Fanny

Having persuaded Lavoisier, Joseph could prepare to return to Toulon. However, before that, he wanted to visit Armand's family. Armand was the only son in his family, and his family must be very saddened by his loss. As Armand's good friend, it would be understandable if Joseph weren't in Paris, but it would be quite inappropriate for him to stay and not visit Paris.

So, the day after signing the contract with Lavoisier, Joseph, accompanied by two attendants— the Armand family lived in an affluent neighborhood with excellent security—was perfectly safe with just two people in a four-wheeled carriage.

The carriage stopped near Armand's house. Joseph alighted, gestured for his attendants to remain in the carriage, and then, carrying a bouquet of white lilies, walked toward Armand's house. He knocked gently on the door, and after a while, he heard hurried footsteps approaching. Then the door opened a crack, and a green eye peeked out through the gap. The door was then pulled open even wider, revealing Fanny's face.

"Is this Mr. Bonaparte? You've come here to..." Fanny said, noticing the bouquet in Joseph's hand.

"Mom and Dad don't know about my brother yet..." Fanny said in a low voice.

"Ah..." Joseph looked at the flower in his hand, wanting to put it on the ground, but that didn't seem appropriate; he wanted to put it behind his back, but that didn't seem to make any difference either.

"Give it to me," Fanny whispered, as she opened all the doors.

She took the bouquet from Joseph and hid it behind a table with a broken leg in the gatehouse. Joseph noticed that Fanny was much thinner than the last time he saw her, which made her appear even taller.

"Please just say you're visiting my brother, and pretend you don't know anything about him yet," Fanny said. "My mother isn't feeling well."

"I understand, I understand," Joseph quickly said.

Just then, a middle-aged or elderly man's voice came from inside. "Fanny, is there a guest? Who is it?"

Fanny quickly turned her head and called inside, "Dad, there's a guest, Mr. Bonaparte, my brother's friend."

Then she turned to Joseph and said, "Mr. Bonaparte, please come in with me."

Joseph followed Fanny into the Rococo-style building. Perhaps due to neglect, the house appeared even more dilapidated than when Joseph had last visited. In later years, with a little renovation, Fanny might be able to declare, "I have a haunted house."

Upon entering the hall, Joseph found it surprisingly clean and spacious. The marble floor, though badly worn, was still spotless, and the curtains, though old and their patterns completely obscured, were clearly washed clean. As for the spaciousness, some of the furniture that used to be there was gone.

Fanny seemed to notice Joseph looking around, and whispered, "These days, bread is too expensive, so we had to sell some of it..."

"Yes, Miss Fanny, these days have been tough for everyone," Joseph sighed. Although he wasn't short of money or starving after the revolution, the days spent terrified of the guillotine and unable to sleep weren't easy either.

"My father is in the small living room. He has bad leg problems; he suffers from rheumatism and can barely walk, so he has to wait for you there. Please understand, this is not us being arrogant," Fanny explained as she led Joseph into the small living room.

Joseph nodded and said, "I understand. My father wasn't in good health when he was alive."

He also noticed that there seemed to be no servants left in the entire building.

Fanny led Joseph into the small drawing room. Charles Lavoisier was sitting in an old elm rocking chair. He looked much older than the last time she saw him; his hair was completely white, and his beard was sparse. A worn-out, faded blanket covered his knees. Over time, the blanket's fibers had thinned, and in many places, you could even see holes bitten by insects.

"Welcome, Mr. Bonaparte. Please forgive me for not being able to stand up to greet you. Ah, you are the first friend to visit us in the last six months. Please, have a seat." Charles smiled at Joseph and said.

Joseph then sat down in a high-backed chair next to him.

"Mr. Bonaparte, I heard you now hold a high position in the Ministry of War?" Charles asked as Joseph sat down.

"Yes, I'm in the War Department," Joseph replied.

"Ah, good. That rascal Armand has gone to the Army of the North now, I think it's the Fourth Army, commanded by General Joubert, the one who just repelled the Austria not long ago."

At this point, a slightly embarrassed smile appeared on Charles's face:

"Mr. Bonaparte, you are Armand's friend. I didn't object when Armand went to the north. A man should always make his own decisions. Besides, at that time I felt that although the northern front was dangerous, there weren't many places in the world more dangerous than Paris at that time. Don't you think so?"

To be honest, Charles's support for his son's decision was not wrong. At that time, Paris was indeed very dangerous, especially for those with aristocratic status who were deeply involved in politics.

"You're right," Joseph replied.

"Yes, but Paris is safe now. Robespierre has finally been beheaded. To be honest, Robespierre did do some good things. If he hadn't wiped out all those Jews, there probably wouldn't be a single piece of furniture left in this house. Now that all my creditors are dead, I should really shout 'Long live Robespierre!'" Charles chuckled, then coughed violently again, and Fanny quickly went to pour him a glass of water.

"Oh, Fanny, look at you...you haven't even poured Mr. Bonaparte a cup of tea yet. Go and pour Bonaparte a cup of tea," Charles said reproachfully.

Fanny nodded and turned to go pour tea. Charles watched Fanny walk away, then said to Joseph, "Mr. Bonaparte, we were just talking... ah, talking about how Paris is safe now, so... so I was thinking, could you perhaps find a way to transfer Armand back from the north? You know, it's not that I'm unpatriotic, but rather, I only have one son. A few days ago, Armand's mother had a dream, a dream that..."

"Dad, what nonsense are you spouting again! Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you?" A voice rang out, Charles turned around to see Fanny standing behind him, holding a teapot.

"Don't you care about talking nonsense? Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you?" Fanny continued, pouring Joseph some tea. "I've told you before, dreams are all fake. Besides, didn't you receive a letter from your brother a few days ago, and he sent you money? He's doing well up north, why do you insist on bringing him back?"

As Joseph took the teacup, he noticed calluses on Fanny's hands—clearly, this was the girl who was now shouldering the burden of the entire family.

"Sigh, sigh, I just don't understand what you young people are thinking!" Charles waved his hand in frustration. "One of you is a fool who's fearless and does whatever's dangerous; and the other one, she's practically an old maid now, she's such a worry!"

"Dad!" Fanny was just handing a teacup to Joseph when she heard this. She handed the teacup to Joseph, straightened up, and said sternly.

"Alright, alright, my little Fanny is angry. I won't say anything more." Charles shook his head. "Oh, Mr. Bonaparte, I'm sorry to have to make you laugh. My household has been in complete chaos since the revolution... The only good thing is that we no longer have to worry about aristocratic decorum. Damn it... Well, Mr. Bonaparte, you're a big shot now, you could ask Armand to persuade him..."

"If I could, I would," Joseph said. "But you know, Armand can be a bit stubborn at times. And he has a lot of romantic tendencies, so I doubt my persuasion would work. For example, my brother is already a general, but he still likes to charge ahead all the time. I can't even control him..."

"Sigh, young people are all like this, so disobedient," Charles sighed. "Sigh, think about Armand, he's not a child anymore. When I was his age, Armand was already crawling all over the place. But this rascal is still causing trouble. Because of him, some of our old friends don't associate with us anymore. Sigh, many of my old friends don't come anymore. Well, they're all on the guillotine, they can't come. If they really did come, even though I have rheumatism, I can jump up and run as fast as I can."

Charles suddenly laughed.

"Dad, what you're saying is getting more and more absurd," Fanny said, frowning.

"Fanny, it's been almost half a year since Daddy has seen anyone other than you and your mother," Charles said. "I'm unusually happy. More than ten years ago, when you couldn't walk and Charles couldn't count, our house was never this quiet. Back then, your mother's salon was the talk of the town in Paris ..."

"Come on, Dad, stop bragging. If you keep going, you're going to say that Mom's salon is Madame du Barry's salon," Fanny added.

"Alright, Fanny. I didn't mean it that way, but those were truly wonderful times... Mr. Bonaparte, look at us now, it's so quiet and deserted. My friends don't come anymore, and Armand's friends, except for you, no one comes. Look how empty the house is, it's making my Fanny feel like an old maid..."

"Dad..."

"Fanny, you want me to say that when your mother was your age, Charles was already calling her 'Mom'..."

Old Charles talked on and on for a long time, with Joseph listening attentively. It wasn't until nearly noon that old Charles became visibly tired, and Joseph finally got up to say goodbye. Fanny saw him out, and just as they stepped out of the small living room, Charles's voice came from behind. "Mr. Bonaparte, don't you think Fanny is a very nice girl...?"