The Fox of France

Chapter 288: The National Assembly

To be honest, Andrei had never been to the Moulin Rouge, even though he had heard of it many times. The weight of his studies bore down on him, and even though it was a Sunday, with no homework assigned by his professors, he didn't dare relax. Midterm exams were looming on the horizon.

Exams in electrical engineering were a whole different beast compared to the arts. In the arts, there was a curious tradition where, during the last class before the exam, professors would say, "Ah, my dear students, following the school's requirements, we have to conduct a dreadful exam. Devil take it... Ah, according to the school, we have to use a percentage scale for the entire paper, and it should have at least two questions. So, tell me, what two questions shall we include?"

The students would then start shouting out their preferences for exam topics, and a classmate would record the suggestions on the blackboard. Afterward, a democratic vote decided the final questions, and the exam would be prepared accordingly.

After the exam, the papers were collected, rolled into a tube, sealed with another piece of paper that read "Maximum Score: 100," and sent to the administration. Then, the exam was done.

But "Electrical Engineering" was a whole different story. Several days before the exam, the professors warned their students, "For this exam, we have two major questions, each worth fifty points. If you fail one, you fail the whole exam. Consider changing your major if you can't handle it; we don't need fools here!"

There was no room for democratic voting or open discussion here. The professors in the engineering department were tough. Some of them managed to fail half or more of their students every year. Electrical engineering was a new subject, so its fate was uncertain, but rumors circulated about popular majors from the past, where many students were expelled each year. Andrei figured electrical engineering would be no exception. If you weren't careful during the exam and scored a zero (which was very easy with just two questions - get one wrong, and you got no points; get both right, and they could still take off for the process), you were in serious trouble.

"Anatole, we're about to have our exam... You know, it's quite different from your major," Andrei said.

"Come on, forget about the exam! Andrei, tell me, in the last exam, what number were you when you entered the classroom?"

At some point, Paris University developed two peculiar habits in some of its science and engineering departments. First, students were assigned fixed seat numbers, and regardless of the classroom, they had to sit in their designated seats. This was supposedly to monitor who attended class, avoiding potential cheating.

The other habit was even more interesting - every time there was an exam, the seating arrangement was changed. Here's how it worked: students gathered outside the classroom, and the teaching assistant called out names in order of their exam scores, starting with the highest. The student with the highest score could choose a seat first and update their assigned number. Then, the second-highest scorer went next, and so on. For students with lower scores, this process was almost like a public punishment. Anyone who skipped the seating process was sure to be expelled and lose their tuition.

"Fifth," Andrei replied.

"You see, you're still far from danger!" Anatole retorted. "Take a look, it won't take long. You can't bury yourself in the library, classrooms, and labs all the time. Once in a while, it's good to see new things. Otherwise, one day, when you return to St. Petersburg, and your sister asks, 'Brother, what is Paris like?' are you going to tell her, 'Paris? It has many classrooms, lots of books, too few seats in the library, and various labs'?"

"However I describe Paris to my sister, I won't be telling her about places like the Moulin Rouge," Andrei replied.

Despite his words, Andrei was genuinely curious about the Moulin Rouge. As a young man, losing interest in such places would indicate a severe problem. Therefore, he decided to accompany Anatole and explore the Moulin Rouge, even if only for a brief visit. After all, he planned to return the next afternoon and hit the library.

The best time to visit the Moulin Rouge was in the evening, and since they had decided to go, Andrei and Anatole promptly hopped onto a carriage heading to Montmartre, even though it was getting dark by the time they arrived. Montmartre was now thriving, and the large number of carriages heading there was a testament to that. At this time, the Moulin Rouge was at its liveliest, but the road leading there was also the most congested. The streets were packed with vehicles, and traffic jams were a common sight, leading many to grumble about the narrowness of the road.

After several field trips and observations by Minister Lucien, a clear pattern emerged regarding the traffic leading to Montmartre. During the afternoons, there was a massive influx of vehicles from all directions, but very few headed away from Montmartre. Conversely, in the mornings and early afternoons, most vehicles were leaving Montmartre for other areas.

This prompted Minister Lucien to introduce an innovative solution - "Limited One-Way Streets." Most of the roads leading to Montmartre were now "Limited One-Way Streets." This meant that during the afternoon and evening, all vehicles were allowed to move only toward Montmartre. In the morning and early afternoon, they could only go in the opposite direction.

Despite the restrictions, Andrei and Anatole found themselves arriving at Montmartre nearly in the dark.

The two friends disembarked at Montmartre station, and from there, they could already see the iconic red windmill of the Moulin Rouge. The evening sun was casting its last rosy glow on the red windmill, making it even more captivating.

The streets were growing dark, and municipal workers were busy lighting the gas lamps along the roads. Although it was nighttime, the streets were coming alive with people. Each shop had various dazzling lights, creating a mesmerizing spectacle.

Anatole wore a broad smile as he pulled Andrei along and said, "My friend, have you ever seen a night like this? Such scenes, you'll never find them in St. Petersburg."

Andrei chuckled, "Yes, St. Petersburg is not this bustling, and at this time, our streets would be freezing."

"Tonight, we have several friends meeting here," Anatole added.

As they weaved through the bustling crowd, Andrei noticed the numerous police officers on horseback patrolling the area.

"Why are there so many police officers here?" Andrei furrowed his brow.

"Well, who do you think mostly comes here to have fun every night? It's the wealthy people! And when is it the liveliest? At night, of course. If there aren't enough police officers here, the place would be crawling with pickpockets," Anatole explained.

Upon arriving at the entrance of the Moulin Rouge, a luxurious carriage drove past them and entered the venue's parking lot.

To ensure smooth traffic, regular public carriages could only stop at the station, and only the wealthy who were willing to pay a special fee could have their carriages driven directly to the Moulin Rouge's entrance. There was a designated parking lot for private carriages, which was expensive and required reservations. Ordinary people couldn't secure a parking space, and rumors even claimed that the number one parking space at the Moulin Rouge belonged to a high-profile figure.

However, these matters had little to do with Andrei and his fellow students. After all, most Russian students abroad, particularly those in their circles, would eventually return to Russia, as they came from noble backgrounds.

Anatole was a regular at the Moulin Rouge, and he smoothly led Andrei inside. The performance hadn't started yet, but the Moulin Rouge's hall was already packed with people.

Anatole took Andrei to a private booth where several young men and women were already sitting on a large sofa.

Since the show had not yet begun, Anatole took the opportunity to introduce Andrei to his friends. They were lively, and each of them was more extroverted than Andrei. Most were young people, and with the combination of wine and the presence of beautiful companions to set the mood, they quickly became friends.

After a few sips of wine, the conversation transitioned from praising the greatness of Paris to complaining about Russia's backwardness and dullness. It then shifted to discussing how they could change Russia to become as great as France.

"It's a tough task," Andrei shook his head. "What you see here is just the surface grandeur. But underneath lies a formidable power—the power of industry. France's policies are driving industrialization and eliminating all obstacles, but in Russia, those obstacles are numerous."

"Andrei, you're right!" Marklov, a tall fellow, agreed. "Well, we're all Russian children, and we have a responsibility to change everything. We have a group called the 'National Assembly.' Would you be willing to join?"