The news of a duel between a top Parisian socialite and a wealthy Russian lady quickly spread throughout Paris.
"Madame Rothschild and Mademoiselle Scherbatova will fight for honor!"
This news didn't just cause a ripple; it unleashed a colossal wave that engulfed the whole of Paris.
In just one night, all Parisian newspapers, regardless of size or political leaning, were set ablaze by this unprecedented "grand event."
The conservative Le Gaulois and the La Croix, which had close ties to the church, used every word expressing indignation and condemnation:
[Moral degeneration!]
[The world is going to the dogs!]
[The insane duel of a lady of society is a disgrace to French civilization!]
[When women abandon modesty and grace, and pick up violence that belongs to men, the cornerstone of social order is collapsing!]
The articles were filled with nostalgia for Paris's old elegance and deep sorrow over the current "indecent" behavior.
Meanwhile, republican and liberal newspapers, such as Le Figaro and La République, displayed a subtle attitude.
On the one hand, they were obliged to criticize the barbaric act of dueling itself; on the other, they couldn't suppress a certain excitement.
Many commentators interpreted it as an extreme manifestation of awakening female consciousness:
[This is a rebellion against antiquated social rules!]
[When words cannot defend dignity, they chose the most direct way!]
[Madame Rothschild proves with her actions that women's sense of honor and courage are no less than any man's!]
Although the wording was relatively restrained, the lines were filled with the implication of enjoying the spectacle and not minding if it escalated.
Those truly reveling were the cheap tabloids, such as Le Polichinelle, Le Lanterne, and even the popular newspaper Le Petit Parisien couldn't resist.
Reporters used extremely vivid and exaggerated language to describe the upcoming "duel of the century," even digging up the incident from last year's Sorbonne oral exam:
[Blouses removed! Bare bodies displayed! Two peerless beauties will wield swords for "the conscience of the Sorbonne"!]
[Details exposed! The duel rules are so "considerate"! Who will witness the ladies' bare bodies?]
[The fuse behind it all is "the conscience of the Sorbonne," Lionel Sorel? What kind of passionate clash did his A Study in Scarlet provoke among the ladies?]
[This newspaper will provide exclusive coverage, revealing the untold story between Madame Rothschild and the Russian Rose!]
These headlines greatly stimulated sales, and newspapers were snapped up as soon as they hit the stands.
Citizens, workers, shop assistants, and even market vendors in Paris were all discussing it with relish.
"Will the two ladies really take off their tops?"
"I hear they are both rare beauties!"
"Who will win?"
"I don't care who wins; I care if I can get a glimpse."
"Where will the 'first blood' appear?"
"Most likely their most 'prominent' parts, of course..."
"Hehehehehe..."
It was as if this was not a potentially fatal duel, but an exciting drama or circus performance.
The news, as if on wings, quickly flew across borders.
London's The Times, being conservative, was relatively understated:
[Parisian high society is once again stirred, as the duel agreement between two prominent ladies causes a stir in continental opinion.]
Meanwhile, Berlin's newspapers were less polite about the French news:
[The French always manage to make everything, including violence, so 'charming.']
In the salons of Vienna, Rome, and Madrid, this became the hottest topic.
The entire European upper class was awaiting the outcome of the duel, eager to see what new tricks the French ladies could come up with.
What was intriguing was that the Parisian police turned a blind eye to this "duel."
When reporters approached Chief Gigot, he merely responded vaguely:
"Those are just rumors; we haven't received any formal complaints from either party..."
At the center of the storm, besides the two ladies, was, of course, Lionel.
Despite Lionel's utmost reluctance, all reports pointed out that he was one of the witnesses designated by Madame Rothschild.
And the fuse for the duel was precisely the debate over his work, A Study in Scarlet.
Thus, 117 Rue Saint-Germain suffered the most ferocious siege since its construction, even more intense than the Bastille on July 14, 1789.
From dawn till dusk, hundreds of reporters and nosy onlookers always gathered downstairs, not only blocking the entrance completely but also directly cutting off traffic.
Like sharks sniffing blood, they held notebooks and pencils, their eyes fixed on the apartment's main exit.
As soon as any young man resembling Lionel appeared, they would swarm him.
"Monsieur Sorel! What are your thoughts on the duel between the two ladies?"
"Do you believe your A Study in Scarlet should be held responsible for this?"
"Does Madame Rothschild choosing you as a witness imply a special relationship between you?"
"Will you watch the entire duel? What are your thoughts on the 'blouses removed' rule?"
All sorts of questions, from serious to gossipy, from literary to sensual, rained down like hail on the tightly closed apartment door.
The superintendent was pale with fright, coming up several times to plead with Lionel:
"Monsieur Sorel, please, do them a favor and say something."
Or suggesting:
"Why don't you just slip out the back door? The other tenants are complaining."
Lionel, of course, didn't agree, because the back door was also swarming with reporters lying in wait.
He hid behind the living room curtains, looking at the dense crowd downstairs, feeling utterly dizzy.
He recalled celebrities from his previous life being chased by paparazzi and finally understood the troubles of being a "top star."
"What a mess!"
Lionel couldn't help but sigh dramatically, muttering in Chinese.
This was truly an undeserved calamity!
He just wanted to quietly write novels; how did he get dragged into a war between two women, and in such an absurd way?
What irritated him even more was that A Study in Scarlet had indeed gained unprecedented attention because of this.
Both The Good Word magazine in London and Le Petit Parisien in France sent him telegrams, excitedly informing him of skyrocketing sales.
Lionel angrily tossed the letters onto the table.
All he wanted now was to resolve this farce as quickly as possible and return to his normal life.
On the evening of the third day of the siege, Lionel finally found an opportunity.
The restaurant owner on the ground floor agreed to help him sneak out through the kitchen's back door.
It led to a narrow, garbage-filled alley, usually noticed by few.
The owner was also suffering terribly; the crowd had prevented his restaurant from doing any business for days.
At midnight, the clamor of Paris gradually subsided, with only the occasional sound of distant carriages and wild dogs barking.
Lionel, wearing a dark coat and a low-brimmed cap, quietly slipped out of his room and descended the stairs to the ground floor.
The restaurant was already closed, only the kitchen light was on, and the sounds of washing dishes and a worker's grumbling could be heard.
He held his breath, quickly passing through the greasy kitchen; the plump head chef nodded at him, pointing to a slightly ajar wooden door.
Lionel gave a grateful look, quickly pulled open the door, and slipped out.
Just as Lionel breathed a sigh of relief, preparing to escape, a voice suddenly rang out beside him:
"Monsieur Sorel, will Madame Rothschild and Mademoiselle Scherbatova really take off their tops?"
Lionel was so startled he nearly died on the spot.
When he saw clearly, it was a reporter with dark circles under his eyes comparable to hot water bottles, holding a small notebook.
He genuinely got angry:
"You reporters, can't you report something positive? Always worrying about whether ladies take off their clothes, what kind of behavior is that!"
The reporter immediately became displeased:
"You can control me, but can you control what the people of Paris want to see?"
Seeing the reporter's voice start to get louder, Lionel quickly stepped forward and clapped a hand over his mouth:
"Whatever you want to ask, ask quickly!"
(End of Chapter)