Chapter 27: Sharp Sword (Requesting Monthly Ticket)
Joseph chuckled to himself,
“I must start a bank myself if I get the chance.”
After he finished reviewing the financial documents, he pushed the file basket aside, rubbed his sore shoulders, and picked up the documents of the new taxw to read.
The bill had many uses, with over thirty pages in total.
The more Joseph read, the more he furrowed his brows. The person who drafted thesews was indeed very clever, mixing a mess of unrted things all together. Even someone with a 21st-century higher education like himself felt dizzy and overwhelmed, expecting ordinary people to understand what was written in it was simply a dream!
And it seemed that, fearing the bill would be obstructed by the nobility, the drafters intentionally included some provisions favoring the noble ss at the expense ofmon people.
What they hadn’t anticipated was that it was these nearly insignificant tax items that became the leverage that the nobility used to attack the taxw. Themon people couldn’t grasp the intricacies of the uses and, believing popr opinion that imed thew would harm their interests, opposed it as well.
In reality, the core content of the bill was to abolish the nobility’snd tax privileges and have them share some of the national fiscal burden.
Additionally, it included stiptions that allowed the free transportation and trade of grain, as well as the removal of tariffs between different regions within the country to promote economic development.
This bill fully reflected the weakness and conciliatory nature of Louis XVI’s government…
It was like sugar mixed with shit—as if trying to please both nobles andmoners, they ended up disliked by both.
Thinking of this, Joseph picked up his pen and crossed out every tax item that was detrimental to ordinary people and small business owners, one by one.
To pull some in and push others away was the way of politics.
After the cuts, this bill was no longer a tool for the noble ss to manipte the government but rather a sword to attack them with!
Joseph checked it over carefully once more and was about to hand it to his assistant for re-copying and organizing when he realized it was already twilight.
“Forget it, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” He stretchedzily, threw the draft of the bill into a drawer, and resisted doing unto others what he wouldn’t want done to himself—unless it was an emergency, he wouldn’t force his subordinates to work overtime.
As soon as he stepped out of his office, he saw Emaning toward him with a maid, “Your Highness, Queen Mary is hosting a gambling game in the Mars Hall, and she invites you to join.”
A smile flickered in Joseph’s mind. It seemed so strange for a mother to pull her son into gambling.
However, he knew that this was a very normal form of entertainment at the Pce of Versailles, and even the Sun King, Louis XIV, had specially requested in his “Advice to the Crown Prince” that the court hold more of these activities to strengthen the bonds between monarch and subject.
Joseph nodded, “Alright, I’ll go at once.”
He went back to his living quarters first to change into a set of light but luxurious clothes appropriate for entertainment and then followed the queen’s maid to the Mars Hall.
Joseph could hear waves of noise apanied by cheerful piano music emanating from the hall from afar. The guards at the door bowed to Joseph, then opened the two-person high doors.
Queen Mary, who was ying barat beneath the huge portrait of Louis XIV, spotted her son immediately and waved with a beaming smile,
“Darling, you finally arrived!”
Joseph hurried over and bowed, and the queen, clearly in a good mood, said, “I hear you’ve been busy all day at Brian’s. Go y and rx a bit. Oh, do you know? I just won eleven rounds in a row! I hope you have the same good luck as me!”
The surrounding nobles, upon hearing of the Crown Prince’s arrival, paused and paid their respects to him, especially the young girls dressed in luxurious silk gowns, all with peach-blossom eyes and giggling continuously.
As Joseph watched the nobles who fawned and ttered around Queen Mary and the queen herself who was flushed andughing heartily from winning, he suddenly remembered amentation by the writer Zweig from ater era—”She was too young at the time, not knowing that all the gifts fate had given her had already been secretly marked with a price.”[Note 1]
While Joseph reflected silently, Mono, his face caked with white powder, came running over with a big smile and eagerly gestured behind him,
“Your Highness, you’ve arrived just in time! We’ve been fretting over being one yer short,e join us for cards,”
Upon hearing this, a young noble at the card table was taken aback and quickly vanished, effectively realizing the “shortage of yers.”
Joseph, unable to decline the warm invitation, sat down next to the Minister of the Interior beneath the painting of the God of War, and servants immediately brought over wine and beverages.
“Two tens,” Count Papus, sitting at the head of the table, yed his cards.
The game was simr to “Fight the Landlord,” but the smallest card was an Ace, and K, representing the King, was the highest.
Joseph took a ss of juice, looked at the cards in his hand, and shook his head, saying, “I’ll pass.”
He nced at the pile of gold écus and silver livres on the table, and couldn’t help thinking about France’s 2 billion debt. Looking across at the Cab Minister, who was carelessly tossing gold coins and ying heartily, Joseph shook his head with a wry smile, thinking perhaps a major reform was indeed necessary…
Preupied with thoughts of the national debt and his poor card skills, he quickly lost three games in a row, losing 12 gold écus in total.
Not far off, more than a dozen noble youngdies watched the table intently, seeing the Crown Prince somewhat distracted, they assumed it was due to his losses at cards. They clenched their little fists, grinding their silver teeth with a crunching sound.
Several girls sprang into action immediately.
Some swept around to face their fathers or uncles, enveloping them with looks of murderous intent and eyes full of grievance.
Others went to their brothers’ sides, seemingly inquiring how his hand was but covertly pinching a chunk of flesh on their arm and twisting it 180 degrees.
In fact, ording to the traditions of the French Court, intentionally losing at gambling was not allowed, but the three men ying with Joseph at that moment unhesitatingly decided to forgo this convention.
Mono broke a straight from six to ten, ying just an eight. Count Papus, looking at the seven yed by the Crown Prince, gripped a single ten and a Queen firmly in his hand, and resolutely called, “Pass”…
Joseph’s “luck” suddenly improved, no matter how he yed, he won, even one hand where the highest card was only a Jack, and most were single cards, he still came out victorious.
His winning streak buoyed his spirits, and he forgot all about the time until he felt a bit weary and nced at the clock, realizing it was already half past eleven in the evening.
He quickly rose to bid farewell to his cardpanions, asking Eman to collect the winnings, and, dragging his weary body, headed towards the sleeping quarters.
Upon leaving the hall, Eman caught up, whispering excitedly:
“Your Highness, you’ve won a total of one hundred and fifty-six écus.”
One écu was equivalent to six livres; hence, in one night, Joseph had won nearly one thousand livres!
“Not bad,” Joseph said with a sense of aplishment, “I earned so much without doing anything half the night!”
But he immediately remembered that terrifying 2 billion debt and mentally calcted that, at his current winning rate, it would only take about 550 years to pay it off.
Joseph sighed. To pay off such a massive debt, relying solely on personal money-making projects was nowhere near enough; he would have to use himself as a fulcrum to leverage the Industrial Revolution across all of France—that was the way out of the financial dilemma.
Therefore, the Steam Engine and textile technology needed to be developed as soon as possible, along with apanying financial and patent policies.
As Joseph thought about the Industrial Revolution, he had inadvertently wandered somewhere; suddenly, he heard a “growl” from his stomach and couldn’t help but shake his head with a wry smile. Preupied with winning money all evening, he had forgotten to eat supper.
Looking up, he realized the corridor in front of him led to the kitchen, which was still lit up inside, indicating that an Imperial Chef was on duty.
Since it was quite a distance from the Crown Prince’s sleeping quarters, waiting to have the food delivered there would take who knows how long.
He might as well have a chef whip up something on the spot to tide him over. Thinking this, he walked towards the kitchen.
[Note 1: From the biographical novel “The Queen of the Guillotine” by Austrian writer Stefan Zweig (November 28, 1881 – February 22, 1942).]