Chapter 7

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In the admiring gaze of the Countess and the envious look of Dr. Blumstein, Zhu Jishi felt a small sense of satisfaction. He suddenly realized that if he could turn just one-tenth of the medical, chemical, and biological knowledge he possessed into wealth, earning back the silver that the Qing Dynasty had to pay in the Opium War would be a piece of cake.

However, he also knew that the process of converting knowledge into wealth would be a long one. Before the imagined wealth could be realized, he couldn't live on thin air. The most pressing and crucial issue at the moment was to find a way to survive in 19th-century Britain, and only then could he think about getting rich...

Thinking about this, Zhu Jishi's brows gradually furrowed, and his gaze lightly swept over the Countess and Dr. Blumstein.

"What's wrong, Dr. Jason? Have you encountered any trouble in Britain?" Countess Isabelle Deneuve was indeed understanding. Seeing Zhu Jishi's expression, she knew he was seeking help.

"There is a bit of trouble," Zhu Jishi's brows were already knitted together. "I encountered a thief on my way to Oxford. I lost all my luggage, passport, and degree certificates, so I can't obtain a medical license in Britain."

"Passport? Degree?" Dr. Blumstein was taken aback, pondering for a moment before replying, "If you lose your passport, you can get a new one in London. As for the degree... well, in Britain, you don't need to show a degree to get a medical license, as it's easy to forge. There are plenty of people in the London worker districts who can forge any document for a few coins. However, you do need to pass the Medical Association's exam, which is quite difficult, but I don't think it will be a problem for you."

Go to London to get a passport!? Zhu Jishi really didn't know what the passport system was like in 1842. In fact, at this time, there was no concept of illegal immigration, as even the working class of the most powerful European powers lived in dire straits. Otherwise, how could the specter of GCism have arisen in Europe? So, there were no poor foreigners trying to sneak into the dire straits of Britain. The poor who couldn't make ends meet in Europe (including British poor) all aspired to the New World.

Additionally, in 1842, a passport was more of a "pass" concept, not a travel document issued by a government to its citizens, but a document issued by local authorities to travelers. Management was very lax, with no immigration officials checking passports on the streets, and foreigners entering European port cities like London did not need a passport.

"Is that so? That's great." Zhu Jishi took another sip of red wine and looked at Countess Isabelle. "Also, I lost my wallet. Could I advance the fee for treating Mr. Churchill?"

"Fee? I'll advance you 30 pounds for Robert. I'm sure the fee he will pay you will be more than that."

Only 30 pounds? This woman is so stingy! Zhu Jishi, of course, thanked her repeatedly on the surface, but he inwardly criticized her harshly. In fact, he later found out that 30 pounds in 1842 was not a small amount; it was enough for Zhu Jishi to live comfortably in London for a year! Not knowing that he already had enough money to live for a year, Zhu Jishi continued to ask the Countess and Dr. Blumstein for help, seeking assistance with housing and employment.

"Any doctor's job will do?"

Countess Isabelle was indeed a benefactor for Zhu Jishi after his穿越. She first agreed to let him stay temporarily in her sister's residence in London, and then promised to arrange a job for him at a "charity hospital," though the weekly salary was a bit low, only 2 to 3 pounds...

...

By the time dinner ended, it was already completely dark outside. Zhu Jishi first went to check on his patient, the fat Churchill. The fat man was sound asleep and showed no signs of fever. Zhu Jishi's luck was indeed good; his first patient in this time and place was a robust man who could withstand the treatment.

After that, he left the house and went to the lawn outside, looking up at the star-studded sky. When he was studying at the Mannheim Medical School, he often lay on the lawn with Ye Yiren, gazing at the stars and talking about their life aspirations—though their ideals seemed quite different. Zhu Jishi's ideal was to work in a large hospital in a big city after obtaining his master's degree, and ideally, marry a woman who didn't need him to buy a house (like Miss Ye). Ye Yiren, on the other hand, always fantasized about time travel and rebirth.

But reality and ideals always have a gap, sometimes a very large one, just like now. Zhu Jishi had traveled through time, while Ye Yiren was probably destined to work in a large hospital in a big city for the rest of her life. Hopefully, she would find another man who loved her as much as he did.

On the first night after his穿越, of course, there was no sleepiness, and Zhu Jishi was no exception. He was now full of energy and had no intention of going to the guest room the Countess had arranged for him. He decided to wander around and enjoy the pastoral scenery of 19th-century British countryside.

The air was as cool as water, refreshing the lungs. The grass, reaching halfway up his calves, swayed gently in the night breeze. The moonlight and starlight seemed to be sprinkled on the tips of the grass, shimmering with the wind, like a surface of countless pearls, vivid and bright.

After some time, feeling a bit tired, Zhu Jishi lay down on the grass, stretching out his limbs, feeling the gentle night breeze brush over his body. His entire body seemed to merge with the grass, extending far into the distance.

Zhu Jishi was thus immersed in the tranquil and peaceful night, his chaotic thoughts calming down, temporarily forgetting his confusion and worries about the future.

Suddenly, a soft and beautiful voice sounded in his ear, "Tartar, can't sleep? Missing your homeland on the grasslands?"

Zhu Jishi sat up and turned his head. The lady of the house, Countess Isabelle, had walked up to him at some point. He was silent for a moment, then nodded, "I can't go back, I can never go back..."

The Countess didn't speak, but gently stroked Zhu Jishi's hair. She was guessing about Zhu Jishi's true identity. The unique aura he exuded made her think he must be a Tartar with a story. Perhaps a noble Tartar prince who, in his childhood, fled to Western Europe under the protection of loyal servants to escape the persecution of the evil Russian authorities (the Bonapartists certainly had no good feelings towards the Russians)...

It wasn't that the Countess was particularly gossipy; it was just that at this time, Western Europe seemed to be full of all sorts of exiles. The Countess herself could be considered one of them. The baronial title she inherited from her ex-husband only counted after the restoration of the Bonapartist dynasty, so she was also a Bonapartist exile in Britain!

Additionally, there were many exiles from the German Confederation in Britain, who formed a secret organization called the "League of the Just" (later the GCist League, all revolutionary predecessors!). And exiles from Russia were even more numerous in Britain and Western Europe. This handsome Tartar prince (women love to fantasize, especially French women) might be one of them?

"Let me accompany you to London tomorrow," the Countess suddenly smiled at Zhu Jishi.

"Accompany me to London?" Zhu Jishi was taken aback, thinking that this French woman was quite热心. This would be good; he knew nothing about 1842 London, and having a guide would prevent him from getting lost.