Having sent Jack off to find a black market merchant with a five-pound bribe, Li Qingyuan lay comfortably on the bench Jack had been sitting on, gazing up at the stars.
Jack's expression just now clearly showed he thought Li Qingyuan was a fool. Five pounds was enough for the guy to live it up in London for over a month. Now, he was getting that much just for helping contact a merchant. Clearly, in Jack's mind, Li Qingyuan had already become synonymous with "rich idiot."
But if that unlucky kid knew he'd lost the biggest opportunity of his life for a mere five pounds, he'd probably regret it until his intestines turned blue!
As for the idea that he'd lost love but gained life?
Don't be ridiculous. Without Ruth, that naive sweetheart, as a stepping stone, Jack would be nothing more than a poor nobody stuck in Third Class until the day he died. When the ship sank, he'd definitely go down with it.
After all, Third Class had no rights!
About ten minutes later, while he was counting stars, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps.
Okay, the female lead has appeared!
Li Qingyuan followed behind, watching the woman in the red, low-cut evening gown rush to the very back of the deck, her hands gripping the railing and her whole body trembling.
Of course she was trembling. She was only wearing an evening gown, with probably nothing underneath. The temperature in the North Atlantic was below ten degrees Celsius. It was a wonder she hadn't frozen to death!
Ruth had been at a banquet in the First Class dining hall, but she couldn't take it anymore.
Every day was filled with boring parties and dinners. Every day she had to wear a good girl's mask and smile at everyone. This oppressive life was about to break her.
Ruth DeWitt Bukater, the Bukater family's sole legitimate heir. Her father was an Earl, knighted by the Queen of Great Britain, and had also served as the Deputy Speaker of the House of Commons.
Back when the elder Bukater was still alive, their family was considered quite distinguished. But after the elder Bukater passed away from Tuberculosis, the Bukater family instantly declined.
There was no help for it. Both Ruth and her mother were ladies who didn't understand the ways of the world. They were the type who only knew how to spend money, not earn it, especially since they spent money at an alarming rate.
So, the legacy left by old Bookett was quickly squandered. Feeling that she was about to become a poor woman, Mrs. Ruth DeWitt Bukater, that is, Miss Ruth's mother, immediately came up with a good idea.
Although the Bookett family had become a thing of the past due to the death of the old Bookett, in the eyes of some people, the Bookett family was still a high-quality asset.
Even a hundred years later, those nouveau riche would still be happy to find themselves a famous ancestor, let alone now.
The Bookett family was an Earl, certified by the Queen, and Miss Ruth Bukater was as beautiful as a flower, and also the first heir to the title.
For those emerging wealthy people, they certainly had a lot of money, but it did not prevent them from wanting to add a noble title to their family.
So after much deliberation, Mrs. Ruth Bukater finally found a perfect match for her daughter.
Cal Hockley, from the American steel king, had a dozen steel factories in the United States, a handsome and dashing millionaire.
Millionaires in this era were truly top-tier wealthy people, not at all in the same dimension as those "million-dollar debtors" of later generations.
Cal Hockley fit the mold of the perfect bachelor: young, rich, and charming. He was the kind of man who, to some women, was irresistible.
To everyone else, Ruth and Cal were a match made in heaven, a perfect pairing of wealth and beauty.
But in Ruth's opinion, she was like a puppet, her life choices dictated by her mother.
Cal, as the president of the Hockley Group, naturally carried himself with the air of a domineering CEO. While this style might make girls swoon a century later, Ruth felt disrespected.
In Ruth's mind, Cal was an arrogant man, and the only reason he was willing to marry her was for her aristocratic title.
So, after an argument over some trivial matters, Ruth excused herself to the restroom and fled the First Class.
She didn't even know why she ran, but people sometimes have moments of impulse.
She gripped the railing at the stern, unsure of what to do.
After observing for ten minutes, Jack confirmed that the young lady had no intention of jumping into the sea.
It makes sense. As a top-tier, wealthy beauty in London, even if Ruth was dissatisfied with her current life, she wouldn't resort to suicide over such trivial matters.
In the original story, the main reason she almost fell into the sea was because of the incessant nagging of the male lead.
In reality, those who jump into the sea or off buildings are quite similar. If she were alone, she'd likely leave within fifteen minutes. Not everyone has the courage to die.
However, if there are onlookers, and these onlookers are also spouting nonsense, it gives the person contemplating the jump a strange feeling, as if they are being encouraged to go through with it.
Since Jack, that troublemaker, had been sent to the cabins to find a merchant, there was no one around to pester Ruth with nonsense. After being exposed to the cold wind for ten minutes, the rush of blood to the head of this young lady slowly subsided.
"The sea, what do you say?"
"An eternal question."
"The sky, what is your answer?"
"It's the eternal silence."
Just as Ruth was struggling with the thought of how embarrassing it would be to return like this, she heard a voice reciting poetry from behind her.
As someone with a severe case of Artistic Youth, Ruth was completely defenseless against so-called artists, as was evident from how she'd been swindled by that clumsy, wandering painter in just a few days.
Of course, although Miss Ruth possessed various naive and sweet talents, she was at least quite skilled in the appreciation of art.
So after hearing the poem, Ruth immediately forgot her purpose for running away and began to look towards the source of the voice.
"Excuse me, did you write that poem just now?" Ruth adjusted her slightly disheveled gown and walked softly behind Jack, asking in a low voice.
"May I ask who you are?" Hearing Ruth's voice, Jack silently gave himself a victory sign in his heart and slowly turned around.
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