Chapter 14: Boundaries Are Meant to Be Created!
Having secured Sophie’s promise, Leonard finally relaxed.
The “Colonial Communications Office,” as the department responsible for the company’s internal correspondence, dealt mainly with the mundane tasks of delivering letters and messages, yet it undoubtedly possessed more detailed personnel information than other departments.
The only departments likely to have more comprehensive data would be Human Resources or the Secretariat—though those staff probably lacked the patience to listen to his lengthy family history.
Since this office didn’t close until 7 p.m., and it was only 3 p.m., Leonard still had a full four hours to explore the reality behind the “Panama Oceanic Canal Global Company.”
Without delay, he spent five sous on a public horse-drawn carriage to reach the French Overseas Chamber of Commerce in the Eighth District. Upon disembarking, he was stunned—
A long line stretched outside the building’s entrance, snaking all the way onto the next street. Despite the biting cold wind, those waiting were in high spirits, eagerly chatting among themselves.
Leonard bypassed the queue and approached the entrance directly, discovering the reason:
Everyone was waiting to subscribe to the Panama Canal bonds issued by the Panama Oceanic Canal Global Company, promising a six percent annual interest rate on a first-come, first-served basis!
A middle-aged man who had just secured his purchase noticed Leonard’s curious glances and kindly advised, “Young man, you’re too late to queue here. If you hurry to the Bahrain Bank or the Industrial Bank, you might still get some.”
Leonard asked, “Is everyone really that confident in the Panama Canal project?”
The man’s eyes lit up. “Don’t you know who’s leading this grand engineering feat?”
Leonard shook his head, and the man smiled with satisfaction. “It’s none other than the wise and resolute Ferdinand de Lesseps! He was the mastermind behind the Suez Canal and secured a 99-year concession for France.
With him at the helm, this canal will surely become another pride of France!”
As the man’s voice grew louder, the crowd spontaneously erupted in cheers:
“Long live France! Long live France!”
Fueled by the chant, enthusiasm surged through the line. Many people waved bundles of cash overhead, urging the clerks to speed up the processing.
Though Leonard was unsure whether the French ultimately completed the Panama Canal, as a well-read humanities student with excellent academic credentials, he was familiar with France’s history of frenzied investments—most of which ended poorly.
He asked with some concern, “How long will it take?”
The man replied confidently, “Mister Ferdinand managed to dig the 190-kilometer Suez Canal through the scorching, arid, and desolate Egyptian desert. The Panama Canal is reportedly just over 80 kilometers!
The Suez took ten years, so let’s be optimistic and say the Panama Canal will be operational in five years, definitely no more than seven!
When that happens, francs, pounds, dollars... will flow into our pockets like water through the canal!”
His words elicited another round of cheers.
Leonard remained silent. There was no need to investigate further.
The “digging of the Panama Canal” and the sale of “Panama Canal bonds” seemed legitimate, and the Panama Oceanic Canal Global Company was no sham.
Ferdinand de Lesseps was indeed a renowned industrialist and nobleman who had served as a diplomat—not a fraud.
This was the brilliance of the swindler “Emile”: most of the information was true and easily verifiable; only the most crucial and difficult details were fabricated…
Now, all that remained was to hope Sophie could deliver some surprises.
Anxiously, Leonard walked from the Eighth District back to the Second—neighboring districts—barely pausing even as he passed the Champs-Élysées.
It took a full hour before he reached the agreed meeting spot, the “Seine Sunset” café. He ordered a black coffee and began to drink quietly while leafing through the Petit Journal.
Soon, laughter erupted at a nearby table. A rather gentlemanly patron sprayed coffee onto his newspaper, then covered his eyes with one hand, struggling to hold back his laugh.
The café attendant seemed unfazed, promptly wiping the table and bringing a fresh coffee.
As he passed Leonard’s table, he muttered a complaint, “Another one—damn Le Tumulte…”
Hearing this, Leonard called after him, “Could you bring me today’s Le Tumulte?”
The attendant gestured toward the man who had just spilled his coffee. “The last clean copy is on his table.”
Leonard smiled. The café subscribed to multiple copies of each newspaper so patrons could pass the time.
The attendant bent close and whispered, “Today’s Le Tumulte features some new jokes. Several customers have laughed so hard they’ve sprayed coffee on the pages…”
Leonard’s smile widened. “Oh? What sort of jokes?”
The attendant gave a knowing smile. “You’d better see for yourself... I swear, they’re the most subtle, vicious, yet funniest jokes I’ve ever seen in my life...”
Leonard nodded in understanding.
It seemed the three short stories had quite an impact, and he felt confident the owner of Le Tumulte would accept his proposal!
After all, when it came to humor, from ancient to modern times, Europe—no matter how rich in variety, technique, or linguistic nuance—could not compare to China.
He had deliberately chosen to adapt jokes from the “Comprehensive Collection of Jokes: Monks and Taoists” section not only to pierce the most taboo and deeply veiled layer of French religious culture, but also to test the limits of these tabloid newspapers.
If even such material could be published, he would be free to unleash his full creativity without restraint.
What he did not know was that he himself had created this very boundary…
Of course, the true identity of “An Honest Parisian” must remain secret—for if he were to officially debut in French literary circles, it would be impossible to do so as a writer of risqué jokes.
Since meeting Maupassant that day, certain things had taken root in his heart like weeds, growing uncontrollably…
Hence his choice to subscribe monthly under “anonymous hold for pick-up.”
But the most urgent matter now was to resolve the crisis looming over the Sorel family in the Alps. He feared that if he delayed even one day, his father might hand over the dowry and savings to that dubious suitor.
After nearly an hour, Sophie Denave finally appeared at the café entrance. She wore a thick coat but still looked slender.
Leonard noticed for the first time how tall she was—almost 170 centimeters—a rarity among women of the era.
He raised his hand and called out, “Over here!”
Sophie smiled upon seeing him, quickly weaving through the tables to sit opposite Leonard.
He smiled back, refraining from immediately asking about her findings. Instead, he said, “You haven’t had dinner yet, right? May I have the honor of inviting you to dine with me?”
Sophie’s cheeks flushed, like pomegranate juice spreading in milk.