Chapter 8: Beauties, Fine Cars, and Stinky London

Indeed not! Zhu Jishi has never studied history seriously, so he does not know that England in 1842 was not a democratic country, but rather a nation under the dictatorship of the bourgeoisie. The poor had no voting rights, although they were petitioning and marching under the instigation of socialists, seeking to fight for the democratic right of one person, one vote

In the words of the upper echelons within the Almach Club, taxpayer money is not meant to support the lazy and societal dregs! Isabelle Deneuve shook her head and said in a low voice: Although the British government receives an annual fiscal revenue of £90 million contributed by taxpayers, it has nothing to do with these poor people outside; why should we serve them?

The response came from Countess Isabelle Deneuve with a long sigh: "They are all children of the poor! Where would they find the money to go to school? When they grow a bit older, they will go to work in factories as child laborers. If they are slightly more attractive, some girls will end up in the brothels. If nothing unexpected happens, they will all become the future dregs of society. A few lucky ones might perhaps find a shortcut to the upper class..."

"No, no problem... By the way, how is Mr. Churchill? Why haven't I seen Dr. Blonsky?" Zhu Jishi smiled awkwardly and changed the subject

Thank you, Countess. Zhu Jishi put away the pounds and smiled gratefully at the Countess.

There were many carriages bustling along the main street, so the speed of the vehicles was not fast, moving slowly forward. Zhu Jishi continued to observe London in 1842, a city that was truly worlds apart from his impressions of London.

However, upon hearing the Countess's remarks, Zhu Jishi did not dare to continue inquiring about the reactionary nature of democratic constitutionalism... It cannot be labeled as reactionary, as both Marx and Engels currently support the Charter movement advocating for universal suffrage for the working people of Britain. Therefore, in 1842, democratic constitutionalism undoubtedly represented the universal values of the tide of social development; otherwise, would Marx and Engels not be mistaken...! It is only with the progress of time that, by the 21st century, democratic constitutionalism would evolve into a reactionary political system that disrupts social order...! Thus, in 1842, democratic constitutionalism certainly represented the universal values of the tide of social development; otherwise, would Marx and Engels not be mistaken...! It is only with the progress of time that, by the 21st century, democratic constitutionalism would evolve into a reactionary political system that disrupts social order...

"This... the Russian government is relatively poor." Zhu Jishi smiled awkwardly, thinking to himself: "Isn't the Romanov dynasty reactionary? They certainly do not care about the serfs, but how can this British Empire, which claims to be a democracy with constitutional governance, not care about the lives and deaths of the working people?"

Robert has recovered quite well. Early this morning, Blenheim Palace sent a carriage to take him away, accompanied by Dr. Blonschtein. The Countess took out a £20 note and handed it to Zhu Jishi, saying with a smile, "Robert paid £100 for the consultation, Dr. Blonschtein took £50, and the rest is yours"

The thought that the next time he might see his relatives could very well be decades later made Zhu Jishi's tears fall like pearls that had come undone, crying for a whole half of the night, only managing to stop when dawn broke the next day, and with red eyes, he went downstairs to the restaurant to have a bit of breakfast

The stench of excrement wafted through the carriage window, prompting Zhu Jishi to lift the curtain and glance outside. The streets were filled with vendors peddling their wares, poorly dressed pedestrians, and ragged beggars.

The sounds of vendors calling out and haggling echoed in his ears, creating a cacophony. Looking up into the distance, the sky over London, the capital of the British Empire in 1842, appeared gray, devoid of any trace of blue skies or white clouds, as if shrouded in an endless haze, with countless chimneys faintly visible, belching smoke.

Is the government not concerned? Shouldn't the government help them?

The carriage meandered along, soon reaching Tower Bridge in London. However, it was not the later version with its two granite square towers, but rather an old wooden bridge that appeared quite dilapidated. Tower Bridge was equally crowded, with horses and book carts moving slowly, almost slower than walking. This, however, allowed Zhu Jishi to appreciate the scenery of the Thames River. A black river, emitting a pungent odor, was hardly a match for beautiful scenery. The banks of the Thames were lined with chimneys, and it was impossible to know how many factories were continuously discharging waste into the river day and night. The river was filled with masts and sails, with countless wooden sailing ships crowded in the not-so-open waters of the Thames. However, Zhu Jishi knew nothing about the history of ships and could not distinguish the types of these sailing vessels; he was merely there to enjoy the spectacle.

What do you mean? This time it was Isabelle Deneuve who was taken aback, "How could the poor have the right to vote? Only citizens who pay taxes above a certain threshold are entitled to vote, and there are only a little over 200,000 such people in the UK, Jason... you can't possibly lack even this most basic common knowledge, can you?"

... ...

Zhu Jishi was taken aback and asked, "Does the ruling party not fear that the poor will vote for the opposition party in the next election?"

He noticed that there were many children wandering the streets, and some of the vendors setting up stalls were not adults. He frowned and asked the countess sitting next to him, "Have those children already finished school?"

"Jason, are you alright?" The Countess, dressed in a new royal blue gown, looked at Zhu Jishi, whose eyes were red, and asked gently

Last night, the Countess had already advanced £30 to Zhu Jishi through the library, and with this additional £20, the account will be settled in full

After passing the Tower Bridge in London and reaching the south bank of the Thames, I crossed a railway line. The flow of traffic and pedestrians seemed to diminish significantly, and the streets appeared much wider and cleaner. There were no street vendors, and the houses on both sides of the road were considerably more refined. The air was also not very foul. This area seems to be a gathering place for the middle class and bourgeoisie of London.

"Call me Isabel." The Countess seems to have a favorable impression of Zhu Jishi. However, whether it is a blessing or a curse for Zhu Jishi to attract the attention of a woman who could incite a duel between Qiu Panzai and Will Haming is truly uncertain

Isabelle Deneuve furrowed her brows slightly as she looked at Zhu Jishi, as if assessing an extraterrestrial. "Does your Russian Tsar's government care about the lives of serfs?"

However, keeping beautiful women at a distance of a thousand miles is not Zhu Jishi's usual style. After finishing this breakfast, he felt that his relationship with the Countess had become much closer, appearing somewhat more cordial.

Zhu Jishi did not feel any fatigue until late into the night. Upon returning to his room, he lay on the bed fully clothed for a while, naturally unable to fall asleep, contemplating his future and feeling a sense of uncertainty about the road ahead. He then took out his iPhone 5, which contained photos of Ye Yiren and his family back home. Zhu Jishi opened the phone and looked at these photos repeatedly until the screen displayed a low battery warning, at which point he reluctantly turned it off. He did not possess a solar charging panel, a rare item; however, there was a charger for the iPhone 5 in Ye Yiren's backpack. Yet, generators had not yet been invented in this era.

On both sides of the street, vegetables, meats, fruits, old clothes, stinky boots, and all sorts of peculiar items are scattered everywhere. Immediately before Zhu Jishi's eyes is a scene of garbage, excrement, and foul ditches flowing with brown liquid.

In summary, Zhu Jishi no longer dared to discuss the issues of democratic constitutionalism with the countess, but instead occasionally lifted the car curtains to look around, continuing to observe the capital of the sunless empire, which resembled a garbage bin.

After breakfast, the Countess's butler, a plump old man named Ababernel, had already prepared the carriage. In contrast to the somewhat disheveled Blonstein, this plump old man appeared very tidy, with his clothes spotless and his hair and beard neatly trimmed. The coachman was also served by Ababernel. The Countess's carriage, though somewhat old-fashioned, was quite comfortable, with the interior meticulously cleaned and even scented with perfume. The Countess accompanied Zhu Jishi to London as promised, and the two sat facing each other in the small carriage, chatting and laughing along the way. With a beautiful companion, Zhu Jishi seemed to temporarily forget his homesickness, appearing quite content.