Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 427 Leon, help!
At dinner time, in the first-class dining room of the Perel, Lionel, Zola, Maupassant, Daudet, Goncourt, Huysmann and others sat around a long table.

The waiters moved quietly back and forth, serving dishes. This meal was more lavish than any they had ever had before, supposedly at the captain's special request.

The conversation naturally revolved around the story Lionel had just told.

As Zola cut a piece of veal, he exclaimed, "Leon, I must say it again, your improvisational skills amaze me."

A pianist born on a cruise ship, who has never set foot on land, and who is a natural-born musician... This concept is so unique.

Especially when you connect him to Debussy, it adds a sense of realism—it's brilliant!

Daudet nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin: "Indeed. To create such a complete and charismatic character in such a short time."

Oh, and that 'musical duel' was so dramatic! I never imagined a musical duel could be more exciting than a sword duel!"

Goncourt's eyes also revealed his appreciation: "What's even more remarkable is that this story has a poetic quality that transcends reality."

His choice to stay on the ship for those 80 years was itself a departure from worldly rules.

No, you should say he was always outside the rules; you didn't even bother to give him a real 'identity'.

Huysman, on the other hand, focused more on details: "You've even thought of details like his adoptive father being a stoker and dying under the hatch, as if the story had been living in your head all along."

Lionel just smiled and forked a piece of asparagus: "Luckily, I just happened to have some ideas."

Maupassant, who hadn't said much until now, suddenly put down his wine glass, twitched his mustache, and said, "Friends, you've only seen the surface of the story; I'm thinking of something else!"

He looked at Lionel. "Léon, after we came back from that stinking stench cabin this afternoon, you said, 'Paris isn't the whole world, and neither is Europe.'"

The crowd quieted down and looked at Maupassant.

Maupassant's eyes became serious: "I think that '80', this genius pianist who never left the ship his whole life, is like us, like many artists who are immersed in Parisian salons, cafes and theaters."

We have the skills, we have the fame, and our world seems to be Paris, because it is the cultural center of Europe.

But we may also be trapped in this 'corner,' never truly experiencing the whole world in our minds.

The ship of '80 years' was his whole world, while our 'ship' is perhaps just the banks of the Seine.

He dared not and was unwilling to set foot on the real land and experience its vastness; what about us?
Are we afraid or unwilling to truly understand the new world beyond Paris and Europe?

His words caused a moment of silence at the table.

Zola spoke first, agreeing: "That makes sense! We often laugh at America as a cultural wasteland, but perhaps it is this arrogance that blinds us."

Guy is right; Léon is reminding us that the source of art lies not only in Paris, but also in the wider world.

Clinging to outdated ideas, even with exceptional skills, can lead to a mindset confined to a single ship, much like the 80s.

Dudley remarked, "Yes, isn't our trip to America precisely to set sail from our 'ship'?"

Lionel listened to their discussion, feeling a bit amused and exasperated.

He simply borrowed the story from "The Legend of 1900" without considering the profound metaphors. These writer friends are just too good at reading comprehension.

However, his companions were able to interpret these meanings on their own, which saved him a lot of trouble.

He picked up his wine glass and said calmly, "Once the story is told, it belongs to everyone, and you can interpret it however you like."

Dinner ended amidst ongoing discussions, and when the group returned to the recreation room, they were all taken aback by what they saw inside.

The small recreation room was packed with people! Not only were there first-class passengers, but many second-class passengers also managed to squeeze in.

There weren't enough chairs, so many people stood, leaned against the wall, or even lined up in the aisle.

As soon as Lionel and his group entered, all eyes turned to them, and a murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd.

"Mr. Sorel has arrived!"

"Let him continue!"

"My God, so many people..."

Lionel was taken aback by the sight.

Zola gave him a gentle push from behind and whispered, "It seems your '80 years' has captivated everyone."

With no seats available, Lionel had no choice but to walk towards the small stage amidst the expectant gazes of the crowd.

When pianist Jean Durand saw him, he immediately smiled.

Lionel stopped, cleared his throat, and the noisy entertainment room instantly fell silent.

He picked up where he left off in the afternoon and began to recount the latter half of his life in the 80s.

He mentioned that for 80 years, he refused countless performance invitations from land and remained on the Perel, accompanying batches of passengers crossing the Atlantic with his music.

His reputation grew, and he became a legendary figure on the ship.

Then, Lionel introduced a name that amazed all the passengers: "Later, one day, a world-renowned music master boarded the Perel, and that was Mr. Camille Saint-Saëns."

A low gasp and murmur arose from the crowd.

Camille Saint-Saëns was hailed as a piano prodigy from the age of 10 and is currently the most outstanding pianist and organist in the French music scene.

Presumably, more than twenty years later, his fame will be at its peak.

"...During that private performance prepared for Monsieur Saint-Saëns, '80's gaze passed over the piano keys and landed on a young woman who was accompanying him."

She was so beautiful, so serene, as if she embodied all the beauty in the world.

His voice softened, and pianist Durand also made the melody exceptionally tender and lingering.

“The heart of the ‘80s’ seemed to be gently touched by something. He spontaneously played a melody that was tender, hopeful, and tinged with a timid longing that he had never experienced before in his life.”

The music seemed to tell of his first longing for the world outside the ship—because she was there.

The audience, especially the ladies, smiled knowingly.

They exchanged glances, as if to say: Love has finally come to this lonely genius. "After the performance, Monsieur Saint-Saëns was deeply moved. He went to '80' and solemnly invited him, 'Come aboard with me. Your talent shouldn't be buried on this ship.'"

I will take you on a tour throughout Europe, and you will become the most famous pianist of this era!

It was an irresistible temptation, and the passengers held their breath.

"However, '80 hesitated. This hesitation was not only due to the invitation from the music maestro;
More importantly, there was the girl whose name he didn't even know; his gaze was constantly fixed on her.

"Ah!" someone couldn't help but exclaim. Everyone thought that the power of love would eventually overcome his dependence on the ship.

"The ship has finally arrived at the port. The spire of Trinity Church in New York has come into view of the passengers."

Lionel's speech slowed and became heavy:

“In 80, he was wearing his best clothes and carrying a small suitcase.”

He stood at the top of the gangway, gazing down at the land he had looked at countless times but had never set foot on.

He saw the girl appear and disappear in the crowd, then her figure gradually blurred and finally vanished completely.

The recreation room was so quiet you could hear the waves crashing against the ship.

He gazed at that unfamiliar land, hesitating for a long, long time. He lifted his foot, then put it down, then put it down again, then lifted it up once more.

Finally, amidst everyone's bewilderment, he suddenly turned around, picked up his luggage, and walked back to the ship step by step with unwavering determination.

He still hadn't taken that step.

"Sigh—!" A huge sigh erupted in the recreation room, filled with disappointment, regret, and even anger.

"What an idiot!"

"For what?"

"He could have had both love and fame!"

Curses and whispers rose in the air; people felt sorry for him and were disappointed in him.

Lionel ignored these reactions, his voice carrying a sense of weariness:
Many years passed, and it was now 1915. The Perel was old, outdated, and no longer kept up with the times.

The shipping company decided to scrap it, blow it up, and replace it with a newer ship.

The audience's hearts were in their throats again.

"All the crew members were notified and disembarked one after another."

However, no one found '80'; it was as if he had evaporated.

Some say that he may have finally come to his senses and secretly disembarked, blending into the crowds on land.
Some say he's still hiding somewhere on the ship, somewhere unknown—

No one knows this ship better than him, and as long as he doesn't want to be found, no one can find him.

The passengers began whispering among themselves, speculating about the fate of "80 years".

"The day of the ship's destruction is drawing ever closer, and the search team has been patrolling again and again, but still has found nothing."

The shipping company manager grew impatient and waved his hand, saying, "Stop! Don't look anymore! There's no such person on the legal documents!"
What difference does it make if someone who doesn't even exist is blown up? Clear the area immediately!

"asshole!"

"Cold-blooded bastard!"

The audience erupted in angry condemnation of the manager.

"Finally, that day came. Everyone evacuated, and the Perel was left all alone at sea."

With several deafening explosions—

Lionel paused, as if he could hear the roar himself: "A huge fireball soared into the sky, and the cruise ship that carried countless stories was blown into countless pieces and sank into the cold seabed."

The story ends.

The recreation room was silent at first, then low sighs and sobs rose up, especially from the emotional ladies who kept wiping their eyes with handkerchiefs.

"He died just like that?"

Did he disembark or not?

"Mr. Sorel, please tell us, is he on the ship or not?"

People were still eager for more and kept asking questions, wanting a definite answer.

Lionel shook his head with a calm smile: "Maybe yes, maybe no, I don't know the answer."

Or rather, the answer lies in the heart of each of you.

After he finished speaking, he bowed slightly, walked off the stage, walked through the crowd, and left the entertainment room, leaving behind a room full of listeners immersed in the story.

"This must be about the purity of art! He would rather perish with his music than be tainted by the world!"

"No, I think it's love! He lost his courage and missed out on love, which is why he's heartbroken!"

"Isn't it just a unique life choice? Everyone has the right to choose their own world, even if that world is just a ship..."

At this point, Maupassant stepped forward again.

He stroked his meticulously manicured beard, a smug smile playing on his lips, and raised his voice: "Gentlemen, Lionel actually meant something else..."

----------

That night, in the dead of night, Maupassant, with a worried look on his face, knocked on Lionel's cabin door.

"Leon, help!" He collapsed into a chair as soon as he entered the room.

(First update, please vote with monthly tickets!)

(End of this chapter)