Tranquil Times

"Hey, Napoleon, aren't you supposed to be great at math? How come you couldn't solve a single problem today?" On the way to the library, a classmate caught up from behind and shouted at Napoleon with a grin.

Napoleon frowned but remained silent. Instead, another classmate beside him retorted indignantly, "Bonnefoy, those problems were genuinely too difficult. I dare say, even though Professor Joseph explained them at the end, if you were given the original problems, you still wouldn't be able to solve them. Because you wouldn't even be able to understand the questions!"

"So what? I never bragged about being good at math." Bonnefoy laughed heartily. "We have Military Geometry again in two days. Let's see if our math genius fails to solve a single problem then, too!"

As Bonnefoy laughed, he turned onto a different path—aristocratic students like him, who were only there to gild their resumes, would never honestly go to the library for self-study after class.

"Napoleon, you don't need to pay any attention to guys like that. They're just incompetent themselves, and they still..." the classmate beside Napoleon said, watching Bonnefoy's retreating figure.

"Anderson, I don't care about them at all. It's you who are too worked up," Napoleon said. "If a dog barks at you, what do you do? You either ignore it, or you pick up a big stick and give it a good beating. Right? But what about you just now? You actually tried to out-shout a dog. That is truly..."

"You have a point," Anderson said, scratching his head. "If I had a big stick in my hand, I would have hit it on the nose without a second thought. But the problem is, I don't have a big enough stick. You know, he may be a vicious dog, but he's a dog with a title, and as for me... the stick in his hand is bigger than mine. If I just charged in, I'd likely lose to that vicious dog, but staying silent made me too angry to bear. So, I had no choice but to trade insults with it."

"My brother once said," Napoleon remarked, frowning slightly, "don't argue with a fool, because he will drag you down to his level and then beat you with his extensive experience in being a fool. Even though that guy is a jerk, what he said makes a lot of sense."

At this point, Napoleon couldn't help but grit his teeth.

Indeed, Joseph was truly too much of a jerk. During class, he first used the excuse of gauging everyone's current math level to pose several problems, then "randomly" called on students to answer them on the blackboard. The earlier problems were very simple; even a fool wouldn't get them wrong—and indeed, the fools didn't. But at the end, Joseph brought out one more problem—damn it, that problem wasn't actually hard, it just had an inconspicuous trap hidden in the conditions and some intentionally misleading language. Then, Napoleon was called up, and because he was full of wariness toward Joseph, he overthought the problem and failed to solve it within the allotted time. Joseph then politely asked Napoleon to return to his seat and proceeded to demonstrate the correct solution in an extremely concise manner—a method so simple that even those fools could understand it, and they all developed the illusion that they could have done it too. (A common feeling for poor students when facing many math problems is: "I understand it when I hear it, I get it when I see it, but I get it wrong when I do it." Of course, if they had actually used their brains while Napoleon was racking his on the blackboard, they might have realized the problem wasn't that simple, but the reason they were poor students was precisely because they avoided using their brains whenever possible.)

Then, near the end of class, Joseph posed another problem to "check everyone's grasp of today's material." He used the excuse of being the "only one who failed to answer the previous problem" to call on Napoleon again. This problem, however, was genuinely difficult. As a result, until the end of class, Napoleon still hadn't solved it. (Damn it, there were only two or three minutes left until the end of class; how could anyone possibly solve it?)

This guy is truly a jerk! I must study hard; I cannot let this jerk be so smug! Napoleon secretly encouraged himself in his heart.

The two continued talking as they walked into the library.

Taking advantage of the remaining daylight, the two borrowed two books from the stacks and went to the reading room to study. To ensure the safety of the books, fire and candles were strictly prohibited in the stacks, so the stacks became unusable as soon as it grew dark. (In the era before the invention of the electric light, this was the case for almost every library in the world.) However, the reading room of the Paris Military Academy provided free lighting—as long as one had a student ID, one could request a white candle mounted on an iron candlestick, so the reading room remained usable at night.

Napoleon and Anderson collected their candle, took their books into the reading room, and prepared to find a brighter spot by the window to read before it got dark. After all, the duration a single candle could provide was quite limited.

Just then, a person who had been reading with their head down at a table by the large floor-to-ceiling window suddenly looked up and called out to them, "Napoleon, come over here!"

Napoleon looked over and saw Joseph watching him with a full smile.

"Shit!" Napoleon gritted his teeth, but he walked over anyway.

"Professor Joseph, good day," Anderson bowed politely.

"Anderson, did you understand everything taught today?" Joseph asked with a smile.

"Professor, at first I thought I understood, but when I saw that last problem, I felt I didn't understand at all. Even now, I haven't the slightest clue about that problem," Anderson replied.

"There is indeed a great distance between mastering basic knowledge and learning how to apply it practically," Joseph nodded. He then turned to Napoleon, "So, Napoleon, have you figured out how to solve that problem now?"

"I know how to solve it now," Napoleon said, somewhat unconvinced. "In fact, if you had given me just a little more time back then, I would have solved it."

"The speed of solving a problem is also a reflection of one's mastery of the knowledge," Joseph countered.

"So, for the same problem, your speed is only two-thirds that of Monsieur Monge?" Napoleon couldn't help but retort.

This response exceeded Joseph's expectations. He frowned and said, "In terms of calculation, Monsieur Monge is indeed much better than I am. However, in my view, my calculation speed is sufficient to support my research. But Napoleon, if you hope to pass your graduation exams early, your current problem-solving ability is not quite enough."

"Ah, Napoleon, you want to graduate early?" Anderson was startled.

"Yes, my family is in financial distress, and I need to earn money as soon as possible," Napoleon said. "Besides, I also hope to enter the army as soon as possible, rather than spending all day here watching those foolish Parisian aristocrats."

"I agree with your sentiment, but I will not lower the standards for my subject. Napoleon, if you truly hope to graduate early, you should at least possess the level that a real graduate ought to have," Joseph said again.

Napoleon understood that the "real graduate" Joseph spoke of did not include those high-ranking aristocrats there to gild their resumes, and perhaps not even the average graduate. That "real graduate" likely referred to an "outstanding graduate." However, this high requirement did not make Napoleon feel resentful, because in his view, meeting such a standard was only right and proper.

"Napoleon, if you want to graduate early, you must be very excellent," Joseph continued. "I have heard of your plans, so I have prepared a set of practice problems for you."

As he spoke, Joseph reached into a bag beside him, pulled out a small notebook, and handed it to Napoleon.

"Do them well!" Joseph said, then lowered his head to continue reading.

The days that followed were very peaceful; Joseph spent his time lecturing, preparing lessons, and reading. Sometimes he even wrote letters to discuss certain mathematical problems with Monge and Laplace. He also published a few more papers one after another. Besides that, having solved his own financial problems, Joseph brought his younger brother, Lucien, to Paris and arranged for him to enroll at Lycée Louis-le-Grand.

As for Napoleon, he had already submitted a request to the school to take his graduation exams early. For this reason, he was studying frantically.

The days passed slowly, and the skirt of the Spring Goddess fluttered, departing without even a decent spring rain. After a dry spring, a dry summer followed.

Bread prices in Paris rose again, a full quarter higher than at the end of last year.

This price hike was still within Joseph's ability to bear, but for the average commoner, it was devastating. Parisians of this era did not yet have the habit of taking to the streets for protests at every turn; those who could no longer survive in Paris through normal means left one after another, heading to the countryside or simply seeking a way out in the Americas. Others who could not survive through normal means took the path of surviving through abnormal means, such as theft or even robbery.

However, these things still did not threaten Joseph; he rarely left the school, and the claws of such thieves could not reach him. In fact, thieves and robbers alike could only cause real harm to those living at the very bottom of society. As for the upper classes—not to mention the high-and-mighty aristocrats, even the so-called "middle class" could not be easily harmed by these people. This is one of the reasons why some later "social justice warriors" could ignore the various problems brought about by declining public safety while continuing to preach from their high horses.