With complex feelings, Lionel shook hands with the two young Chinese students.
He could feel that both their palms were quite rough and very strong—marks left by long-term seafaring and training.
Following the tradition of British naval training, they must have practiced on old-fashioned sailing warships.
Lionel switched to English and said,
"It's a pleasure to meet you both. Actually, you can just call me Lionel."
A flash of surprise crossed Yan Fu and Sa Zhenbing's eyes.
They hadn't expected Lionel to be willing to converse with them in English, and to be so friendly.
Sa Zhenbing showed a sincere smile:
"Lionel, how is your recovery? I read in the British newspapers that you unfortunately fell ill in London."
Lionel smiled somewhat awkwardly:
"Thank you for your concern, I've fully recovered. I can only say that London's air... well, it's certainly unique."
This remark drew a knowing smile from Sa Zhenbing:
"Indeed! The Thames River... At every low tide, it reminds people of its presence with its strong smell. When my brother Yan and I first arrived in England, it took us a long time to adapt as well."
Yan Fu also laughed:
"Lionel, please allow me to express my admiration for your work. I have read 'The Old Guard,' and your critique of social injustice impressed me deeply."
Lionel was somewhat surprised:
"You've read my work?"
Yan Fu nodded:
"We both studied English and French—I stumbled upon it in the Greenwich library.
However, what I admire most is your public support for free compulsory education.
I have always believed that if China truly wants to be strong, it must also take this path—allowing every child, regardless of wealth, to receive basic education.
Only by enlightening the populace can the nation be revitalized!"
Lionel keenly noticed that after Yan Fu finished speaking, Sa Zhenbing showed a look of disapproval.
But Yan Fu did not notice his companion's displeasure, instead proposing a request to Lionel:
"Lionel, I even had an idea—I hope to translate your work into Chinese! A story like 'The Old Guard,' although set in France, it's... almost as if it was tailor-made for China. Perhaps Chinese readers can gain some inspiration from it."
Lionel's heart jolted.
Yan Fu indeed later became one of China's most important translators, translating Western classics such as "Evolution and Ethics," influencing generations of Chinese intellectuals.
If his own work were translated into Chinese...
Lionel quickly and sincerely nodded:
"It would be my honor. 'The Old Guard' belongs to France, and it also belongs to China! If you're interested, I can provide authorization and some annotations."
Yan Fu was overjoyed, clasping Lionel's hand tightly:
"Then it's a deal!"
Lionel smiled:
"A gentleman's word, a quadriga cannot overtake it!"
As soon as this phrase was uttered, not only Yan Fu and Sa Zhenbing were stunned, but Chen Jitong was also baffled.
After a while, the three Chinese realized that this meant "A gentleman's word, a four-horse team can hardly overtake it."
"Gentleman" corresponded to "junzi," and "quadriga" was the name of a four-horse chariot in Europe.
Once they understood, the three burst into laughter; Chen Jitong patted Lionel's shoulder:
"Leo, I never thought you were proficient in Chinese idioms!"
Lionel smiled and nodded:
"Just a little..."
At this moment, Lionel looked at the two young faces before him, and the feeling of time and space intertwining made him momentarily dazed.
He seemed to see the long river of history flowing before his eyes, and he stood at a special confluence.
Chen Jitong interjected at the right time:
"It seems you two get along very well—but the dinner is still ongoing, so you two should return to your seats for now; there will be other opportunities."
Sa Zhenbing and Yan Fu politely nodded to Lionel and then returned to their seats.
After Lionel sat down again, Anatole France, who was next to him, leaned over with a curious smile:
"Lionel, you seem to have a particular fondness for Chinese people? That's quite unusual!"
Although Anatole France was a good friend of Chen Jitong, this was a personal friendship—his overall impression of Chinese people was not good.
This was also the mainstream attitude of European intellectuals towards China in that era.
After all, less than twenty years ago, the Anglo-French allied forces marched into Beijing and burned down the Chinese emperor's Summer Palace.
Many Europeans still hid gold, silver, jewels, porcelain, silk, calligraphy, and paintings looted from there in their homes...
After a moment of contemplation, Lionel spoke:
"Thibault, I always believe that any nation and people who do not give up their efforts to strengthen themselves after failure are worthy of respect."
He paused, his gaze turning to Yan Fu and Sa Zhenbing:
"Look, this ancient empire, repeatedly defeated, has sent figures like Guo Songtao and Zeng Jize for diplomacy, and also sent young people like Sa Zhenbing and Yan Fu to study.
Whatever their initial intentions and goals, this has sown the seeds for the resurgence of this nation! It might not be now, or even in the foreseeable future, but that day will surely come."
Anatole France was surprised:
"Lionel, do you hold such a high opinion of China?"
Lionel nodded:
"The greatness of a civilization lies not in never falling, but in rising again after every fall, and even learning from its former adversaries.
China is doing this with difficulty, and although there are obstacles and setbacks in the process, the effort itself is worthy of respect."
Anatole France nodded thoughtfully:
"Your perspective is very interesting. Indeed, acknowledging one's shortcomings and learning from others requires great courage and wisdom. I think I understand why you look at them differently."
The dinner approached its end in an atmosphere of friendly exchange.
Zeng Jize began to rise and give a speech.
He spoke in Chinese, and Chen Jitong translated into French, with appropriate wording:
"Distinguished guests, thank you for your presence tonight. China has an ancient saying, 'Is it not delightful to have friends coming from afar?'
Although France and China are separated by vast oceans, the pursuit of knowledge and beauty is our common language. I hope that through such exchanges, we can deepen our understanding and friendship..."
The brief speech also earned polite applause.
However, Lionel was particularly touched—it was the first time in a long while that he had heard "Chinese."
It even took him a few seconds to realize what Zeng Jize was saying.
After dinner, there was supposed to be a ball.
But Paul Pigouet, editor-in-chief of "Le Petit Parisien," joked:
"I guess the upcoming ball might be too 'passionate' for our Chinese friends? After all, ballroom dancing might be considered indecent in the East."
Indeed, soon the servants skillfully and swiftly removed the dining tables and chairs, replacing them with comfortable sofas and small tables laden with desserts and drinks.
A small stage was temporarily set up in the embassy hall, and several actors in brilliant costumes and with exaggerated face paint took the stage, immediately capturing the attention of all the French present.
Lionel listened for a couple of sentences, realizing they were performing "The Orphan of Zhao," and feeling little interest, he quietly slipped out through a side door to the embassy's back garden for some fresh air.
The September Parisian night was already cool, and the garden was filled with the scent of damp earth and plants.
Lionel was just about to find a bench to sit on when he heard familiar voices from behind a bush—it was Sa Zhenbing and Yan Fu.
However, they were not speaking English or French, nor common "Chinese," but another language Lionel was very familiar with—Pinghua, which is the Fuzhou dialect.
Both were Houguan natives with old residences in Fuzhou, and talking in their hometown dialect clearly indicated they didn't want anyone to know the content of their conversation.
He had intended to go over and greet them, but hearing the content of their talk, he involuntarily stopped in his tracks.
These two figures, who would later be famous in history, were actually having a heated argument!
(End of Chapter)
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