Apology Letter

The two men had been waiting in the side hall for almost an hour. President Edward grew increasingly worried, because if the Anglican Church and the France hadn't reached an agreement, their conversation should have ended quickly—after all, when people don't see eye to eye, a word is too much. But now they had been talking for at least a hour. It seemed like they were haggling. And the very act of haggling meant they had something to discuss.

Fortunately, no one was around, so President Edward quietly shared his concerns with Dr. James.

Dr. James knew that President Edward was telling him all this simply to try and find some advantages for his side compared to the Anglican Church. So he thought for a moment and then replied, "President, I think there's one thing the Anglican Church can't compare to us in."

Tell me about it...

"They can't really change their stance," James said.

"That's right!" President Edward slapped his thigh. "You're right. No matter what the exchange of benefits is, the Anglican Church and the France will always be rivals. The Anglican Church can't truly side with the France, and the France can't truly trust the Anglican Church. In fact, the benefits the Anglican Church can offer in exchange are very limited. And... this matter... James, I think that given our size, we shouldn't be the France's real target. They have such a huge advantage now... whether this advantage comes from precise calculations or just good luck, such an advantage shouldn't be used against a small target like us. Who is the France's real target?"

Neither of them spoke, but both knew the answer in their hearts. For France, Britain was by no means a friendly nation, and for Britain, the same was true. Both countries would gladly seize any opportunity to weaken their rival. If this whole affair was truly orchestrated by the France, then the extent of their effort and the conspiracy they planned must have been far more than just a plot against a small organization like themselves.

Of course, this doesn't mean they're safe. It's like a carriage wheel's target is never some overconfident dung beetle, but that doesn't mean the wheel won't crush the dung beetle that happens to be in its way. Well, that's called—destroying you, what's it to you?

Therefore, the most important thing for the England Medical Association was not to be directly in the way of the wheels. However, the problem now was that they seemed to be right in the way of the wheels.

Now the wheels are already rumbling down on them, and there's no time to dodge. Their only hope is to get the wheels to willingly turn for them. But to get the wheels to turn for them, they must demonstrate their worth, to make the wheels see them as their own. Or to put it more bluntly, in the struggle between Britain and France, they must make themselves de facto traitors to save themselves.

However, neither of them felt much guilt about it, or rather, they quickly hypnotized themselves. "France's strength has proven the correctness of the France path. We are not betraying Britain, but rather trying to push the stubborn Britain onto the truly correct path."

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door to the side hall. Then, the waiter who had just received money from Chairman Edward gently pushed the door open.

"Editor-in-Chief Mabeuf requests your presence," the waiter replied.

The two followed the waiter out and into the reception room of Editor-in-Chief Mabeuf.

Editor-in-Chief Mabeuf was very courteous to their arrival, taking the initiative to greet them and leading them to the sofa. Once everyone sat down, he asked solicitously, "Would you two like something? Black tea or coffee?"

"Let's have black tea then," President Edward suggested.

"Indeed, I've never encountered anyone in Britain who chose coffee over coffee," Mabeuf laughed. "Actually, if you two had chosen coffee, I don't really have any good coffee here."

Edward and the others laughed along. However, Mabeuf's laughter was genuine, while Edward and the others' laughter seemed much more forced.

"Gentlemen, in the midst of your busy schedules, you have suddenly come to see me. Is there anything I can do for you?" Mabeuf asked.

"It's like this..." Edward chose his words carefully, then said, "You must know about the recent controversy caused by Miss Bonaparte's travelogue."

Mabeuf did not speak, but simply nodded to indicate that he was aware of it.

"You know, at first, we, especially our Dr. James, said some very impolite and excessive things to Miss Bonaparte without knowing her identity. Dr. James felt very ashamed about this, so..."

"Therefore, I hope to convey my apologies to Miss Bonaparte through you, esteemed editor-in-chief," James quickly said.

"Ah, there's no need to worry too much," said Mabeuf. "You don't understand Miss Bonaparte. Although she is a young lady, Bonaparte is a very magnanimous one. She wouldn't hold such trivial matters against you. You should have read her travelogue. In it, Miss Bonaparte mentioned that she had also said some rather harsh things, and indicated that it was perhaps these excessive words that led to the misunderstanding. So you see, Miss Bonaparte didn't blame you..."

"No, no, no," James quickly said, "Miss Bonaparte's magnanimity is admirable, but I was wrong in this matter. Miss Bonaparte didn't say anything wrong. Anyone as kind as her would find it hard not to be moved by the terrible scene in the hospital. It's just that I was too rigid and arrogant to listen to Miss Bonaparte's correct advice. Looking back now, I am truly ashamed..."

"Editor-in-Chief Mabeuf," President Edward said, "It wasn't just Dr. James who made this mistake. The entire England Medical Association, including myself, made a mistake on this issue. We were so proud and complacent that if we hadn't seen the article in this latest issue of * the Lancet *, we wouldn't even be aware of our error now. To minimize the harm our mistake caused to our patients... Good heavens... if we had listened to Miss Bonaparte's advice, if we hadn't been so proud, how many lives we could have saved!"

At this point, President Edward couldn't help but shed tears of regret, and his voice choked with emotion.

"Editor-in-Chief Mabeuf, I hope to publish an open letter through your newspaper to publicly apologize to Miss Bonaparte and express our remorse. Furthermore, we have discovered that France medicine is now far ahead of the rest of the world. If we do not wish to become barbarians left behind by the times, we must seize the time to learn from France. You are a very influential person in France. I wonder if you could help us contact France medical schools; we plan to arrange for some doctors to study under France physicians. We also want to invite some France experts to give lectures in Britain, and we would like to invite some senior experts to serve as directors of our association to guide us in improving our hospital and training and evaluating our personnel."

Mabeuf laughed, "President Edward, it's never too late to pursue scientific truth. I see your passion for science and admire it from the bottom of my heart. We can arrange for your open letter to be published, and I believe Miss Bonaparte will see it. As for sending people to study in France and hiring France experts..."

"This matter is extremely important, as it concerns the well-being of countless patients. If you, Editor-in-Chief, have any connections, please help us. We are grateful people..."

"Ah, President Edward, you know, the media outlet with the closest ties to the France medical and academic communities isn't us, but * the Lancet *. They have many such channels. However, as you know, * the Lancet * is too difficult to understand, and only a limited number of people can comprehend it, so their circulation has never been high. Their sales can't support the magazine's expenses. And they don't want the magazine to become too commercialized—you know, scholars are always a bit aloof."

"That's how it should be, that's how it should be," Edward said repeatedly. "This is what a person dedicated to scholarship should be like; it's truly admirable. Ah, Editor-in-Chief Mabeuf, please continue."

"It's like this, I don't know if you know, but the Lancet is able to continue operating entirely thanks to donations from experts who love science and are passionate about public welfare. Because of this, they have very close relationships with those experts. If you want to arrange for doctors in England to learn new medical techniques, it's much easier to contact them than me. After all, like you, they are the most professional, aren't they?"

"Thank you so much," President Edward said, taking a large envelope from his coat pocket and handing it to Mabeuf with both hands. "Mr. Mabeuf, this is an open letter from our England Medical Association, apologizing to Miss Bonaparte."

Mabeuf took the unusually thick envelope, but did not open it immediately. Instead, he said, "Gentlemen, rest assured, we will arrange the layout as soon as possible."

"It would be best if it were on the front page," President Edward said, standing up. "We are willing to pay for publishing this letter on the front page. Also, I need to get to the editorial office of * the Lancet * immediately, so I won't bother the editor-in-chief any longer."

Mabeuf then stood up and escorted the two men to the door, watching them board the carriage before turning back. Edward and James, on the other hand, went directly to the editorial office of * the Lancet *.