Chapter 9 Chapter One

It's not easy traveling with a prince in trouble.His eyes were gone, but his arrogance remained; being blind did not make him humble; he wore a pilgrim's robe and pilgrim's mask, but he had none of the piety and kindness of a pilgrim. righteous.Behind the mask he still feels like a Roman prince. We headed to Paris in early spring.I seemed to be his servant in the palace, guiding him, and he ordered me to tell him my stories to amuse him and amuse him.In return, I got nothing, all he said was that I would have a meal.No one would refuse to feed a pilgrim.Every time we went to a village, we would stop at the inn. At this time, someone would always give him food, and as his companion, I would naturally be given food.Once, he made a mistake and arrogantly said to the innkeeper: "Don't forget to feed my servants too!" Of course, the blind prince couldn't see the astonishment on the boss's face-how could a pilgrim have a servant?However, I smiled at the boss, blinked my eyes, and patted my forehead. He understood and brought us two meals without saying a word.Then I told the prince about it, and from then on he called me my companion, but I knew that in his heart I was his servant.

The weather was fine along the way.As soon as December passes, Europe warms up.The slender willow branches and aspen trees on the roadside have sprouted, but most of the trees planted on the roads outside Rome were transplanted from aliens during the prosperous Second Era. The fringe leaves are not worth mentioning.The birds also ended their days in Africa and flew back across the ocean.They flew and sang excitedly in the air, chattering about the change of the master of the earth. "They are laughing at me," said the Prince one morning, "they are singing to me, they are challenging me, and they are scorning the bright life that I cannot see them."

Alas, he was feeling sick again, and that was understandable.After all, he once owned so many beautiful things, but they disappeared in an instant, and he missed so many things.For me, the fall of the earth meant nothing more than the end of old habits, and all the rest remained: no more looking, but I still wandered about the earth alone, though now with company. I wonder if the prince understands why he has become blind.I don't know if Gorman explained to him when they were victorious that the age-old tradition of jealousy over women cost him the loss of his eyes. "You snatched Afluela," Gorman might have said, "and you saw a little trapeze and thought you could play with her. So you said, come here, girl, come to my bed. Not at all. Treat her like a human being, don't think she might like others more, just know that she is a Roman prince and can do whatever she wants. Look, prince!"

...and his long-nailed fingers, like knives and forks, . . . But I dare not ask.I am still in awe of this beleaguered king.No, I couldn't pry into his privacy, and lead him to talk about his misfortunes as I would a common companion.I only spoke when he spoke to me, and I spoke only when he ordered me to speak. The rest of the time, I remained silent, like a commoner standing in front of a king. Our daily encounters tell us that princes are no longer kings. Invaders fly right above our heads, sometimes in aircraft or tanks, sometimes alone.The sky is crowded, and they are surveying the earth.

Their tiny shadows flitted past us.I looked up at our new hosts, oddly enough not hating them at all, just relieved that Earth had finally lifted its long guard.But the Roman prince was different.He seemed to know that there was an intruder passing by, so he clenched his fists, glared, and cursed secretly.Could his eyes still feel the movement of shadows?Or is it the loss of vision that sharpens the other senses, the ability to pick up the subtle hum of an aircraft or smell the skin of aerial intruders?I didn't ask.I really rarely ask questions. Sometimes in the dead of night, he thought I was asleep, so he would secretly shed tears beside me.At this time, I will sympathize with him very much. After all, he is too young to bear such a big blow.In those dark hours, I found that the crying of princes was not the same as that of ordinary people.His crying was unconvinced, unyielding, angry crying.Still, it was crying.

For a long time, he still restrained himself and accepted his fate.He walked very fast, and with every step he was farther away from Rome and closer to Paris.Sometimes I think I can see through that bronze mask, into his angry soul.Insignificant things will become an excuse for him to vent the anger he suppressed in his heart.He mocked me for being old and humble and wasting my life because the invaders I had been watching had come.Anyway, he made fun of me. "Tell me your name, Watcher!" "It is not permitted, Your Majesty." "The old rules are out of order now. Come on, man, we've got months to travel, and I can't keep calling you lookout, can I?"

"This is the rule of our group." "The rule of our regiment," he said, "is that no one can disobey an order. your name! " "Without a legitimate reason and the authorization of the leader of the group, even the members of the ruler group have no right to know the name of the watchman." He snorted, "You bastard, now that I look like this, you dare to go against me. If you were in the palace, you wouldn't have the guts to judge me!" "If you were in your palace, you wouldn't ask this question that shouldn't be asked in front of the Manchu officials. The ruler also has prohibitions to obey. One of them is to respect the rules of the low-status regiment."

"He actually taught me a lesson," said the prince, and he sat down on the side of the road angrily, spread his limbs, leaned on the grass slope, grabbed an alien tree, plucked a handful of leaves, and squeezed He held it tightly in his hand, which might have hurt his palm.I stand beside him. That's when a heavy vehicle rumbled across the road, the first vehicle we saw this morning, with the intruder inside.After a long time, the prince said softly, almost as if coaxing a child: "My name is Enrique. Tell me your name." "I beg you, Your Majesty." "But you already know my name! Like you, we are not allowed to tell others our name!"

"But I didn't ask your name," I still wouldn't budge. I still didn't tell him my name in the end.It was a small victory to refuse such a request from a powerless prince, but he did everything possible to make me pay for it.He berated me, interrupted me, teased me, cursed at me, berated me, whatever.When talking, he always looks down on our league.Call me around like a servant. I adjusted his metal mask, dripped ointment in his eyes, and many other things that were too vile to say.We stumbled on the highway like this, heading towards Paris, one was an empty old man, the other was a young man with nothing, hated each other, but walked together, just to take care of each other on the road.

This is not an easy trip.He is moody, throwing his head up and laughing wildly, imagining himself reclaiming the Earth, and despondent, realizing that the alien conquest is irreversible.When I was resting in the village, I had to beware of his recklessness, lest he still think that he was a Roman prince, who could command others at will, and even slapped them, which was completely inconsistent with the status of a holy pilgrim.Worse still, I had to satisfy his lust, pay for women, and go to him in the middle of the night, not knowing that it was a man who called himself a pilgrim.He's just an imposter because he doesn't carry the starstone that a pilgrim should have to communicate with the divine.Fortunately, I helped him through one difficulty after another, including that time when he met a real pilgrim.That's an old man with a penchant for theological controversies, and that's great. "Let us speak of the Divine Will of the Almighty," he said to the Prince.It so happened that the prince was extremely irritable that afternoon, and scolded him badly.I hastily and sneakily kicked him and said to the astonished pilgrim: "Our friend is not feeling well today, and a revelation disturbed him last night when he was speaking with the Divine Will. Please let us go." Come on, don't talk about gods or holy things with him, wait until he recovers."

In this way, I often have an idea and turn the danger into a breeze, so that we can move forward smoothly. As the weather got warmer, the prince's temper gradually softened.Maybe he slowly adapted to his doom, maybe the long dark world taught him to re-adapt to his role.He calmly talked about his past, his failures, his shame. When he talked about how powerful he was, he also clearly knew that he had no hope of regaining it.He talks about his wealth, his women, his jewels, his strange machines, his ugly men, his musicians, his servants, his eunuchs, even the rulers who once bowed to him.Can't say I liked him all the time, but at least on these occasions, I found that behind that mask of indifference was a living, tormented human being. He even started to see me as a human being, which I know is not easy. He said: "Watch people, the trouble with power is that it makes you different from other people, people become things. Just take you, to me, you are nothing more than a machine, wandering around, Be alert to the arrival of intruders. I also think that you have dreams, pursuits, emotions, etc., but I still think you are just a shriveled old man. If you leave your own group, you will be worthless. Now even though I was blind and saw more." "What did you see?" "You were once young, looking out for people. You had a hometown and family you loved, and even loved a girl. You chose a group for yourself, started as an apprentice, worked hard, starved, and often hesitated, I don't know what I'm doing, what's the point. And we, the rulers and eunuchs, once sat in the palanquin, how carefree, but all this has disappeared like a comet. Now, fate has let We two came together and went to Paris together. Which of us is happier?" "I don't care about happiness or sadness," I said. "Really? Really? Or is there something in your words? Tell me, watchman: I know your regiment will not allow you to marry, have you ever loved?" "sometimes." "You don't love now?" "I'm old," I excused. "But you can still love, you can. You're not bound by the Lookout Vow now, are you? You can have a bride." I laughed, "Who will love me?" "Don't say that, you're not that old. You've got strength, and you've seen a lot, and you should know that. Now, maybe you'll find a girl in Paris." He paused, "When you were a When watching people, have you ever been tempted?" At this moment, a trapeze flew by, she was a middle-aged woman, she fluttered in the air a few times, because the afterglow of the sun was still shining on her wings.My heart was throbbing, and I really wanted to tell the prince at once: Yes, yes, when I had a heart attack, not long ago, it was a little flying man, a little girl, Afluela; I loved her the way I did, but I never touched her; I still love her now. But I told Prince Enrique nothing. I looked at the flying man, she has wings and is much freer than me.In the warm spring, I actually felt a chill, and felt quite desolate in my heart. "Is it far from Paris?" asked the prince. "As far as we go, we'll get there one day." "and then?" "I'm going to be an apprentice at the Historians Association and start a new life, how about you?" "I hope to find old friends there," he said. We walk for a long time every day.We were offered a ride in a car, but we declined because there were intruders at every checkpoint, searching for escaped nobles like princes.We walked through miles of underground tunnels, crossed snow-covered mountains, we entered a field where farmers were working the fields, and we stopped by the roaring river to cool our feet.Before you know it, the golden summer has arrived.We walk on the earth, but the earth does not belong to us; there is no news of the conquerors, but apparently they have taken the whole earth.They sat in the car and patrolled around, patrolling the planet that was already theirs. I tried my best to satisfy the prince's request, including those very unpleasant ones, and hoped that he would feel better.I made him feel like he was still the leader—just the leader of an old, useless watchman, of course.Using what little knowledge I had, I taught him how to be a pilgrim, including dressing, speaking, and praying.Obviously, he rarely communicated with the Holy Will before, and now, he keeps saying that he is a pious pilgrim, it is nothing more than a disguise, and there is still very little sincerity in his bones. In a small town called Dijon, he said, "I'm going to buy my eyes here." Of course he wasn't referring to the real eyes.The technology to create eye substitutes has been lost since the Second Era.Money can buy any miracle on those lucky alien planets, but our Earth is a forgotten corner, a backwater of the universe.If the earth hadn't fallen, the prince might still be able to spend some money to go to an alien planet to restore his eyesight, but now, the existing conditions can at best help him distinguish day from night, but it's better than seeing nothing at all.For now, his only guide is a reflector attached to his mask, alerting him to obstacles in his path.But how did he know that a skilled entertainer could be found in Dijon?And what did he pay the entertainer with?He said: "There is a man here who is the brother of one of my former loggers, from the Artisan Club, and I used to buy his things in Rome. He will do my eyes." "What about the cost?" "I'm not at the end of my rope yet." We went into a field of gnarled cork trees, and the Prince took off his robe, pointed to a spot on his thigh, and said, "I have something urgent here. Give me your blade!" I said. Handing him the blade, he held the handle and pressed the gleaming blade. He groped with his left hand on the thigh, finding the exact spot; then, pressing down on the muscle with two fingers, he made a precise two-inch incision.He didn't bleed, and he didn't show any pain.I was dazed, watching as he put his fingers into the slit, tore it open, and picked it up like something in a big sack.He threw my blade back at me. A pile of jewels poured from his thigh. "Keep an eye on it so you don't lose it!" he ordered me. There were seven shiny alien gems, a small and exquisite space ball, five gold coins from the ancient Roman Empire, a luminous bionic coating ring, a perfume bottle containing some kind of perfume, some with rare Miniature musical instruments made of wood and metal, eight small statues of emperors, and more.I gathered these dazzling babes into a bunch. "This is my spare bag," said the prince calmly, "a surgeon who was very skilled transplanted it into my muscles. I expected that one day I might be in trouble and flee the palace in a hurry, so I put it in it. everything I could put in; there's more treasure in it. Tell me what's out!" I reported the names of these treasures to him, and his expression has been very focused. I know he is counting, to see if I am honest and reliable.After I finished reporting, he nodded with satisfaction. "Take that little ball," he said, "the ring, the two brightest gems, and keep them in your pockets, and put the rest back where they belong." Put one in, and only the prince knows what else is in it.Maybe he's stuffed half the palace's treasures into his thighs.In the end, he closed the incisions together, and I saw the incisions heal on their own without leaving a trace.He puts on his robe. In town, we quickly found the craftsman Porto's shop.Bodo was a squat man with a pockmarked face, a gray beard, a twitching eye, a flat and rough nose, but his hands were as delicate as a woman's.The shop was dark, with dusty wooden shelves and small windows; the house must be ten thousand years old.There are only a few nice things in it.He gave us a wary look, obviously surprised that a lookout should have entered his shop with the pilgrims. The prince gave me a dark push, and I said, "My friend needs eyes." "I'm making this stuff, but it's expensive and takes months to prepare. Pilgrims probably can't afford it." I put a gem on an antique counter. "We have money." Bo was taken aback, grabbed the gem, looked left and right, and found that there was still an alien flame shining inside. "If you come when the leaves are starting to fall..." "You don't have any in stock?" I asked. He smiled. "I'm rarely approached for this kind of stuff. We only have a very small amount in stock." I put the alien balls on the counter again.Bodo recognized that it was made by an expert, and he was so surprised that he couldn't close his jaw.He held the ball in one hand and stroked his beard with the other.I let him see enough, the more he liked it, then I took back the ball and said: "Autumn is too long, we have to go somewhere else, maybe Paris." I took the prince's arm and walked towards the door together . "Wait!" Podo yelled. "Let me look it up! Maybe there's a pair somewhere..." He rushed to the back wall and rummaged in the large bag hanging from it. Of course he has it in stock.I made a deal with him to exchange the ball, the ring, and a jewel for his eyes.The prince remained silent.I insisted on having my eyes fitted right away, Bodo nodded vigorously, closed the shop door, put on his thinking helmet, and called a sallow-faced surgeon.Everything will be ready in no time.The prince was lying on the sterilized platform in the closed room, the reflector and mask were removed; seeing the chiseled face, Bodo, who had been to the Roman palace, grunted in surprise, and then began to talk.I stomped on him hard, and he quickly shut up; while the ignorant surgeon, without a word, began to clean the hole in the prince's eye. The fake eyes are two pearl-coloured spheres, smaller than the real ones, and have transverse slits.I don't know what structure is inside, I only see a small golden bump on the back, which is used to connect the eye nerve.During the first half of the operation, the prince was asleep, and I watched from the side, while Bodo was helping the surgeon.Now it's time to wake up the prince.His face twitched with pain, but he held it back quickly, and Podo couldn't help but prayed a little for his strong will. "Bring a lamp here," said the doctor. Bodo slowly pushed a suspended sphere closer."That's right, that's right, it's different," said the prince. "We still have to test and make some adjustments," the doctor said. Bodo went out and I followed him.He trembled and his face turned green with fear. "Are you going to kill us now?" "of course not." "I recognize..." "You recognize a poor pilgrim," I said, "who suffered a lot of misfortune along the way. That's all, nothing else." I checked Porto's inventory, and then the surgeon and his patient came out.The prince now has pearl-like eyeballs in his eye sockets, surrounded by a ring of fake muscles to better hold them in place.The lifeless fake eyeballs made him look even more mechanical.When I turned my head, the crack grew bigger and smaller silently. "Let's see," he said, walking around the room, identifying objects and even naming them.I know he still looks through a thick veil, but anyway, he can see a little bit now.He put on his mask again, and by dusk we were well behind Dijon. The prince looked very happy.But soon, he realized that the sockets in his eyes were just fake eyeballs, and they were all Gorman's masterpieces.That night, when we were lying on the old bed in the Pilgrim Inn, the prince expressed his anger silently. There was a moon hanging in the sky, and there were two artificial moons. The moonlight made me see clearly. Slam the imaginary enemy ahead with one blow.