Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 14 Sincerity is the ultimate weapon!

Without hesitation, Lionel began searching the building for any office where he could find information about "Emil".

Translation Department, Insurance Department, Shipping Routes and Maps Department, Export Department, Purchasing Department, Customs Department...

These were all large departments with open offices, and Lionel saw quite a few interesting and new things.

For example, on the large desk in the "purchasing department," a man with a mustache inserted a transparent glass ball into the top of a black box and then pulled the handbrake on the box.

With a "buzzing" sound, the glass ball lit up, emitting a dazzling, incandescent white light that rivaled even the gas lamp on the wall.

"Wow!" A chorus of exclamations erupted in the office.

"This is called an 'electric light'!" the man with the mustache began to explain proudly. "It uses electricity to bring light to humans, has no unpleasant smell, does not produce pungent smoke, and does not require daily refilling with gas..."

Before he could finish speaking, the "light" suddenly brightened by several degrees, flickered twice, and finally went out abruptly after letting out a "wailing" sound.

"We don't need to add gas every day, but we do need to change the gas cylinder every day..." one employee joked.

Everyone else laughed, and the office was filled with a cheerful atmosphere!
The man with the mustache showed no embarrassment whatsoever; instead, he promoted the product even more enthusiastically: "This is because the current is unstable... In Professor Joseph Swan's London laboratory, it has already been able to emit light stably for hundreds of hours, and I believe that number will soon double..."

(Joseph Swan was one of the early inventors of the light bulb and later formed a joint venture with Edison.)

Lionel resisted the urge to shout, "It's not electricity, it's not electricity; it's vacuuming, it's vacuuming!" and continued walking forward.

As we passed the "sales department," a man was pushing a strange two-wheeled vehicle and chattering incessantly: "Believe me, the British have put a chain and sprocket on this 'bicycle,' making it easy and effortless to ride."

The 'bicycles' the postmen are riding now are as heavy as dying old horses; the government will soon replace them... as long as 'Orby' gets there first and buys a batch..."

The sales staff hesitated: "Too expensive, too expensive! You're going to sell it for 600 francs just because you added two devices? The government won't agree to distribute them..."

Lionel suppressed the urge to shout, "We're missing a rubber tire! We're missing a rubber tire!"

He suddenly had a feeling that although France in 1879 was a full 150 years away from the era he was familiar with, in some ways, it was only one step away from the "modern life" he was familiar with...

Whether it's the "electric light" or the "bicycle" in the modern sense, they were actually invented by the British.

However, for these novelties to be accepted by the whole of Europe, and even the Americas and Asia, it is an important prerequisite that they first become popular in France and Paris.

If London is the world's "creative capital" in this era, then Paris is the world's "consumption capital."

Every inventor and adventurer longs to be the first to use their new gadgets among the sophisticated, vain, and pleasure-loving Parisians…

Just then, a sign for "Office of Colonial and Overseas Communications" appeared in front of him. He thought of how "Emil" boasted about having a farm in Guyana and had persuaded his family to invest in the construction of the Panama Canal, which meant that his "business" was mainly overseas.
Lionel straightened his clothes, smoothed his hair with his hand, and calmly walked inside.

This is a small office with only a table. Behind the table, the three walls are lined with tall, wide cabinets, each with a small compartment and a brass nameplate.

Behind the table sat a young woman, probably in her early twenties, with long black hair styled in a low bun, held firmly in place by a brown hairnet and silver hair clips. She wore a stiffly ironed, gray-blue belted blouse, the cuffs faded from washing; the buttons were fastened from her throat to her chest, tighter than a border defense line. She looked up, saw a stranger among the young men, and greeted him in a completely indifferent tone, "Good afternoon!"

Lionel gave an innocent smile: "Good afternoon—I wanted to ask about sending a letter to Mr. 'Emile'..."

The young woman's reply remained as calm as still water: "Mr. 'Emil'? We have many 'Mr. Emil's' in our company. Which one are you looking for?"

"Émile" is a common name in France, and Lionel genuinely didn't know his surname or middle name, so he could only try to appease him using information from the letter: "It's Émile, who used to be the manager of the South American branch in America. He might have recently gone to the Alpes region..."

The girl was clearly puzzled by his hesitation: "Didn't he give you his business card?" As the headquarters of one of France's largest trading companies, the building handled more than a million francs of wealth every day, so many shady characters frequented the place, which she was used to.

She turned to the side alertly, placing her hand on the call button.

Lionel took a deep breath and looked at the girl in front of him more closely. He noticed that the stitching on the left shoulder of her coat was slightly crooked, obviously sewn by herself or her mother.

In this era, it was still a very rare phenomenon for literate women to "show their faces in public".

They usually come from middle-class families, either having learned to read under their fathers' tutelage or having attended convent schools. They choose to work because of poor family finances or the need to save up for their dowry.

However, most people in this group choose to work as tutors for wealthy merchants and nobles, and it is extremely rare for them to work in such busy places.

After all, the general expectation of women in this era is still that of a "virtuous wife and good mother," and the Napoleonic Code (i.e. the Civil Code) grants husbands absolute legal authority over their wives.

Lionel steeled himself, put away his social smile, and said in a sincere tone, "My name is Lionel, Lionel Sorel, an Alpine, and I am currently a student at the Sorbonne."

Hearing Lionel's words, the girl relaxed her guard slightly: "Then what are you going to do?"

Lionel looked into her eyes with a gentle, slightly sad expression: "Actually, I came here for my family in the Alps."

He then laid out everything about "Emil," his family situation, and his worries, and finally said earnestly, "I'm sorry, I did lie just now... but it was for my family, for my father who is almost blind from copying all day, and for my mother who is hunched over from working every day."
And my sister, my poor sister Ivana, she was so eager for love that she was blinded by it…

At this point, he keenly noticed that the girl's eyes were already glistening with tears, and quickly added, "I don't want to gain anything from 'Orby,' I just want my family far away in the Alps to be safe and sound..."

Furthermore, if this "Emil" is indeed a fraud, then that tarnishes "Olbi's" reputation, wouldn't you agree?

After listening to Lionel's explanation, the young woman pondered for a moment before whispering to him, "There are too many people now... Wait for me at the 'Seine Sunset' café after get off work."

Lionel nodded knowingly, not pressing further, and smiled again: "On behalf of my family, I thank you for your kindness—oh, by the way, has anyone ever said your eyes are beautiful? Like the waters of Lake Geneva..."

The girl blushed instantly, lowered her head, and stammered, "...Someone did say that. How did you know?"

Lionel didn't answer, but instead asked, "I still don't know your name."

The girl looked up, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling: "My name is Sophie, Sophie Deneuve."

(End of this chapter)