For the next few days, things followed much the same pattern: first, they bought two stagecoach tickets, then spent the day traveling to another city or town a little closer to Paris. They found a monastery to spend the night in—or an inn, if there wasn't one—then bought another stagecoach ticket...
And so, on the evening of the tenth day, Alfonso and Joseph finally arrived in the capital of France, Paris.
The stagecoach rolled along dusty streets, then finally stopped on a street called Rue de la Neige. It lay on the outskirts of Paris. On one side stood the gloomy Convent of the Congregation of Perpetual Adoration, like a tomb. On the other were ramshackle, haphazardly built houses where the poor lived.
That was as far as the stagecoach went. To continue onward, passengers had to spend more money to transfer to a public carriage. If they didn't have much money, they had to rely on their own two legs.
Their destination was still a long way off, and the area wasn't very safe, so Alfonso took Joseph onto a public carriage. After another half hour or so, they arrived at the magnificent Sainte-Geneviève Cathedral.
After the Revolution broke out, the revolutionary government would confiscate the cathedral and convert it into a cemetery for great figures. That was the famous Panthéon. But at this time, Sainte-Geneviève Cathedral still belonged to the Catholic Church and remained an important church. It wasn't Joseph's destination, but it was Brother Alfonso's. He took Joseph inside, told him to wait in the reception room, then went to deliver the letter to the bishop.
Joseph waited in the reception room for a little while before Brother Alfonso returned.
"All right, I've delivered the letter. Now I'll take you to see Father Jean-Jacques."
The little church where Father Jean-Jacques lived was still some distance away. By then, the public carriages had stopped running, so the two of them followed the roads lit by whale-oil lamps and walked there. They walked for nearly an hour, until the moon had climbed high in the sky, before reaching a small church. Moonlight slanted across the steps in front of it.
Alfonso led Joseph up the steps and knocked softly on the door. Before long, Joseph saw light leaking through a gap in the door wide enough for a little finger. Then came a loud clatter of footsteps descending from the upper floor, followed by a steady thumping all the way to the front door. From the sound of it, whoever was coming didn't walk like a person, but like a grizzly bear.
"Just a moment, I'll open the door... Damn it, Nanon, why's this bolt stuck... Ah, please wait a little longer, it'll be open in a second..." A gruff voice came from inside.
But the door didn't open as quickly as he'd promised. A commotion came from within; someone yanked hard at the door, but it still wouldn't budge. Then came another complaint: "Damn it, what's wrong with this thing? Why won't it open... Ah, just wait a little longer..."
Another ten minutes or so passed. Then there was a click from inside, and the door was suddenly pulled open. A gust of wind blew out.
Joseph looked inside and saw a fat man who was about as tall as he was, but at least two or three times his girth. In Joseph's eyes, the man could have played the King of the Hill in a later age without needing any makeup. Beside him stood someone dressed like a housekeeper, holding a candlestick in one hand and shielding the flame with the other so the wind wouldn't blow it out.
"Alfonso! Ha ha, you finally made it. Hmm, how's the old man?" boomed the King of the Hill, his laughter so loud that the birds sleeping in the tree nearby took flight in fright.
"Father Jean-Jacques, the bishop is doing very well," Alfonso said. "Also, besides asking me to bring Joseph here, the bishop asked me to pass along a message to you."
"What did the old man say?" the King of the Hill asked.
"The bishop asked me to tell you that gluttony is one of the sins," Alfonso replied calmly.
"The old man..." The King of the Hill's voice sank. He muttered something under his breath, apparently complaining, but Joseph couldn't make out a word.
"All right, stop complaining. Let me introduce you. This is Joseph, the old man's—bishop's godson. He's the one who's going to study at Lycée Louis-le-Grand..." Alfonso said.
"Ah, I know. Hmm, come on in, you two. This damn door... Nanon, move that cabinet over there. We'll use it to block the door for tonight..."
"Yes, Father. But that cabinet... It would be best if you helped me move it..."
"Honestly... I've told you, you need to eat more, eat more. How can you have any strength if you don't eat? You can't even move a cabinet..."
This was where Joseph would live for the next few years.
Passing the entrance exam for Lycée Louis-le-Grand wasn't difficult for Joseph, so he soon received an offer of admission. He planned to study there for a few years and meet more people, building connections for the future. Then, before the Revolution broke out, he'd leave Paris first—at that time, the city would be in utter chaos, and whether you lived or died often came down to luck rather than anything else—and head to the provinces. While the Girondins were in power, he'd use his ability to "foresee" certain events to speculate and hoard goods, earning the first pot of gold for himself and his family.
After that, he could hide behind his "foolish brother" and raise his family to the position of Europe's foremost dynasty. Of course, he'd also have to find a way to stop that "foolish brother" from doing something stupid and suicidal in Spain, especially in Russia. To stop him, Joseph would need enough clout. He couldn't remain the same useless man from history, whom Napoleon regarded as a king of Spain only because he himself had made it possible.
"My foolish brother is an arrogant, conceited, and imperious fellow. It won't be easy to put the brakes on him."
Time passed slowly according to Joseph's plans. He did well at school and smoothly earned a full scholarship. He also built a good reputation among small circles of literature lovers and natural science enthusiasts. On top of that, he sometimes took on translation work and other odd jobs, earning a few francs. So, besides covering his own expenses, he could even set aside some money... Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but then a letter arrived in Joseph's hands.
The letter brought Joseph some terrible news: his father was sick, and seriously so. The family's finances were therefore extremely strained. Joseph's studies and living expenses didn't cost his family anything, but it was no longer enough for him simply to avoid asking them for money. Napoleon's living expenses, along with the living and education costs of his other younger siblings, had become a problem. The letter from home said they hoped he would find a job as soon as possible and take on the burden of supporting his younger brothers and sisters.
Dropping out immediately was obviously not a good idea; it would hurt his entire plan. So the best option was to earn more money while keeping up with his studies.
"Ugh, how could I forget about the Bonaparte Family's hereditary stomach cancer?" Joseph thought.
The Bonaparte Family had long been plagued by hereditary stomach cancer, especially its male members. Among Joseph and his brothers, he was practically the only one who hadn't come down with it. Of course, Joseph knew that cancer was like a roll of the dice. The fact that he hadn't gotten stomach cancer in the original timeline didn't mean he wouldn't get it now. He really would have to be careful from here on out. For instance, in the original timeline, his father wasn't diagnosed with stomach cancer until a year later. But in this timeline, it had unexpectedly come early.
What remained was figuring out how to shoulder the burden of the family. But what could he do to increase his income effectively? A job was out of the question. He'd never work a job in his life. As things stood, Joseph could barely get by on his scholarship. There was also attending all sorts of salon gatherings. Going to salons was like going home; the atmosphere was even better than at home, and everyone there was talented, with pleasant things to say. So Joseph could only go to those gatherings and see if he could find a way to make money.
"Joseph, what are you looking at? You don't look well," a voice said.
Joseph turned his head and saw a young man with a few freckles on his face, looking at him with concern.
This was Joseph's classmate, Armand René de Lavoisier. He was a young man with a bit of an artistic streak, and he had an uncle whose name would be remembered throughout human history. Unlike his famous uncle, Armand had almost no talent for the natural sciences. But he was very good at the arts, and was even one of the pillars of the student theater troupe at Lycée Louis-le-Grand.
"Oh, Armand. It's nothing. I just got a letter saying my father is sick. Hmm, it may affect my finances for a while," Joseph said, putting away the letter in his hands.
"Joseph, your father must be very ill, right?" Armand walked over to the bench where Joseph was sitting and sat beside him. The midday breeze swept through the Operation Parasol Tree above their heads, rustling its leaves.
"I know you have a full scholarship, and you live in a church, so your expenses can't be very high. You don't need money from your family at all. So whatever's made you look like this, it can't be a financial problem," Armand said as he took out a small bottle. He unscrewed the cap and carefully poured some liquid into it. Then he asked Joseph, "Would you like some too?"
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