The thorn of the rose is part of its beauty, it reminds people that any beauty comes at a cost.
—William Blake
19th-century Paris has always been synonymous with art and romance, but beneath this glamorous exterior, there are also many unknown dark corners hidden away.
In a narrow and dim alley in the Latin Quarter, faint gaslight flickered, casting dappled shadows on the sewage-covered cobblestones.
At the end of the alley, a girl in a dark green dress quietly leaned against the damp wall. Her exquisite makeup, even in such an environment, still looked bright and charming. It's in a girl's nature to pursue beauty, but exuding allure in such a place might not be a wise idea.
All the nearby residents knew that countless thugs hid in these deep alleys.
For those who were barely getting by, who might not see tomorrow's sunrise, displaying gentlemanly demeanor or showing pity was never a priority.
