"How can we tell who is our friend and who is our enemy?" Joseph laughed, "My brother, you have asked a less stupid question after all. Well, Napoleon, think about it. What kind of people want change in their lives? What kind of person wants to maintain the status quo?

Without the conversation, perhaps Napoleon would have said: "Those who are brave, adventurous, and heroic want to change; those who are mediocre, without ideals and ambitions, want the status quo.

But now, Napoleon has followed Joseph's thinking, of course, will not make such a stupid answer, so he thought about it, replied: "People who are dissatisfied with the reality, think they should get more share want revolution; and people who are satisfied with the current distribution want to maintain the status quo. Well, Joseph, that's what you mean, isn't it?"

"Ah, Napoleon." Joseph laughed, "Although I have often called you stupid, the truth is that you are smart compared to most people. You have the right idea. Well, now you should think about your revolution, who are your friends to rely on, and who will be your enemies. I don't think it's a bad idea for you to write "A History of Corsica.

"What do you mean?" Napoleon asked thoughtfully.

"Writing the History of Corsica would give you access to the whole of Corsican society - from the top to the bottom. It will allow you to do a comprehensive survey of Corsica so that you can have a comprehensive understanding of Corsica. Well, my brother, you must know that without a full investigation, there is no accurate judgment and no voice."

Napoleon thought about it and nodded: "Joseph, you have a point. I'll start with that.

"Well, I tell you what, you ．．．．．．" Joseph was about to tell Napoleon some of his later life ideas about how to conduct social surveys when he heard a knock at the door outside.

"Who is it? Joseph asked as he walked toward the door.

"It's me, Armand." The voice of Amand came from outside.

Joseph opened the door and saw Amand standing outside with two dark circles under his eyes, looking like he was sleep-deprived or drunk on some kind of "Herb's wine", and carrying a bag in his hand.

"Amand? Come in and sit down." Joseph brought Armand in and dragged a chair to him.

"I hope you don't mind. I hope you don't mind." Joseph said while putting away all the sketch paper on the table.

"Oh, it's okay. I'm messier there." Amand laughed, "Well, do you have any wine here? I've come all this way, and I'm so thirsty I'm smoking."

"No, I don't." Joseph smiled and shook his head, "My friend, you know I don't drink much. Well, I only have plain water here. Is that okay?"

"Damn! Forget it, as long as it's liquid! I knew I couldn't count on that with you." Armand said.

"Ah, Napoleon, go and get that kettle for me." Joseph turned to Napoleon.

And Napoleon went over to get the kettle.

"Is this your brother?" asked Armand. Amand asked.

"Yes, this is my stupid brother. Joseph asked casually.

"I think if he had worn ancient clothes, he would have been a living Pippin, or even Alexander the Great. You may be too hard on your brother," Amand said.

After hearing this comment, Joseph couldn't help but stare at Amand, scanning him from top to bottom, until he couldn't help but ask, "Is there anything dirty on my face?

"No," Joseph replied. Joseph replied, "I was just seeing if you hadn't come out of your 'Herb's pearly whites' yet.

"Oh, you think I'm talking nonsense?" Amon immediately replied in an aria-like tone, "O vulgar man, which of the world's greatest prophets, the darlings of the god Apollo, did not tell the truth about the world in that mysterious ecstasy? Do you think that I am talking nonsense because I have never seen your brother before? O foolish mortal, you do not know that this is divine intuition at work. It was in this divine ecstasy that I saw at once the light in your brother's eyes, the fire in his heart. At that instant, I even remembered the statue of Alexander the Great! Believe me, my friend, your brother will be amazing in the future. Really!"

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Napoleon was carrying a kettle at this time and was pleased to hear Amand's evaluation of himself. As he came to pour the water, he couldn't help but look at Joseph, his face almost smiling.

"The first time I saw him, I said, "Well, Princess Cassandra, you have a point. Joseph also replied in the language of the aria, "But your Highness, when you came to my house, you did not foresee that my brother was here, so you had to tell him the prophecy, just like the witch told Macbeth the prophecy?

Cassandra was the legendary princess of Zhōngtèroy, the priestess of Apollo, the god of prophecy. Because she refused Apollo's advances, Apollo cursed her with the ability to see the future clearly, but to speak prophecies that no one would ever believe.

"Oh, you still don't believe it." Ah, you still don't believe it," Amand said, "but you'll just have to wait and see. As for my coming here, well, I certainly didn't foresee running into your brother here. Well, Joseph, remember that play we talked about last time? Spartacus?"

"Yes, you finished it?" Joseph looked at Armand in amazement, "That's not like you, Armand. It's not your style, you know, you're supposed to have no more than twenty words a day."

"Yeah, you're right. But that's just the general situation." But this time it's different. There's a mysterious force that drives me to write without stopping. The ancient Greeks believed that tragedy writers did not create their works, but that the gods wrote through their hands. When I was writing Spartacus, I had the feeling that the gods were holding my hand and making me write so much that I couldn't stop. Joseph, I didn't create it, but the muse created it through me, and I was just the one who was driven to record it. So, although this play is faster than anything I've ever written before, the quality overwhelms the previous ones. Compared to this, it's like the three gray witches in Greek mythology, who share one eye and are incredibly ugly. The same as Helen. Do you want to take a look?"

"Well, don't be too busy praising yourself." Joseph said, "You're acting like a talisman. Bring me the script and show it to me.

"Here you are!" Amand handed the bag to Joseph.

Joseph took the bag, opened it, and inside was a stack of stapled scripts.

"You play with it, I'll read it first," Joseph said to Amand as he opened the book.

"Do what you want," Amand said. Amand said.

Napoleon came over and looked at it with Joseph.

Armon leaned his back on the back of the chair and looked around boredly. Soon he noticed Louis, who was standing on the side and didn't talk much, so he became interested.

The sun shone through the window and shone on Joseph's desk. As time went on, the sunlight slowly crawled on the table like a snail. By the time Joseph had read the whole play, the sunlight had crept from one end of the desk to the other.

"How is it?" Seeing that Joseph had put down the manuscript, Amand asked. Although he had been teasing Louis with a word or two, trying hard to put those things harmful to the physical and mental health of young people into Louis' head he had been paying attention to the actions of Joseph and Napoleon.

Joseph did not say anything, after a while before sighing, turned to Napoleon and said: "Napoleon, I told you before, even if a person has the talent, but also has to work hard, to achieve something. Look at this example in front of you. This bastard called Amand is uncompromising, huāhuāgōngzǐ, a typical example of a wasted life. You see his script is very good, is not it?" That is because you have not seen his previous writing those crap things, and this one compared, is completely crap ah! If this bastard is more serious, more hard work, I'm afraid it can catch up with Gao Naiyi, even to touch the heels of Aeschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles. But this bastard spent most of his time drinking and fooling around! ．．．．．． But when it comes to drinking, well, Amand, this script of yours makes you want to have a drink after reading it. The fact is, it's also time for dinner, so why don't you treat us to a drink?

This turn of events was a bit sharp and even made Ah Meng a bit unresponsive. But Armand quickly figured out that Joseph had a very high opinion of his play.

"Okay, my treat." We'll talk over drinks. I know a place that makes a good Poitou brandy ．．．．．．"

The couple left the house, hailed a taxi, and arrived at the bistro called "May Lilac" in no time. The first time he entered, he greeted the owner and the owner's wife, whose waistline was almost twice as big as her husband's, and said, "Get us a quiet seat and a dozen brandy!

"Okay, Armand, it's your usual spot, overlooking the Seine." The boss's wife greeted them loudly. The boss himself brought them over.

They sat down at the table, and Amand said to the owner, "Fili, make something to drink, I'm not interested in reading your thousand-year-old menu.

The boss responded and left. In a short time, all kinds of dishes and brandy were served.

"Napoleon, you can drink a little, but not more than one. Louis, you can't drink it." Joseph turned to his brothers as he poured himself a full glass of wine.

"It's unfortunate to have a brother," said Amand. Amand said.

"Amand, there's still a problem with your script, and it's a big

one," Joseph added.

"What's the problem?" Armand asked urgently.

"It's so sharp that if we don't change it, it will be banned. But if it's changed, it won't have the same power to move people," Joseph replied. Joseph replied.