Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 160 (Bonus Chapter 2) A Letter from Britain
The long train journey was particularly dull and tedious because I had already experienced it once.

The scenery outside the window could no longer bring him peace; instead, it reminded him of another real but exhausting France outside of Paris.

Lionel did not inform the Zola family in Médan, nor did he inform Alice and Petit beforehand.

Two days later, like an ordinary traveler, he disembarked at the San Lazar train station and finally set foot in this "City of Light" again.

Paris embraced him with its usual sweltering heat, noise, and stench.

Although it's almost September, the stench in Paris has not lessened at all; on the contrary, it has become even stronger due to the continuous high temperatures.

Lionel almost held his breath as he hurried across the station square, hailed a horse-drawn carriage, and returned to his apartment at 64 Lafitte Street.

Having washed away the dust of the journey, Lionel lay on his familiar bed, feeling a special tranquility, and drifted off to sleep...

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

At six o'clock on Friday afternoon, as soon as the church bells rang, employees from all the buildings in the Second District rushed out of their doors.

Tomorrow is the weekend, and no sunset is more beautiful than Friday's.

Sophie Deneuve had already packed everything up, and as soon as the clock turned into a vertical line, she hurriedly left "Orby Trading Company".

Today she wore a light gray linen maxi dress with a high neck and gathered sleeves. Although the style was conservative, it stood out because of her tall and graceful figure.

"Sophie!" a voice called from across the street.

Sophie looked up at the sound, and when her gaze fell on Lionel on the side of the street, she froze instantly.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, and the cloth bag in her hand almost slipped from her grasp.

First came surprise and confusion, then an overwhelming joy that brought a blush to her cheeks.

She almost cried out in surprise: "Leonard...?"

He then subconsciously looked around, as if unsure if he was hallucinating: "You...you're not in the Alps, are you?"

Lionel walked up to her with a genuine and cheerful smile: "My vacation ended early, and the first person I wanted to see was you."

Sophie was still a little confused: "My God... I just saw you in the newspaper... Is everything alright? At home...?"

Lionel said casually, "Everything is fine."

The other employees of "Orby Trading Company" also noticed the two, and almost all of them found it unbelievable.

Lionel was tall and handsome, dressed smartly and solemnly, with a light two-wheeled open carriage beside him—it was unclear whether it was his own or rented.

Sophie's face flushed slightly, but she still proudly held her head high, letting them talk as they pleased.

Lionel, unconcerned by the stares, first invited her into the carriage. Once the carriage started moving and the cool breeze dispelled the heat, he spoke: "Sophie, tomorrow is Saturday, and then it's the weekend..."

"Would you like to come with me to the Bois de Boulogne? It's cool and peaceful there. We can breathe fresh air and get away from all this..."

Sophie was stunned. The Bois de Boulogne? That's a resort town on the western outskirts of Paris.

Spending the weekend? She knew all too well what that meant.

Although she was no longer under her parents' control, she never thought of going on a vacation alone with a man before marriage.

Sophie's face showed hesitation and struggle: "Leonard, this...we..."

Lionel interrupted her, his gaze intense: "Sophie, I know your concerns. But I assure you, I simply crave peace and companionship."

Right now, all I want to do is be with people who make me feel relaxed and happy, and enjoy a few beautiful moments... In Paris, you're the only one!

Looking at Lionel's face, Sophie suddenly remembered the starry sky over the Alps he had described in his letter, her own stuffy office, and the gossip of her male colleagues...

An unprecedented surge of courage suddenly welled up in Sophie's heart.

She met Lionel's gaze, a slightly shy smile curving her lips: "Okay, Lionel. I'll go with you."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The next day, the sun shines brightly.

Lionel spotted Sophie immediately amidst the bustling crowd at the train station.

She changed into a light blue cotton dress, wore a ribboned straw hat, and carried a small travel bag, looking as fresh as a flower in the morning dew. The journey went smoothly, and before noon, they were already in the lush shade of the Bois de Boulogne.

This place is a world apart from the sweltering and polluted city of Paris; the air here is moist, fresh, and fragrant.

Along the wide forest path, dense oak, beech, and chestnut trees cast cool shade.

Lionel had already booked a holiday cottage on the edge of the forest through an agent. The daily rental cost 80 francs, but that wasn't expensive in Paris.

They settled their luggage and had lunch in the simple kitchen provided by the cabin; in the afternoon, they took a walk in the forest, along winding paths, through sun-dappled woodlands.

At night, it was so quiet that it seemed as if the whole world consisted only of them and the forest; if souls are closely intertwined, then bodies are not far apart...

The next day, Lionel gave Sophie a surprise.

He led Sophie to a wide-open meadow in the forest.

There, a huge, colorful hot air balloon was resting on the ground, and several ground crew members were making final preparations.

This is a tethered hot air balloon, designed to provide tourists with a high-altitude sightseeing experience.

Sophie looked up at the enormous sphere, both confused and a little nervous: "We...are we going to sit in this?"

In Paris, taking a hot air balloon ride is nothing new.

After spring begins, Parisians can see hot air balloons flying overhead almost every day.

But not every Parisian is willing to spend at least 8 francs to enjoy this rare experience.

However, this time Lionel did not choose the "free balloon" which can travel long distances, but instead opted for the safer and more conservative "tethered balloon".

A tethered hot air balloon is always connected to the ground by a rope, so it cannot move after taking off.

Lionel has no shortage of "high-altitude experiences," so he has no interest in entrusting his life to the much more dangerous "free hot air balloon."

Lionel laughed: "First class, I also want to see Paris from the sky."

They paid 20 francs each to climb into the ornate gondola.

The hanging basket is surrounded by a chest-high railing, and the inside is lined with soft cushions and even has a fixed small coffee table.

As flames spewed out, heating the air inside the balloon, the enormous sphere began to slowly rise into the air.

Sophie instinctively grabbed Lionel's arm, but as she moved further away from the ground, her fear was quickly replaced by amazement.

The Bois de Boulogne spread out beneath their feet like a vast, varying shades of green carpet.

In the distance, the outline of Paris is faintly visible, with the Seine River winding through the city like a silver ribbon.

The familiar buildings shimmered in the sunlight, yet strangely, they had lost their former oppressive and murky feel, becoming small and serene.

The surrounding fields, villages, and roads are all within view, offering a breathtakingly expansive vista.

“So beautiful…” Sophie murmured to herself, gripping Lionel’s hand tightly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

A gentle breeze ruffled the strands of hair beneath her hat, and sunlight illuminated her joyful face.

Lionel stood beside her, his heart filled with a peaceful joy.

The hot air mass rose to a height of about 500 meters, where it was finally held firmly by the thick cable and stabilized at that height, rotating slowly.

At this moment, worldly troubles, the stench of Paris, and the entanglements of Montiel all seemed to be isolated beneath the clouds below.

Sophie turned around, about to say something, when Lionel pressed his lips to hers...

---

The two-day holiday passed in the blink of an eye, and Lionel returned to his apartment with a sense of longing.

As soon as he entered the apartment building, the building manager handed him a package.

Lionel looked at the address: "Sent from England?"

　I never expected such an ordinary plot point yesterday to cause such a huge controversy... Although I still wrote it according to the original plan, I still feel that it is my fault as the author that caused everyone to argue so much, so I will punish myself by adding two more chapters.

　　Those who wish to criticize the author can join the group: 650939535
　　
　
(End of this chapter)