Chapter 35 33

【information】 Mi Rui and I went to an internet café a few miles from our house.We each check email on our old computers, next to a buzzing refrigerator full of drinks.The keyboard was dirty and sticky. I have a new message in my inbox, but I don't recognize the sender.I scrolled down to the bottom of the message: Royal Geographical Society Archives: Gregory C.Bailey.I read the content again and called Mi Rui over.She leans towards my screen.What does it mean? They found the telegram. I explained to her that, in 1924, the Everest Committee had kept cables from all members of the expedition.I applied to them in London, but it took weeks for the archives guys to get the telegrams out and scan them.I clicked to see pictures of old telegrams. There were yellow and pink slips of paper with cipher-like purple letters on them. The contents of the telegrams were either copied or copied, and marked with pencil or seal.I stopped on one of the telegrams:

□□□ April 2, 2004 Yin Mozhen.Soames︱Anderson HOTTINGUER ET CIE Paris, 38 Rue Provence Please register by telegram POSTE RESTANTE Berlin Post Office Return your ashley in august england Mi Rui shook her head in disbelief. They have connections.But what does this mean? Wait a moment I searched Hottinguer et Cie online and found that Hottinguer is a private bank in Paris, established in France in 1786.Then I connected to an online encyclopedia and looked at the poste restante entry: □□□ Poste Restance (French for mail waiting) is a service whereby the post office holds letters until the recipient picks them up.When people go to a certain place and it is unnecessary or impossible to send the letter directly to the residence at that time, this method is usually used to preserve the letter.

Mi Rui looked at me. So she's not in Paris? I guess so.It's just that her bank is in Paris.Looks like she's in Berlin But if she wasn't in Paris, how would she get the telegram like that? The telegram must have been forwarded through her bank.A lot of people use it this way when they travel, I've read in the archives.They would telegraph their banks to let them know where they lived. I don't know.This message didn't tell you anything some.I just have to think about it. We watched the telegram on the screen.I imagine Ashley sending this message in 1924 from a mountain town in India or from the more distant Tibetan plateau.I imagined Emmaine in Berlin that same year, wondering why she had gone there, and why Ashley had written her a telegram.I turned to look at Mi Rui.

He is on the expedition.He was on the other side of the world and wanted to send her a letter. Mi Rui shook her head.I tap her shoulder lightly. listen to me.He didn't have her address, but he knew where her bank was, and I guess he knew she was in Berlin, so he wrote a waiting post to the Berlin Post Office and sent her this telegram asking her to pick it up. I print out the document.Mi Rui went to the counter to pay. let's go out.she says. We went outside the internet cafe and stood at the crossroads in a desolate village. No cars passed by and most of the shops were closed.Mi Rui took out the tobacco from the pouch, and lightly rolled the tobacco into a line on a piece of rolling paper.She looks at me.

Do you want to go to Berlin? I think I must go. But in this telegram, Mi Rui emphasized that it has nothing to do with your grandmother's blood relationship.Chasing this lead will not increase your chances of getting an inheritance.You don't know how long she's been in Berlin Mi Rui stuffed the cigarettes into her pocket. Or if she's been there.She added: "Maybe he's just guessing.Maybe she never got the telegram at all. We walked past a bakery with the rusty door drawn shut.A gust of wind blew across the street, causing Mi Rui to zip her coat up to her neck. You don't even have an address.

right. But you still have to go. I know it looks crazy.But every time I tried to be logical, to study records and archives, I was unsuccessful.And whenever I track something down directly, like going to Leksand, or coming here with you, I find something useful.It's like Pitcherd told me the only thing that works since there's no official record Mi Rui shook her head and walked past our car. it works?She repeats my words.You know something.But you didn't find anything that would give you an inheritance.Do you feel like you're in a better place now than you were before this all started?You're always on edge, worrying about things you can't control and things that have happened.You've spent all your savings on this frantic search, and now you're heading to Berlin.Where the hell are you going to find what?

I have no idea.the post office. Mi Rui raised one hand to the air. I really don't know you.I don't know what you are looking for.You say you don't care about money, but you are willing to pursue this story anywhere.Why not Amsterdam, why not Brussels or Geneva?You're just guessing, and you can't go on like this forever.How much money do you have left? Enough to get me there. what's next?What do you think you'll find there?One hundred million Swiss francs?Even you know it won't.You thought you'd find the answer in the end There must be some kind of ending.

No.Even if Mi Rui stopped in frustration and shook her head.She looked down at the empty street. Even if there is an end to all this, it may not be found.Maybe for some reason the ending shouldn't be found.And even if you're lucky enough to find the ending, it might not be what you expected. I have been very lucky.I found the letter.I found you too. And I hope you don't go to Berlin.Stay here and we can go back to Paris next week. I stood in the street, not knowing what to say.Mi Rui was standing in front of the window of a small sewing supply store, with her back turned to me, looking at bundles of black and cream sash in the store.

Just give me a month.I said: Then it will all be over. She walks away shaking her head.I follow. It's not because of how much I care about you.She said: You are nothing.You don't know what's going on around you, or what that means.It annoys me that whenever something good happens to you, you just get on a train and go to another place, expecting another good thing to happen to you. I didn't expect that. You have, she continued: but this is not life.Here's the story.It's a fairy tale.Forget about lawyers and the money.They will give you nothing.Forget about the dead men and their stories too, maybe that's not true at all.What about our story?What are the chances that you just picked that bar in Paris and I'm sitting next to you, and we just run into each other?Isn't that enough?Or will you only care in ten or a hundred years, when I'm gone and there's nothing you can do?

I don't know what you think I tried to touch her shoulder, but she took another step forward. I didn't think that way, she retorted.But even if I really thought that, you would still go to Berlin. I will return.I'll be right back here as soon as it's over. Mi Rui stopped and turned to look at me.Tears-wet mascara left two black streaks across her face.She wiped her face with her sleeve, then raised her chin. No.She said: I'm sure you won't.