The Shadow of Great Britain

143: Chapter 101: The Multifaceted Nature of Politics (Part 2) 143: Chapter 101: The Multifaceted Nature of Politics (Part 2) The rain outside the window continued to fall slowly, the dense droplets nearly forming a watery curtain.

Although it looked transparent, it concealed Arthur and Disraeli within the coffee shop.

Perhaps the black tea improved Disraeli’s foul mood, or perhaps he had suppressed his feelings for too long.

In the Greenwich District, an area not belonging to Disraeli’s constituency, in this coffee shop unaware of his identity, he finally poured out his grievances unrestrainedly and step by step, walked into the trap Arthur had intricately woven for him.

In Arthur’s view, the first priority of domestic intelligence work was to protect the nation’s sensitive information.

To accomplish this task, Arthur, as a humble public instrument of society, had to reluctantly start by understanding sensitive information first.

A young member of parliament who had caught the attention of the Rothschilds, a talented writer of the new generation—his personal information, obviously, was also included in this category.

Arthur held his teacup with both hands, feeling the warmth transmitted through the porcelain surface, he asked, “I didn’t expect you to be a Jew who converted to the National Church, this situation is indeed somewhat rare.”

Disraeli was clearly troubled by his identity: “If I were an Englishman, I probably wouldn’t be subjected to such fierce criticism.

Even though my father sent me to a National Church priest from a young age to convert and study the church’s rituals, looking back, converting only really helped me to qualify as a normal parliamentary candidate, but those prejudices deep in people’s hearts cannot be changed so easily.

Mr.

Hastings, had you not told me you lacked the right to vote, I wouldn’t have so casually revealed my lineage.

I am Jewish, but I am also British, and beyond that, I am a normal, devout Christian.

Two-thirds of my composition is very British, yet they always like to focus on the other third.”

Arthur laughed, “That’s not a big deal, I am an Englishman, but I am also a spiritual person of the East, and beyond that, I am an abnormal, heretical Catholic.

But the fact that I have reached my current position shows that those people actually don’t care what you’re made of, what’s important is that you can be of use to them.”

“A person of the East?” Disraeli’s eyes sparkled, “Are you talking about Jerusalem, the Holy Land established by King Solomon?”

The Red Devil, who had been dozing off by the window, suddenly perked up at these words.

He snorted coldly, thinking he looked cool as he pushed up his glasses: “When it comes to the research of King Solomon, I am the grandfather of your grandfather’s level.”

Arthur glanced at Agares and promptly silenced him, then turned to speak to Disraeli.

“The East includes Jerusalem, of course, but also regions even further east.

As a writer, you should understand that mysterious things always possess a different kind of allure.”

“Further east?”

Disraeli thought for a moment: “You must be talking about India and China?

Indeed, those are ancient and mysterious regions.

A few years ago when I traveled to Germany with my father, I heard that Mr.

Goethe of the Duchy of Weimar was also enchanted with China.

He spent his days in the library, searching for Chinese books translated into English or French.”

I once encountered him in the library.

He was indeed a kind person.

I was just an unremarkable young man, but he did not look down on me.

He enthusiastically introduced me to a Chinese epic legend he was reading, the name of that legendary tale seemed to be called…

called…

something about an orphan…”

Arthur’s mind clicked, and he blinked twice, “Mr.

Disraeli, as far as I know, there are quite a few Chinese novels about orphans.

Most of them are kept in a big library called Starting Point.”

“Really?” Disraeli was taken aback, “I’ve only heard that where the Chinese Emperor lives is called the Forbidden City, that we drink Chinese tea largely exported from Guangzhou and Quanzhou, but regarding a big library called Starting Point, I’ve never heard of it.

Is that some sort of architectural wonder like the Parthenon in Greece?”

Arthur vaguely replied, “Sort of, I guess.

To gather that many orphans is indeed a miracle.”

Disraeli murmured, “Maybe one day my works will be collected there too, after all, I do quite like writing about orphans.”

Arthur nearly choked on his tea, and coughed repeatedly, “What did you say?”

Disraeli quickly waved his hand, “Nothing, nothing, just talking to myself.”

Then, falling back into deep thought, Disraeli suddenly brightened up and slapped the table, “I’ve remembered!

Mr.

Goethe was reading ‘The Orphan of Zhao’.

That ‘Zhao’ character is really difficult to pronounce, no wonder I have such a deep memory of it.

Mr.

Goethe also told me that he planned to use it as a basis to create a play.

Several years have passed, I don’t know if he has finished it.”

Arthur asked, “It sounds like you have traveled to many areas of Europe?”

Upon hearing this, Disraeli opened up like a floodgate, “Not to hide from you, I’ve just come back from the Two Sicilies; I’d also visited Switzerland before that.

As you know, I was a bit unsettled because of the whole ‘Vivian Grey’ matter and needed to clear my head.

I had actually planned to continue my journey around the Balkan Peninsula, visit Ottoman Turkey, and travel to the Near East regions of Palestine and Egypt.

But then I suddenly remembered that there might be an election back home, so I thought I’d come back and try my luck.

If I don’t get elected this time, at least I’d have planned out more travels.”

Arthur nodded slightly, “It’s clear to see that you are a man with strong purpose and planning in your actions.

If one day you become Prime Minister, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The Red Devil on the side could not help but cover his mouth with a mischievous smile, “Oh!

Arthur, you really are an incorrigible little scoundrel.

Flaunting oneself is the nature of young people, especially when they are insignificant and idle.

Praising him like this is going to make him spill his guts to you willingly.”

However, Arthur acted as if he hadn’t heard Agares’s words, while the Disraeli sitting opposite him had already excitedly reddened his face.

Being Prime Minister or something, he had actually imagined it in his heart, but even though he had fantasized about it countless times, to hear someone else say it still gave him immense pleasure.

Disraeli tried his best to control his emotions, but his slowly rising lips and gradually twitching facial expressions still betrayed him.

“Although I am reluctant to criticize anyone, but, Mr.

Hasting, you might have misjudged this time.

Compared to those truly great men and statesmen like Plato, Aristotle, Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare, or Napoleon Bonaparte, I still have much to learn and improve.”

Agares heard this and Red Devil couldn’t help but be taken aback for a moment; then he pushed his glasses up and nodded earnestly.

“I hadn’t expected it, I still underestimated this young man’s outrageous ambition.

Despite having suffered a heavy setback not long ago, he still compares himself to these stars in human history.”

Arthur nodded slightly as he leaned back in his chair and said with interest, “Although I don’t have a vote, would you be willing to share your political views with me?

I am truly interested in you.”

Disraeli, apparently overwhelmed by his own fervor, readily agreed.

“Of course!

I am delighted you’re willing to take the time to hear me out.

To be honest, I never deign to explain myself to most people.

But Mr.

Hasting, you are different.

Because I feel that you are like me; I am a proud man, and my efforts stem from my pride.

Yes!

It is pride that drives me, not ideals!

I should strive for excellence not because I pursue a certain goal, but because I am inherently destined for it.”

Even though I am just a humble nobody at the moment, I should not remain mediocre forever.

Mr.

Hasting, you must feel the same way, right?”

Arthur did not reject the identity Disraeli projected onto him.

He smiled and nodded slightly, “Of course, one day we both will become great figures of Great Britain, even though you are a Jew, and I am a man of the Eastern spirit.

But what does that matter?

Nobody likes being stuck in a mire all their life.”

Disraeli nodded excitedly, “If I ever become Prime Minister, the first thing I will do is eliminate the public hostility towards those of different ethnicities and beliefs; Englishmen, Scots, Welsh, Irish, Jews—we are all fundamentally Britons.

Christians, Catholics, Jews, we are all God’s chosen people.”

I know this may be difficult, but just as Bacon said: being lucky can cause envy, but overcoming misfortune is truly admirable.

I want everyone to admire me.

I want to be like Lord Byron, who, despite being haunted by misfortune and facing the fiercest foes, always achieved the ultimate victory in the end.”

Are you a fan of Lord Byron?

Even though I don’t agree with some of his views, his life and books have truly given me much strength.

He spent his fortune supporting the Greek independence movement and eventually died nobly for Greece, just like the ‘Byronic heroes’ in his writings.”

My God!

Who would have thought that this man, once expelled from Great Britain in life, could prompt Greece to hold the most solemn national funeral rites for him in death?

This name that was taboo in Britain just a decade ago has now become one of the most dazzling stars in Britain’s history!”

Disraeli talked on and on about his ideals and aspirations, yet the rain outside the window showed no signs of lessening.

The rain fell densely as the twilight blurred.

In the tranquil setting, Arthur watched Disraeli’s impassioned expression and merely smiled, without responding.

After who knows how long, Disraeli finally poured out all his feelings.

He took a satisfied deep breath, picked up his coat from the back of his chair, and stood up.

He smiled at Arthur as they conversed, their address to each other already familiar.

He said intimately, “Arthur, let’s go back together.

Your place isn’t far from mine, after all.

The ambiance of this coffee shop is quite nice, if we get the chance, let’s meet here again.”

Arthur stretched as well, “No problem, go hail a cab.

I’ll go settle up with the proprietor.”

Disraeli winked at Arthur and pointed to him, “Alright, I’ll wait for you outside.”

Arthur watched him leave the coffee shop, then licked his lips and slowly pulled out a parchment bag from the bag beside him.

The cover of the bag was simply inscribed with a few lines of text.

“London Area Temporary Measurement and Survey Bureau: File No.

001”

“Entered by: Code Name A”

“Subject of Investigation: Benjamin Disraeli”

Arthur looked at the parchment bag for a while, finally he took a pen out from his chest pocket and casually scribbled a few lines on it.

—— Importance of individual: Attention level

—— Level of ideological danger: Very safe

—— Arrangements for follow-up investigation: Continue monitoring