Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 249 Mrs. Rothschild's Personal Affairs
Parisian readers have been following this novel for almost a year, and watching Benjamin Boudon and Daphne Villeneuve's constant separations and reconciliations have made them anxious about when they will finally be together.

Now, all expectations have been fulfilled!
Two people who have missed each other for half their lives finally meet and get married in the prime of their lives. What could be more satisfying for them than this?

The sales of Le Parisien and Modern Life surged by nearly 20%.

Many readers who usually only share other people's newspapers or only "listen to stories" in pubs bought this issue to keep at home.

Paul Pigut and George Charpentier were experiencing a bittersweet feeling.

As the editor-in-chief and owner of the newspaper, they certainly knew that Benjamin's "The Curious Cases of Bouton" would soon be finished.

Although Lionel promised to release a brand new serialized novel starting in July, he did not reveal any specific subject matter.

This made the two of them uneasy.

However, they couldn't ask more of Lionel; compared to the still-living "bestselling authors" in the French literary world, Lionel was practically a prolific writer.

After all, not everyone can sleep next to the printing press all day like Balzac, or direct a team to write for him like Dumas.

They had no choice but to trust Lionel, after all, he had proven himself time and time again.

------

In the salons of Paris, the love story of Benjamin Boudon and Daphne Villeneuve once again captured the hearts of the noblewomen.

“Oh, merciful God…” the young Countess of St. Clair was the first to exclaim, her voice thick with emotion.

Her eyes and the tip of her nose were slightly red: "They finally... finally waited for this moment! This is simply the most beautiful reward in the world!"

Her words drew a chorus of murmurs of agreement.

Baroness de Langler echoed, her voice choked with emotion: "Yes, think about it, Benjamin, he was born with that curse on his shoulders..."

Our Daphne, on the other hand, struggled alone in Paris, experiencing the disillusionment of her dreams and emotional setbacks...

They were like two stars cast onto different orbits by fate, who, after a long journey, finally met! This was no easy feat!

Madame de Angelnale, however, paid more attention to the details of the text: "Especially Benjamin looking at Daphne, as if trying to 'confirm the other's soul'—"

Oh! What could better describe this profound sense of identity that transcends time and appearance?
Their union is a mutual recognition of souls, and has nothing to do with physical appearance!

Her words resonated with others, eliciting sighs, and several ladies nodded again, their eyes reddening.

The salon was filled with a bittersweet atmosphere, a heartfelt joy at the two protagonists finally finding happiness.

Just then, Mrs. Rothschild slowly put down her teacup, the porcelain clinking against the silver saucer.

She raised her eyes, swept them over the ladies present, and said in an almost indifferent voice: "The reward of happiness? Yes, without a doubt, they are happy at this moment."

But ladies, haven't you tasted a hint of... terrifying bitterness in this immense happiness and sweetness?
Can't you hear the sorrowful drumbeats that fate had already predetermined beneath this peaceful and blissful melody?

The salon fell silent instantly, and everyone wore expressions of surprise.

Madame de Angelnale asked in bewilderment, “Bitterness? Drumbeats? My dear, what do you mean by that?”
They look to be about the same age, deeply in love, and living a peaceful life—what could be more perfect?

Mrs. Rothschild smiled demurely: "It is precisely this 'comparable age' that has blinded you."

Ladies, please remember the essence of Benjamin Budon—he was 'growing backwards'.

Every day, he grows younger than the day before. And our poor Daphne…

Like all of us, she grows old day by day, following the laws set forth by God and nature.

The ladies' expressions of emotion and relief froze instantly. This scene delighted Mrs. Rothschild, who subtly adjusted her posture, crossing her legs and leaning back on the sofa.
"Now, they stand at the same point on the clock, as if it were a gift of fate. But this is only a fleeting point of equilibrium."

Imagine—years later, when Daphne has more fine lines around her eyes and streaks of silver in her hair, Benjamin looks like a handsome young man in his early thirties.

They walked hand in hand down the street. What would outsiders think? Would they assume she was his sister? Or his mother?

Countess St. Clair suddenly covered her mouth with her hand: "Oh!"

She seemed to see something terrifying.

Mrs. Rothschild struggled to suppress the tremor in her voice and continued, "And then? When Daphne became a middle-aged woman, Benjamin was in his prime."

As Daphne grows old, Benjamin—he might even become a naive teenager, an innocent child!

Good heavens! Can you imagine that scene? An old woman taking care of her 'child' husband?
This is no longer a happy fairy tale; this is the cruelest tragedy!

After he finished speaking, the salon fell into a deathly silence.

The ladies who were just moments ago shedding tears for love now had all their color drained from their faces.

"Oh my god...oh my god! We...we didn't even think of that!"

"This...this is terrible! This fleeting happiness was just a cruel joke of fate!"

"Is this to make the upcoming separation even more painful?"

"Oh, poor Daphne!"

The Countess of St. Clair even burst into tears.

Mrs. Rothschild concluded: "She had just won him over, and now she had to watch him 'leave' her!"
Not death, but in a slower, more agonizing way...

Watching him grow younger and younger, and drift further and further away from her… this is crueler than death!

Baroness de Langler sighed and looked at Madame Rothschild with a complicated expression: "My dear, how can you be so lucid?"
You peeled back the sweet coating, revealing the bitter core within.

Mrs. Rothschild nodded slightly: "The value of literature sometimes lies in revealing the truth, no matter how uncomfortable that truth may be."

This foreshadowing that Lionel planted is where his writing skill and profound meaning are truly revealed.

This is not a simple romantic story of lovers finally getting together; it is a war between humanity and time, destined to be a tragedy.

All the ladies in the salon looked at her with envy and admiration, especially when they heard the name "Lionel," their jealousy practically shone through.

Mrs. Rothschild stood up and smiled proudly: "Ladies, excuse me for a moment... I have some personal business to attend to."

Having said that, she gracefully left the warm living room.

------

Meanwhile, in his apartment at 117 Boulevard Saint-Germain, Lionel stretched, put down his quill, and stood up.

The typewriter, along with the bicycle, had been moved to the small workshop rented for them by the Delacroix Notary Office, and he had returned to using a quill pen.

Today, he officially finished writing the final ending of "The Curious Cases of Benjamin Bouton," which also symbolizes the "coming to a close" of his first full-length novel.

Next, Lionel will focus on writing "A Study in Scarlet".

—And of course, there was his Sorbonne graduation exam!
(I think there will be an extra chapter tomorrow or the day after if I get 1000 votes.)
(End of this chapter)