Le Figaro has always been known for its conservative political stance, a position that permeated its current affairs and literary reviews.
Clearly, Lionel and his "the extraordinary adventures of benjamin button" were not to their liking.
However, Lionel wondered if this might be related to his two rejections of "Le Figaro's" invitations to contribute.
But whether it was a good review or a bad one, a novel appearing in Le Figaro meant that its author was officially recognized as part of the French literary scene.
Professor Hippolyte Taine looked at Lionel with a complex expression: "If you need any help, you can always come to me."
With that, he put on his hat and left the classroom.
Albert, on the other hand, was very excited: "Leon, congratulations, this is Le Figaro! — Let's go, I'll treat you to 'Foyot'!"
The "Foyot" restaurant, located near the Luxembourg Palace, is a mid-to-high-end establishment, with a minimum cost of 5 francs per person per meal.
Lionel's attention temporarily shifted from Le Figaro to the clearly overly enthusiastic Albert: "What's on your mind?"
Seeing that Lionel had seen through his intentions, Albert didn't shy away and readily admitted: "There are indeed some, but I think it's more appropriate to discuss them at the dinner table."
Lionel thought for a moment and didn't refuse: "Let's go tonight, I've already brought my lunch for noon."
Albert was a bit surprised, because it was more popular for Parisian students and office workers to eat out at noon; only the working class would often bring simple "lunchboxes," mostly some simple bread, cheese, and cold cuts.
The main reason was that Paris's public catering industry was well-developed and relatively affordable; in an ordinary commoner's restaurant, a full meal could cost as little as 10 to 15 sous.
Lionel had clearly risen above his former "poor student" status; even without the patronage of a noblewoman, his manuscript fees were enough for him to spend a few francs at public dining tables every day and eat and drink heartily.
Was he going to gnaw on bread as hard as stone and overly salty cold cuts like those crude workers and peasants?
Under the puzzled gazes of Albert and other classmates, Lionel first went to a well-lit, well-ventilated seat by the window and sat down.
Then he pulled out an oval picnic lunchbox, wrapped in canvas, made of tin-plated iron, and quite exquisitely crafted.
He placed it on the table with a crisp sound.
Next, Lionel lifted the lid, and the scent of bread and cheese immediately wafted out — the warmth of the oven still lingered, and the toasted aroma of the bread crust filled the air.
The first layer of the lunchbox contained three small round breads, one of which had its core hollowed out and filled with foie gras pâté, with a sprinkle of crushed walnuts on top;
The other two were paired with different fillings, one with smoked ham slices and fig jam, and the other with Brie cheese and fresh radish slices.
Half of the second layer contained three pieces of cold-fried salmon, the orange-pink fish meat paired with vibrant green herbs looked particularly enticing;
The other half was a spring vegetable salad made of tender peas, white asparagus tips, and shredded radishes, dressed with lemon olive oil.
Finally, Lionel also pulled out a small slice of cherry pie, wrapped in patterned wax paper, and a small bottle of elderflower syrup from his bag.
Albert's eyes widened: "This... this was made by your family's cook?"
Lionel nodded: "Now that the distance to and from school is too far for me, it's inconvenient to go home for lunch, so she just prepared a little something for me to eat."
Albert's eyes were practically glowing with envy; as someone from a noble family, he knew that a cook with such skills would cost at least 100 francs a month.
It was true that eating lunchboxes wasn't popular in Paris — but that depended on what kind of lunchbox it was!
Parisians would bring lunchboxes and picnic baskets when picnicking; wealthy people, of course, would make them as lavish and luxurious as possible, almost wishing they could move their entire kitchen to the grass.
But that was more of a social tool than an everyday habit.
The one Lionel held was not only exquisite and abundant but also subtly exuded a sense of superiority, implying, "outside restaurants are not as good as my kitchen."
This feeling was the most fatal blow to these playboys at Sorbonne!
Their families also had cooks, but they served their parents and families and wouldn't go to great lengths to prepare lunchboxes for them.
Even if they made such a request, they would most likely be politely refused by the cook or butler, who might even complain to their parents: "The young master has been misbehaving lately..."
So they were also accustomed to eating out and would compare who went to different expensive restaurants — until Lionel showed them another possibility in life.
Lionel, however, hadn't expected that a simple lunchbox would refresh the understanding of Albert and the other Sorbonne playboys; he simply enjoyed Petty's cooking.
The different fillings brought different layers of taste to the small round breads, the salmon still retained the crispy aroma of frying, the vegetable salad was refreshing and delicious, and finally, eating the cherry pie and drinking all the sweet elderflower syrup...
His empty stomach from the morning was completely satisfied.
It was then that he noticed Albert was still beside him and couldn't help but feel a little strange: "Why aren't you eating?"
Albert shook his head: "I have no appetite..."
Then, shamelessly, he asked: "Could you ask your family's cook to make an extra portion? I'm willing to pay double the price..."
"No!" Lionel flatly refused.
He had originally only wanted to make do with bread and salted meat for lunch every day, but Petty insisted on getting up an hour early to prepare his lunchbox, so he certainly didn't want to increase Petty's workload.
Immediately, Lionel asked Albert: "What did you want to say? Why don't you just say it now — I'm actually not very interested in going to restaurants lately."
Albert hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "Let's go to the small garden to talk."
The small garden is located in the center of Sorbonne College, dating back to the seminary era, with tall hedge walls shaped like a maze, and a public fountain in the center.
Lionel also needed to go to the public fountain to wash his lunchbox, so he agreed to go with Albert.
Once there were no other classmates around, Albert whispered to Lionel: "My father, Count Rohan, Louis-Philippe de Rohan, will be returning to Paris in a few weeks."
Lionel showed no surprise on his face, merely asking flatly: "What position has he been promised?"
Although Count Rohan, who had served as Deputy Minister of Finance, had once fallen from power, the Rohan Family was deeply rooted; they had recovered even after losing a dozen heads during the Revolution, let alone today.
Albert smiled: "'Ministry of Public Education and Fine Arts,' probably still as Deputy Minister."
Lionel was genuinely surprised this time: "Count Rohan's methods are extraordinary!"
Although there were many royalist forces within the republican government, departments with strong ideological leanings, like the "Ministry of Public Education and Fine Arts," were usually not allowed to be influenced by them.
Albert explained proudly: "My father has always been open-minded and tolerant in culture and education, and is now an active supporter of the republican system."
Lionel: "...So what do you want me to do?"
Albert carefully weighed his words: "Although the promise has been made, there must also be public opinion preparation."
Lionel: "And then?"
Albert looked at Lionel: "My father plans to host a grand ball after his return and before taking office, inviting artists who symbolize progress and democracy.
Leon, your name is very high on the list right now!"