Anyway, she finally managed to take a hot bath.
The bathroom in the tavern was larger than she had imagined. Perfume had been sprinkled in the bathtub, giving off a strong lavender fragrance.
There were various bath products placed beside it - soap, hair oil, sponge, towel, washcloth, comb, cold cream and cologne.
Leona used the sponge to apply the soap and scrubbed for over an hour before coming out.
This was the first time since she traveled through time that she felt her pores were unclogged and her whole body seemed to have lightened by three pounds.
As she wiped her wet hair with a towel, she pondered how to get Eric to take a bath too. But when she returned to the room, she found he had disappeared.
She was already used to his unpredictable appearances and disappearances, so she didn't think much about it. She just hoped he wouldn't drag someone back in the middle of the night.
Speaking of which, she finally saw the appearance of this body.
It looked very similar to her modern self, and could even be said to be exactly the same - her father was French, and she inherited his high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, fair skin, and a few inconspicuous light brown freckles on her nose.
The only difference was that her modern self had black hair, while this body had red hair.
To be precise, it was ginger-colored.
Only under certain lights would it show a flashy red color.
Leona roughly knew why this body needed to dress as a boy.
Red-haired people, especially red-haired women, had always been discriminated against.
In Chekhov's novels, it was even clearly written that "red-haired women are cunning, hypocritical, malicious and insidious".
Although this statement was mostly ironic, it did prove that there were many prejudices against red-haired women at that time.
Leona always wondered why the original owner's mother dressed her as a boy.
But she was willing to believe that it was a form of protection, not a preference for boys over girls.
The dresses she bought before were spread on the bed.
Leona casually picked up a printed dress and put it on.
Her hair was short, not reaching her ears, but she didn't look out of place after putting on the dress. Instead, she exuded a bit of neat wildness.
She put on a coarse felt bonnet and tied the ribbon under her chin. Leona felt that even if she walked out now, no one would discover that she was the "Mr. Clermont" living here.
In this era, it wasn't uncommon for women to publicly wear men's clothes, but they were all artists performing in theaters or circuses and were not presentable.
True ladies wouldn't wear trousers.
For them, trousers only existed under their skirts and were an absolute privacy and taboo.
Wearing trousers was like publicly exposing one's thighs. Only can-can dancers would show their petticoats.
Audiences loved to watch the performances of men in women's clothes because of this.
The women on stage thought they were neatly dressed and became gentlemanly feminized versions of themselves.
In fact, in the eyes of the audience below the stage, they were already naked.
It was a pity Eric wasn't here. Otherwise, she really wanted to test his attitude towards women's clothing.
Before this, he only knew she was a girl and hadn't seen her in women's clothes.
Maybe the kiss had little effect on him because she didn't change into women's clothes?
Leona hated herself for deleting the book "The Phantom of the Opera" after reading the novel instead of caching it.
Otherwise, at this moment, she could take a notebook and sort out the details of the original work while reading it. It would be best to write a guidebook casually, in case she got some details wrong one day and unfortunately died at Eric's hands.
No.
Who said you couldn't write a guidebook without the original work?
Leona didn't know how long she would stay here. Now, she still remembered the details of the original work, but what about a year, two years, five years... ten years later?
Who knew if she could still remember then?
Thinking of this, she immediately opened the drawer of the writing desk in the guest room, flipped to a blank notebook and started writing.
She wasn't worried that Eric could understand - no matter how smart he was and how many languages he knew, it was impossible for him to understand simplified Chinese characters.
The origin of simplified Chinese characters was complex. Although there were already rudiments now, compared with modern simplified Chinese characters, they still lacked hundreds of years of evolution and innovation.
Unless he found another Chinese person to interpret it for him word by word, the probability of him understanding by himself was zero.
Leona first wrote down the plot summary of the original work, then marked the differences between the original work, the musical and the horror movie, and finally admonished herself:
If he wants to kill you, the best way to resolve the crisis is to kiss, hug, and any physical contact.
After thinking for a moment, she continued writing:
It's October in 1888. So far, you haven't seen what he looks like. But no matter what he looks like, don't be afraid of his appearance, nor show shocked or disgusted expressions, otherwise something very terrifying will happen. Try to sympathize with his experiences as much as possible.
But he is very dangerous and seldom talks. You need to learn to probe indirectly and sympathize more with people who have similar experiences to him.
This is neither the original version nor the musical version.
His danger and alertness are immeasurable. He may do very extreme things. Even though you are now cautious, cautious and cautious again, you have almost died in his hands several times.
...
After finishing writing, Leona read it through from the beginning. After making sure there was nothing to add, she stuffed it into her backpack.
The clock on the wall of the guest room showed that it was already nine o'clock in the evening, but Eric still hadn't come back.
Her heart skipped a beat heavily.
He won't never come back, will he?
Until now, she still hadn't figured out what had happened.
He pressed her down to the ground without any warning, grabbed her neck, and his mask's eyeholes gradually approached her. His gaze was cold, as if he was going to torture her.
After she kissed his neck, he disappeared without any warning again.
His every move was completely beyond the logic of a normal person.
Leona increasingly felt that writing down ways to deal with him was a very correct choice.
Otherwise, as time passed, she might really forget how to deal with him.
Leona put the first aid kit on the pillow. She was prepared for Eric to drag someone back in the middle of the night, but unexpectedly, he still didn't come back after a whole night.
She didn't know whether this was good or bad.
Was her nightmare over?
Finally, she didn't have to struggle for survival every day.
When he was around, her spirit was always in a highly tense state, always afraid that he would suddenly become violent.
Now that he had left,
Her heart actually rose to her throat.
Maybe because this was Eric's world.
He was an undisputed predator here, surrounded by vulnerable, ignorant and unalert herbivores.
For herbivores, losing sight of the predator was not a good thing.
Just like this, another two days passed and Eric still didn't appear.
Leona could only comfort herself that at least now, she didn't have to worry about being awakened by footsteps in the middle of the night.
Nor did she have to worry about whether he would grab her neck and threaten her with a dagger.
She was completely safe.
Temporarily, completely safe.
During these three days, she wasn't idle. She found out where the Tricky Banquet was being held.
It was in this hotel.
It was called a banquet, but it was more like a paranormal exhibition.
Tricky rented the fifth floor of the hotel to display his paranormal exhibits - mediums, freaks, and various strange specimens and photos.
Just like the things she saw in the manager's wooden box.
Only, Tricky's scale was larger and the collection was more abundant.
Leona urgently needed new things to distract herself. After thinking it over, she decided to go and see this exhibition.
Anyway, it was just upstairs in the hotel.
She didn't wear men's clothes because she was afraid Tricky would recognize her and then pester her asking about Eric's whereabouts.
She put on a dress, wore a bonnet and a black veil.
Thank goodness, the wig industry was very mature now. Even if the wind blew off her hat, it wouldn't expose her scruffy short hair.
The exhibition started at three o'clock in the afternoon.
Before 2:30, Tricky began to greet the guests at the door.
He was dressed in a suit and tie, with a big smile: "Guests coming to see the exhibition, please come in... The exhibition has started early. Here is a brochure. The exhibition is on the fifth floor. The dinner party will be held in the rooftop garden at 5:30..."
Leona took a brochure and flipped it open in a corner:
At the " Tricky Tre's Spectacular Exhibition", you will see:
Famous Mediums - with the powerful ability to communicate with spirits;
Freaks - presenting you with the most heart-stirring tragic fates;
Strange Specimens - rare and exotic creatures from around the world;
Exorcism Props - divination tools made according to ancient scriptures, suitable for various purification rituals;
Paranormal Photos - real captured ghost images, which may cause harm to your body and mind. Please watch under the accompaniment of staff...
If you need to purchase any of the above items, please contact the relevant staff.
In addition, for VIPs with special needs, we also provide services such as spiritual communication, exorcism and ghost manifestation. For details, please contact Mr. Tricky · Tréjean.
...
Before traveling through time, Leona never believed in ghosts in this world.
But after witnessing Eric's extraordinary performance with her own eyes, she suddenly wasn't sure if there really were ghosts in this world.
Looking at the position of the medium in the brochure, a thought suddenly popped into her mind - would this medium know how she could get back?
Leona went to the location marked on the brochure.
To her surprise, the "famous medium" was actually a man.
He was young and handsome, wearing a black suit, with his hands clasped on his knees. When he saw her coming, he stood up with a smile.
"Miss," he said with a smile, "Don't speak first... Let me guess. You've been particularly troubled recently, right?"
Leona was somewhat disappointed.
What she wanted to hear wasn't this kind of medium's cliché.
"Do you say this to everyone?"
"Of course not." He shook his head with a smile. "I just heard the voice of your spirit. It told me that you've been particularly frustrated lately. Shh..."
He looked at her and suddenly made a finger-to-lip gesture. "Don't speak. Let me guess. You don't belong here, right?"
Leona's heart tightened. She tried hard to act as if nothing had happened: "Why do you say that?"
"Your spirit told me." He said, "Let's walk and talk. Forgot to introduce myself. My name is Lawrence Boyd."
"Mr. Boyd." Leona nodded at him.
"Spirits are very sensitive," Boyd said. "Only gentle and careful people can communicate with them. That's why there are more women in this profession, but there are also men, and I'm an example."
His tone was indeed very gentle: "They're not as fierce as people imagine. On the contrary, they're fragile and soft, just like butter."
Leona pretended to be enlightened.
Boyd took her to see the paranormal photos he took, all of which were seemingly ordinary but creepy black-and-white photos.
For example, a woman was sitting in a photo studio, with a blurry, sticky white ghost closely entangling her neck behind her.
Perhaps to protect the woman's privacy, the woman's face was painted black with a pen.
"This is one of my female clients," Boyd said. "That ghost was her dead lover, who always lingered and couldn't forget her. He always came to find her. But when a ghost comes into contact with a normal person, it will bring immeasurable misfortune to the normal person."
His gaze shifted downward, staring straight at her neck:
"Just like you. Ghosts will leave extremely rough marks on those people. You must have been driven to desperation to come to me, right?"
Oh no!
Leona was annoyed. She forgot to tie a silk scarf around her neck.
Boyd said as he reached out his hand, seemingly about to touch her neck - when he was only one centimeter away from her skin, he suddenly withdrew his hand.
"Sorry," he said. "I smell the presence of a ghost on you. Your spirit is very scared and even tried to seek refuge with me. This is very rare. Unless you're extremely scared, a spirit would never ask an outsider for help."
"...Hmm," she tried to muddle through. "What I care about isn't this. How should I put it? I know someone who comes from a very faraway place. He may need some special rituals to go back. Do you know anyone who has studied this area?"
Boyd shook his head.
"But I can keep an eye out for you." He handed her a business card with both hands and looked at her deeply. "Besides, if you need anything, please feel free to contact me. I live here."
Maybe it was psychological.
When Boyd was speaking, she suddenly felt goosebumps all over her body and had a shivering feeling of being watched by something.
Someone was watching her.
Or rather, it wasn't a person.
The gaze was dangerous, sharp, and exuded an ominous chill, just like the ghosts mentioned by Boyd.
Leona was almost chilled to the bone.
It should be... a sequelae left by Eric.
It will get better in a few days, she thought.