"Hey!"
A down-and-out Boy wearing a painter's cap chased after her in a hurry, clutching an old sketchbook in his right hand and a wrinkled, half-burnt cigarette in his left.
The girl turned around with her hands behind her back. She was not very tall, with a plump figure and long, satin-soft hair that curled slightly at her waist.
"I'm not trying to flatter you, girl. But... you're stunningly beautiful." The Boy looked into the young girl's eyes; when she smiled faintly, it was like a flower blooming in winter—making one feel both sweet and heartbroken.
The Boy guessed that anyone (regardless of gender) being looked at by the girl with such a silent, faint smile would absolutely not refuse her requests—no matter how excessive they might be, he would be willing to try for her. That childlike innocence and naturalness flowed with her slightly drooping gaze and was suddenly magnified by that striking tear mole.
Divinity and humanity intertwined in her eyes; indifference and sweetness conflicted yet merged into one. The Boy even saw a hint of compassion in them, like the sigh of a holy spirit.
As he was lost in thought, the young girl's voice, as thick as honey, rang out: "Sorry, if you're here to argue or back out of the bet just now, I won't agree."
"Of course I won't!" The young man pushed the brim of his hat and adjusted his cuffs and leather shoes with dissatisfaction. Regrettably, he really couldn't make the yellow mud on the shoes disappear simply by stomping his feet.
The Boy was a bit embarrassed, but the young girl didn't mind. She blinked and laughed: "Great outfit, sir. I don't like those 'gentlemen' who wrap bandages around their waists to hide their bellies."
This made the Boy laugh.
"I don't like them either, ha! I guess you must be an aristocratic lady who snuck out, right?" He rubbed his trouser seams with his left hand, finally regaining his easygoing and natural manner: "You won my ship ticket! If you hadn't intervened, I should have been the one winning that ticket with my nose in the air, along with my few banknotes."
"Being a good loser is a fine quality, which you surely possess." The young girl covered her mouth and chuckled: "So you chased me not for that ticket that'should' belong to you, right?"
"Of course not, I just wanted to meet the most beautiful woman of this era." The Boy raised his sketchbook proudly.
"Oh... do you want to woo me?"
"I'm not arrogant enough to think I could court an aristocratic lady, besides, how old are you?"
The young girl looked him over strangely for a few seconds: "Don't sell yourself short, sir."
The Boy scratched his face, confused.
"Hmm... you're a painter, right?" The girl started another topic: "I see you're carrying a sketchbook."
"Oh... yes! That's right! I'm a wandering painter, you know, wandering and all..." The Boy gestured a bit, then suddenly thought of something and laughed heartily: "Haha! I'm going to have business! I lost the ticket, but I've welcomed the banknotes!"
"Indeed." The girl turned her skirt, revealing the tips of her pale white shoes: "I have a 'good friend' who wants to learn some fun little tricks..."
The Boy waved his hand in disagreement: "This isn't just 'little tricks,' you have to learn to respect art."
"Fine, art, renaissance, high society." Mori Tsukisa was noncommittal: "As for the price, I think she will make you satisfied."
"That's history now, you need to know about the people of today; you won't learn anything interesting by drinking tea and chatting every day with those'sisters' wearing leg-of-mutton sleeves and large tasselled shawls. You need to see more of the World; those interesting lives cannot be obtained within corsets and stays."
Corsets? Stays?
The young girl looked down in confusion at her toes, which she couldn't see.
The girl's dazed look amused the Boy again: "Now I can say for sure, I will definitely not pursue you. Your age is much younger than I imagined, Miss, and... stop looking! I'm not doubting you, heavens, you're not suited for those things at all. Bad girls don't wear them, sneaking out to gamble, right?"
The girl pursed her lips and subtly beckoned the Boy with her finger—after he approached, she clenched her small fist and gave his stomach a hard punch!
Thump!
His hat fell to the ground, just in time to be splashed with mud by a passing wheel.
"I've wanted to do that for a while." The young girl clapped her hands and neatly pushed away the Boy, who had a pained expression: "Be careful how you speak to a lady. Next time, I'll use twenty percent of my strength."
Twenty percent?
The Boy winced and clutched his stomach, taking two steps back: "You're definitely not an aristocratic lady who snuck out, are you? Did you knock out the servants and walk out in broad daylight?"
The young girl's raised fist was her only response.
"Alright, alright... I... let's talk about 'business'. Are you sure you want to hire me?" The Boy picked up his hat, dusted it off casually, and put it back on his head without minding the dirt: "I still want to see that ship of the century."
"The one hiring you is my friend." The young girl turned and led the Boy forward: "An aristocratic lady, an aristocratic lady who doesn't like aristocrats. A Fire-colored horse wanting to escape and see the World in the forest, a mermaid who can swim and chase waves once she enters the sea."
"Sounds good." The Boy shrugged: "I don't like aristocrats much, but I like free-spirited ladies."
"You just simply like pretty girls, sir." The young girl glanced back at him: "Her mother is very harsh and rude, but don't worry, the one in control of the gold coins and finances is that lady."
This surprised the Boy: "There are young ladies who can control their own wealth nowadays?"
One must know that in this era, the fate of a young lady was to try her best to persuade and please her father and mother, so that she could take a larger dowry from home when she married—then, after marrying, to persuade and please her husband, so that he might show mercy and give her a small portion of her dowry to manage freely.
This was already the happiest template: many girls who found themselves simply being wealth-delivery children after marriage made up the majority of this era.
'Marry one with a large dowry' had always been a saying among gentlemen with some ambition and decent family backgrounds.
Unless a girl's father was some high-ranking official, most girls could not escape such a fate—the father would divide the property and wait for his daughters to marry, giving each a share. After that, their life or death was none of his business: Of course, I've given the dowry and taken the money, so shouldn't you be a bit better to my daughter? At least, at least don't bring other women home.
This was also why the Boy was surprised.
"Because I helped them pay off their debts." The young girl walked forward without looking back, her voice carrying back to the Boy's ears: "I have a lot of money, and my friend badly needs money to repay the debts her father left behind. A noble title won't help her."
The Boy whistled: "Wealthy girl, how did you get control of your own wealth?"
The young girl suddenly turned back.
"By robbing people."
Boy:... "I really didn't see that you had a talent for drama..."
The girl gave an ambiguous chuckle: "Talk about the price with Miss DeWitt Bukater yourself. Look, they are staying there for now."
Following the girl's finger, a three-story old-fashioned brick house appeared in the Boy's line of sight.
It's... okay?
"I gave her quite a lot of money, but who knew she'd like living in a place like this." The girl nodded goodbye to the Boy: "Just go in yourself, I've only just come from her place—by the way, tell her I sent you, and tell her to remember to keep our agreement."
"I'm in a hurry, I still have to take Sea Urchin treasure hunting."
Treasure hunting...?
"I always have a feeling like I've seen you before..." The Boy raised his eyebrows and extended his left hand: "I'm Jack, Jack Dawson."
"Mori Tsukisa."
The young girl tapped Jack's finger with her own, stepped back into the haze, and quickly disappeared into the crowded street.
This was the last time Jack Dawson and Rose DeWitt Bukater saw her.
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