Chapter 1578

When Luo Ji closed the book, she was lost in thought. She didn't know at what point in time Schiller left such a line of text. It might have been after the situation in Asgard stabilized, or even earlier, but it was perfectly consistent with Luo Ji's view from beginning to end.

The doctor has an amazing brain. Luo Ji knew this very early on. Unlike others, Luo Ji knew better that those views that pointed directly to the point did not come from some kind of superpower-type mind reading, but more like the result of precise analysis and judgment.

What exactly shaped these views of his?

The three sentences written in this book made Luo Ji even more curious about this. A smart person should always have his reasons for being smart, and if he is as smart as Schiller, if someone says there is no story, no one will believe it.

Luo Ji put the book back in its original place, and carefully wiped away the traces left by the movement just now. She turned around and started to continue looking at this room.

The clinic in Hell's Kitchen itself is not big, and three rooms were squeezed into the second floor, so the bedroom seems relatively cramped. Even so, it still squeezed in two rows of bookshelves against the wall, a row of display racks, and a desk by the window. The bed here actually didn't occupy much area.

The whole room presents a wooden brown tone, with a very light smell of wood and ink, which should come from the books displayed on the desk, and the most impressive thing is that all the tables and shelves in the room are filled with strange crafts.

In the eyes of Asgardians, these things in the room cannot be counted as antiques, and in Luo Ji's taste, many of them do not have high commercial value, more like small gadgets like souvenirs, and some even look like they were picked up from somewhere.

Luo Ji had already been able to imagine in her mind that whenever the doctor went somewhere, he would pick up some small things in local shops and bring them back. Luo Ji even found a few small planet fragments, which might be celestial bodies that were smashed when cosmic demons were fighting, and were picked up by Schiller.

Perhaps in his spare time, Schiller would recall every bit of his past from these items. When Luo Ji thought of this, she couldn't help but show a smile. This way of remembering the past is quite "human."

Schiller lifted his back from the back of the chair and sat up straight, then sat back, then leaned his body forward, reached out and fiddled with the reel of the fishing rod, and said: "The cold tones of sorrow from suffering always remind people of death, and survival and destruction are the main themes of all art."

"Suffering shapes art?" Seeing Natasha tasted this sentence on the tip of her tongue, swallowed the inductive questions she was about to ask, and raised another more philosophical question: "How does suffering shape art?"

"No expectations, have to come, in a hurry, praying that everything goes well, and after finishing the business, I can leave this place immediately."

Seeing Natasha didn't expect him to ask this question. She was stunned for a few seconds before reacting to what topic Schiller was talking about, so she answered as a starter.

Luo Ji was proud originally. She always believed that no matter when or where, the preferential treatment she received was what she deserved.

"I am the exact opposite of you. I am full of interest and expectations."

But this satisfied a strange desire to peep. If one could see the private side of a well-known perfect person, it would always make people feel a sense of superiority that I am different.

Luo Ji walked along the two rows of bookshelves against the wall. She found that the books on the bookshelf were mainly divided into several categories. One category was professional books, most of which were psychology and psychiatry books, and another category was folk miscellaneous stories, strange novels, and theoretical books related to literature, art, and philosophy.

What made Luo Ji feel a bit surprised was that the range of art books included was very narrow, almost completely excluding art forms such as music and dance, and only remaining fine arts, or plastic arts.

Shen Qing nodded and said: "But you might not know that I can paint, because I have never painted, until that day before we set off."

She pulled both sides of her upper lip down hard and said: "Doctor, all your behaviors in the past added together bring me more pressure than now."

On the vast and quiet ice field, Schiller wiped the water droplets on his hands with a gemstone blue towel. He had just put a disobedient young pike into the water tank. The process was not very simple, but it was a bit thrilling, because as soon as that fish took the bait, it used its strong and powerful tail to knock the cigarette out of Seeing Natasha's hand.

But at this time, she heard Schiller speak again: "Charles should have told you about my experience before college. Do you want to hear about what happened after that?"

Seeing Natasha raised her eyes slightly in surprise, but soon put her eyes back on her fishing rod, and then said: "I would like to accept your praise on behalf of the Russian ballet dancers, but you actually know that I dance ballet not for art, right?"

Seeing Natasha was almost going to cover her forehead. She felt that she needed another cigarette, because she really couldn't help but want to nod, while at the same time she was very clear that Schiller definitely didn't just want to tell his own story.

"That sounds quite insightful, but I have never heard that you have any art education background or related hobbies, Doctor." Seeing Natasha paused as if searching her memory, and then added: "You seem to never go to the opera house, nor buy records."

Seeing Natasha felt that her interest had become high, and from the task of completing the eavesdropping on Schiller's past, she gave birth to some extra curiosity, and art is actually a topic she can talk about quite well.

"What do you think of art, Madam?"

The female agent's left side was still red, but she had already taken out another cigarette like she couldn't wait. She put one end of the cigarette into her mouth like a thirsty addict, bit the cigarette with her teeth, and said unclearly.

"It'll be soon." Seeing Natasha turned the reel of the fishing rod violently like venting, lifted the fishing line, reached out and grabbed the hanging bait swaying in mid-air, and planned to change a new one.

"Suffering may not shape personality, but it usually shapes art."

"What type of art are you referring to? I have danced ballet, and even danced quite well, but I don't think it's art, at least for me it's not."

"Then why did you go to college?"

"Russian ballet art is world-famous," Schiller said noncommittally: "It's different from French ballet. It's not like the lace used for decoration sewn by the extravagant celebrities on the edge of the era of material desires, but more like a powerful declaration against ice and storms."

Thinking that the demon was fighting fiercely in the universe at that time, and Schiller, the mastermind who planned everything, was neither planning behind the scenes nor commanding the charge on the front line, but chasing behind the demon's butt to pick up souvenirs, Luo Ji wanted to laugh.

"Since you still call me Doctor, I have to remind you that your lungs are about to be burned by cigarettes, and you haven't caught a single fish yet."

But if there is a thinking tower in a person's mind that can store countless memory fragments, the souvenir is actually redundant, so this looks a bit childish and brings a bit of cute stupidity, and it doesn't look like something the usually shrewd doctor would do.

It is well known that Dr. Schiller is a person who will never regret, or there is no room for him to regret. After all, he has already arranged everything in front of him clearly, and all the results are within expectations. What is there to regret?

"I have visited the art gallery of the Repin Academy of Fine Arts," Seeing Natasha wiped the frost dissolved on the tip of her chin with the back of her hand, which was still a bit red, and recalled: "That is very different from art in the United States or Europe. Just as Nick said, Russian art always contains a vitality from suffering. Affectation and moaning without illness are not the main theme here."

"Because that is the expectation of others," Schiller also pulled the fishing line up to change the bait that was not very fresh. He said while busy: "That is a result that can make everyone very happy, so I went."

Luo Ji knew that most human intellectuals were very interested in philosophy, and if one wanted to study psychology, it was even more inseparable from the worldview, so it was not strange that Shen Qing would like to read philosophy books.

"Well, Doctor, I really can't imagine the scene of you studying humbly. Can you describe it in detail?"

"For performance? Most art is performance."

Luo Ji roughly scanned the books on the bookshelf. There were many literary classics, and there were representative classics from various countries. No characteristics could be seen. Luo Ji also cast her eyes on art books.

Just literature and art...

Seeing Natasha felt that the answer was a bit mediocre, and it didn't sound as amazing as before, but then, she heard Shen Qing say: "Forgive me for not being able to answer this question better, Madam, because if I want to argue it better, I have to start from you."

Seeing Natasha was stunned for a moment before she understood what Schiller meant. She had to take a hard puff of the cigarette, and then forcefully spit out the smoke, obscuring her vision.

Seeing Natasha was surprised to find that she actually saw a trace of regret on Schiller's face. It was so childish that it didn't look like him.

Seeing Natasha was really a bit surprised this time. She was very sure that the people around Schiller, those friends she saw every day, really didn't know that Schiller could paint.

"I thought that there would always be some surprises in the long four years of life that would make me not regret the original decision, but the facts proved that I was wrong. The whole college life was boring to death."

Just like now, she walked upstairs directly to Shen Qing's bedroom, instead of turning around and leaving like Stark, so she naturally should get those secrets. That is the reward for the correct choice made by her wisdom.

Seeing Natasha decided not to speak, and this female agent could always faithfully execute every decision of her own. She planned to execute it until lunch. If Nick and Steve didn't catch a single fish, mocking them would be a good new topic.

"I knew that coming here with them wouldn't be anything good!" Seeing Natasha blew out another puff of smoke, forcefully pressed the remaining cigarette butt on the ice and threw it aside, while Schiller just looked at her with some amusement, as if watching a ballet performance.

"I was just about to say that," Schiller said soothingly. When he put the fishing hook back into the water, he paused slightly and said: "What were you like when you first came to the United States?"

The truth is like a sweet bait—Seeing Natasha only now understands the true meaning of that sentence. What is the benefit of knowing what Schiller is? What is the use of this kind of truth? To complete the mission? But this is actually not a mission, it's just Nick mentioning it casually. Seeing Natasha saw that his work was not easy, and wanted to do a favor for her old boss.

Schiller shook his head and said: "In fact, there is no factor in my learning process that can be called humble, or it can be directly called the opposite of humble."

Seeing Natasha gave birth to real curiosity, so she leaned her body forward and asked tentatively: "At that time, were you still you? Were you still... Doctor?"