Lionel truly felt innocent. He was not the one who had deceived Baroness Alekseyevna, but that lady seemed to have directed all her anger at him.
However, since Sofia had already come knocking, he had to brace himself and face her, no matter how unwilling he was.
Furthermore, he did not believe that a 19th-century literature exam could pose any real challenge to him.
Like all subjects, 150 years meant that the knowledge system had iterated at least 10 times, and many theories that were groundbreaking and difficult to understand back then had, after the passage of time, become nothing more than simple common sense.
But this did not mean he would allow Sofia to manipulate him.
Lionel slowly rose from the hard wooden chair, first scanning the examination room, his gaze finally settling on the Russian noble lady, as bright as the scorching sun.
Lionel's voice was clear, devoid of both anger and fear: "Miss Sofia, you have received the highest level of French education; your accent is as pure as if you were born in the Palace of Versailles.
Presumably, you are intimately familiar with French works and masters? Like Balzac, Voltaire, and Rousseau, whom I just mentioned…"
Sofia proudly tilted her head: "At least in the salons of Moscow, no one is more familiar with them than I am."
France had already implemented a republican system, and noble titles and privileges had been abolished, though cultural inertia remained.
Russia, however, was still a thoroughly feudal society, and the entire country's superstructure was composed of nobles.
In Sofia's eyes, a commoner like Lionel was nothing more than an ant; if not for the laws of France protecting him, she would even have her guards tie him up and drag him two kilometers through the mud with a horse.
Professor Durand also kindly reminded Lionel: "Sofia has been eloquent since childhood; she is Baroness Alekseyevna's most outstanding child and a star in the noble salons of Moscow."
Lionel noticed that when Professor Durand mentioned "child," he did not specify whether it was a "boy" or a "girl."
Lionel smiled, but his words began to sharpen: "You say you are familiar with these masters, but they seem to be merely talking points you use to adorn your presence at noble salons.
The precious pursuit of reason, the emphasis on logic, the practice of civilization in French literature… have not taken root and sprouted in your beautiful head."
Sofia remained dismissive, believing Lionel was merely putting on a brave front.
Lionel paced to Sofia's front, looking down at her from above: "Just as you just repeatedly spoke of hoping for the Sorbonne's 'sublime standards, unshaken by any external factors'—
If my 'empty reputation' is an 'external factor' that can influence the exam, then can your mother's '300,000 francs' and your own social influence be excluded from 'external factors'?
Is there any rationality or logic in this?"
Sofia was momentarily speechless.
Lionel continued his cruel "dissection" in the calmest tone: "When you brazenly utter words like 'rigorous tradition,' 'sublime standards,' and 'temple of knowledge,' did you ever consider—
You yourself just barged into the examination room like a barbarian, without any decorum, interrupting the examination process. Is this respect for tradition, standards, and the temple?
Is there any civilization in this?"
Sofia was somewhat dumbfounded by the sudden questioning.
In the salons of Moscow, not a single noble youth would question her like this; they would only be subservient under her dazzling brilliance, losing their composure under her sharp words.
Lionel's unyielding, confrontational demeanor momentarily threw her into a state of confusion, making it impossible to organize her thoughts.
But Lionel was not prepared to give her time to retort, so the questioning did not end: "So, Miss Sofia Ivanovna Durova-Shcherbatova—
You constantly profess your love for French culture, yet you only interpret it as elegant conversation in salons, capital for showing off in social circles, or…
Like your mother's 300,000-franc donation, a tool used to self-aggrandize, and even attempt to interfere with others' freedom!
Therefore, you have never truly understood the soul of French literature; it is inherently incompatible with your mindset of attempting to control everything with money and power!
Your French may be better than most French people, but you are still, ha, a Russian…"
Lionel's words were truly scathing; Sofia's face turned from red to white, then from white to green, and her full chest heaved violently.
She wanted to retort, to scold, to call her servants in and throw this arrogant young writer out…
This was a kind of spiritual humiliation she had never encountered before! She could only stare intently at Lionel, flames burning in her eyes.
Lionel smiled faintly, turned, and sat back in his chair, facing Professor Durand and the other two judges again.
"So, gentlemen professors, please give me the questions. I accept the additional test.
But the purpose of this additional test is not to prove my personal 'unworthiness' or 'worthiness,' nor is it to satisfy the expectations or concerns of any generous lady.
Rather, it is to provide Miss Sofia Ivanovna, who has traveled so far, with a compulsory lesson on the true spirit of French literature, a lesson she has missed!"
The three examiners—Professors Durand, Moreau, and Leclerc—exchanged grave and complex glances.
Lionel's sharp display was certainly satisfying, but it also pushed them completely into the spotlight.
After some deliberation, Professor Gustave Durand pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his voice regaining the composure of a scholar: "Lionel, you have defended the right to question and have accepted the challenge that comes with it.
Since you have voluntarily requested an additional test to prove the purity of Sorbonne's academia and the quality of your own knowledge, then we shall grant you this."
He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the hushed audience in the gallery, finally returning to Lionel's face: "Please elaborate on the relationship between 'truth' and 'morality' in French literature and, indeed, in the entire European literary tradition. Are they necessarily in opposition?
If opposition exists, how does a writer reconcile, present, or even utilize this opposition in their works?"
As soon as the question was posed, the entire tiered classroom fell into a dead silence; even Sofia momentarily forgot the humiliation she had just suffered, displaying a pensive expression.
This was an extremely grand and profound proposition within the 19th-century literary theory system, touching upon the core of literary creation.
Its difference from the previous questions was that it no longer set specific writers or works as a frame of reference, so although there was no "reference answer," it best reflected the respondent's caliber.
Lionel tried to appear to be thinking, and after a good while, he began to answer: "'Truth' and 'morality,' like two pillars of a spiritual temple, though standing separately, are actually in a tense, symbiotic relationship."
…
"Literature seeks truth to reveal the complexity of human nature and society, not simple moralizing or whitewashing."
…
"If literature only serves the 'morality' defined by the upper classes, avoiding truth, then it degenerates into decorative paintings adorning the walls of noble salons, losing its power to strike the soul."
When Sofia heard the words "noble salons," her face instantly darkened a few shades.
Lionel's discourse was not over:
"And true moral power often arises from a profound analysis of truth, coupled with compassion and pity."
…
"Therefore, a writer's reconciliation of 'truth' and 'morality' is not about whitewashing or avoidance, but about fearlessly delving into truth, and with profound insight and broad moral sentiment, while presenting 'what is,' guiding readers to ponder 'why' and 'how it should be.'"
…
"The highest literary morality is not rigid dogma, but a profound understanding of human nature, an unflinching exposure of injustice, and an unceasing pursuit of dignity and freedom!"
…
"As for those who attempt to define 'morality' and constrain 'truth' with money and power, they are often the ones least able to withstand the illumination of truth. Their 'morality' is merely a fig leaf to maintain their own privileges and illusory sense of superiority."
…
Lionel's discourse ended. He stood up and bowed to the professors and the dean: "I believe my examination should be concluded."
Then, amidst the cheers and applause of the students, he calmly walked through the crowd and left the scene.
Before leaving, he casually threw a remark at Sofia: "Your last French lesson is over, Miss Sofia Ivanovna Durova-Shcherbatova."
Upon hearing this resounding taunt, Sofia was still able to stand, but Madame Rothschild, who had been listening in the adjacent small room, went limp and collapsed onto the sofa.