Perhaps, it was doomed from that night in Paris four hundred and thirty-one years ago.This story begins on April Fool's Day in 2005 AD. April 1st, Friday, a cold and wet spring in Shanghai. Until 3:33 in the afternoon, when I stepped into the Yunjianwang company on the 13th floor of a building on Nanjing West Road and sat in the guest chat room, my drowsy mind seemed to be stimulated by something, and suddenly Realize what day it is. I quickly took out my phone to check the time, yes, today is April 1st, and it's still Friday. I looked suspiciously at the editors of Yunjian.com, and saw that they were whispering, probably because they didn't expect me to be so young.

An editor MM looked back at me, smiled and said, "Shall we start?" "Why today?" "Today? Are you talking about April Fool's Day? Hehe, because it's innocent to joke around on April Fool's Day, no one will blame you even if you exaggerate later." After hearing her explanation, I can only bow down—fortunately, they invited me as an honest person today, if they meet my friends Mr. L, little D, and old B, wouldn’t it be blown to pieces? The roof of a forty-story building? In fact, I don't care too much about foreign festivals like April Fool's Day and Valentine's Day, but I'm just worried that what I say as a guest later will be taken as an April Fool's joke by netizens.

If you have read the two books, you will know why I am so worried, because these two books are selling well, which has attracted many readers and netizens to speculate whether the stories told in the books are true?Am I myself one of the heroes in the book?Is one of the heroines in the book still wandering the subway? Because of so many speculations and doubts, this well-known portal website in China, Yunjian.com, specially invited me as a guest to chat with netizens from all over the country.Although I have also participated in N times of book signings, radio interviews and other activities, I am still a little nervous when facing the editors and MMs of Yunjian.com who are rumored to be full of beauties.

At 3:45 p.m., the guest chat room of Yunjian.com officially opened. The beautiful host first introduced me to netizens, and then asked more than a dozen innocuous questions.Although today is a special day, my answer is still cautious, so as not to let people misunderstand what I mean. But the questions from netizens behind were all kinds of strange. A netizen named MARZOLINI asked: "I have read yours, and I want to ask if you know what is the 20th floor of hell?" There is also a netizen whose name is particularly scary, Sadako Yamamura, "she" said: "I finished watching yours at the bottom of the well. Half of my body is stuck outside the TV screen and I can't move. By the way, I want to ask you a question—have you and Xiaozhi met again?"

The IDs of these netizens seem to have all been drilled out of my books, and those strange questions made me burnt out. It turns out that this is the benefit of April Fool's Day, which can make guests make fools of themselves in the chat room. When I spent two hours like suffering, the scheduled time was about to expire, and I was about to get out of the sea of ​​suffering early, a netizen named De La Mole suddenly appeared. De la Moore? This strange name appeared on the screen like a ghost, and I held my breath for several seconds, as if a needle had been stuck in my brain.So I closed my eyes and racked my brains to think about this name. It seemed that I had known this person a long time ago.

MM, the editor of Yunjian.com, patted me lightly: "Are you okay?" I shivered, opened my eyes, and saw that there was already a line of text on the screen—— Netizen De La Mole: "I have read your novel, the heroine takes away the head of her beheaded lover. Why do you write like this? Is it because of Stendhal?" Looking at this text on the screen, the needle in my brain seemed to be pierced deeper, making me forget all the problems just now, and there seemed to be only a crescent moon in front of me... It was an era I don't know how many years ago, a white shadow flashed out from the red wall and green tiles, her footsteps seemed to be made of silk, so soft that there was no sound, her seductive body was wrapped in plain clothes, and she came to the city like a ghost. under the door.She held her lover's head in her arms, and the blood stains on the mourning gown she wore were like plum blossoms blooming in the dark.The head moved over her fair neck, rouge-like red lips, and pool-like eyes.She boldly looked at the head until her fiery red lips pressed against her lover's dead lips.

Strangely, on the afternoon of April Fool's Day on April 1, 2005, in the guest chat room of Yunjian.com, I was suddenly immersed in a novel I wrote five years ago, so that I could hardly extricate myself, and forgot the people around me. The existence of a website editor MM. When I emerged from the abyss of the novel to take a deep breath, I saw the strange expressions of the MMs around me. They probably thought I was nervous.I smiled bitterly in embarrassment: "Excuse me, maybe I ran into a friend from the past. Please answer him: You guessed right, do you know Margaret?" The editor MM paused for a moment, then looked up and asked me: "Is this the only thing?"

"Yes, just answer him like that." After a few minutes, the guest chat finally came to an end.Originally, I didn't want to stay for dinner, but looking at the beautiful women around me, no one could resist, so I could only follow them to the second floor of the building and have a meal at a Hangzhou restaurant. Facing a table of MMs, it is reasonable to say that I should be full of energy, but I am absent-minded. They have said a few big jokes, but I still don't understand them, which makes them all very embarrassed. In fact, I was still thinking about the question raised by the netizen named De La Mole in the chat room just now—why did the heroine take the head of her beheaded lover?

I didn't touch a drop of wine during the dinner, and I didn't listen to all the jokes the girls said. Only this strange question kept haunting me, just like the familiar name De La Mole. No, I can't stay any longer, there always seems to be a voice in my ear, urging me to leave here. At 8 o'clock in the evening, I bid farewell to them in a hurry and walked out of the gate of this forty-story office building. April Fool's night. Nanjing West Road is the most bourgeois place in Shanghai. Even the plane trees on both sides are covered with lights, illuminating the fashionable men and women cuddling together.

In fact, we celebrate April Fools' Day every day. Suddenly, there was a strange feeling beside him, like a gust of cold wind blowing on his face.Before I turned around, a young man's voice sounded next to my ear: "Excuse me, are you the author?" I hurriedly took a step back and saw the man clearly in front of the advertising light box at the entrance of the office building. This night on the street matches well. His movements were very strange, as he approached me, he kept looking around, as if someone was following him. My vigilance was also raised, and I turned sideways and said, "Yes, it's me, how did you know?"

"I saw your picture in a book." Under the light of the advertising light box, the other party's face gradually became clear.He looked more like a college student. Although his eyes were not very big, they were black and bright, his face was pale and thin, and his nose and lips were pretty. At first glance, he looked a bit like Jay Chou. "Then how did you know I'd be here?" "Actually, I've been waiting for you here for more than two hours." His voice was soft and deep, as if he was swallowed by the wind as soon as he said it. He carefully looked around and hid to the side of the advertising light box Said, "I know that this afternoon, you will be a guest in the guest chat room of Yunjian.com, so I am here specially waiting for you." No wonder when I was eating just now, my heart was always up and down - I used to hear old people say that when someone is waiting for you, you will feel a certain feeling in your heart. But I still shook my head: "You said you waited for me downstairs for two hours?" "Yes, in the afternoon I was surfing the Internet in the Internet cafe across the road, and I also entered the guest chat room of Yunjian.com. After your guest chat is over, I will immediately come out of the Internet cafe and go downstairs to wait for you. " "But what if I go out through the other door of the building?" He was silent for a moment, with a strange expression on the corner of his mouth: "No, you can't go out through the back door, I know you will definitely come out through this door—my hunch is not wrong." The tone of the last sentence was a bit wizardly, which was very out of proportion to his age.Suddenly, I realized that I might be interested in this person, which made me more vigilant and uneasy, and quickly said coldly: "Enough! Who are you? Why are you looking for me?" "My name is Lin Hai, the Lin of the forest, the sea of ​​the ocean." He approached me, his pale face made me take half a step back, and he continued, "I'm sorry, I have something important to tell you, please You must listen to me." Why make it so mysterious?We writers are no different from ordinary people, so why do people always mystify us? He looked around for a while, as if there were a pair of eyes staring at him anytime and anywhere, which made me look around cautiously, like a CIA agent passing information. He came close to my ear and said in a trembling voice: "Do you believe in ghosts in the world?" I was immediately stunned by this sentence.On the bustling Nanjing West Road, at the gate of a 40-story high-end office building, this boy who appeared like a ghost suddenly asked me the oldest and most terrifying question in the world. Before I could react, his second whisper came again: "I've been haunted by a ghost, and it's with you." Hearing the special tone of this sentence, and looking at his straight eyes, no matter who is on a normal person, he will probably be terrified.Naturally, I was no exception, I just felt a sway in my heart, and then a cool night wind swept over my body, as if the ghost "passed" through my body. I immediately fought a cold war, and then looked around, there was still a lot of people, where were there any ghosts under the bright lights?On the contrary, this boy named Lin Hai looks more like a ghost. Suddenly, I thought that today is a special day, and the sudden appearance of this boy in front of me, could it be an April Fool's joke? Just as I was showing displeasure, his expression softened and he said apologetically, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so blunt. Can we find a place to talk?" But I didn't answer him right away, and stood there hesitantly. Lin Hai looked into my eyes, and after a moment of silence, he said, "When you were chatting in the guest room this afternoon, I asked you a question - why did the heroine in the movie take the head of her beheaded lover?" He finally got the words out, and my eyes widened instantly, and a name blurted out: "De La Mole! You're that De La Mole Internet friend, right?" Lin Hai showed a strange smile, nodded and said: "Yes, I used the name 'De La Mole' to ask you a question, and your answer did not disappoint me, so I must wait for you here. " I was a little inexplicably excited. At this moment, this man named de La Mole was standing in front of me, and the problem that had been entangled with me for more than two hours was about to be solved. I immediately agreed to his request and went to the small cafe across the road together. Strangely, on the night of April Fool's Day, the business of the cafe is particularly light, probably people don't want to talk about any serious business tonight.Lin Hai purposely found an inconspicuous corner and sat down facing me. The lights here are bright enough, although Lin Hai's face is still pale, his hair is messed up, and he looks haggard.But he is indeed a very handsome boy, especially those Jay-like eyes, which must be very attractive to girls. Lin Hai still looked out of his mind, peeping behind me from time to time, his eyes made hair stand on end, as if there was really a female ghost standing behind me. I finally interrupted his looking around: "I'm sorry, you waited for me for more than two hours, didn't you just ask me a question?" "Of course not, that's just a beginning, a very small beginning." He specifically emphasized the "beginning" again, and still looked behind me. After making sure that there was no one or ghost behind me, he carefully put the schoolbag on the table. Lin Hai slowly opened the zipper of the schoolbag, and his hand trembled for a long time, almost making me think he was electrocuted. Finally, he retracted his hand into his schoolbag, and pulled out a tin box as if by magic. This new discovery immediately lifted my spirits.The tin box was about twenty centimeters long and ten centimeters wide, equivalent to the thickness of a book. The tin box looks very old, but there is no rust on it, and it seems to be well preserved. Lin Hai's hands were still shaking, he took a deep breath, and then carefully opened the tin box. The moment he opened the lid, I suddenly and inexplicably thought of the Egyptian desert, the scene when the archaeologists opened the pharaoh's coffin. Strange, how could you think of this? Such a small tin box, of course there will be no pharaohs inside.What kind of mystery would that be? A parchment. Yes, I've seen the contents of the box, a scroll of parchment curled up in a tin box like a dried-up baby corpse. I can’t be mistaken, I once saw ancient Middle Eastern and European parchments in a museum, basically they all looked like this, withered, yellow and wrinkled, just like the face of a hundred-year-old woman. The sheepskin books were produced in the 8th century BC, and the oldest known sheepskin books are the "Persian Ancient Books" from the 6th century BC to the 5th century BC.The earliest form of parchment was a scroll, and it was changed to a book in the 4th century AD, which is more durable and easier to preserve than papyrus scrolls.Parchment books in Europe remained the standard form of manuscript until the 15th century when they were replaced by printed books made of paper. However, not all medieval parchment books are books, and ancient parchment scrolls have been used all the time. The parchment book in front of me seems to be a work of the Middle Ages. I didn’t dare to take a big breath anymore. I held my breath and looked at the parchment in the iron box. In this cafe on West Nanjing Road, I felt as if I had traveled through a tunnel of time and space and arrived at a certain castle in the era of Charlemagne. Looking up at Lin Hai again, his eyes radiated a strange look, but then he carefully glanced behind me. It seems that this scroll of parchment is very precious and must not be seen by a third person. Lin Hai slowly stretched out his hand, took the parchment out of the tin box, and unfolded it carefully, just like the hand scrolls in ancient China. It seems that the East and the West coincide on this point. At the beginning of the scroll, there is a strange pattern like a curtain, which is a common decoration in ancient Europe.I didn’t find the title, it’s just a line of text, densely packed with handwritten Latin letters, my foreign language level is already terrible, plus it’s handwritten by ancient people, to me it’s tantamount to an alien’s heavenly book up. As the ancient parchment scroll unfolded little by little, a special musty smell emanated, which reminded me of a certain unlucky sheep that was slaughtered eight hundred years ago. Finally, the entire parchment scroll appeared in front of my eyes. The long scroll was densely covered with European characters, probably with hundreds of lines, and at least thousands of words in Chinese. I shook my head as if facing a code, and said softly, "What's written on it?" Lin Hai immediately made a silent gesture, then covered his mouth with his hand and said, "Be careful, don't splash your saliva on the parchment." "I'm sorry." I can only cover my mouth with my hands, it's a bit ridiculous to speak like this, "What kind of text is this?" "It's Old French." Lin Hai replied softly, frowning and said, "France in the Middle Ages was feudal and divided, and there were many dialects. In the 13th century, the Capetian Dynasty unified the whole of France, and the dialect of the Paris area gradually became the common language of the French nation. It's Old French, which appeared in official documents around the beginning of the 18th century." "You mean to say—this parchment comes from France in the thirteenth century?" "Analyzed from the text, I think it is like this." But I wondered again: "But how do you know?" "Because I'm studying French now." Lin Hai lowered his head again, looking a little shy, "I'm already in my third year of university this year, and I just learned ancient French last semester." "Then do you know what this parchment says?" Lin Hai shook his head helplessly: "I'm just a third-year French student, not an expert in history and linguistics. These 18th-century ancient French are very different from modern French. Fonts, if you are not a professional researcher, even authentic French people can’t understand it.” "Well, you're right. Just like ancient Chinese bamboo slips or hand scrolls, it's hard for us people to understand today." I looked carefully at the decorations on the parchment, and it seemed that there was a faint evil spirit. Wasn't the European Middle Ages the age of magic and witchcraft? Since it is a parchment book from the 13th century, it is naturally a very precious treasure. How did Lin Hai, a college student, get it?I immediately expressed my doubts: "How did the parchment book get into your hands?" Lin Hai was silent for a moment, then rolled up the parchment, and said slowly: "I came to you today for this matter, but... I'm worried that you won't believe it." "What do you believe?" I suddenly looked back and looked around, pretending to be mysterious and said, "You want to tell me: you are haunted by a ghost, and it is beside us?" "No, this is only a small part." Lin Hai became a little nervous, lowered his head and said awkwardly, "This incident is really unbelievable, it happened within the last few days, if it was not for personal experience, I don't even believe it myself." "Tell me about it. Do you know how many incredible things I have experienced?" I almost wanted to show off my experience of those mysterious events again. He nodded hastily and said, "I know, I have read almost all of your books, but what happened to me now, even the best novelist may not be able to imagine it." For some unknown reason, the light in the cafe suddenly dimmed, and Lin Hai's face was blocked by a shadow, like a narrator behind a stage curtain, only hearing his special voice, narrating on the night of April Fool's Day Come-- Lin Hai started talking about it on March 29, 2005, three days before April Fool's Day. It was a sunny day, and the warm sunlight shone on the university campus, and the willows outside the classroom also pulled out filaments, making people temporarily forget many sad memories—such as the two incidents that happened in this university last year. This mysterious incident made many college students dare not go to the toilet alone at night. Fortunately, the ins and outs of these two incidents have been recorded in two books.Lin Hai also learned the story of the beautiful senior named Chun Yu through these two books. In the past, he often encountered Chun Yu in the student cafeteria. However, there will be no more Spring Rain in this story. On March 29, at two o'clock in the afternoon, the spring was bright outside the window, but the spring was exhausted inside the window.It is said that this is the time when people want to sleep the most. In the back seats of the big classroom, there are many bunkers made of books. Everyone in the back dreams that they are in Paris and on the Eiffel Tower. For students of the French department, it is understandable to have such a dream, because this class is about French literature, and the lecturer is an authentic French teacher, Mr. Wenger. Mr. Wenger has beautiful long chestnut hair, a straight nose bridge and gray eyes. He has the demeanor of a European aristocrat. More importantly, he is a French man, which often makes many little girls secretly like him.Compared with other foreign teachers, Wenger can make students feel closer, because he can speak some simple Chinese, and he has no airs of foreigners.He stood gracefully on the podium and wrote a name on the blackboard—— Alexandre Dumaspere Lin Hai, who was sitting in the big classroom, of course knew this name, because this person is so famous, his name translated into Chinese is Alexandre Dumas. Mr. Wenger’s French literature class today is about the historical novels of Alexandre Dumas, and now he is talking about Alexandre Dumas’s trilogy, which is set in the era of the religious wars at the end of the 16th century in France——"Queen Margot", "" Forty-five Guards". Lin Hai has always liked Teacher Wenger's class, especially when talking about French literature in the 19th century, he always felt that he would become the protagonist in the novel. When the class was coming to an end, Mr. Wenger said in pleasant standard French: "Recently, the Western Art Museum in this city is holding an exhibition of treasures from the Saint-Louis Museum in France. I just have an extra ticket in hand. I really want to One of you goes to the exhibition and there is only one extra ticket. So, I want to give this ticket as a reward to whoever has the best French literature. " As soon as he finished speaking, everyone in the classroom lifted their spirits, and even the few dreamers behind rushed back from Paris.Teacher Wenger continued: "I know you all have learned well, but there is always one who is the best. Now I want to ask a question. Whoever can answer it first will get this ticket. Okay, please listen Clear my question: at the end of Stendhal's, where is Julien buried after death?" This question stumped the students immediately. Most students in the French department have read it, but because the book is so thick, most people often just read the beginning and leave it behind. The only exception is Lin Hai, who is his favorite novel. Stendhal is the author he admires the most. He has read the bilingual Chinese and French version N times, and it is almost ruined. So, just as everyone was looking at each other, Lin Hai stood up and blurted out in French: "After Julien was beheaded and executed, Miss Mathilde, who loved him deeply, took his head and came to the place designated by Julien before his death." In the cave of Mount La. After the funeral ceremony of the priests, Mathilde buried her lover's head with her own hands." Teacher Wenger was very satisfied with Lin Hai's answer. He nodded with a smile, then walked to Lin Hai's seat and handed the ticket to Lin Hai himself. The ticket said "Exhibition of Treasures of the Museum of Saint-Louis, France", and the time was exactly tomorrow.Lin Hai only felt that he was so lucky, as if it was a gift from God. He didn't know what to say to thank him. He just remembered that Teacher Wenger patted him on the shoulder, and then announced that get out of class was over. The next day, March 30, 2005. Waking up in the morning, Lin Hai's right eyelid twitched, which reminded him of the old people's advice, maybe something will happen today. It happened that there was no class, so Lin Hai didn't go out until 1:00 p.m., and went straight to the Western Art Museum of this city. The Western Art Museum was newly built three years ago. At the beginning, it only exhibited modern art works. However, in the past year, it has held many exhibitions of Western classical art. I did not expect to invite the Saint-Louis Museum this time. A treasure show. Perhaps because of his grandfather, Lin Hai liked drawing since he was a child, but his father strongly opposed him learning to draw.Although he studied French later, Lin Hai was admitted to this long-awaited university, because his grandfather was a teacher of the art department of this university before he retired. This is the first time I have been to the Western Art Museum, and the whole house has a post-modern style.Maybe it's because the elegant art music is expensive, and a ticket costs 200 yuan, so even if it is the famous French treasure exhibition, the Western Art Museum is still deserted. When Lin Hai walked into the gate of the art gallery, a group of people happened to squeeze out. He accidentally collided with them and almost fell to the ground.Lin Hai moved his body a bit, but luckily nothing happened, he just felt a little dizzy. Near the entrance of the art gallery, there are some works of contemporary Chinese painters on display. Recently, the return of classicism has become popular. Most of what Lin Hai saw were oil paintings of figures.Going further inside, you will see the sign on the wall - "Exhibition of Treasures from the Museum of Saint-Louis, France". As soon as he walked into the treasure exhibition area, Lin Hai seemed to smell a special smell, maybe every place where antiques are displayed will have this smell.His head is still a little dizzy, it feels like playing online games for hours on end. He rubbed his eyes hard, only to see that the paintings on the wall were all in the style of Europe before the 17th century.A railing is pulled under the face frame to prevent visitors from touching the precious canvas.Lin Hai looked at the description below, and it turned out that they were all original works from three or four hundred years ago. The painters were not well-known, they were all court painters, and almost every painting was related to the French Bourbon royal family. Perhaps because of the high ticket price, not many people came to see the exhibition. Under the soft light of the art gallery, Lin Hai suddenly felt like he was alone in the world.It was the first time for him to have "intimate contact" with so many famous European paintings, and it seemed that he could really feel the existence of the souls of the painters. But the number of famous paintings in this exhibition is not many, only about 20 pieces.In the innermost part of the exhibition hall of the art museum, there is also a special treasure exhibition room. It is said that the treasures of the town hall from France this time are displayed in it. Sure enough, it was the treasure exhibition room, which was made into a fully enclosed structure, which looked more like a bank vault.Lin Hai walked in cautiously, and saw that it was designed as a secret room. In a depressing space of about 20 square meters, it was divided into two halves by an iron railing. On the wall behind the railing was the legendary It's an oil painting. At this moment, Lin Hai was the only visitor in the treasure room, and he seemed to smell that strange smell again, which made his dizziness even worse.He shook his head abruptly, forced himself to cheer up, and stared at the fatal oil painting with wide eyes—— Silence lasted thirty seconds. what did he see There seemed to be a shadow flickering in front of my eyes, it was that noon many years ago, in that narrow and cramped attic, dust danced in the sunlight, and that beautiful face was staring sadly at a Chinese boy. Yes, she is still there, still so beautiful and so melancholy, just like that night more than 400 years ago, when the blood stained the lover's head. Lin Hai saw her again, in this secret room of the Western Art Museum, on this cold and pale wall. She is in a painting. Yes, she has a pair of almost translucent emerald eyes, staring straight at the visitors in front of the canvas. There is a bit of melancholy in her eyes, but there seems to be some kind of hope and hint hidden. The complex eyes show her complex and pain inside.That's right, her expression is very strange, it is the kind of smile that is not a smile, and a look that is not sad, maybe she has tasted the most painful thing in the world. Under the painter's brush, her face is so delicate, the lines of her cheeks and chin are extremely soft, she doesn't look like a European with thick lines, but she has the charm of an oriental woman.Although she has long black hair, she is indeed a Frenchman, and her figure and temperament are unique to the French. She wore a pair of amber earrings and a gorgeous gown, the style of European courts in the sixteenth or seventeenth century.But the canvas only reveals her upper body, and the velvet shawl covers her alluring skin. Perhaps she no longer needs to use her body to seduce men. The background of the painting is immersed in shadows, and only the black curtain and some white candles can be vaguely recognized, but it is really hard to see where they are. It took Lin Hai a long time to recover as if he had been struck by lightning.He didn't dare to take a big breath, for fear that the turbid air in his mouth would pollute the painting, so he could only take a few steps back to observe.The whole painting is about sixty centimeters high and forty centimeters wide, inlaid with a gorgeous wooden frame, which can only be regarded as a small framed painting like "Mona Lisa". Why is she here? It has been a long time since he was so shocked. Lin Hai kept shaking his head, only feeling the buzzing in his head, as if a voice kept chanting a spell to him. He was still the only one in the treasure exhibition room. He stared blankly at the picture on the wall, and then saw the following description—— "Marguerite", the author is unknown, suspected to be the French court painter at the end of the 16th century.This painting was completed around 1574 A.D. The figure in the painting is the famous Queen Marguerite in French history, the daughter of Henry II of the Valois dynasty, and later married Henry IV, the founder of the Bourbon dynasty. Only now did Lin Hai know her name—Margaret. Queen Margaret of France more than four hundred years ago. However, this explanation is too simple, and it is not enough to solve many doubts in Lin Hai's mind.He turned his gaze to the painting on the wall again, and seemed to have discovered something new... No, in a blink of an eye Lin Hai covered his ears in pain, and he could feel certain voices in his brain. It was French in the 16th century, and it was the voice of a young woman. It was she in the painting who was talking to Lin Hai. There seemed to be many phantoms passing by before her eyes, and she seemed to stand up, showing him a strange smile.Gradually, her face became clearer and clearer, and she was about to walk out of the painting—— God, she had almost touched him! Lin Hai couldn't see anything in front of his eyes, and even the last bit of will collapsed. There seemed to be countless voices singing in his mind, and then he fell into the dark seabed. He really saw her. Margaret. A fatal encounter? When Lin Hai woke up leisurely, he found that there was a white world in front of him, and the strange smell in his nose had been replaced by a strong smell of disinfectant. It turned out that I was lying in the hospital. This is not a ward, but a narrow emergency room, surrounded by several people waiting for emergency treatment. Although his head was still a little groggy, he sat up immediately. Fortunately, there was no infusion tube inserted into his body, so it should be fine. "How did I come here?" Lin Hai carefully recalled what happened just now. He remembered that he went to the Western Art Museum to see the treasures exhibition of the Saint-Louis Museum in France, and saw an oil painting that shocked him, and then he lost consciousness in pain. After waking up Already in the hospital. After reacting, he quickly touched himself. Fortunately, the phone was still there. It was 4:30 in the afternoon, which meant that he had been in a coma for more than two hours. At this time, the doctor came over, and Lin Hai realized that it was people from the art museum who sent him here.It is said that he suddenly fainted in the art gallery, and the security guards rushed him to the nearest hospital. The doctor checked Lin Hai again and found that there was nothing wrong with him, and he couldn't explain why he fainted suddenly just now.In desperation, the doctor could only attribute it to the fact that Lin Hai slept too late at night, and told him that he might have hypoglycemia, and he should take more nutrition and rest. Coming out of the hospital, Lin Hai only felt as if he had gone through a long journey and had just returned from a distant world.Sitting on the bus back to school, he rubbed his head vigorously, but something seemed to be buried in his head, the more he recalled, the more painful it was. Yes, he still remembers that secret treasure exhibition room. At that time, he was the only one in the exhibition room, facing a 16th-century French oil painting called "Marguerite". Margaret——finally remembered the name again, passing through Lin Hai's body like an electric current, making him seem to see that face again. She was there, watching him. Lin Hai shivered, her face seemed to be reflected on the car window, but it was covered by the light outside the window in a blink of an eye. Dusk in Shanghai is the time when the traffic is the most congested, and the bus continues to crawl slowly in the traffic flow.Lin Hai tried hard to recall her appearance, that face became more and more clear, as well as the melancholy eyes, thin and slender lips, soft chin... What an impressive face it is, once seen it is never forgotten. Yes, he had known her a long time ago, at that noon ten years ago. That year, Lin Hai was still an eleven-year-old boy. Grandpa's old house is in the middle of a large area of ​​old houses. You have to climb a narrow staircase to enter the small rooms.Grandpa went out that noon, and his only grandson came to the old house. In addition to the peculiar smell in the room of the elderly, there was also a smell of paint, because grandpa was an art teacher at the university before retiring. Eleven-year-old Lin Hai walked into his grandfather's bedroom. He knew that there was an attic in this old house, and a wooden staircase led to the roof, but he had never gone up there.Because grandpa strictly forbids anyone to enter his attic, not even his only grandson.Throughout Lin Hai's childhood, the mysterious attic in the old house, like the legendary treasure cave, kept enticing the boy's imagination. What is hidden in the attic?趁着爷爷不在，十一岁的林海偷偷爬上了梯子，他把自己想象成了阿里巴巴，用不着念芝麻开门，他就轻轻地推开了小阁楼的木板门。 林海永远都不会忘记十年前的这个正午，小阁楼里依然散发着过期颜料的气味，正午的阳光透过屋顶的老虎窗，像白色地毯般洒满这小小的空间，不知多少年积累下来的灰尘，随着房门的打开而飞舞了起来。 阁楼里放着一张小木床，在床边的墙壁上，还挂着一幅小小的画。 画框实在太小了，大概只有8开铅画纸的大小，就像一张床头的镜子，里面是张西洋女子的脸庞。 正午的阳光照射着林海的眼睛，而墙上的画则在阳光之外。他只记得画中的女子长得很美，眼睛和头发就像传说中的仙女，画中的她有一种特殊的眼神，忧郁地凝视着这十一岁的少年。 没错，那是一张看了一眼就永远都无法忘记的脸。 十一岁的林海从此被画中的她俘虏了。 就像一粒种子落到了土壤里，不管被覆盖了多少尘土多少岁月，它总会在地下长出根须，顽强地制造出一个生命来。 自从那个正午以后，已经许多年过去了，当年的男孩也变成了一个漂亮的小伙子。难道是奇怪的命运又一次作出了安排，让他在时隔十年之后，再度与她相会？ ——他们已经相会了。 脑子里那个声音似乎又响了起来，林海痛苦地闭上了眼睛，颠簸的公车依然在拥挤的马路上爬行着，仿佛要把他带到某个极度遥远的地方。 现在林海可以确信了，下午在西洋美术馆里，他看到的那幅法国16世纪油画里的玛格丽特，正是自己十一岁那年，在老屋阁楼里看到的画里的女子。 至少——她和她长得一模一样。十一岁那年的老屋阁楼，给林海留下的印象太深刻了，他绝对不会记错的，当年老屋阁楼上的那幅画中的女子，她一定就是玛格丽特了。 当然她们不可能是同一幅画，小时候在阁楼里看到的那幅画，比今天在美术馆看到的画要小很多，大概只有它的三分之一大小。而且阁楼里那幅画只有她的头像，背景也只有一点点，而美术馆里的那幅画则是半身的坐像，她的上半身的衣服全部画出来了，还有背景也露出来许多。 也许老屋阁楼里的那幅画，只是一幅临摹的作品，或者是玛格丽特的另一幅画的复制品？但玛格丽特的脸庞早已深埋在林海心中，如同一块深深的烙印，永远都无法抹去。 不知不觉间，公车已经“爬”到大学门口了，林海这才反应过来，急匆匆地挤下了车。 天快黑了，林海直接去了食堂。晚饭后他并没有回宿舍，而是去了校园里的另一个地方——图书馆。 这是一所建造于20世纪50年代的苏联式建筑，已经许多年没有整修了，外面看上去坚固无比，里面却显得破旧不堪。室内采光也明显不足，即便把所有的电灯都打开，看起来还是有点阴森恐怖。这种环境很容易让人联想到19世纪欧洲的图书馆。 这天是星期六的夜晚，不会有谁无聊到跑到图书馆里来度周末，而且再有两个钟头这里就要关门了，所以偌大的阅览厅宛如坟墓般寂静，只有林海一个人匆忙地跑了进来。 林海并不是经常来图书馆的，他对后面几十排大书架有种莫名的恐惧。但此刻他的脑子里只有一个念头，那就是快点查出油画中的她玛格丽特，关于她的生平、事迹还有爱情，关于她所有的一切，历史书上想必都有记载的。 是的，他太想了解玛格丽特了，这个16世纪的法国公主，后来又成为了法国王后。她究竟是一个怎样的人？为何有如此迷人的魅力，竞让四百多年后的一个中国少年痴心妄想？ 在社科类的书架上，他找到了一些关于欧洲历史的书，但这些书大多泛泛而谈，关于玛格丽特的内容很少。然后他又找到了一些英文和法文的书，这里面倒是有一些详细的记载，他把这些书都搬到了阅览室里，抓紧时间看了起来—— 玛格丽特(Margot)，也有种叫法“玛戈”(Margot)，出嫁以前全名是玛格丽特·德·瓦卢瓦，她的父亲是法国瓦卢瓦王朝的国王亨利二世(1547-1859)，她的母亲凯萨琳王太后来自意大利美第奇家族，可以说她继承了欧洲声名显赫的两大家族的基因。在她的父王去世之后，她的哥哥们相继登上了法国王位，依次是弗朗西斯二世(1559-1560)、查理九世(1560-1574)和亨利三世(1574-1589)。 16世纪后半叶的法国处于“胡格诺战争”时期，天主教徒与新教徒进行着残酷的内战。公元l572年，信仰天主教的王室为结束战争，决定与新教徒的首领纳瓦尔国王亨利联姻，身为国王妹妹的玛格丽特公主，自然成为了政治婚姻的牺牲品。婚礼在巴黎举行，玛格丽特嫁给了纳瓦尔的亨利，就在众人欢庆婚礼之时，巴黎城所有的钟声都敲响了，在凯萨琳王太后的策划下，一场针对新教徒的大屠杀拉开帷幕，整个法国血流成河，这就西方历史上著名的惨案——“圣巴托罗缪之夜”。 后来又经过数年战乱，玛格丽特的兄长们全都死于非命，而她的丈夫则意外之继承了法国王位，成为了波旁王朝的开国之君——亨利四世，玛格丽特也从法国公主变成了法国王后，史称玛格丽特王后。 历史上的记载就到此为止了，并没有提供关于玛格丽特更多的内容，但林海知道在小说和民间故事里，玛格丽特可是大名鼎鼎，是一个具有传奇色彩的女人，至少大仲马就写过一部长篇小说《玛戈王后》，这个“玛戈”就是玛格丽特的另一种译名。 这时阅览大厅里的灯渐渐暗了，原来图书馆的关门时间到了，林海可不想在这坟墓般的地方过夜，他赶紧离开了这里，管理员居然没发现他的存存，目瞪口果地看着他跑出去。 晚上8点钟了，整个校园都沉浸在夜色里，在几盏昏黄的路灯下，只有那些摇曳的树丛，将树叶的影子投射到他脸上。林海又回头看了看图书馆，那些藏在书本的文字，是不是像棺材里的死尸呢？ 他匆匆向前走去，心里又浮起了那种怪怪的感觉。正当林海努力调整着自己的呼吸时，眼前依稀出现了一个黑色的影子…… 那人影转眼间已经越来越近了，就在距离他大约十几米的地方，突然以一种奇怪的姿势倒在了地上。 心头立刻狂跳了起来，林海好不容易才挪动了脚步，跑到了那个人的跟前。 这是个穿着黑色风衣的男人，还戴着一顶帽子，昏暗的路灯下看不清他的脸。林海蹲下来拉他，但他的身体是那样沉重，无论如何也动弹不了。 也许是突发心脏病了？林海靠近了对方的耳边说：“喂，你怎么了？哪里不舒服？” 突然，一只干枯的手抬了起来，紧紧地抓住了林海的左手手腕，并将他的手心朝上翻了过来。那个人的力量非常大，林海居然一下子没法挣脱开来。那人又伸出了另一只手，手里还握着一支记号笔，在林海的手心里写了几个字。 林海想要大声求救，嘴里却发不出任何声音，只能眼睁睁地看着自己的左手掌心，被人强行写上了一行字母。 然后那人就松开了手，继续一动不动地躺在地上。林海被吓得魂不附体，虽然他依然没能看清对方的脸，却闻到了浓烈的尸体腐烂味。 难道是个死人？ 可死人又怎么会走路呢？想到这个荒诞不经的设想，林海只感到毛骨悚然，他赶紧后退了几步，警惕地看着躺在地上的黑衣男子。 不，应该找人来帮忙。林海立刻向外跑去，一眨眼就跑出去了很远，总算找到了学校的值班老师。 他对老师说在图书馆附近有个人晕倒了，情况可能很危险。值班老师也紧张了起来，他带上了手电筒，和林海一起向图书馆方向跑去。 当他们回到刚才出事的地方时，却发现地上空空如也，连个鬼影子都没有留下。林海一下子傻了眼，心就像沉到了井底，他着急地向四周张望着，图书馆前是一片开阔地，在昏黄的路灯下寂静无声，宛如一片墓地。 值班老师开始用怀疑的目光看着林海了，他叉用手电筒照了照旁边的树丛，但还是一无所获。终于，值班老师忍不住了：“你们这些小孩子，不好好读书，就喜欢搞恶作剧。” 林海的嘴巴张着却无法争辩，脑子里不断回想着刚才所见到的一切，他忽然想到了什么，立刻张开了自己的左手。 在昏黄的路灯照射下，林海看到自己掌心里写着一行字母—— Aider moi 这行字母是用红色的记号笔写的，在手掌心上异常醒目。 林海认识这行字，它的意思是——救救我！ 没错，这是一句法文的短语，“Aider”是“帮助”或“拯救”，“moi”是“我”，而“Aider moi”连在一起就是“帮助我”或“救救我”！ 林海立刻拉住了值班老师，把手掌上的文字给老师看。值班老师当然不懂法文，摇了摇头说：“你什么意思？” “我是法语系的学生，这行字母的意思是'救救我'，是刚才那个倒地不起的人，用记号笔写在我手上的。” 值班老师摇摇头：“同学，建议你去精神病医院检查一下吧。” 就像是被兜头泼了盆冷水，林海失望地垂下了手，值班老师在他肩膀上拍了一下说：“回去好好休息吧，不要胡思乱想了。” 随着值班老师的离去，图书馆前的空地里只剩下林海一个人了，校园里凉凉的夜风袭过，使他禁不住瑟瑟发抖了起来。 林海也摇了摇头，难道刚才自己真的遇见鬼了？ 他叹了口气，匆匆地离开了这里，回到了自己的寝室。 寝室里还剩下两个外地同学，躺在上下铺聊天，林海来不及和他们说话，独自坐在床铺上发呆。 他竭力想要忘掉今天发生的一切，从下午在西洋美术馆里见到的《玛格丽特》，到自己离奇晕倒后送到了医院里，再到刚才图书馆外的“遇鬼记”。这所有的一幕幕都宛如电影般不断重放着，强迫着他一遍又一遍地反复咀嚼。 林海开始怀疑今天的离奇经历的真实性，会不会都是自己的幻觉呢？不，至少在西洋美术馆里见到的油画是真的，玛格丽特的脸庞也是绝对不会忘记的，还有自己在美术馆里晕倒，都可以由保安和医生来证明。 那么刚才在图书馆门口，遇到的那个黑衣男子呢？会不会是自己这些天太累了，把幻想误当做事实了？还是自己真的遇到了某个幽灵？想到这里他似乎又闻到了那股腐尸味，也许那真的是个死人？ 忽然，林海又举起了自己的左手，在寝室里明亮的灯光下，掌心里那行法文“Aider moi”更加清晰，红色的记号笔墨水散发着一股味道，看起来就像某种咒语。 Aide rmoi = 救救我 虽然也可以翻译为“帮助我”，但林海的脑子里只剩下“救救我”三个字——也只有绝望的人才会这么说，看来那人真的身处危险之中，急需要别人的帮助，正好林海经过了那里，才会发生这种不可思议的事。这件事究竟是出于偶然，还是与下午发生的怪事有所关联？ 林海转身冲出寝室，跑到卫生间里洗起手来。他把水龙头开到最大，水流猛烈地冲射到手掌心。可不管他怎么用力地洗，手心里的“Aider moi”就是洗不掉，他又找出了肥皂和洗手液，在手心里涂满了泡沫，拼命地又搓又擦，简直把手心当成了搓衣板，但那行红色的“Aider moi”就像是烙印一样，顽固地“生长”在手心里，根本就无法消灭掉。 看着自己手心里这行不死的法文，林海感到一股彻骨的恐惧，这是一个死人写在他手上的字，难道这行字里包含着那个人的灵魂？这灵魂不愿意就此消产，反而通过红色的文字(或者是咒语？)渗透进了林海的身体里，占据了他的躯壳？ 不，林海不敢再继续发挥自己的想象力了，但对手上的字也实在无可奈何，只能紧握着拳回到了寝室里。 寝室里两个同学还在没完没了地聊天，林海只觉得头痛欲裂，索性把外套脱下来躺到了床上。就在脱外套的时候，忽然感到上衣口袋里有件硬物，他连忙把手伸进了衣袋，从里面掏出来一张黑色的碟片盒子。 奇怪，林海不记得有这么一张碟片。下午当他出门的时候，上衣口袋里是空的，没有放过任何东西。他的钱和其他随身携带的东西，一向都是放在包里的。他又仔细回想了一下今天的经历，也不记得自己把什么东西放到过衣服口袋里。 来不及想这么多了，林海先打开了盒子，里面果然有一张光碟，看样子是张DVD，但它的反面并没有任何文字或图案，只是一片白色的底子。 林海从来没有看到过这张碟片，它究竟是从何而来的呢？心跳又加快了，他陷入了长时间的痛苦回忆中。当他抬起头来，只想到两种可能性，一种是他在西洋美术馆离奇晕倒时，不知是谁把这张碟片塞进了他的口袋；另一种可能是刚才在图书馆前，当他伏下身子询问那黑衣男子时，对方悄悄地把碟片塞进了他的口袋。 可那个人(或者幽灵？)为什么要这么做呢？林海摊开自己左手掌心，那行红色的“Aider moi”似乎更加醒目了。再看看这张莫名其妙地来到自己口袋里的DVD，林海很自然地产生了某种联想。也许是有某种信息要传达给他，但因为存在未知的阻隔，所以必须要采取这种特殊的方式？ 林海已下定了决心，必须要看一看DVD里的内容，不管它是“诅咒影碟”还是恐怖纪录片。 可寝室里并没有电视机，如果要开电脑看的话，一定会被其他同学看到。不，绝对不能被其他人看到，既然那个黑暗中的幽灵，如此处心积虑地要给他这样东西，就说明它非常重要，而且也极其秘密。 今天发生的一切已经让林海憋不住了，他必须要快点看到DVD里的内容，现在就要！Now！ 林海想到了一个地方。 他把碟片小心地放到包里，和同学打了声招呼，便匆匆跑出去了。 周末的校园之夜异常寂静，林海像风一样冲出学校大门。他先赶到一个好朋友的住处，向好友借了台DVD机，然后拦下一辆出租车，捧着借来的DVD机疾驰而去。 对，你可能已经猜到了，此刻林海想去的只有一个地方——老屋。 林家老屋在市中心一大片弄堂里，据说还保留了30年代原汁原味的风貌，但这些年已经越来越衰败不堪了。有许多房地产商都看中了此处的黄金地皮，但因高昂的拆迁费用所以至今未见动静。 已将近晚上10点了，林海裹着夜色穿过弄堂，腋下还夹着那台DVD机。自从十年前爷爷死了以后，他已经很久都没回过老屋了。 没人注意到林海的到来，进门的过道里也没有灯光，他只能在一片漆黑中摸索着。总算踏上了狭窄陡峭的楼梯，似乎每走一步都有可能摔下去。 终于，林海长出了一口气——三楼到了，这里就是爷爷的老屋。 自从许多年前奶奶去世以后，爷爷就一直独自居住在老屋里，林海的父亲无数次清爷爷去新公房住，但每次都被老顽同的爷爷拒绝了。在林海小时候的印象里，爷爷是个极度孤僻的老人，虽然听说爷爷曾是大学美术老师，但林海却几乎从未见爷爷拿过画笔。爷爷常常整天都不说话，谁也不知道他心里在想什么，这让小林海每次见到爷爷都会产生恐惧感。林海也极少在爷爷的老屋过夜，因为老屋里充满着过期的颜料味，更因为对于老屋黑夜的害怕。 现在，他又一次站到了老屋的房门前，鼻孔里似乎又闻到了那股熟悉的气味。林海的手颤抖着掏出了钥匙圈，在十几枚钥匙里头，有一枚特别显眼，又大又重，像个古董，这就是老屋的钥匙。几年前父亲去乡下住了，便把老屋的钥匙交给了林海，让他看好这老房子。 钥匙缓缓伸进了锁孔，随着锁眼里转动的声音，林海推开了老屋的房门。 就在推开房门的一刹那，鼻子里似乎又闻到了过期的颜料味，林海产生了一些莫名的激动。 林海伸手在墙上摸了摸，凭着记忆找到了电灯开关。有灯光闪烁了起来，是那盏十年都没亮过的日光灯，似乎要把多年来积攒的孤独发泄出来，足足跳了半分钟才彻底亮了。 终于，林海看清了这间老屋，他贪婪地呼吸着这里的空气，仿佛能闻到爷爷身上的气味。记忆中的一切都没有变，时间的一切似乎在这个屋子里凝固了，仍然停留在十年前的那个正午。 他立刻放下DVD机，来到了老屋的里间，这里是爷爷生前的卧室。那张钢丝床还在，只是上面什么都没有了，裸露着网格状的钢条。家具只剩下一个电视机柜，里面有台1993年买的2l吋进口彩电，不知道现在能不能用。卧室里有个小卫生间，还有台电热水器，本来老房子里都没有这些东西的，是十年前林海的父亲为独居的爷爷重新装修添置的。 现在，林海想到了最该看的地方——小阁楼。 他感到自己又回到了十年前，他还是那懵懂无知的少年，站在老屋阁楼下的木楼梯前。此刻，那道狭窄陡峭的木楼梯就在他眼前，而阁楼的木门就隐藏在天花板下的阴影中。 突然，耳边似乎听到了某种声音，是她在阁楼上叫他吗？对，她已经在阁楼里被因禁了十年了，是时候该把她拯救出来了。 林海抬腿跨上楼梯，小心翼翼地抓着上面的踏板，来到了阁楼门前。他轻轻推了一下小木门，只听到吱呀一声，这扇门缓缓打开了。 停顿了几秒钟，林海终于踏入了小阁楼——这个与他暌隔了十年的禁区。 这里依然一片漆黑，只有头顶亮着一线幽暗的天光，这是从天窗里射进来的光线，上海人管它叫“老虎窗”。 林海的手在墙壁上摸了好一会儿，总算打开了一盏昏黄的灯光。 然而，他并没有看到玛格丽特。 阁楼里确实有一张布满了灰尘的小木床，但墙上什么都没有，连个画框的影子都看不到。 表情转眼间就凝固了起来，就像王子历经艰险杀入了城堡，却发现睡美人不翼而飞。 她去哪儿了？ 林海摇了摇头，又仔细地环视了阁楼一圈，就连小木床底下也没放过。可这里总共巴掌大点儿地方，不会超过五个平方米，就算是个苍蝇也藏不住。 不，他嘘出了口气，像是浑身虚脱了似的。为了重新见到她的这一晚，林海已经等待了足足十年，难道一切都只是虚无的想象吗？ 忽然，他想起了死去的爷爷，那个固执而怪僻的老头。林海还记得当年爷爷给他的警告——如果有谁偷偷地进入了阁楼，那爷爷就离死期不远了。果然，就在林海进入老屋阁楼不到半个月，爷爷就突然发了急病，没几天就死在了医院里。当时林海非常害怕，他觉得正是因为自己私闯了阁楼，爷爷才会突然死去的——是自己害死了爷爷。这种可怕的想法纠缠了林海很久，在青春期来临之前的两年里，他无数次梦见了死去的爷爷，也梦见了老屋阁楼里的那个正午，包括那画中的美丽女子。 这就是林海少年时代唯一的梦，可直到现在才知道她的名字——玛格丽特。 可惜，玛格丽特是四百多年前的人。 莫名其妙的悲伤纠缠着林海，他不知道脑中这些奇特的想象从何而来，似乎一下子打乱了自己的生活。 对了，林海差点儿忘了来老屋的真正目的。他赶紧爬下小阁楼，打开了老屋里间的电视机，虽然十年没有用过了，但这台进口彩电还是亮了起来，只是没有有线电视的信号，屏幕上如雪花般模糊。 在借来DVD机的同时，林海把几根线也一起带来了，他把DVD机和电视机接了起来，看样子可以放碟片了。 林海从包里掏出了那张碟片——天知道这是哪个幽灵塞在他口袋里的。他把这张来历不明的碟片塞进了DVD机里。 在等待了片刻之后，电视机屏幕上出现了画面，居然是胶片拍出来的镜头，看起来是某部电影的片头。同时电视里传出了悠扬的音乐声，具有古典的欧洲风格。没错，这确实是电影的开头，还出现了几排字幕，但全部都是洋文。片头出现了海报式的画面，一个身穿白色长裙的黑发女子，身上沾满了鲜红的血迹，双手似乎掩面而泣。片名也渐渐浮现了出来——La Reine Margot. 看到这个片名，林海像是被电击了一下，因为这行字是法文，直译成中文就是“玛戈王后”。 他当然知道这个名字——大仲马有一部著名的历史小说，名字就叫《玛戈王后》(La Reine Margot)，写的是16世纪法国胡格诺战争期间的宫廷故事，所谓“玛戈王后”就是玛格丽特王后的另一个名称。 玛戈王后= 玛格丽特 而此刻电影已经开始了，开头是公元1572年的巴黎，无数新教徒聚集到了这里，为欢庆他们的领袖——纳瓦尔国王亨利的婚礼，而亨利的新娘则是法国国王查理九世的妹妹——玛格丽特公主。 但更让林海感到吃惊的是，扮演玛格丽特的居然是伊莎贝尔？阿佳妮，她可是法国最美的女明星，林海看过她主演的《罗丹的情人》，确实美得惊为天人。不过阿佳妮演的这位玛格丽特公主，却是个无比放荡的女子，在新婚之夜离开自己的丈夫，戴着面具跑到外边花天酒地，爱上了一个叫拉莫尔的男人，这个拉莫尔就是故事的男主角。 屏幕上出现了血腥的“圣巴托罗缪之夜”，拉莫尔死里逃生，而玛格丽特则与她的丈夫被软禁在了巴黎。当拉莫尔再度出现在巴黎时，玛格丽特知道自己已离不开这个男人了，她丝毫不顾及自己的丈夫，而深深地投入到与情人的爱中。残忍的宫廷斗争仍在继续，凯萨琳王太后要毒死玛格丽特的丈夫，在一本写有拉莫尔名字的书上下了毒药，但这本书却阴差阳错地被她的儿子查理九世国王拿了去看，查理九世中了慢性毒药，逐渐吐血而死。于是，拉莫尔被当做谋害国王的凶手而被捕，无论玛格丽特如何哀求，终究无法拯救情人的性命，拉莫尔走上了断头台。 在电影即将剧终之时，法兰西国王查理九世驾崩，他的弟弟亨利三世即位，玛格丽特奔向情人所在之地，但等待她的只是一颗带血的头颅。在巴黎阴郁的天空下，玛格丽特一身白衣被鲜咀染红，她怀抱着爱人的头颅，坐在马车中漠然离去…… 整部电影没有中文字幕，是法语原声的对白，林海基本上都能