After the hustle and bustle of the first day of school, various schools gradually settled into their routines.
At the well-known "Saint Louis Boys' School" in Paris's 6th arrondissement, fourth-grader Pierre Bélin was frowning at a small booklet spread open on his desk.
His small face was scrunched up, and his large blue eyes were filled with confusion and frustration.
The booklet in front of him had a simple title on its cover: Montiel's Secret Compendium (French Edition · Senior Grades), followed by a smaller line of text:
[Closely aligned with textbooks, dissecting exam points, aiding academic advancement]
Pierre poked at a sentence-making exercise in the booklet with his quill, muttering,
"...'Please make a sentence using "not only... but also..." and demonstrate causal logic.'...
What kind of question is this? Isn't 'The sun not only emits light, but also heat' acceptable? Why does the teacher say it lacks 'profound causal connection'?
Do I have to write something like 'He not only stole bread, but was also sent to prison because of it'? Damn it!"
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, and he shoved Montiel's Secret Compendium away.
This thin booklet had almost become his nightly nightmare these past few days.
Almost everyone in the class had a copy, and even the naughtiest students were discussing the questions after class.
Although Monsieur Ralph, the teacher, orally stated it was "for reference only," the questions he asked in class and the assignments he gave were clearly highly related to the content of this compendium.
Anyone who hadn't bought it, or hadn't diligently worked on it, might as well have come to class without their ears.
At this moment, Monsieur Ralph's authoritative voice seemed to ring in his ears again:
"Pierre, where is your homework?"
Pierre sighed, pulled the booklet back, bit his pen, and continued to rack his brains.
——————
In the evening, the door to the general manager's office at "Bélin Publishing House" opened.
Young François Bélin returned home after a long and exhausting day.
He rubbed his temples, his face etched with fatigue.
The battle for textbook printing rights was far more intense and expensive than he had anticipated.
Although "Bélin" had secured orders in some regions thanks to its existing network, profits had been squeezed to a bare minimum.
Moreover, new competitors constantly emerged, vying for the market with lower prices, leaving the situation for the next academic year uncertain.
He had intended to go to his study for a brandy and some quiet time, but instead saw his youngest son sighing repeatedly over a small booklet.
Young François Bélin walked over, wanting to show some paternal concern:
"What's wrong, Pierre? Is your homework very difficult?"
He glanced at the book in front of his son; it wasn't the familiar Two Children's Journey Through France or French Reader, but an unfamiliar booklet.
Pierre looked up, his face crestfallen:
"Dad, this Montiel's Secret Compendium is too hard! I can't do so many of the questions!
But Monsieur Ralph said that to get into a good middle school, I have to master the questions in here... all the other students are doing it too..."
Young François Bélin looked at the cover and frowned:
"Montiel's Secret Compendium? 'Charpentier's Bookshelf'?"
He felt the name sounded familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before, but couldn't recall it at the moment.
He picked up the booklet and began to flip through it.
Initially, Young François Bélin, with a publisher's professional habit, critically examined the book's flaws:
The paper quality was ordinary, the ink smell was a bit strong, and the binding was slightly crude...
But soon, his expression changed.
As a veteran in the publishing industry, he keenly sensed the unusual nature of this small booklet.
The content inside was highly targeted, completely revolving around the specific texts designated by the "Ministry of Public Education and Fine Arts," especially Two Children's Journey Through France.
The analytical sections were clear and highlighted key points; and those practice questions... Young François Bélin's breathing gradually quickened.
The design of these questions was extremely shrewd and tricky, directly targeting knowledge points likely to be tested in the textbook.
Some questions even had a distinctly predictive nature.
This was certainly not something an ordinary teacher or scholar could casually compile!
Young François Bélin's tone was urgent:
"Where... where did you get this thing?"
Pierre said matter-of-factly:
"Everyone at school is using it! Monsieur Ralph recommended we buy it, saying it helps with studying.
Dad, is 'Charpentier's Bookshelf' really good? Is it better than our 'Bélin'?"
Young François Bélin murmured, his face pale:
"Charpentier... Georges Charpentier..."
He finally remembered; it was a publisher specializing in literary books, almost never dabbling in education.
Poetry, novels, essays, plays... and those boring art critiques, they had no intersection with "Bélin."
Young François Bélin shivered, as if something very important had slipped away from his heart.
He had originally thought that the decentralization of textbook printing rights was merely a redivision of traditional publishing spheres of influence, a game of money and connections in which he still had the ability to participate.
He thought the biggest threat would come from "Hachette," once an ally, and other eager educational publishers.
But he never imagined that the real threat would come from such an unassuming "byproduct"!
Georges Charpentier hadn't battled them head-on in the traditional textbook printing arena but had instead found another path, opening up a completely new market.
He couldn't yet give this market an accurate name, but he already had a premonition of its immense size.
"Charpentier's Bookshelf" had given up competing for the too-thinly-sliced cake of profits, and instead turned to selling "knives and forks" to tens of thousands of students and teachers!
As long as exams and selections existed, as long as the pressure for academic advancement existed, the demand in this market would be almost limitless!
Moreover, this market directly targeted teachers and students, and was almost immune to bureaucratic influence!
This thin booklet was priced at only 12 sous, so cheap that almost every family could afford it.
But to produce one for each main subject—what terrifying sales and profits that would bring!
Pierre, seeing his father's sudden change of expression, called out timidly:
"Dad?"
Young François Bélin didn't answer; he gripped Montiel's Secret Compendium tightly.
He seemed to see countless such booklets, like a plague, flowing through teachers across France into the hands of millions of students just like his son.
They were silent, yet they fundamentally changed the form of learning and overturned the rules of the publishing industry.
"Necessary sacrifice..."
Charles Debron's cold voice echoed in his ears again.
Could it be that "Bélin's" massive investment in the "textbook war" was all part of a conspiracy?
What unspeakable relationship did Charles Debron have with "Charpentier's Bookshelf"?
Rage swept over Young François Bélin.
He slammed Montiel's Secret Compendium onto the table with a loud thud.
Pierre flinched, shrinking his neck.
Young François Bélin sank back into the armchair, dejectedly, and murmured:
"Charpentier... Charles Debron... you... what ruthless tactics..."
He no longer had the mind to drink brandy.
Instead, he hastily put on his coat and hat, and called his coachman:
"Get the carriage ready at once!"
"Sir, where are we going?"
"To Monsieur Hachette's residence!"
(End of chapter)