Soon, the elegantly dressed waiter pushed a copper cart and brought the first courseâ
a rich red lamb minced wheat soup, and garlic-covered oysters baked to a golden hue.
Mrs. Walsh warmly introduced to her cousin and his wife: "These are the most popular dishes in the Palace of Versailles. The Chorba soup from North Africa, with a slightly spicy flavor. And the ever-popular âCrown Prince Oystersâ, truly a gift from Jesus."
The skills of the former Imperial Chef were absolutely impeccable. Brode swallowed a few mouthfuls so eagerly that he nearly forgot basic etiquette, his knife and fork a blur of motion. His wife coughed softly beside him to remind him to mind his manners.
The second course was roast pigeon and Spanish almond puff pastry cream, followed by a dessert of nut-crust chocolate ice cream.
"Itâs said this is the Crown Princeâs favorite dessert; he almost eats three servings every day."
After Brode was done with the meal, Walsh tipped the waiter 5 francsâa sum so large that it pained Brode. Well, if he knew the meal cost a staggering 180 francs, he might not have been able to hold back a shout.
Once they got into the carriage, Walsh pointed to a brightly lit street not far away and winked at Brode:
"Now, letâs start the real entertainment. I promise youâll enjoy it."
The latter assumed they were about to experience some "unspeakable" activities and quickly gestured with his eyes at the two ladies sitting opposite them, whispering: "Cough, shouldnât we send them back first?"
"Back?" Walsh shook his head, "Theyâll have their fun, and weâll go to another place."
Brodeâs eyes went wide, with only one thought in his head: The French sure know how to have fun, but if thatâs the case, Sylvia is sure to have a huge argument with him when they return.
"Uh... is this really okay?"
"Of course, itâs okay," Walsh said as their carriage stopped in front of a shop with flashing neon lights at its entrance.
He gestured for his cousin to step out and told his wife, "Weâre going in. You and Sylvia can head to the usual place."
"Alright, dear. See you later."
Nervously, Brode walked under the colorful gas lamps into the shop, stealing a glance at the two pretty young ladies holding the door open for him. A thought ran through his mind: The girls in Paris sure are prettier than those in The Hague!
Walsh greeted the shop owner warmly: "This is my cousin; please prepare the most expensive service for him."
"Certainly, esteemed Earl."
Walsh had spent a fortune to buy himself an Earl title when Franceâs nobility sales were still unchecked.
Brode turned his head toward the two girls by the entrance, swallowed hard, and thought to himself: Now that Iâm already here, I canât let my cousinâs kind intentions go to waste. Sylvia will surely understand.
More than ten minutes later.
Brode lay on a soft recliner, letting out a satisfied hum.
"Howâs the pace, sir? Want me to speed it up a bit?"
Brode raised a hand to wave him off, humming, "Just like this, keep going, donât stop."
The blond young man standing behind him nodded with a smile. He scraped up a handful of lather from Brodeâs chin and applied it on his forehead, then started rubbing Brodeâs cheeks vigorously using a cleanser mixed with yogurt and essential oils for lubrication.
After a while, the blond youth paused to mix a powder with oil.
Brode exhaled deeply as Walsh, lying next to him, introduced: "This is the âOriental Cleanserâ brought to the Palace of Versailles by the Crown Prince. How is it, pretty nice, right?"
Hmm, this actually originated from a time when Joseph, busy with work, wanted to relax by doing a facial treatment he had tried in a past lifeâan Indian-style cleanser. He didnât expect it to become a nationwide leisure trend.
Before Brode could respond, the face-washing technician applied a paste to his face and began the second round of rubbing.
After who knows how long, with his face scrubbed to a shiny glow, Brode followed his cousin out of the Oriental Cleanser shop, feeling as if a layer of his skin had been scrubbed off.
He glanced again at the young lady by the door, eagerly asking: "Where to next?"
"Just across the street." Walsh pointed confidently towards the opposite side of the street, "This will be even more pleasant."
Once inside, Brode was quickly seated in a chair. A barber-like man applied something unknown to his hair and then set his head on fire.
Brode was so frightened he nearly jumped up, but the barber was experienced enough to hold him down: "Donât worry, sir. Thereâs no danger."
With a rapid combing motion, the fire on the Dutchmanâs head was extinguished, leaving his hair slightly curled at the ends.
Hmm, after the Indian-style facial cleanser became popular, Joseph had introduced the Indian-style fire haircut, though he never tried it himselfâafter experiencing it during travel once in a past life, his hair smelled burnt for days.
After the haircut, it was time for a hair wash.
Not just any simple wash, but with a special cleansing solution, repeatedly massaged and washed, taking a full half-hour to complete.
With his entire head feeling rejuvenated, Brode was again led by his cousin into an adjacent massage parlor for a luxurious full-body massage.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Walsh and the other lady were just stepping out of a beauty spa, chatting and smiling as they walked into a nearby nail salon.
In just half the evening, the four of them had spent over 300 francs on this street alone.
Yes, boosting the economy isnât just about expanding industrial production; stimulating consumption is equally important.
This street was the most famous spot in Paris for "Elegant Living" leisure and entertainment.
Initially, there were just a few barber shops and Hindu-style face cleansing parlors. Under Josephâs planning and promotion, it expanded to take up most of the street, featuring over 60 different types of specialty leisure venues.
Even during the first half of this yearâs wartime, it contributed 17,000 francs monthly to Franceâs treasury.
With the warâs end and tourists from provinces and foreign countries flocking to Paris, revenue here is set to multiply.
Not far to the north of "Elegant Living Street" lay the Champs-Elysees, which has become a shopping paradise in Paris.
Joseph also instructed Paris City Hall to plan a "Gourmet Street" on the eastern side.
The next morning, as Brode sat in a carriage, he was still reminiscing about the previous nightâs extravagant enjoyments, which were far more entertaining than the usual banquets and balls.
Walsh, still full of interest, continued talking about the play they were about to seeâthey were heading to the Royal Theater of France.
Brode finally remembered the most important reason for his trip to Paris and, seizing a break in the conversation, awkwardly interjected: "Um, dear cousin, I actually have something quite challenging to deal with, but right now only you can help me."
He went on to describe the difficult situation of his familyâs business: "If you could lend me 7,000 British Pounds, oh, even 5,000 would do, it would be like saving my life. Iâm willing to pay you 8% interest."