Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 31 Peculiar Needs

Lionel glanced into the lab: "Professor Bobuzer isn't here?"

Pierre Curie cautiously said, "The professor has gone to dinner; he'll probably be back in a bit..."

Lionel laughed – “Maybe,” that is, it’s unlikely he’ll come back.

He asked in a low voice, "Mr. Curie, I heard that you can get some experimental supplies that are not easy to obtain on the market, such as chemical reagents..."

Pierre Curie's face visibly showed panic, and he quickly denied it: "That's a rumor... Besides, this is the 'Physics Laboratory,' didn't you see the sign?"

Lionel quickly said, "Don't be nervous, I was just asking..."

Pierre Curie was both a genius who earned his master's degree at the age of 18 and an eccentric who loved to break through traditional research paradigms.

He always liked to conduct experiments that interested him in addition to what the professors required. He even had a small private laboratory in his apartment, which resulted in his income always falling short of his expenses.

So he would occasionally take on some "side jobs," helping the Sorbonne students tinker with some strange but harmless gadgets.

Of course, this was something his mentor and direct superior, Professor Bobuzet, could not tolerate. He believed that Pierre Curie should not waste his talent on such unorthodox methods.

Lionel took out his badge and student ID and handed them to the other person.

Seeing that Lionel was indeed a Sorbonne student, Pierre Curie breathed a sigh of relief: "Alright, but why did you come to the lab? If Professor Bobuzer sees you, we're all in trouble."

Lionel then extended an invitation: "How about we go to 'Procop' for a coffee?"

"Procop" is the name of a café next to the Faculty of Science, which has hosted masters such as Voltaire, Rousseau, and Hugo, and is also one of the cafés that the Sorbonne's teachers and students love to visit.

Pierre Curie hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "Wait for me." He then returned to the laboratory to finish up, and carefully checked that all the instruments were turned off to prevent the million-franc laboratory from being blown up while they were having coffee.

Fifteen minutes later, the two sat down at the "Procop" small round table, each holding a cup of coffee and sipping it.

At this point, Lionel was no longer in a hurry. He observed this scientist, who was both lucky and unlucky, with great interest, and couldn't help but be lost in thought as he thought about his story with his wife, who was famous in the history of science.

Pierre Curie couldn't help but ask, "What exactly do you want?"

Lionel then came to his senses: "I need some copper chloride, can you get me some?"

Pierre Curie was taken aback: "What do you need it for?"

Although his major was physics, his brother Jacques-Paul Curie had been a chemistry teaching assistant at a medical school, where Pierre had helped his brother organize lecture notes.

Moreover, a genius like him was naturally good at physics and chemistry during his basic education; he just focused on physics later on.

Lionel gave a sly smile: "I want to turn the burning flames green."

…………

It was already 8 p.m. when they parted ways with Pierre Curie. The two had a light meal at a café for dinner. Although Lionel was a liberal arts student in his previous life, he still had the foundation to get into Peking University. He remembered some basic physics and chemistry knowledge, as well as some interesting experiments his teachers had done.

Therefore, his exchanges with Pierre Curie were quite pleasant, and he would often share some strange knowledge and imaginative theories that amazed the other.

Although Pierre Curie thought these were all nonsense, this was, after all, the first Sorbonne student he had encountered who had such a profound understanding of the natural sciences.

What's even stranger is why Lionel specifically reminded him when they parted: "Be careful of oncoming carriages when crossing the road."

Of course, Lionel couldn't say it outright: the year after you achieved great success, you were crushed on the head by a horse-drawn carriage wheel because you weren't looking at the road while crossing.

Back at Mrs. Martin's apartment, the aroma of stew was gone, as were Patty's star-like eyes and her clear "Master Sorel".

All that remained was a dark, gloomy stairwell, cold air, and a lingering, unpleasant odor that permeated every corner.

Lionel knew that it was not only foolish to talk about moral education with these poor people who were struggling to make ends meet and whose lives could be lost at any moment, but it was also an immoral thing to do.

The only people he can save now are himself, Petit, and the Sorel family, who are far away in the Alps.

This weekend, we absolutely must find a suitable house—not only to keep ourselves away from the risk of getting sick, but also to provide Petty with a clean environment to recuperate in after she is discharged from the hospital.

Such residences are generally only available for rent in "Ottoman-style" apartment buildings that have undergone urban redevelopment, and are mostly concentrated in the aristocratic, wealthy, and middle-class areas of the first to ninth arrondissements.

In these places, a fully equipped apartment with two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a separate bathroom usually costs no less than 100 francs per month, not including meals.

In addition, you should also consider the cost of purchasing personal items after moving into the apartment.

6000 francs may seem like a lot, but in reality, it's just the entry ticket to a middle-class life in Paris, leaving very little after deducting household debt.

If he cannot continuously accumulate enough wealth, within two years at most, he will be like the protagonist in Balzac's "Old Goriot," living in a worse and worse place each year.

Lionel's desire for fame and fortune was more intense than ever before.

He lit a candle, took out a manuscript paper, and luxuriously brewed himself a cup of black coffee. Then, like Balzac who had just gone bankrupt, he wrote furiously under the flickering candlelight, copying his newly completed "The Old Guard."

At that moment, he even felt that every letter he was writing was making a clanging sound, like a copper coin colliding with a silver franc.

The next morning, Lionel arrived at the Sorbonne 20 minutes earlier than usual and waited at the door of the Dean of Studies, Mr. Dunn.

It was nearly 9 o'clock when Mr. Dunn arrived at the office, and he looked quite surprised to see Lionel: "What are you doing here?"

Lionel took out the copied manuscript from his pocket and handed it to the dean of studies, saying in an unusually polite tone, "This is the manuscript you requested. I have finished writing it and I am handing it to you today."

Mr. Dunn took the manuscript, frowned, and wondered if the student was being a bit hasty, completing a novel in just a few days. Was he just being perfunctory?
But since he had already completed the dean's task, the rest was none of his business, so he accepted the manuscript, nodded, and said, "Very good, you can go to class now."

(End of this chapter)