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Chapter 104: France's Strongest Biologist

Joseph felt a little awkward from Bessançon's praise. 'The wisdom of public toilets, indeed?'

He understood, though. After all, without his intervention, Paris wouldn't see its first public toilet for another half-century.

He continued, "Oh, and trash bins. On Paris's main streets, a large stone bin will be built every 60 to 100 meters for passersby to dispose of their waste."

Bessançon nodded repeatedly as he listened, then suddenly thought of a problem and quickly said, "Your Highness, building these public toilets and trash bins will likely cost a fortune, and they'll require many people to maintain them afterward."

As Commissioner of Police, he naturally thought deeply about the implications. Joseph nodded. "The construction costs will be covered by treasury appropriations. As for management, that can be entrusted to your 'Daily Affairs Team'."

"Hmm, the waste from the public toilets can be transported away and used as fertilizer. Someone should be willing to do that proactively. Your 'Daily Affairs Team' should only need to handle the cleaning; they should be able to manage."

Bessançon hesitated again. "Your Highness, the citizens might not be very cooperative..."

"Have notices posted on the streets, and I'll have the newspapers cooperate with the publicity," Joseph said after a moment's thought. "We'll call it the 'Beautiful Paris' campaign."

"Oh, and of course, the police will primarily supervise. Those who relieve themselves anywhere or litter will be promptly warned. Those who repeatedly refuse to change their ways will be penalized by having to clean the toilets."

After Bessançon departed, Joseph gazed at the empty streets outside the window and murmured to himself, 'Perhaps we could also lay down some wooden tracks and develop urban rail transport. With wooden tracks, a two-horse carriage should be able to pull more than ten people. It would also allow the artisans to familiarize themselves with track-laying techniques, which will be very useful in the future.'

'Alas, it all requires money... Why is France so poor?'

Eman's voice came from outside the door. "Your Highness, Count Lamarck has arrived."

"Oh?" Joseph was slightly surprised and quickly said, "Please, show him in at once."

The door opened, and Lamarck stepped forward, bowing with a radiant smile. "Crown Prince, I went to Versailles to find you, and they said you'd moved here. So I came to see you. I'm relieved to see you looking well."

"Please, have a seat," Joseph said, returning the bow. "This is thanks to Doctor Perna, who regularly checks on me."

"It's her duty," Lamarck said with a smile and a nod, then pulled out a glass bottle. "Look, this is the latest tocopherol we've refined; it's extremely pure now."

Joseph took the small bottle and saw pale yellow, very fine powder inside.

"Your technique truly is exquisite."

"Oh, that's all thanks to the constant-temperature chamber you had built," Lamarck replied, his eyes fixed on Joseph, as if subtly reminding him of something.

"The constant-temperature chamber is finished?" Joseph exclaimed, surprised.

"Yes, Your Highness. We actually failed once in the process, but Mr. Lasseni and I enlisted the help of the palace artisans, and we finally succeeded. Now, the temperature can be maintained within a range of no more than five degrees Celsius, which greatly aids in refining tocopherol."

He looked at Joseph with eager anticipation. "So..."

'?'

Lamarck grew anxious and directly stated, "Your Highness, you once said that with a constant-temperature chamber, we could create a miracle drug capable of curing incurable diseases like pneumonia, puerperal fever, and the Black Death. Have you forgotten?"

"Oh, yes, that's right," Joseph realized, as it dawned on him that Lamarck had come for the penicillin. He'd been so busy lately that he'd completely forgotten about it.

He quickly nodded. "Then, I'll visit the pharmaceutical workshop tomorrow and tell you the production method."

Lamarck stood up excitedly, placing a hand over his chest. "Splendid! Your Highness, if this medicine can be successfully produced, it will save countless lives!"

Joseph then sternly cautioned, "Doctor Lamarck, this medicine is extremely important; it must be kept absolutely secret! Naturally, I will also dispatch guards to protect the pharmaceutical workshop."

"Please rest assured, I will not reveal a single word to anyone!"

The following morning, Lamarck arrived at the Industrial Planning Bureau, unable to wait. Clearly, he had set out before dawn.

Joseph ate a simple breakfast and was practically dragged by Lamarck into a carriage.

He had spent the entire previous night dealing with grain procurement, and his mind was still filled with wheat and bread... There was no other way; the time left for him to prepare was truly running short.

As the carriage rattled along, Joseph remembered that he was sitting opposite France's most brilliant biologist. Perhaps he would have a solution. "Count Lamarck, is there any way to prevent crops from being destroyed by hail? Oh, I mean hail this large."

He raised a fist to illustrate.

Lamarck frowned. "That's likely impossible, Your Highness. Hail of that size can damage even young trees."

Joseph sighed helplessly, then heard Lamarck continue, "Unless you plant potatoes, in which case some of the harvest might still be saved."

Joseph paused, then his eyes gradually brightened.

'That's right! Why didn't I think of that? The main part of the potato grows underground. Although July isn't harvest season yet, they would have grown to at least seventy or eighty percent of their size.'

This was infinitely better than wheat and other crops being utterly destroyed!

Of course, there was also a drought this year, so potato harvests wouldn't be ideal, but immediately promoting potato cultivation throughout France could still alleviate the famine to some extent.

Lamarck shook his head again as he spoke. "However, the French don't eat these."

Joseph asked, puzzled, "Why do you say that? I often see foods like mashed potatoes at Versailles."

Lamarck chuckled. "Only nobles eat them, and then, only in Paris."

"Huh?"

"You didn't know?" Lamarck spread his hands. "Apparently, someone once ate potatoes with sprouts and was poisoned, which led to rumors among the common people that potatoes were poisonous."

"Later, some even claimed that potatoes came from 'devils of the underworld.' Because they grow underground, they were called 'ghost apples' and considered inauspicious, believing that eating them would bring bad luck."

"As the rumors spread, people even started saying that eating potatoes would cause strokes, lung disease, and leprosy."

"Oh, sensible people know that's all nonsense, but ordinary citizens believe it. During a famine in Naples once, the people there preferred to starve rather than eat potatoes."

Joseph asked, "Then why don't the nobles care?"

Doctor Lamarck explained, "That's all thanks to Her Majesty the Queen. Doctor Parmentier believed potatoes were an excellent food, so he recommended the plant to the Royal Family."

"Her Majesty the Queen loved the potato blossoms, so she pinned them to her chest and even tried the taste of potatoes. As you know, the nobles at Versailles love to imitate Her Majesty's actions."