Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Early in the morning, the people of Nice had gathered in a plaza to the south of the city, ready to kick off the "Eighteenth Century Zero Expense Purchase" event just like before.

However, some soon noticed posters everywhere—actually, posted at almost everyone's doorsteps too, but the literacy rate here was far behind Paris, so many hadn't bothered to read them.

Some enthusiastic top students from the Church school began to read out loud for everyone:

"Her Majesty the Queen has decided, to provide every dreamer and talented individual in France with the opportunity to realize their dreams. Whether you are a craftsman, a laundry worker, a maid, or a farmer, as long as you have a beautiful singing voice or exquisite dance moves, you can sign up for the 'Star of France' talent competition.

"Competition content: Singing, dancing, musical performance.

"Location: Leix Plaza to the south of Nice, municipal hall plaza to the north of the city, suburban Jupesai Town…"

"Competition format: Judges will score performances professionally…"

"No registration fee required, and you'll get free food and drinks if you make it through the preliminaries. Advancing each round will bring corresponding prize money…"

"The City of Nice grand champion prize is 3,000 livres, and the Royal Family will sponsor the winner to travel to the Palace of Versailles for the final competition. The grand final champion will win a prize of 30,000 livres and get the chance to join the court orchestra."

For a while, people almost forgot what they had come for as they discussed the competition with its ridiculously generous prizes:

"So anyone who can sing can participate? My daughter was born with a great voice!"

"My brother's dance is the best in town, recognized by everyone. He could land those 3,000 livres!"

"My cousin studied at a music conservatory for two and a half years! You amateurs can't compare with her."

"Is the registration at the city hall? I've got to check it out…"

Singing and dancing are activities with very low barriers to entry; practically anyone can give it a try, and overly confident people are everywhere. Even if not confident, a household might still have one or two relatives who can dance or sing.

Such a great opportunity to get rich quick was not to be missed, and almost half of the crowd hurried off to register themselves or their friends and family.

What people fear most is the absence of hope.

And once given hope, they immediately reach out for it subconsciously.

Then, the middle-aged speaker in a black jacket appeared as before.

His speech was as incendiary as ever, but the content had taken a 180-degree turn:

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, those who committed evil have now been punished, and it was by your own hands!"

"Now, let us begin a new chapter of life, the hatred is over, but life continues…"

People exchanged glances, feeling that he made a lot of sense. Several estates belonging to the Duke of Durelph, the noble who had smuggled stored grain, were burnt down by them, and the entire noble family was too afraid to return to Nice. Other nobles seemed uninvolved and suddenly, the crowd seemed to lose its direction.

People looked around for the gentleman with a scar on his face who had previously led them but found no trace of him.

Even the usual most active individuals seemed to have disappeared.

Had they gone to sign up for the "Star of France"? Or did they feel that they had had their revenge and no longer wished to resort to violence?

The majority of the public are a disorganized crowd that requires someone to take the lead; left to their own devices, they struggle to organize "activities" themselves.

As the speech continued, someone started handing out pamphlets to the crowd.

Some literate people skimmed through a few lines, their eyes lighting up, and they couldn't help reading out loud:

"'Alchemy, level three!' Staring at the dazzling words on the Magic Stone Stele, the young man's face was expressionless, with a hint of self-mockery at the corner of his lips…"

A few people nearby were immediately attracted and urged:

"Why has that genius young man fallen to such a state? Please continue reading!"

The story was so captivating that nearly anyone who started reading it found it impossible to stop after just one section.

Soon, another group of people arrived under the shade of the trees with pamphlets in hand and addictively read on.

By the time people reached one-third of the way through their pamphlets, they suddenly discovered an announcement inserted within—between noon and 5 p.m. every day, the Church was selling discounted bread at 30% of the usual price at five locations in the City of Nice, with a limit of four pounds per person. The sale would continue until sold out. The addresses were as follows...

Word spread quickly, and people could no longer stand still.

For the vast majority, bread was the core of their lives!

Discounted bread meant their core could double!

In almost an instant, there were fewer than a hundred people left in the square.

Most of those who were fixated on "zero-cost shopping" were minor nobles looking for a quick fortune and some were beggars so impoverished they could not even afford the discounted bread.

As they murmured lowly about which family they could rob under the earnest persuasion of the speaker in front, a squad of police in brand-new grey uniforms, wielding Y-shaped wooden forks, marched past.

The leading officer called out loudly to the people in the square:

"Go home immediately! The City of Nice Police Headquarters is carrying out a riot prevention task!"

Over twenty more people were intimidated by his authority and left in silence.

Within the remaining crowd, a young noble provocatively shouted:

"Officer, even His Majesty the King can't forbid us from taking a walk in the square, can he?"

The officer glanced at them and waved to a middle-aged policeman beside him:

"Paul, take your men and follow them. If you spot any irregularities, blow the whistle immediately."

"Yes, sir!" Paul, along with eight policemen, approached the group of sixty or seventy people and watched them with an icy stare.

Riots thrive on that kind of irrational, frenzied momentum.

With such a group of law enforcers nearby, constantly reminding you to stay rational, nobody was in the mood to start a riot.

Finally, the crowd in the square dispersed. A few policemen remained on patrol, while the rest followed the officer from Paris towards the north end of the city.

Meanwhile, in a village parish of Provence, the Church's priest approached a group of farmers who were furiously preparing to travel to the nearest city to join the rioting. He raised his hand to make the sign of the cross and then took out a document, speaking in a gentle voice:

"Everyone, listen to me, this is a decree just issued by His Majesty the King."

"Are they going to raise the taxes again?" someone shouted loudly.

The priest waved his hand:

"No, Anouk, it's a decree to abolish feudal privileges."

"What?" The farmers were suddenly stunned, exchanging puzzled looks.

"Let me read it to you," skipped the priest over the preamble, "Effective immediately, the right of the lord to use the serfs of the estate for personal labor is abolished…

"The right of the lord to designate hunting regions is abolished…

"The right of the lord to unilaterally change the terms of tenant contracts is abolished…

"Abolished..." Read exclusive chapters at empire

The farmers' eyes grew wider and wider as they listened, this was simply unbelievable!

If all this were true, their lives would undoubtedly become much easier!