Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 124 Lionel's Shura Field
On the first Saturday night of June 1879, the Champs-Élysées, the Hôtel de Rohan, was the focal point of Parisian brilliance.

When Lionel Sorel, arm in arm with Sophie Deneuve, stepped into the ball, they instantly captured the attention of most of the guests.

Lionel was tall and handsome; Sophie was even more radiant—her simple, well-fitting light gold taffeta evening gown made her skin look like snow; the diamond necklace on her slender neck shimmered like endless starlight under the crystal chandelier.

Whispers spread like ripples:
Who is that charming lady?

"The diamond around her neck... Holy Mother!"

"Is that Mr. Sorel next to her? That Lionel Sorel?"

Albert de Rohan greeted them like a proud peacock, his face beaming with excitement: "You guys tonight were simply... simply lit up the entire ball!"

He gave Sophie a dramatic kiss on the hand.

Just then, Maupassant appeared out of nowhere, swirling a glass of red wine in his hand: "Léon! No wonder you wouldn't go out with us for a fling... Good heavens, and... what a beautiful and charming lady!"

If he hadn't been quick-witted and changed his words on the spot, Lionel would have almost strangled him.

At that moment, Lionel keenly sensed a complex gaze upon him.

He looked up and saw Mrs. Rothschild, arm in arm with a composed middle-aged gentleman, walking towards them through the crowd.

Mrs. Rothschild wore a deep purple velvet gown tonight, exuding elegance and grace, with an emerald necklace around her neck that shone with a calm and understated radiance.

"Good evening, Mr. Sorel." Mrs. Rothschild's voice was still pleasant, but there was a hint of indescribable emotion in it.

Her gaze lingered briefly on Sophie: "Mr. Sorel, won't you introduce this young lady?"

“Sophie, Sophie Deneuve; Sophie, this is Mrs. Rothschild, and her husband.” Lionel’s voice was perfectly normal.

Sophie gave an elegant bow, her posture poised and graceful: "Good evening, Madam, Sir. It's an honor to meet you both."

Mrs. Rothschild smiled knowingly. "Miss Deneuve, you were truly...impressive" tonight.

She turned to Lionel, a hint of subtle teasing in her voice: "Not only are you a gifted writer, but you also have such a discerning eye for choosing dance partners. It seems that the 'conscience of the Sorbonne' not only has insight into human nature, but also a deep understanding of the true meaning of beauty."

Sophie's smile remained impeccable, and her response was equally polite: "You flatter me, Madam. It was Leon who gave me the opportunity to experience such a wonderful evening."

Just as Lionel felt a chill run down his spine, a girl of only seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed in a light pink gauze dress, timidly approached Lionel, her cheeks flushed with nervousness and excitement: "Good evening, Mr. Sorel... I am Emily de Rohan, and Albert is my brother."

I am a loyal reader of yours and I really enjoy "Letter from an Unknown Woman"!

Mrs. Rothschild laughed: "It seems Mr. Sorel has quite a few fans... Have a good time."

With that, she took Mr. Rothschild's arm and left.

Lionel breathed a sigh of relief, looked at the girl, and said gently, "Good evening, Emily, thank you for your kind words."

Emily blushed even more. She glanced quickly at Sophie, but bravely continued, "I... I've also tried writing some stories, but I always feel they're too childish."

"I wonder... I wonder if I will ever have the honor of inviting you... and this young lady, to stay at our castle in the Loire Valley for a few days, and perhaps you could offer me some guidance on writing techniques?"

Lionel felt Sophie tighten her grip on his arm and quickly declined politely, saying, "It's good that Miss Emily is interested in literature... but there's no need to go to so much trouble. You can have Albert bring me the manuscript..."

Emily's face fell. Just as she was about to say something, part of the ball lights dimmed, and she had to swallow back the words she was about to say. Like a startled fawn, she returned to her mother's side with her brother.

Above the dance floor, the host of today's ball, the dignified Count Rohan, descended the marble double spiral staircase with steady steps and arrived at the conductor's podium in the center of the hall.

He cleared his throat, and the music and conversation gradually subsided.

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends," Count Rohan's voice was loud and steady, "thank you all for your presence tonight, which has added to the splendor of my humble abode."

While you enjoy the wine and music, please allow me a moment to announce something I believe is crucial to the future of France.

I, Louis-Philippe de Rohan, and my family—will wholeheartedly support Minister Jules Ferry's upcoming reforms to public education, especially the universalization of free public primary education!

A murmur of discussion arose in the hall.

Count Rohan raised his voice: "We firmly believe that every French child, whether born poor or rich, whether in the city or the countryside, whether a boy or a girl, has the right to education!"
Only in this way can France cultivate knowledgeable and moral citizens and achieve liberty, equality, and fraternity! Restricting the threshold of education is setting limits for France's future!

We support Minister Ferry and this great cause!

Applause broke out immediately, starting sparsely but quickly becoming enthusiastic.

Count Rohan raised his hand to signal for quiet, then his gaze suddenly turned to Lionel in the crowd: "Here, I especially want to thank a young man. His work has touched the hearts of countless people in a unique way."

Mr. Lionel Sorel, as someone who graduated from a public school in the Alps and came to Paris to study, would you be willing to share your views on this issue with us?

Although this name came somewhat unexpectedly, Lionel wasn't too surprised—Albert had hinted at it several times since the day he invited him, and the Count's words today made him understand the reason.

Lionel took a deep breath, took a few steps forward, and stood at the front of the crowd. His voice was clear and calm, yet loud enough for everyone to hear:

"Thank you for your praise, Your Excellency. Education should never be the privilege of a few, but a flame that illuminates every life."

Knowledge can teach us tolerance, kindness, and understanding of others. When children read historical stories, distant landscapes, and scientific mysteries in their textbooks, the world in their hearts expands.

Free primary education is not just about teaching children to read and do arithmetic; it's about sowing the seeds of reason and kindness. It cannot immediately eliminate injustice, but it can ensure that the next generation receives France's most precious gift—a broader and warmer heart.

Lionel's speech, devoid of grand slogans, touched many with its unique humanistic perspective.

After a brief silence, applause that was even more enthusiastic and sincere than before resounded throughout the hall.

Then the music started again. Lionel extended his hand to Sophie, and the two glided onto the dance floor.

The polka had a brisk rhythm, and while Lionel's dance moves weren't exactly graceful, her steps were steady; Sophie followed along lightly, like a golden cloud.

……

The ball is over.

Lionel took Sophie's arm and led her toward the rented carriage. Just as they were about to get in, he suddenly lowered his voice and whispered in Sophie's ear, "Quickly check if the diamond necklace is still there?"

Sophie was startled at first, then hurriedly touched her neck before patting her chest in relief and gently punching him: "You scared me to death—it's perfectly fine! You should return it to Mrs. Rothschild tomorrow!"

Lionel was taken aback: "How did you know...?"

Sophie ignored him and boarded the carriage herself, leaving Lionel to follow.

The wheels rolled rhythmically across the cobblestones of the Champs-Élysées. The carriage was dimly lit, with only the occasional gas lamp illuminating the silhouettes of the two figures.

Sophie leaned on Lionel's shoulder, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke softly, "That's a woman's intuition. That Mrs. Rothschild... and the little princess of the Rohan family..."

Our Mr. Lionel is now a darling of Parisian high society.

Lionel hurriedly spoke up: "Sophie, I..."

He didn't finish his sentence. Sophie suddenly looked up, found his lips precisely in the dim light, and silenced all his unspoken explanations with a gentle yet firm kiss.

For a long time, the lips are divided.

Her fingers gently brushed across Lionel's cheek, her voice low yet clear: "No need to explain, Lionel. I know who you are."

She leaned back on his shoulder and stopped talking.

The carriage drove into the depths of the night. Lionel looked out the window at the glittering Paris and felt that the city had never been as gentle as it was tonight.

(End of this chapter)