Misdirecting Disaster and the Clouds of Revolution

Joseph submitted the "Four Color Theorem" to the Academy of Sciences, and it indeed stumped those fellows, including Laplace. Everyone studied it for a while, but no one could produce a solution, or even a viable line of reasoning for the time being. Since everyone, including Laplace, had their own research to attend to and couldn't spend all their time on such a problem, the Academy eventually did as Joseph suggested and published the problem, soliciting solutions from the entire world.

Joseph had originally thrown out this problem to trap Marat. Based on Joseph's experience from his past life, generally speaking, "crank" science was quite common in physics and chemistry, but very rare in mathematics. However, what he hadn't expected was that the reason there were fewer mathematical cranks in later generations was that the mathematical problems themselves were no longer something those cranks could even understand. Thus, the scarcity of mathematical cranks in later times wasn't due to any sense of awe they held for mathematics, but because they couldn't even comprehend the questions!

But the "Four Color Theorem" happened to be a problem that everyone—including cranks like Marat—could understand. So, as soon as the notice of the reward was posted, the Academy immediately received a paper sent by Marat, which supposedly solved the problem perfectly. Laplace took one glance at it and immediately spotted seven or eight errors. Naturally, the paper then went exactly where it belonged.

However, Marat refused to give up and sent this "paper" to Joseph as well. In his letter, he expressed his belief that Joseph would surely see the value of his work. Suddenly, Joseph realized that he had been too clever for his own good; he had dug a hole only to bury himself in it.

Marat's "paper," like all "crank papers," was riddled with all sorts of problems, from flawed derivations to conceptual errors—it had everything. Joseph, likewise, only needed a glance to find seven or eight issues.

If Napoleon or any of my other students had written this, I would have tanned their hides! Joseph cursed through gritted teeth while agonizing over how to reply to Marat.

Finding anything "valuable" in this "paper" is truly difficult. If I must say there is something "valuable" in it, it would have to be his fearless courage. After all, ignorance is bliss. Joseph couldn't help but complain to himself.

But in the reply, I can't just keep praising his "courage," can I? Marat is indeed a crank, but he isn't a fool. If I praise him like that, he will surely think I am mocking him.

Consequently, Joseph had to study Marat's error-ridden "paper" over and over again until he finally found something worth praising: "Hmm, although the derivation in this section isn't rigorous, some of the ideas are quite interesting. Ah, I'll just start by heavily blowing smoke about this part."

Thus, Joseph began writing his reply to Marat. In this letter, Joseph used two full pages just to praise that small section of Marat's analysis. The tone of the praise was so sycophantic that it even gave himself goosebumps.

The level of my obsequiousness is almost catching up to the King of Lotus Roots, isn't it? I never imagined I would do this just to make a living. Sigh, earning money is business; it's nothing to be ashamed of. Joseph continued writing his reply while mocking himself.

Now it's time for the transition, time for a "however." Thinking this, Joseph wrote: "However, this paper still contains a few minor issues. For instance, in... Mr. Laplace believes that the argument here contains logical loopholes and overlooks... You may not know this, but those who study mathematics are somewhat paranoid. Mr. Laplace is extremely paranoid about such problems, and therefore, he believes this paper has not successfully proven the conjecture..."

He finished the "however" in a few sentences and conveniently shifted the blame onto Laplace. Joseph then completed his reply, carefully blotted the excess ink with blotting paper, sealed the letter, and sent it off. As for how much Marat would resent Laplace after receiving the letter, that was no longer his concern. Considering how much Laplace's theories had given him a headache in his past life, Joseph felt his conscience clear up instantly.

This tactic indeed worked. Not long after, Marat sent a reply, expressing his gratitude for the affirmation, voicing his anger toward those "hidebound fellows" at the Academy, and hinting that once he came to power one day, he would surely drive those people out of the Academy. At that time, he would let young, pioneering men like Joseph take charge of the Academy, which he believed would surely make the science of France shine brilliantly.

Is this a case of "If one day I become the Green Emperor, I shall command the peach blossoms to bloom with the spring"? Joseph couldn't help but laugh.

Marat did indeed have a day when he would rise, but that was a matter for the future. And as things stood, even if he did rise, he wouldn't hold much malice toward Joseph. So, for the time being, the matter of the crank Marat could largely be put to rest. Now, Joseph could refocus his attention on his younger brothers.

Napoleon no longer required much of Joseph's effort; he had returned to Corsica and wouldn't be back for a while. As for Louis, he was still young, so Joseph had entrusted someone to find a good primary school for him to attend. And as for Lucien, Joseph had arranged for him to enter his own alma mater—the Louis-le-Grand School.

Lucien's performance at the Louis-le-Grand School was certainly not as conspicuous as Joseph's had been, but he was doing well in his studies and also showed promise in public speaking and acting. Joseph had since stepped down as the screenwriter for the Dragon and Rose Troupe, but his connection to the troupe remained. Relying on this relationship, he had Lucien occasionally guest-star in a few roles. According to Director Thenardier, "He is a natural-born actor." However, Joseph had never seen Lucien perform in person, so he didn't know how much exaggeration there was in Thenardier's words.

In addition, Joseph had hired an Austrian musician named Frazer to teach Lucien the piano. According to this musician, although Lucien had started learning the piano a bit late, he had good talent, and if he were willing to put in the effort, he would have a chance to reach a level where he could perform on stage in the future.

In truth, Joseph didn't require Lucien to reach such a level. In his vision, Lucien would be responsible for cultural propaganda in the future; he didn't need to be proficient in every art, just have a passing familiarity with them.

However, Lucien seemed to have a genuine talent for these things. He had even recently written a few short plays and composed a few small melodies himself. Joseph had seen and heard these works; honestly, they weren't outstanding, but they were passable.

It was precisely because of these performances that Armand simply pulled him into his "Spartacus Creation Group," often dragging him out on weekends to discuss script issues.

Time slipped away just like that. In the blink of an eye, it was 1789. Over the past two years, France's finances had reached a point of no return, and King Louis XVI had no choice but to propose tax increases to avoid the total bankruptcy of the royal government. French society was divided into three estates: the clergy, the nobility, and the commoners. The first two estates possessed vast social wealth but bore little of the tax burden. Naturally, these two estates firmly opposed tax increases on themselves, and with the political power they wielded, they certainly had the strength to resist. Thus, the only target for tax increases was, naturally, the Third Estate.

To increase taxes, the King had to reconvene the Estates-General, which had been suspended for one hundred and seventy-five years, in search of a solution to the financial crisis.

"The King of France is an idiot. He actually came up with the incredibly stupid idea of convening the Estates-General at a time like this!" In a letter to Joseph, Napoleon mercilessly mocked the French King. "Does he not know how much dissatisfaction and resentment the Third Estate already harbors toward him? If he didn't convene the Estates-General, these angers would remain hidden, and there wouldn't be any great danger for the time being. But he went and convened some Estates-General! Does he not know this will give those who oppose him a chance to organize? Individuals are always timid and weak; even if they harbor resentment in their hearts, they dare not do anything. But once they gather together and have an organization, they gain courage and strength, and they dare to fight against lions or even dragons. People are like locusts; when they are not in swarms, they are merely grasshoppers not worth mentioning, but once they swarm, they are unstoppable locusts. And that idiot has foolishly given those who oppose him such an opportunity—a chance for them to unite and transform from grasshoppers into locusts. That idiot must think that the fellows of the Third Estate will obediently cough up money if they are just intimidated, or at most, even if they refuse to pay, they won't be able to cause any trouble. Yet, there are others watching from the sidelines like tigers..."

Joseph completely agreed with Napoleon's assessment. In fact, as the representatives of the Third Estate gradually gathered in Paris, the entire city became restless. Some pamphlets began to circulate among the citizens. Some of these pamphlets introduced the citizens to information regarding the Estates-General, though these "facts" were mostly biased, focusing on which taxes the King intended to increase and how he planned to further exploit everyone. Such propaganda made the already struggling commoners of Paris deeply anxious.

Meanwhile, due to a widespread spring drought in the northern provinces and fears of a potential major crop failure, grain merchants—starting with those under the command of a few great nobles and eventually almost all of them—began to hoard their grain. Less grain was being sold on the market, and prices naturally climbed. This price hike further stimulated the practice of hoarding, and the continuously rising grain prices made Paris full of complaints. Just at this moment, Armand came to find Joseph once again.