Chapter 2: Son of Divine Favor
“No, there’s no need!” Lagrange grabbed Joseph’s shoulder forcefully, exclaiming excitedly, “This brand-new derivation is enough to prove your capability. I’ll return to the university today to apply for your academic credentials.”
“Then thank you very much!” Joseph was overjoyed, shaking free from the old mathematician’s grip. He bowed to him, then rushed out the door.
Lagrange had originally intended to deliver a speech, but found that Joseph had already left.
He paused, then quickly chased after him, calling out urgently:
“How did Your Highness come up with differentiable functions? Please tell me your thought process!”
The youths in the classroom looked at each other in dismay, and after a while, someone hesitantly asked, “Can anyone tell me, did the Crown Prince just graduate?”
“It seems so.”
“But he only just arrived today...”
The narrow-eyed youth glared at Joseph’s retreating back, seething, “No, he must have cheated!”
“The professor improvised the problem, and His Highness’s proof is a brand-new mathematical discovery. Duke of Chartres, if you believe cheating can achieve this, perhaps you should try it yourself.”
The Duke of Chartres stared at the formulas he couldn’t comprehend, feeling as if struck by lightning. He had always considered himself a prodigy among the younger generation of the royal family, yet now he couldn’t even understand a proof someone else had written...
'Could Joseph’s previous incompetence have all been an act, just to make him look foolish?'
He clenched his fists tightly. “Joseph, just you wait. Sooner or later, I’ll make you grovel at my feet!”
Joseph, of course, couldn’t hear their conversation, but even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared. It was just childish bickering. His mind was completely occupied with the fact that he could finally participate in politics, and how he would reform France to prevent the Great Revolution from breaking out and leading to heads rolling.
Lagrange caught up, panting, and pestered him with questions for a long while. Suddenly, he felt he had grasped something from the Crown Prince’s proof, and murmured to himself:
“'What if f(a) doesn’t equal f(b)...'”
He mumbled it a few more times, his expression turning serious. He hastily bid Joseph farewell and returned directly to his university office.
Joseph watched him walk away, then softly said:
“If f(a) doesn’t equal f(b), then that would be your Lagrange’s Mean Value Theorem. I wish you good luck in proving it a few years ahead of schedule.”
Once the old mathematician’s figure disappeared, he gestured to the attendant who had been following him:
“Eman, where is Her Majesty the Queen now?”
The tall, fair-haired young man quickly bowed and replied, “Your Highness, Her Majesty the Queen is in her tea room.”
Joseph nodded to him, then turned and ran towards the end of the wide corridor. The strenuous activity made him cough, reminding him that his pneumonia hadn’t healed yet—the original owner’s constitution was very weak, and the pneumonia had persisted for over a month with no signs of recovery.
He waved to Eman, who had come closer, indicating he was fine. After winding through another hundred meters or so, he finally saw the door to the Queen’s tea room.
'Starting today, I can finally showcase my abilities and begin saving myself!' He took a deep breath, then pushed open the door between the guards on either side and strode in.
In the warmly and elegantly appointed tea room, Queen Mary, her fair skin framed by an elaborate hairstyle two feet high, and her beautiful, light blue eyes, reclined in an oriental-style armchair. She held a document in one hand and a cup of black tea in the other, listening intently to the minister beside her. It seemed she was handling state affairs—Louis XVI spent his days immersed in his lock-making workshop, so the Queen managed governance most of the time.
Joseph sighed inwardly. 'Louis XVI was actually a rare benevolent monarch in French history, but he inherited a France riddled with problems. Moreover, he wasn’t adept at governing and was obsessed with lock-making, ultimately leading to widespread suffering and the outbreak of the Great Revolution.'
'In a time of peace, Louis XVI would likely have been a beloved and good king. Joseph actually had a decent impression of him, and if possible, he would very much like to save his life.'
From the side, the master of ceremonies announced, “The Crown Prince has arrived—”
Following court etiquette, Joseph stepped back half a pace with his right foot, faced Queen Mary, bowed with a hand to his chest, and then returned greetings to each minister in the room. Only then did he excitedly step forward and declare to the Queen:
“Mother, I passed my university mathematics graduation exam!”
A gleam of surprise flashed in Queen Mary’s eyes. She put down the document and joyfully clasped his hand:
“Joseph, you truly are your father’s and my pride!”
She had previously sent someone to verify the Crown Prince’s coursework, confirming that he had passed all subjects with excellent grades, with the exception of mathematics. This meant that, with his math studies now complete, he had finished his courses at the University of Paris!
Her expression was complex as she gazed at her son. “Why did you hide your self-study from your father and me? I mean, you could have easily studied with renowned masters.”
To explain his sudden transformation into a scholar, Joseph could only fabricate an excuse, claiming he had been privately studying for many years.
“Because...” Joseph bit the bullet and said, “I wanted to give you a surprise.”
“This surprise is truly wonderful!” The Queen picked up a strawberry-filled pudding and popped it into his mouth, then dotingly stroked his slightly curly hair. “How did you fit so much knowledge into that little head of yours?”
Nearby, a lean, tall man, dressed in a dark blue patterned doublet with a ruffled collar, its neckline adorned with a circle of sapphires, and with cold eyes, frowned and quietly asked the minister beside him:
“Archbishop Brienne, did the Crown Prince just say he completed university mathematics?”
The latter nodded. “It seems so.”
“How is that possible?”
“I’m quite astonished myself.”
Behind them, the Queen’s trusted secretary quietly added:
“It’s not just mathematics; His Highness has completed over a dozen courses at the University of Paris, including physics, chemistry, geometry, and English.”
The surrounding ministers immediately widened their eyes upon hearing this. “How can that be?!”
“I recall, isn’t the Crown Prince only thirteen years old?!”
“That’s simply unimaginable!”
“Indeed,” the secretary sighed. “The teachers who once tutored His Highness all called him the ‘Son of Divine Favor’.”
“Son of Divine Favor? Haha, with such a talented heir to the throne, France is destined for even greater glory!”
“Truly, heaven blesses France!”
Joseph ignored the ministers’ flattering words, pulled his hand free from the Queen’s, and said to her with some eagerness:
“Your Majesty, according to our agreement, may I now participate in politics?”
Queen Mary nodded dotingly. “That’s right, my brilliant son. Oh, and by the way, I suggest you start at the Paris City Hall to gain some experience.”
Joseph frowned. 'I’m supposed to reform France! To fundamentally prevent enraged citizens from slaughtering the entire royal family! What could I possibly do at City Hall? Manage urban traffic? Or wastewater treatment?'
He had seen many documentaries about the French Revolution, and deeply understood that France’s most critical problem was its finances—the collapse of governance, ineffective disaster relief, the discontent of the nobility, and other issues, all stemmed from financial collapse.
'Therefore, to reform France, I must first reform its finances!'
Joseph looked at the Queen and probed, “I believe, perhaps the Minister of Finance position would be more suitable for me.”
Queen Mary smiled kindly at his words. France’s financial problems were a persistent ailment; ever since Louis XVI’s ascension, almost all energy in court and government had been focused on resolving the financial crisis, yet they remained helpless.
'How could a thirteen-year-old boy, even a “Son of Divine Favor,” possibly bear such a heavy burden?'
She dropped her smile, thought for a moment, and said, “Joseph, if you’re interested in finance, you can start at the Paris Tax Bureau.”
Joseph knew this meant she didn’t trust his abilities, but it was understandable, given that he was only thirteen. He could only settle for a compromise:
“Then let me be the Assistant to the Minister of Finance?”
At that time, an assistant was essentially a Vice Minister of Finance, the second-in-command for financial affairs.
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