, it turns out that you are an alien. Tell me what purpose you have to go to Earth!"

"Because..." Kitahara and Feng tilted their heads innocently, looking quite harmless, "Are you lost?"

"Puff, cough, okay, I admit that you're saying this new joke is pretty good." Byron coughed with a smile, and reached out to pat Kitahara and Feng on the shoulders, "Are you going to wait here? Elliot doesn't necessarily come back so soon."

Since Elliot left, Kitahara and Feng have been shopping here for a long time every day.

Most of the time he relies on his personal charm to chat with people who buy and sell things, otherwise he would write in a cafe, look at Wilde, who was wandering around the streets, or even just stood quietly on the corner of the street that was not noticeable and looked at the scenery composed of people here.

Byron always accompanied his friends and walked along the streets, chattering and talking a lot of things, and didn't think about when to leave to do his own thing.

After all, he has no particular connection in London, and most of his friends have someone to accompany him. The only person who can depend on each other is probably this also a little lonely traveler.

Even Austin has been idle recently and has been entangled with Dickens: It is said that Dickens wants to fool the expensive lady into joining his rural women's support program, but at present, his progress in persuading people to join is just like Jingwei's reclamation, which highlights a "distance of nowhere".

"What if? And I have said that even if I don't wait for anyone, I like it very much."

Kitahara and Feng tilted their heads and reached out to catch them.

I reached the leaves on my face, looked up at the acacia tree, breathing deeply in the humid air, and my posture was a little comfortable.

It's the taste of summer.

"I used to think that London would become dull under such high-pressure monitoring and confinement measures, and sooner or later it would suffocate under the wrapping of water mist and low pressure. But London is still alive, in its own way."

The traveler said.

"Of course London is still alive, otherwise I wouldn't have been willing to stay in a lifeless city for so long."

Byron muttered in a low voice, then leaned his arm against Kitahara and Feng's shoulders, and took the initiative to press it over, his tone sounded unexpectedly aggrieved:

"I'm afraid that it will suddenly rain brings you to a cold. The heavy rain in London has always been unreasonable."

Kitahara and Feng raised their eyebrows lightly and said in a half-joking tone: "Don't you have superpowers?"

He still remembered the heavy rain that they encountered on the sea together. Not to mention anything else, it was definitely a trivial matter to evaporate the rain that was about to fall on his body.

"But the use of superpowers with excessive danger ratings on the streets of London will be captured and drunk with black tea!"

Mr. Transcendent protested: "If Orwell caught the handle, he might not be able to run away so easily... Well, it is not very important. After all, he owes Shelley what he originally had, so I shouldn't be stopped even if I want to leave."

As Byron spoke, his voice, who was originally righteous, became hesitant and hesitant as he was almost convinced.

"It's really no problem to use superpowers to roast the fire."

Mr. George Byron pondered for two seconds and said in a very serious tone: "In this way, if Kitahara is soaked by the heavy rain, and sneezes pitifully in the corner of the street, then I can appear glamorously, show a very handsome smile in front of you, and then dry you, pack you and take you to the hotel to open a room."

“…”

Kitahara and Feng, who had long given up correcting some inappropriate words, were silent for a few seconds. In the end, they still couldn't control their curiosity and asked, "Where are you looking at the content?"

"It seems like several novels that are widely circulated among ladies?"

Byron deliberately opened the pair of emerald green eyes that looked particularly innocent and pure, as if he could not feel the problem contained in the passage he had just said: "Is there any problem, Kitahara?"

There are so many problems.

Kitahara and Feng held their foreheads helplessly, and suddenly missed the good-looking and clever Elliott, who had almost no worries except clingy and possessiveness.

It would be great if these two people could neutralize their personalities, but it is obvious that this could only exist in fantasy.

——Are you too mediocre and a person who does not have his own strong traits cannot become a psychic? He always feels that the psychics he knows are more or less extreme, or the kind of pure and irrefutable extreme.

But it is indeed so pure that it makes mortals envious.

Kitahara and Feng sighed in their hearts, not knowing whether it was helpless or simple emotion.

This little mood was quickly felt by Byron. The transcendent blinked his eyes sensitively, put his body closer, and reached out and poked Kitahara and Feng's faces:

"Keihara?"

"fine."

Kitahara and Feng also came to their senses at this time and smiled at their friends: "Let's find a place to sit first. I also want to write something while I was still in London. The air is getting wetter and wetter, and it will probably rain in a while."

"I will wrap you with fire when it rains."

Byron looked at it for a while, as if he was sure that his friend had not fallen into any heavy emotions, so he showed a bright smile, his tone was lazy and had a sensation:

"It's not hot at all, it's a warm feeling. Do you want to feel it? Kitahara? Don't worry about safety issues, I've done experiments with Shelley."

Kitahara and Feng turned their heads to look at Byron, with helpless eyes:

“I was very good all of a sudden

How did Mr. Chiselle go back then?"

"Later, I was abducted into bed in a daze."

Byron tweaked his short, fiery red hair, and the smile on the corners of his lips looked particularly wanton and ostentatious, revealing his white teeth.

His existence looks incompatible and vivid and special in the dark-toned London buildings and the brilliant lights, like a burning fire, with unscrupulous arrogance, evaporating the wet air.

Kitahara and Feng looked at this friend who gave people a strong feeling. They didn't say anything, but just looked silently with subtle eyes.

"Hey? Haven't been deceived... Well, it's just a joke. Although I like gentleness so much that people think that going to bed is a gentle and unkind type, I won't take advantage of others' danger."

When Byron saw that Kitanohara and Feng had no intention of being deceived, he sighed regretfully: "Although there were indeed newspapers rumored about our scandals back then. "The Sun, do you know what these people look like."

"It's totally understandable."

The British "Sun" is a famous entertainment newspaper. It is famous for "whoever really believes in the content above is a fool" and adheres to the extremely irresponsible entertainment spirit to meet everyone's spiritual needs.

But it has a wide audience and many more.

"After I went to steal the skull and ran away, the Zhongta attendant characterized me as a long-term mission, but those guys started to fabricate how I was going to commit suicide with Shelley."

Byron sighed, his eyes full of speechlessness: "Please, I haven't even drunk wine with Shelley's skull a few times. How could it be a sacrifice for love? But the problem is that it is said that the newspaper in that page cried a lot of girls..."

"Those little girls definitely didn't expect you to steal the skull."

Kitahara and Feng blinked, found a cafe to sit down in the quiet corner, and said with a smile: "By the way, I haven't seen you use that as a wine glass in London."

"What if I was photographed by that idle artificial intelligence and did a skull recovery?"

Byron sat down, his voice lowered:

"Although the masses... hehe, the vast majority of the masses have forgotten who Shelley was, who fought for their rights and freedoms, but so many people who were taken care of by Shelley, as long as they are not brainwashed, I still remember it. Then I will be worried about whether I can leave London."

Kitahara and Feng raised their heads.

Byron's voice sounded a little sarcastic, but not aimed at travelers, but at people throughout London - but it sounded more like a kind of anger that was so disappointed.

But it was precisely because even he himself knew that this was just a powerless revelation that he did not show any disgust towards the surrounding London residents.

"Do you regret it?" Kitahara and Feng asked softly as they looked at Byron, who looked not so happy with his lips.

Even if he already knows the answer the other party will give, it does not prevent him from asking again and reminding his friends.

Byron lowered his eyes.

He knew what Kitanohara and Feng meant:

Shelley died for people and was killed. Even if he opposed the oppressive things, it was the comprehensive monitoring and ideological control policy that Zhongta attendants wanted to enforce.

——Your friend dies for the cause he loves and for the noblest yearning of mankind, but in the end the person he wants to protect will forget it early, but instead, the existence he once opposed is still thinking about Angel who has left the world.

——So, do you regret it?

"Of course, there is no doubt that he does not regret it, and I am not qualified to regret it for Shelley. Even if I do it again, I will do it like Shelley: because human will itself should not be bound by anything."

Byron had almost no hesitation, smiled and even blinked at the traveler lightly: "And we were half-win in the end? Otherwise, you wouldn't see the bustling and lively Oxford Street now... Oh, when you say that, you always feel like this street is like Shelley's little daughter."
To be continued...