"I hope both of you understand that what happened this morning was extremely serious in nature!"
Dean Henri Patin said sternly to the two students in front of him, sitting behind his large desk.
The Dean's office was a renovated former aristocratic prayer room of the Sorbonne Theological College.
It was spacious, with a high vaulted ceiling and numerous icons.
In the winter afternoon, sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, transforming into elusive, vibrant colors.
The firewood in the fireplace crackled loudly, and the flickering flames reflected on Henri Patin's stern face, making him appear even more oppressive.
Lionel and Albert hung their heads, not daring to speak.
Henri Patin leaned slightly forward:
"Do you know who else was in my carriage this morning?"
Upon hearing this, the two raised their heads slightly and looked at the Dean.
So, there was a reason why such a small matter had alarmed him – otherwise, even when students from the "Royalists" and "Republicans" factions got into a brawl, it was handled by the head of academic affairs because it happened within the school and didn't make news; he hadn't even shown his face then.
Dean Henri Patin's voice became somewhat annoyed:
"That was Madame Rothschild! One of our college's main benefactors! She was originally planning a low-key inspection today, but you two..."
He sighed at this point:
"Fortunately, she was sitting in the carriage and her ears were not polluted by your nonsense!
But your ugly faces and the chaos of others gawking left a 'deep impression' on her.
God, look what you've done?"
Only then did the two understand why Dean Henri Patin was so angry.
"Rothschild..."
Lionel naturally knew the name well.
On the Chinese internet in the 21st century, the "Rothschild family" along with "Freemasons" and "Illuminati" were considered one of the "super organizations" secretly controlling the world in tabloid literature.
The common characteristic of these super organizations was – on one hand, they were "incredibly mysterious" and "those who knew the truth were in mortal danger"; on the other hand, they were widely publicized with every detail, known by all.
Of course, the evil plans of these "super organizations" were also very grand – for example, to eliminate 98% of the world's population, leaving only 2% of the elite; then these elites would happily start doing the jobs of the 98% of humanity who had been eliminated.
...
Lionel, of course, didn't believe these urban legends, so he wasn't "shaken to the core."
But he also didn't know much about what the Rothschild family was doing in this era.
However, from the fact that Madame Rothschild could fund Sorbonne, they must be very wealthy, likely still in their old business, finance.
As a national university, the government's funds mainly ensured the basic operation of the college, but to conduct more research activities, they often relied on these generous benefactors.
Every year, Sorbonne would host a grand campus poetry reading before the Easter holidays, inviting benefactors to gather with outstanding students selected by the college.
On stage, young, handsome students would recite poems praising the benefactors and their families.
If they pleased the benefactors, the college might receive an additional grant.
Whether a dean was competent was not determined by how "virtuous and respected" they were, but by how much funding they could bring to the college.
Now, the two had angered an important benefactor of the college, so the consequences were naturally very serious.
Lionel wouldn't argue with the Dean at this point, saying foolish things like "Albert insulted me first."
Instead, he apologized sincerely:
"I am truly very sorry, Mr. Patin!
I apologize for my impulsiveness and harshness to you, to Madame Rothschild, and to all the teachers and students of Sorbonne!
If given the opportunity, I hope to personally apologize to Madame Rothschild!
I believe she will understand that this was merely an unintentional prank between impulsive, ignorant young men, and does not represent the true nature of a 'Sorbonne student'!"
Dean Henri Patin's expression softened slightly.
He then turned his gaze to Albert next to him, with an expectant look.
Who knew Albert would mutter under his breath:
"...that snobbish Jewish woman, back when my father was deputy minister..."
Although his voice was very low, Dean Henri Patin could certainly hear it, and his eyes clearly panicked.
Lionel sensed something was wrong and quickly kicked Albert in the shin.
Albert, wincing in pain, turned his head and glared:
"You..."
Who knew that in a flash of lightning, Lionel had already pulled a dried, hard piece of bread from his pocket and, with quick hands, shoved it into Albert's wide-open mouth.
Then, calmly and composedly, he said:
"Mr. Dean, Albert spoke too much in class and his voice is a bit hoarse.
He just said that when his father was deputy minister, he highly praised the Rothschild family's important contributions to France.
I believe he also feels deep regret towards Madame Rothschild and yourself.
We already made up on the way to the office! Right, Albert?"
As he spoke, he stared intensely at Albert.
Albert, after all, came from a noble family.
Although he was an uneducated fop, he still had the ability to read people's expressions.
Seeing the reactions of the Dean and Lionel, he knew something was amiss, but his mouth was blocked by the hard bread, so he couldn't speak, only nodding repeatedly.
Lionel stepped forward, tightly embraced Albert, and forcefully patted him on the back several times, almost making Albert vomit blood:
"Albert, we are all 'Sorbonne students', we are family! Right?"
Albert, with bread in his mouth and a heavy blow to his back, almost passed out from the pain, but at this moment, he could only cooperate with Lionel's act.
Dean Henri Patin finally breathed a sigh of relief and waved his hand:
"You two may go back! I will have the academic dean report on your situation regularly.
If this happens again, you will not be worthy of being 'Sorbonne students'!"
Upon hearing this, the two felt as if they had received a great pardon.
After bowing to Dean Henri Patin, they quickly left his office.
Once in the corridor, Albert finally "pulled" the hard, salty bread out of his mouth, threw it into the courtyard, and then spat several times before raising his head and glaring fiercely at Lionel.
Lionel's expression did not change:
"That was my lunch, you owe me a replacement."
Albert's face was gloomy:
"Then you'd better explain clearly!"
Lionel looked back at the closed door of the Dean's office.
After confirming no one was following them, he whispered,
"If I'm not mistaken, Madame Rothschild should be in the office, we just can't see her."
Albert was stunned by this, his mouth agape, not knowing what to say.
After a long while, he said expressionlessly to Lionel,
"This time... I owe you one."
Then he pulled a 10-franc note from his pocket and handed it to Lionel:
"Your lunch money... This is enough to order a good set meal at the 'Louvre Grand Hotel'."
Lionel accepted it with a clear conscience: "Helping you is actually helping me too... Of course, you would definitely have been worse off than me."
Albert knew he was telling the truth.
If his complaints had been heard by Madame Rothschild, Dean Henri Patin would certainly have imposed severe punishment, and no one would have escaped.
As the two talked, Madame Rothschild, dressed in exquisite casual attire, was already sitting opposite Dean Henri Patin, asking with a smile:
"What did the Rohan boy say just now?"
The wealthy noblewoman appeared no older than 30, with brilliant golden hair like early summer sunlight and emerald eyes like jewels, as if she had just stepped out of a Baroque noble portrait.
Dean Henri Patin smiled slightly:
"What he wanted to say has already been conveyed by Lionel. I believe that was his true intention."
Madame Rothschild's smile became ambiguous:
"Is that so?
That's quite unlike his temper... But that Lionel is quite interesting.
Will he participate in this year's poetry reading?"
Dean Henri Patin chuckled:
"Of course, he is excellent! You will see his wonderful recitation at the poetry reading..."
Madame Rothschild's eyes immediately lit up.
(End of chapter)
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