Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 36, "The Decadent City," provides an entry point.
When Lionel re-entered Mrs. Martin's apartment, he was greeted with compliments and awe from everyone.

Petty's mother even called him "Lord Sorel".

“What a pitiful thick barrier…” Lionel muttered to himself as he mentioned moving to Mrs. Martin.

Mrs. Martin seemed to have expected this day, showing no surprise whatsoever. Instead, she coldly settled the rent with Lionel.

Compared to others, she didn't need to be as in awe of Lionel.

After all, in Paris, an elderly widow like her who owns an entire apartment building for rent wouldn't be short of money; over the past 30 years, she has witnessed the ups and downs of strangers in this city of desire.

Many of them rose to prominence faster and more brilliantly than Lionel, but often their obituaries would appear in the newspapers within a few years.

When Lionel came to Paris to study at university, he only brought two suitcases containing clothes, blankets, and books; this time, he also only took those two suitcases with him, along with the pots and pans that Petit had bought before he fell ill.

He quickly packed his meager belongings, leaving behind some odds and ends such as half-burnt candles, soap as thin as paper, and the iron rack used to warm food.

Going back down to the first floor, Jacques Petit, the groom working in the apartment, approached him solicitously: "Young Master Sorel... would you like me to take you to your new place? For just 2 francs, I can take you anywhere in Paris."

Jacques Petit drove a small carriage pulled by a single horse, which could carry both people and goods; however, the old horse's rump was so thin that it was doubtful whether it could take Lionel "anywhere in Paris".

Lionel shook his head: "I've already hired a carriage..."

No sooner had they finished speaking than they heard the clear sound of horses' hooves outside the door, followed by the clanging of copper bells—clearly the kind of fine carriage that cost at least 15 francs a day.

Lionel showed no reluctance, only saying a few words to Petty's parents before carrying his luggage to the "Capriole" carriage outside, disappearing into the streets of Obercamp with the sound of hooves.

The tenants of Mrs. Martin's apartment stood under the eaves at the entrance, discussing for a long time before dispersing.

Lionel first went to the bank and withdrew 500 francs in cash, of which 270 francs were for the deposit of the new apartment for two months and the rent for this month, and another 50 francs were for the meal allowance for this month; the rest was for purchasing some necessities and living expenses for the next period of time.

Seeing his bank balance rapidly shrink from four digits to three digits, Lionel felt a pang of regret. He realized he didn't know how little money he had until he went to Paris.

Fortunately, he had a 1500 franc draft on hand, which could theoretically be cashed in three months, but if he really needed money, he could sell it on the market for cash.

With the money remaining in his bank savings account and his weekly column fee for Le Bourgeois, he could support a decent life in Paris for one to two years.

By evening, Lionel had already settled into his residence on the fifth floor of 12 Antenna Street.

After explaining every detail of the room in great detail, the caretaker Enzo Roy handed the key to Lionel, said goodbye, and left the room.

Lionel then relaxed and lay down on his large bed, enjoying the softness he had never experienced in Mrs. Martin's apartment attic, and couldn't help but start imagining his future life.

But then, at an inopportune moment, there was a knock on the apartment door. Lionel quickly straightened his clothes and went to the front hall to open it. Standing in the doorway was an extremely handsome man, slightly taller than the already quite tall Lionel. His hair and beard were slicked back with wax and combed impeccably, gleaming like a mirror.

As soon as Lionel opened the door, he flashed an extremely bright smile: "Good evening, neighbor. I am Lucien de Pance, and I live in room 505."

Lionel's room number was 502. Room 505 was at the end of the corridor, which would be called the "end unit" in today's terms. It was the largest and most rooms in the fifth-floor apartment, and also the best decorated.

Lionel was momentarily confused about the other party's purpose, but still politely returned the greeting: "Lionel, Lionel Sorel, good evening."

Lucian's smile was as charming as ever: "You were here to see the house today, weren't you? I was in the next room, um, room 503, when I heard the noise... If Petit hadn't been clinging to me, I would have come out to say hello to you already!"
You know, the legs of a woman caught in lust are harder to break free from than the chains of the Bastille…

Lucian spoke of his romantic affairs without any restraint to Lionel, a complete stranger he had just met, even with a hint of boasting, leaving Lionel speechless and embarrassed.

But Lucien didn't care at all, saying cheerfully, "It's great to have a young man like you move in. This apartment building is full of boring businessmen, engineers, and accountants who wouldn't even go to see one of my performances at the nearby opera house—"

Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm an actor, I work at the opera house, and I'll soon be a lead actor..."

This was the first time Lionel had encountered such an overly familiar person in Paris. Seeing the other person's animated expression, he didn't know how to interrupt him for a moment.

Fortunately, footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs, and then a panting, over-fifty-year-old fat man appeared in the corridor. Lucian immediately turned around and greeted him in the same exaggerated tone: "Oh, my esteemed Lord Greenheit, good evening! God bless you!"

Fat Greenheit quickly took off his hat in return: "Good evening, Lucian, thank you for your blessing, and may God bless you."

After exchanging brief greetings with Lionel, he heard the door to room 503 open, and a sweet female voice rang out from inside: "Darling, welcome home!"

A smile spread across Greenheit's face as he reached out and walked inside, presumably to embrace the woman who was greeting him, and then kicked the door shut behind him.

Lucian turned around, his expression unchanged, and sincerely praised, "They are a model couple in this building. Greenheit works in sales for Schneider Electric and earns 5000 francs a year."

Pettit is a good woman; she cooks dinner for her husband every night, and oh, it's delicious..."

Lionel really wanted to ask him, "Delicacies"—did it refer to Pettit's cooking or Pettit herself?

Lucian suddenly extended an invitation to him: "Have you ordered a meal package? The timing is perfect, we can go to the restaurant on the first floor now."

As Lionel looked at Lucien, the "social bull," an idea suddenly flashed into his mind—

For the past few days, he had been struggling to write a good opening for his novel, "The Decadent City." The original "Jin Ping Mei" started with Wu Song's revenge in "Water Margin," which would definitely not work in France. But wasn't this unruly and glib opera singer in front of him the perfect entry point for the story?

Thinking of this, Lionel smiled broadly: "It would be an honor, Mr. Pansay."

(End of this chapter)