Chapter 55: The Fatso Who Can't Be Saved
The bellowing old Duke of Brindlemark must have been referring to my allowing those military enthusiasts to gallivant around Constantinople with the noblewomen. Come to think of it, what have I done lately? Woo a widow, cavort with some noblewomen, and that's about it.
The silent old man, the useless old man, the furious old Duke of Brindisi, looking at those two enthusiastic Romans, I felt ashamed for the first time.
"I'm terribly sorry, old chap, I think I shall take all the blame for the recent laxity."
The Duke of Oldenburg angrily dispersed us at the edge of the cemetery and told us to go back and reflect on ourselves.
More than thirty of us gathered at the entrance of a small village inn, gazing up at the starry sky, the atmosphere was oppressive.
"This time going north will be a tough battle?" Morris said, leaning against the doorpost.
"Climate is our enemy, the long supply lines make us more vulnerable to attack, and the Russians are all big men, almost every one of them over 1.8 meters tall."
"Most importantly, several Russian marshals are not to be underestimated."
Several Russian marshals are no ordinary people, and it's no wonder that the old generation of imperial nobles would be worried.
Pyotr Lassie, a Russian nobleman, participated in 25 battles, 9 meetings and 12 sieges, a total of 46 wars, with 31 wins, 5 draws and 8 losses.
Burchard Christoph von Munnich, a German by birth but in Russian service, was the only marshal who could match Peter's record, and 17 of Peter's 31 victories were won with his assistance.
Alexei Orlov, a descendant of the Rurik dynasty in Kiev, although his family was not as prominent as that of the Dolgorukovs, Repnins and Golitsyns, still held the highest position among the favorites of Russian queens. As Elizabeth's most trusted army commander, he participated in the War of Polish Succession, mainly fighting against scattered and disorganized Polish nobles, his military achievements were not as brilliant as those of the previous two commanders, but he was also a victorious general.
Vasili Vladimirovich Dolgorukov, a member of the Dolgorukov family, high-ranking official of the Russian Empire, twice exiled and twice reinstated, supporter of the current Queen of Russia, skilled in intrigue and a seasoned military commander, his history is that of the rise of the Russians, with 58 battles, 27 victories, 22 draws, and 9 defeats, often serving as the rear guard general.
A heavyweight figure of the Empire, Maurice's grandfather Sviatoslav Vasilyevich was more than ten years older, and his achievements were naturally even more brilliant. The marshals and generals of Russia did not destroy a single country, but he destroyed three sultanates. However, heroes do not mention their past bravery, and this old Duke Brinkas is so old now.
The outlook for the empire wasn't looking good even before the war began.
I didn't sleep all night, and the next morning I rode my horse again, returning to Constantinople after noon. Only then did I remember that I had an appointment in Münchner Freiheit.
Dion Street, Mnemosyne, the fat brother of the temple was waiting there early, the sun in Constantinople's autumn is not too fierce, but this old brother still sweated a lot, and wiped his face with a handkerchief.
Penny Vis, a literary girl, still holding an umbrella, walked back and forth at the door with dissatisfaction.
As soon as she saw me, the artistic girl's face was full of complaints that couldn't be hidden: "Every time you make an appointment with someone, you're always late."
"What's the smell?" The artistic girl hurriedly flapped her small hands, subconsciously trying to drive away the smell from her nose. Then she looked at me and said, "Your face is so pale, your clothes are all messy, where did you go drinking last night?"
I took a few deep breaths by the door and tried to force out a smile: "It's hard to put into words!"
"It's harder to laugh than cry." The artistic girl burst out laughing, her smile was sweet and beautiful, with a hint of amusement at the corners of her mouth. She put away her umbrella, "Let's go in, I'll make you a cup of coffee to refresh your spirits."
"Great taste, little brother!" The big fat man said in a low voice as he walked over.
Forcing a smile, I'm not in the mood for this: "We're friends."
Marcus's eyes were ambiguous: "Uh-huh, I see."
The fat guy didn't understand at all, I didn't come to him to discuss the literary girl's head and foot, bringing this stuff into the coffee shop, I just let Pennywise not bother with making any coffee. After introducing the two people, I started explaining the postal department's greeting card business. There are two key points to making greeting cards: first, you need to seize the opportunity, release suitable greeting cards at the right time for the right crowd; second, the production of greeting cards must be exquisite, not stereotyped, and have a certain artistic sense, keeping a certain fashion sense. After finishing speaking briefly, if the two people didn't have any questions, I was about to leave.
"Although I don't know much about politics, but during wartime, to have such a celebratory thing, is this really good?" Penelope grasped the key point, while the big fat guy next to her was still in a daze.
"I'd like to hear your advice." Pennie's sharp intuition softened my attitude, maybe she can do it?
"Why don't we make Christmas and Thanksgiving cards into greeting cards instead? With beautiful covers and written blessings, I think the soldiers who are about to go to the battlefield will be very happy to receive these."
Penny's idea is similar to mine, I nodded: "I mean the same thing, you've got a good aim at the market target. From the blessings of elders in the family to their grandchildren, the vows between lovers, and the advice from old veterans to new soldiers, these are all things we can write about. But! Note! Can't write, no matter what, it's most important to survive and take care of yourself!"
"What? Why?"
Her cousin still didn't get it, Pennywise tilted her head slightly, looking as if she understood.
"This has an impact on the morale of the troops! We can't write those things, instead, we have to write blessings that boost the morale of the troops on the greeting cards! For example, a father buying for his son, the blessing on the card could be: When I saw my newborn baby boy, I thought I welcomed a son. So many years have passed, I've always protected you as a father, and I thought this life would go on like this, but I really didn't expect that my son would take up arms and go to the battlefield, becoming the guardian of our family. My son, I'm proud of you! Or for example, a girl buying for her boyfriend, the blessing on the card is: You're a lovely person, my sweet love, not because of your sweet words, but because you decided to go to the battlefield to protect me. Dear, I love you, and every day during your battles, I'll pray for your bravery at church... It's roughly this kind of positive stuff, do you know?"
Penny got it, and big fat Marcus seemed to get it too.
"Alright, now that everyone understands, I can rest assured: 'Brother, get the cover artist and samples ready as soon as possible, we don't have much time!'"
Dà Pàng Zǐ happily agreed to go back and take care of the workshop and machines while also dealing with this matter as soon as possible. At this time, Pennywise said: "It's not necessarily to find a university painter, we can also help. I have many friends who are good at painting."
I patted my watch and nodded at the literary girl, then instructed Big Fatty: "My time is limited! While I'm still in Constantinople, I can give you a hand. By the way, Miss Pennywise, when you go back, you can also let your friends make some samples, and if there's anything insufficient before I leave, I'll give you some advice."
"Where are you going?" asked my elder cousin.
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The first extra has come out, is there anyone else signing up?
