Chapter 256: Everyone, Stop Rioting! Go Sing and Dance Instead!
Early in the morning, the people of Nice gathered in a square in the southern part of the city, preparing to kick off their "18th-century free-for-all" as they had been doing recently.
However, people soon noticed the notices plastered everywhere—in fact, most people had one posted on their own front doors—but the literacy rate here was far lower than in Paris, so many hadn't bothered to read them.
A bright student from the church school eagerly read aloud for everyone:
"Her Majesty the Queen has decided to offer an opportunity for every aspiring and talented individual in France to realize their dreams. Whether you are an artisan, a laundress, a maid, or a farmer, as long as you possess a beautiful singing voice or graceful dance moves, you can register for the 'Star of France' competition.
"Competition categories: Singing, dancing, and instrumental performance.
"Locations: Laiqi Square in southern Nice, City Hall Square in northern Nice, and Jupese Town in the suburbs...
"Competition format: Professional judges will score based on performance...
"No registration fee is required. Those who pass the preliminary rounds will receive free food and drink. Each round advanced earns you a corresponding prize...
"The Nice city champion will receive a prize of 3,000 livres, and the royal family will fund their journey to Versailles for the grand finals. The grand finals champion will receive 30,000 livres and an opportunity to join the court orchestra."
"Anyone who can sing can enter? My daughter has a natural gift for singing!"
"My brother's dancing is recognized as the best in town. He might just win those 3,000 livres!"
"My cousin once studied at a music academy! You amateurs can't compare to her."
"Is registration at City Hall? I need to go check..."
Singing and dancing had an extremely low barrier to entry; anyone could try their hand at it. And people with mysterious self-confidence were everywhere. Even if one lacked confidence, they might have a family member or two who could sing or dance.
Such a golden opportunity to get rich couldn't be missed. Almost half the crowd immediately hurried away, to register themselves or their relatives and friends.
What people feared most was a lack of hope.
And once hope was given, people would instinctively grasp it.
Soon after, the middle-aged orator in the black short jacket reappeared.
His speech was still just as rousing, but its content had taken a complete U-turn:
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Those who committed evil have all been punished—by your own hands!
"Now, let us begin a new chapter in our lives. The hatred is over, but life must continue..."
The people looked at each other in dismay, finding his words indeed reasonable. Several estates belonging to the Duke of Durfort, who had previously hoarded reserve grain, had been burned by them. The nobleman's entire family was too terrified to return to Nice. Other nobles weren't involved in that affair, and the crowd suddenly seemed to lose its objective.
People looked around for the man with the scar on his face who had led them before, but he was nowhere to be found.
Even those who were usually the most active seemed to have vanished.
'Had they gone to register for the "Star of France" competition? Or did they feel their vengeance was complete and were unwilling to resort to violence again?'
The vast majority of the populace were a "rabble." They could shout along if someone led them, but organizing "activities" on their own was beyond them.
As the speech continued, people began distributing pamphlets to the crowd.
A literate person flipped through it and read a few lines, his eyes lighting up immediately. He unconsciously read aloud:
"'Alchemy, Level Three!'" Staring at the few dazzling words on the magic testing monument, the young man remained expressionless, a hint of self-mockery playing on his lips..."
Several people nearby were immediately drawn in, and urged:
"Why has that genius youth fallen to such a state? Please, keep reading!"
The story was too captivating; it was almost impossible to put down after reading just a single passage.
Soon, another group of people took their pamphlets to the shade of the trees, and read on like addicts.
When people reached about a third of the way through the pamphlet, they suddenly discovered an announcement inserted there: "Every day, between noon and 5 PM, the Church will sell bread at a 70% discount at five locations in Nice. Each person is limited to purchasing 4 pounds. Available while supplies last. The addresses are..."
The news spread rapidly, and people immediately couldn't stand still.
For the vast majority of people, bread was the core of their lives!
Bread at a 70% discount meant their staple could double!
In almost an instant, fewer than a hundred people remained in the square.
Most of those who remained, fixated on the "free-for-all," were minor nobles hoping to make a quick fortune, and some were vagrants so destitute they couldn't even afford bread at a 70% discount.
As they ignored the fervent admonitions of the orator upfront, and began to whisper about whose homes they could raid with their remaining numbers, a squad of police officers, dressed in crisp new grey uniforms and armed with Y-shaped wooden pikes, marched in formation towards them.
The lead officer shouted loudly to the people in the square:
"Go home immediately! The Nice Police Bureau is carrying out riot prevention duties!"
Another twenty-odd people were intimidated by this display, and silently departed.
Among the remaining crowd, a minor noble provocatively called out:
"Officer, even His Majesty the King cannot forbid us from strolling in the square, can he?"
The officer glanced at them, then waved to the middle-aged policeman beside him:
"Paul, take your men and follow them. If you notice anything unusual, blow your whistle immediately to raise the alarm."
"Yes, sir!" Paul led eight police officers to the side of the sixty or seventy remaining individuals, and stared at them with icy gaze.
Riots, by their very nature, thrived on that wild, irrational momentum.
With a group of law enforcement officers nearby, constantly reminding you to keep your wits about you, no one had any desire to riot.
Finally, the crowd in the square dispersed. A few officers remained to patrol, while the others followed the officer from Paris and headed north towards the city.
Meanwhile, in a rural parish in the province of Provence, a church priest approached a group of agitated farmers who were preparing to march to the nearest city to join the riots. He first raised his hand and made the sign of the cross, then took out a document, and said in a gentle voice:
"Listen, everyone. This is a decree just issued by His Majesty the King."
"Are they raising taxes again?" Someone shouted loudly.
The priest waved his hand:
"No, Anouk, it's a decree abolishing feudal privileges."
"What?" The farmers were stunned, and looked at each other in bewilderment.
"Let me read it to you," the priest said, skipping past the formal preamble of the decree. "Effective immediately, the lord's right to compel peasants on their land to work for them is abolished...
"The lord's right to designate hunting grounds is abolished...
"The lord's right to unilaterally alter tenant agreements is abolished...
"The abolition of..."
As the farmers listened, their eyes grew wider and wider. This was simply unimaginable!
If all this were true, their future lives would undoubtedly become significantly easier!
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