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    "Dear brother, do not avenge yourself, rather give in and surrender to the wrath of the Lord. For it is written, Vengeance is mine, says the Lord. I will repay you, and you shall not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good?"  Among the bustling crowd at Austerlitz station, a priest wearing a shabby black robe and a cross on his chest murmured to the void.  ¡°Perhaps because he traveled for too long before arriving in Paris, his body was covered in mud and dust, and his clothes were already in tatters, spread out on his thin torso like branches, and the smell was even worse.  However, on his pale face, one can clearly see the self-satisfaction of an ascetic monk, as if all the sufferings were just small bumps before he threw himself into the arms of the Lord.  The priest stood there blankly, watching trains filing out of the trains.  This city is the railway hub center of the entire empire. It has several stations. This station is directly south of Paris.  Although it is only one of the stations, the ceiling of the station uses a lot of skylights, so it is very bright.  The main building of the station is a square, four-story building. The carefully selected marble material makes its appearance appear bright white. A large number of passengers shuttle back and forth in the corridor, creating a busy scene.  At the top of the main building, a huge spire stands on it. On the front of the spire is a huge clock, which is used to tell the time to travelers from all over the world. On the front of the clock tower, there is an N-shaped cursive letter representing Napoleon.  A crown is engraved on the top of the letters. This emblem and the name Austerlitz both unabashedly show off the glory of the emperor and the glory of the empire.  And at the top of the spire, the imperial eagle emblem inlaid with gemstones shines brightly, refracting psychedelic light in the sun, generously falling on the heads of every passenger coming and going.  Looking from a distance, this bell tower stands in the mid-air like an obelisk. It is both completely beautiful and full of compelling momentum.  In order to reflect the empire's power to dominate all corners of France, the government tried its best to show off the empire's strength and wealth on these landmarks. Under the witness of the clock tower, trains followed the tracks with black and white smoke.  The roar plunged the entire station into a confused fog, like an illusion.  Amid the roar of the whistle, he gave his final sigh to the people, like thunder coming from the sky.  "Repent!" Naturally, the hurried bystanders all avoided this priest who appeared out of nowhere. No one was interested in taking another look at him. Regardless of whether he was a saint or not, he was  He is the poor man that people avoid, or the god of plague.  After decades of ups and downs after the Great Revolution, although this country nominally adheres to Catholicism as its spiritual pillar, the wind of pleasure has long eroded the body of the entire nation, and no one except the superficial piety is anymore.  Many people don¡¯t even bother to pretend to be pious in observing the Lord¡¯s commandments.  In this glorious city, no one cares about what you believe in or what bloodline you have, only how much wealth you have. Everyone believes that as long as a person is rich enough, money can eventually pave the way to heaven.  This is Paris, the most dazzling and depraved city in Europe. She is a temple of light. She is a furnace of hell. From the princes and nobles to the common people, everyone is scrambling to have fun, as if it is the end of the world.  It's coming tomorrow.  As a new train stopped at the station, several people walked out of the first-class carriage of the train.  Although they blended in with this group of people who were blinded by desire, their clothes and their expressions clearly distinguished them from this group of busy mediocre people.  Walking in front was a middle-aged man wearing a black coat, a velvet hat on his head, and holding a cherry wood cane in his hand.  He is tall and strong, with steady steps and basically the same cadence. His cane beats a fine drum on the ground, showing his alert and steady character. His clothes are well-tailored, and an expert can tell at a glance that they are from  The handwriting of a famous artist is worth a lot of money.  But he was looking at no one, and his expression seemed to be that he had been accustomed to dominating others since he was a child, and he took other people's obedience as a matter of course, so that he did not appear arrogant.  The only thing that made his image stand out was his extremely pale complexion. His face was so frighteningly white that he was like a ghost wearing a coat. I am afraid that only a person who has not seen the sun for many years and has never worked.  Only then can I have such a bloodless complexion.  He walked forward unhurriedly, as if he had exerted some magic. The people next to him gave way to him. A middle-aged man with a respectful expression followed him, and behind him, there was a group of uniformed people.  follower,Carrying a lot of suitcases.  What kind of foreign dignitary is coming to Paris?  Some nosy people began to look sideways, whisper, and guess the identity of the visitor, but this group of people remained unmoved and walked out of the platform in a crowd.  "The air is filled with the smell of desire, I can smell it." The moment he left the platform, the butler beside this noble man whispered to the silent master, "It looks glamorous, but in fact it is like a desert.  " "Your nose is quite sharp." The noble man looked forward and replied calmly.  This group of strange visitors quickly attracted the attention of the station management staff.  As soon as they stepped off the platform and entered the wide corridor, several police officers walked towards them.  "Sir, please wait a moment. We need to check your documents." The noble man stopped, but just turned his face slightly and made a gesture to the people next to him, as if he didn't bother talking to these ordinary soldiers.  Same.  "Good afternoon, gentlemen." The butler, who had been prepared, bowed slightly to greet the police, then took out a few passports from the briefcase in his hand and handed them over.  "At the invitation of your government, I followed my master to France I just arrived in Paris today." "Government?" The policemen looked at each other, and then their attitude became more polite.  They carefully took the passport and looked at it carefully, "Uh Count of Monte Cristo?" "Yes, my master is the Count of Monte Cristo." The middle-aged man bent even deeper and pointed.  This pale middle-aged man, "and I am his steward and servant, Bertuccio." "Is there such a place?" The policemen looked at each other, and no one had heard of Monte Cristo.  But no matter what, they have confirmed that he must be a nobleman, and there is nothing wrong with his passport and supporting documents.  At this moment, a group of soldiers wearing bright and gorgeous uniforms appeared at the entrance of the corridor, and then walked forward step by step.  They were all arrogant, as if nothing in front of them could stop them.  "The Praetorian Guards are people from the palace." The policemen murmured quietly, then quickly returned the passport and documents to the count, and hurriedly prepared to leave.  They don¡¯t dare to get in the way here and block the way of these gentlemen.  To their shock, a commotion suddenly broke out among the crowd.  Soon, under the urging of the soldiers, the crowd was divided into two sides and made way for the middle passage. Then, with the masonry ground shaking slightly, a huge carriage was pulled by four white horses towards the  Coming here galloping.  These are all as tall as horses and look like they have been carefully selected. Their white manes and gems on the saddles make them shine in the sun, as if they are mythical beasts.  Same.  Similarly, the rhythm of their hoofbeats and neighing sounds is also very consistent, obviously they have undergone the most rigorous training.  Along the road opened by the soldiers, the carriage came to the corridor with a huge roar, and then slowly stopped.  In order to facilitate the use of special trains by His Majesty the Emperor and members of the royal family, these stations in Paris were specially designed from the beginning. Special passages were set up next to the cloisters leading to the platforms, where the royal carriages could go directly without any obstruction.  Coming to the boarding platform not only saves the royal family members from fatigue, but also allows them to maintain the dignity of the royal family and avoid getting too close to the common people passengers.  And now, this speeding carriage happened to be using this dedicated passage.  The wooden compartment of the carriage is carved with many fine flowers, and the door of the carriage is also engraved with the emblem of the Bonaparte royal family.  The coachman sitting in the driver's seat was wearing a red uniform and a wig on his head. The gold buttons of the uniform were also engraved with the emblem of the palace.  ¡°Obviously, this is the driver of the palace.  After seeing this scene, the tourists watching from a distance whispered. Even the most ignorant citizens knew that a distinguished guest from the kingdom was coming.  Which foreign dignitary is visiting? I haven't heard the news before?  Could something big be happening soon?  Under the watchful eyes of the police and passengers, the carriage stopped in front of the group of visitors.  After the carriage stopped, the carriage door opened, and a middle-aged man walked out of the carriage, finally standing in front of the count.  This young man¡¯s movements are light yet solemn, he is wearing an exquisite palace dress, his golden hair is combed meticulously, his dress is both fashionable and meticulous, and the smile on his face is even more like a spring breeze.?Pleasure, only someone accustomed to flattery would have such a professional smile.  "Welcome to the capital of the country, His Excellency the Count of Monte Cristo." He bowed to the middle-aged man with a smile on his face, "I am Count de Dilion, the palace secretary to His Majesty the Emperor of the country.  On behalf of His Majesty Napoleon II, I would like to welcome you to the capital of our country, and will present you with great respect. He very much hopes to receive you as soon as possible. "Although the middle-aged man is so respectful and courteous, the count's expression remains.  But he was still calm, as if the so-called palace didn't put much pressure on him.  Under people¡¯s gaze, he slowly took out a gold pocket watch from his pocket, checked the time, and then nodded to His Majesty¡¯s Palace Clerk.  "I am honored to receive your majesty's love." "Please follow me." Count Diliion did not react to Count Monte Cristo's strange behavior. He still looked at him with a smile on his face and opened the door.  Carriage made a gesture.  "We will take you to Fontainebleau later. You will rest there overnight. Your Majesty will receive you tomorrow afternoon." "I heard there will be a celebration tomorrow?" the count asked casually.  "Yes, your Majesty will personally award Marshal Fernand de Morcerf tomorrow." The secretary nodded.  Of course he couldn¡¯t see that this distant visitor suddenly tightened his grip on his pocket watch after hearing the name. He was so hard that he seemed to be able to crush the poor gadget with one hand.  Morcerf, Danglars, Villefort During many sleepless nights, these names were swirling in his mind. In the dark corner, he watched them rise step by step, watching them reach the top of glory, just  Just thinking about the names.  His blood had already begun to boil.  "Really, that's great, congratulations to him." The Earl took a deep breath, and then bowed slightly to the void in front of him.  "My friends, I'm coming," he said in a voice that could only be heard by himself.  Then, he took steps and stepped onto the carriage that would take him to Fontainebleau.  The carriage rumbles forward, and a story begins.
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