Chapter 1253

Schiller's movements paused slightly. He took a pen out of his suit pocket and spun it gently in his hand.

"He is feeling anxious," Bruce's voice echoed in the theater, "This pen is a mental stability item he uses to recall his professor identity. I often see it."

"When he was reviewing your thesis?"

"When he was reviewing my thesis," Bruce turned to look at Hal, who asked the question, and said, "But at that time, one pen was not enough."

"If you don't mind, Mr. March, could you please hang your clothes on the coat rack?" Schiller's tone was still quite gentle, without any impatience.

"I don't see a coat rack. Where is it?" March turned his head and looked at the door.

Diana covered her forehead and sighed, saying, "I absolutely don't mean to discriminate against the poor, but I think anyone with a little knowledge should know that wealthy people have a separate room in their homes for clothes, and they won't have a coat rack by the door for hanging coats like ordinary people."

"Usually, a waiter will take the clothes and send them to the wardrobe in the cloakroom specifically used for storing guests' clothes. It is usually on the left hand side of the cloakroom. And if only the host is at home, with the host's permission, they can also fold the clean clothes and place them on the back of the chair."

"Isn't March doing just that?" Clark asked.

"Clothes must be clean and folded, and more importantly, they must first be approved by the host." Bruce looked at Clark. He knew that the small-town boy lacked common sense in this area. This had nothing to do with intelligence level; he just hadn't been exposed to this kind of life, so naturally, he didn't know what to do.

"In this kind of interaction, it is very important for both parties to maintain a clean appearance. Once the clothes are dirty or damaged, the current conversation should be ended immediately, apologize to the other party, and then go to the washroom to deal with it. If it cannot be handled in a short time, perhaps today's conversation will end here," Diana explained patiently.

"Oh," Clark made a sound of sudden realization, then pointed to the screen and said, "Schiller just spilled red wine on his tie. Was he actually trying to end this conversation on purpose?"

"Exactly. This is the purpose of our adherence to etiquette. We don't have to rudely say to the other party, 'I don't want to talk to you, please leave immediately,' but use a more tactful way to express that we should separate temporarily for now."

Several ordinary people present who came from ordinary backgrounds nodded thoughtfully, while Bruce said, "This is a way for the upper class to keep themselves separated from the poor class, creating a set of etiquette that the lower class cannot access or even imagine, to prevent those who cannot bring them benefits from participating in their lives."

"Sounds very evil," Barry curled his lips and said.

Before Bruce could speak, Clark said thoughtfully, "It seems like every circle is like this. When my dad goes to participate in the farm group's party, his attire and speech are different from usual."

"He is actually not a particularly rough villager. He likes to pay attention to international current affairs, has read a lot of books, and even has a master's degree in agronomy. He also respects my mother very much and considers her opinions in everything."

"But at the party, he behaved like the male host in those hereditary farm-owning families, bold and wild, even slightly barbaric, male chauvinistic, and liked to flick his lips, just like this."

Clark made a weird grimace, and several people laughed. Jason supported his face with one hand and said, "This is not entirely a bad thing. Every gang must have some secret codes that others don't understand, even eyes and expressions. Besides being able to pass information at critical moments, it also gives us a sense of security, as if we have many 'our own people'."

"Keeping the same secret is the best way to form an alliance," Harley said, "Adhering to the same set of etiquette is the same."

"Obviously, this Mr. March is not from this circle," Constantine shook his head and said, "He is not deliberately showing off or intentionally retaining his personality, but he doesn't understand, yet still wants to pretend."

"In fact, there is no shortage of mavericks in every circle who can still get by," Bruce cast his eyes on Constantine's face and said, "But there is a difference between personality and stupidity. You have to be a smart person first before you can be a weirdo, otherwise, besides being weird, you look exceptionally stupid."

"I almost thought that professor was sitting here," Constantine showed a smile, raised his eyebrows at Bruce dissolutely, and said, "Who was it just now who almost cried because of Schiller's change of heart?"

Bruce turned his head back, not looking at Constantine, who had a teasing face, but cast his gaze back to the screen again.

Schiller's gaze fell on the clothes placed on the back of the chair. Dust and water vapor on the coat were actually not a big problem. The leather of that chair was not very valuable, and the casually folded clothes were not ugly. This action was still within the scope of bold behavior that could be understood.

But the problem was that March threw his clothes on the chair on one side and then sat down on the chair on the other side. He sat on the single sofa alone, facing his coat scene, looking exceptionally ridiculous.

Schiller stood in place, and the obvious pause in his hand made everyone in the theater seem to hear a sentence—"Should I leave?"

Hal still couldn't help but laugh out loud. He patted his knee and said with a smile, "Schiller has nowhere to sit!"

"This is the first time I've encountered this situation. Is this Lincoln March planning to let his coat give him psychological counseling? If he wants to get warmth from Schiller like his coat, then he's thinking too much."

"It's quite embarrassing," Barry turned his head away. He almost grabbed the ground with his toes, but he couldn't help but peek at the screen secretly, and said with some curiosity, "So, what is Schiller going to do? Where is he sitting?"

I saw on the screen that the professor walked around the back of the chair where March was sitting, tapped the back of the chair gently with his hand, and then walked towards the stairs, saying, "Mr. March, let's go to the 2nd floor. The view is better there, suitable for entertaining distinguished guests like you."

March turned to look at him. Before he could stand up, Schiller had already walked up the stairs. Because Schiller was walking in front, he could be the first to sit in the chair on the side of the window on the 2nd floor.

"A perfect resolution," Diana couldn't help but admire, "Although I don't know much about this professor and have only heard about him from Bruce's few words, there is no doubt that he is a gentleman."

"In social occasions of celebrities, embarrassing situations where newcomers sit in the wrong position often occur. Usually, people will remind him quietly, but changing positions under the gaze of others is still a bit embarrassing, which is equivalent to admitting one's mistake."

"Although every newcomer has such a day, I do prefer this professor's way of handling it. Call people out, let him vacate the seat, let the right person sit on it, and when the newcomer comes back, he will understand that he made a mistake, but he sits in a new seat like a newly arrived guest, which is not so embarrassing."

"I dare say, this is just the beginning," Constantine threatened without sitting properly, leaning on one side of the chair, laughing while saying, "Then let's see if this professor can be elegant to the end."

Diana and Bruce also cast their eyes on the screen. As celebrities with real experience, they could see that March would make mistakes again and again. They also wanted to know how the professor would resolve the embarrassment again and again?

To be honest, this kind of scene is rare. In the eyes of several people who know Schiller better, Schiller rarely needs to tolerate others. He often hates everyone equally. Sometimes before others make mistakes, he has already rushed them out of the office.

And the reason why Schiller tolerates March running wild on his turf is nothing more than the Batman of this universe putting a lot of pressure on him. Their universe doesn't have such a Batman. This good show, if you miss it once, you'll have to wait another hundred years.

Until March sat opposite him, Schiller stood up again, took a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the low cabinet by the wall in the reception area on the 2nd floor.

When Schiller sat back, March showed him a smile. Schiller stood beside his chair, leaned forward, and placed one of the glasses in front of March. Because he was slightly closer to him, he could see the expression on March's face clearly.

"Lincoln March's expression has changed," Jason's voice lowered, but he was very certain, "He has a little sense of security. Why?"

Bruce immediately focused his eyes on Jason. He blinked quickly, seemingly in admiration, and then said in the same low tone, "There are traces of two wine glasses on the table, and more importantly, the red wine stain that Schiller spilled earlier is still on it."

"Didn't Professor Schiller clean up the room earlier?" Clark asked.

"It was left by Schiller on purpose," Bruce replied, "After seeing the corpse, Schiller knew that this clumsy murderer would definitely come to him."

"This murderer doesn't know who Schiller is, and may only think that Schiller is an ordinary person or an autopsy expert. He thinks he can fool Schiller. He enjoys the stimulation and pleasure of swaggering in front of key figures in the police force."

"Schiller is very clear about this psychology of his, so he knows he will definitely come. So he wiped all the other tables clean, leaving only the one that was stained when talking to Batman untouched."

"Schiller deliberately left traces, wanting the murderer to see," Bruce inferred while thinking, "The purpose is to let the murderer think that he had talked to someone here, the atmosphere was very harmonious at first, and they even drank red wine, but the result of the conversation was unsatisfactory, and they knocked over the red wine during the quarrel."

"What is the purpose of him leaving this kind of hint?" Barry asked.

Bruce did not answer, but silently watched the screen. He knew that Schiller's next move would reveal this.

"I believe you must be a lucky person," Schiller unbuttoned his suit after sitting down and said, "Mr. March, I don't want people to visit without authorization, not because I'm afraid of noise, but because my work is a bit busy. If people come without an appointment, it is very likely that I will be talking to other guests, which will disturb our conversation and also result in a wasted trip."

"Oh, so to speak, am I really lucky?" March glanced at the traces on the table again and said, "You just happened to have no guests?"

"No, there were guests originally, but we ended the conversation early and left here. Otherwise, according to the professional ethics of a psychiatrist, I'm afraid I could only turn you away."

"I know, being a psychiatrist is a very hard job. Many patients have no sense of proportion, but you can only endure it. Unpleasant conversations will ruin all good moods, and money cannot compensate for this kind of trauma," March said in a sincere tone.

"Not a good phenomenon," Constantine suddenly said, "He is trying to create resonance with Schiller, trying to speak into Schiller's heart, trying to make Schiller think someone understands him, so as to pour out secrets to him."

"A huge judgment error," Bruce's wording was more extreme, "Anyone with a little common sense wouldn't use this trick on a psychiatrist, because psychiatrists have said these words countless times, almost carved into their bones."

Barry frowned slightly. He recalled and said, "It seems so. Before I went out on field missions, I also received psychological assessments. The first sentence the psychiatrist said was, 'I know your profession is very hard and you have to face great pressure'."

"Because this is the prelude to opening one's heart, and the way to play it is very simple. You don't need to really empathize; you just need to make the situation sound serious."

"Actually, I'm wondering about a question," Diana's brow furrowed deeper and deeper, and she said, "I'm not a detective and not good at reasoning, just a little understanding of the red tape of this upper class, and everything else relies on intuition. Don't you think this March is a bit strange?"

"We all see his strangeness, lady," Constantine said.

"No, I don't mean his posture of not understanding etiquette but still pretending. I have seen this posture in many scammers who want to mix into the upper class, which is not strange at all. What I find strange is that March doesn't really not understand."

"He has some understanding, but not complete, or it's a bit like being instilled with theory by someone, but never practiced it personally, so there is a feeling of awkwardness where thought and behavior are separated."

"And this feeling of awkwardness is even more obvious against the backdrop of Schiller's natural behavior."

Listening to Diana's slightly doubtful tone, Bruce slowly narrowed his eyes, obviously thinking of something.