I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 1006: The New Life of the Old Nobles

"Well, you'll have to forgive me," said Pierre-Janaud de Portyères, with an exaggerated expression of pain. "I hate to be punished. Besides, Madame Lavisia can't do without me."

He is currently working as a Latin teacher for Mrs. Lavisia, which actually helps her plan the dates between her lovers to avoid duels after those young men discover each other's existence.

It was an easy and pleasant job, and the income covered his own food and drink, and he could also give his family 25 francs every month.

The three of them drank for a while and then returned home around nine o'clock in the evening.

What they didn't realize was that this would be their last chance to drink together in the next few years.

The next morning, the blond young man Xiao Meng received an interview notice from the Paris Army Academy - which meant that he was basically able to enter the military academy unless he contradicted the interviewer in public.

The officer who delivered the notice did not leave immediately, but looked at the porcelain in his home with interest: "Well, very beautiful, is it produced in the East?"

"No, sir, it's just a British imitation," Chaumont said honestly. "My grandfather bought it before the Seven Years' War. You know, no one wants it now."

The officer nodded, sat down on the chair, looked at Xiao Meng and said, "If it's convenient, I would like to know your views on honor."

The young man immediately stood up straight: "That is life, a gift from God, the most precious thing in the world, sir."

"Very good. I understand you can draw, and speak German?"

"Yes, sir. My father taught me."

"He must be very well-read. So, what do you think of liberalism?"

"Well... sometimes, it has its value, but first of all, we must ensure order and rules. I don't like those who shout "freedom" and "rights" all day long and do whatever they want. What the world needs is..."

After he finished explaining his ideas, the officer nodded slightly again and took out a pen and paper to write something down.

Xiao Meng's mother placed tea with three tablespoons of sugar in front of the officer, along with some small desserts, and said politely, "There's nothing to treat you, just help yourself."

As she turned around, she secretly winked at her son.

The officer thanked him and looked at the young man again: "Mr. Xiao Meng, if you become an officer, would you like to stay in the command post and command the battle, or rush to the front line and kill the enemy with your own hands?"

"Of course I'll be at the front! No matter if it's a flintlock or a cannon, don't try to stop me..." Xiao Meng suddenly remembered his mother's eyes, his voice weakened, and he murmured, "However, being able to command soldiers to defeat the enemy with the most perfect tactics is what an officer should do most..."

"Ok."

The officer took notes while asking questions. After more than half an hour, he put away his notebook and stood up: "Mr. Xiao Meng, thank you for chatting with me for so long."

"No, no, it's nothing. I just enjoy talking to people."

The officer said goodbye to him, then suddenly stopped and asked, "One last question, why do you want to become an officer?"

Chaumont said without hesitation: "I want to follow the horse of His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and conquer the whole of Europe!" He hesitated for a moment and added, "I also want to protect..."

The officer smiled and raised his hand to interrupt him: "Mr. Xiaomeng, are you willing to be an 'honorary representative'?"

"Honorary representative? What's that?"

...at the Jocelyn tennis club in the southern part of the Saint-Germain district of Paris.

Rochefoucauld stretched out his chubby little hand to the middle-aged man in front of him, almost begging, "Mr. Jerome, as long as I manage it properly, I can rely on the payment for goods to ensure that the cash flow will not be ..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Rochefoucauld." The middle-aged man picked up the briefcase. "Nine thousand francs is the minimum requirement for an agent. If you really want to do this business, go and raise funds. For the sake of our friendship, I can wait for you for another three days."

The little fat boy watched the man leave and sat back in his chair with a bit of disappointment.

Yes, there are opportunities everywhere in France today. You can make money in steel, chemicals, pharmaceuticals, etc., but the basic requirement is capital.

His family only gave him 3 francs in capital. In fact, even if his family sold all the land in the countryside, it would be impossible to raise 9 francs.

As for borrowing, one or two hundred francs is fine, but if you ask for more money, you will be rejected.

"Oh, it's a rare opportunity like this." Rochefoucauld said to himself with a smile, "Why not rob the Discount Bank..."

He looked down at his short legs and shook his head in disappointment.

He drank the coffee on the table, picked up his briefcase and walked towards the door. He heard two men sitting at the table next to him speaking in French with a slight accent: "Jack, I know you still have some supply. Give me some. 1 pounds, 1 pounds will be fine."

"James, let me be frank. I do have some stock, but you know it's hard to get wool in from outside right now, so I have to keep some for emergencies."

Rochefoucauld turned around and saw a middle-aged man with bags under his eyes and protruding ears, spreading his hands and begging, "How about 3 francs, no, 3 francs and 5 sous a pound? If I continue to be out of stock, I will lose the trust of my old customers in Lyon."

Rochefoucauld sighed in his heart that a wealthy man who could take out 3 francs at once had to beg others humbly.

Soon, the man named Jack stood up and left. The middle-aged man with protruding ears was still trying: "It's easy to negotiate the price. You see, I'm really running out of business..."

The other party walked straight out of the club.

Rochefoucauld was about to follow him out, but for some unknown reason he stopped, turned to look at James, and thought to himself: He has a lot of money, but has no business to do, and I have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Maybe we can collaborate?
He immediately stepped forward and bowed to the man with protruding ears: "Dear sir, I am Henri François de Rochefoucauld. Son of Baron Rochefoucauld. Do you mind if I sit here?"

The latter was stunned for a moment, then immediately showed his habitual smile: "James House Walsh. It's a pleasure to talk to you."

Rochefoucauld sat down opposite him: "Are you British?"

"No, no," Walsh smiled and waved his hands, "I've been a Parisian for a long time. My home is in the 'Palace Garden' community."

Rochefoucauld suddenly felt more hopeful. A villa in the royal garden now costs at least 11 francs.

He exchanged a few pleasantries with Walsh and said, "Well, Mr. Walsh, I have a good business that may interest you."

"Oh? Please tell me about it."

"Do you know 'honeycomb briquettes'? They are very useful stoves that can be placed anywhere in the house and can be used for heating or cooking. Best of all, they only cost a few denarii a day.

"And I have an opportunity to become the agent of this thing in the St. Anthony area."

(End of this chapter)