Lionel was startled, and after carefully examining the young man in front of him, he realized that he was indeed the same person as the bearded middle-aged man on the cover of the future published collection of short stories.
It was just that at this time his beard was not as rugged and dense, but neatly combed and trimmed on his upper lip and cheeks.
"1879... 1879..." Lionel muttered the number in his heart, confirming that Maupassant was still unknown at this time, and the famous "Ball of Fat" that shook the France literary world had not yet been published; he smiled and gently shook hands with Maupassant: "It's my honor - but may I ask why?"
Maupassant's expression was joyful, and his tone was exceptionally relaxed: "You showed me a good show, Mr. Sorel. I originally thought that the Faculty of Arts was full of dull bookworms or frivolous noble young masters.
But you changed my mind about it. Your interpretation of "phèdre" was brilliant!"
Lionel took off his cap, held it to his chest, and nodded slightly: "Thank you for your praise, sir! But a mere 5-minute classroom speech is probably not worth a franc!"
Getting to know a future celebrity like Maupassant was certainly a good thing, but rashly accepting an invitation would probably be even more inappropriate; before knowing his true intentions, Lionel preferred to be cautious.
Compared to a free lunch, he cared more about whether he could win Maupassant's respect and long-lasting friendship.
After all, in historical records, this "King of Short Stories" had a quirky temper, was moody, and proud; in his youth, because he hated church schools, he even preferred to deliberately cause trouble to get himself expelled.
If he truly had value in Maupassant's eyes, then this refusal would not make Maupassant give up; if Maupassant was just acting on a whim, then he had no need to be a seasoning for someone else's life's amusement.
Maupassant evidently did not expect Lionel to not immediately agree, but instead showed a socially skillful probing - demonstrating his humility without angering him.
This made Maupassant even more interested in the young man in front of him.
Normally, such social language would only appear in people from well-off families who had received good etiquette training. Lionel's old coat and unpolished leather shoes for a long time showed that his family should not have the financial means to hire an etiquette teacher.
—When he was sitting in the back row, the other students' whispers also confirmed this.
Especially when he just announced his name, he specifically emphasized the middle "de" character, which was a symbol of aristocratic status, and even though it was now a republic, it could still awe commoners.
But Lionel did not show any emotional fluctuations, but instead responded appropriately to his praise and politely declined his invitation.
Could this student from the common class naturally possess a noble temperament, just like himself?
Maupassant was unwilling to miss the opportunity, so he took out a palm-sized notebook from his pocket, opened a page, and handed it to Lionel.
Lionel took it, and found that it was full of words and short phrases:
"Chestnut hair" "Simple profile" "Long eyelashes, sprinkled with a layer of gold dust in the morning light" "Language with an undeniable calm" "Commotion" "Dead silence" "Frightened like a duck seeing an eagle"...
"This is..." Lionel's tone was confused, "notes from class just now?"
Maupassant was delighted that he understood, and took the notebook back from Lionel's hand: "This is my shorthand notebook - just like a painter's sketchbook! My teacher taught me to always record the characteristics of people, events, and things.
He told me, 'Learn to observe life with your eyes, and more importantly, make your hands obey your eyes, and write down what you observe with your hands.'"
Lionel smiled. He naturally knew who the teacher Maupassant was referring to was, but since the other person didn't mention the name, he didn't need to expose it, but necessary respect still had to be expressed: "Your teacher must be an outstanding literary master, and his training of you is the right path of literature!"
Hearing Lionel's compliment, Maupassant became even more excited, but he still did not reveal his teacher's name, but continued: "I came to Sorbonne University originally to observe what university students are like now.
If you'll pardon my frankness, they are lifeless, only respectful to professors, like mice seeing a cat.
And those professors? They are just like that American fellow 'Edison's' invention a few years ago, the 'phonograph', repeating those boring, old-fashioned sermons every class.
To be honest, I was sitting in the back row of the classroom and almost fell asleep—
But you came in, Mr. Sorel - from the moment you pushed open the door and entered the classroom, to answering Professor Taine's tricky question - it was simply a vivid story material, full of dramatic elements, a 5-minute "phèdre".
If you had been sitting in class from the beginning, it might not have had this effect; precisely because you were late, and precisely because of your - forgive my frankness - commoner status, precisely because of the other students' hostility towards you, precisely because of Professor Taine's harshness—
Of course, most importantly, precisely because of your profound insights into "phèdre" and your excellent eloquence...
So, Mr. Sorel, I am not inviting you to dinner for your 5-minute classroom speech, but for this wonderful story - is this reason sufficient?"
Looking at the eloquent and passionate Maupassant in front of him, Lionel's smile became even brighter: "Of course, Mr. Maupassant! It is my great honor to have lunch with you!
But you can just call me 'Lionel'."
Maupassant was overjoyed and led Lionel out of the Faculty of Arts.
In those days, universities generally did not have canteens. Students from outside the province had to go to restaurants outside or return to their rented apartments to eat - provided they had a meal plan.
At this time, the "three-meal system" had not yet become widespread in France, and most people did not care about breakfast. They usually ate a "brunch" between 10 AM and 12 PM. Poor students could get by with 10 centimes of bread and 5 centimes of milk.
The main meal was dinner, and that required something nutritious.
Students at Sorbonne University from not-too-bad families had an annual living expense of about 1200 francs, and those with more money could have 1500 francs.
They often lodged on Rue Saint-Jacques, Rue Masson-Sorbonne, and enjoyed an 80-centime dinner at simple restaurants like "Will," "Rousseau," or "Fricdo," then went dancing until late at night at cheap taverns like "Grand Chalut."
And poor Lionel, with only 900 francs in living expenses a year, could only live in the mixed Eleventh District, eating the unpalatable meals of his landlady, Madame Martin, every day, and had never even danced once.
Although Maupassant was not yet famous at this time, he had already worked in the Colonial Administration of the Ministry of the Navy for many years, so his financial situation was quite good, and he naturally would not go to those cheap simple restaurants.
Instead, he walked with Lionel for a full 20 minutes to a restaurant called "Prince's Inn," paid 8 francs, and sat down with the owner and other guests to enjoy the same delicious food.
This way of dining opened Lionel's eyes; for Zhang Chaohua, who was tasting a French feast of this era for the first time, it was also an eye-opener.
(One more chapter tonight)