The process thereafter was, rounding up, pretty much like Vanni taking Anning out on a date around Paris.
At least that's how Anning imagined it.
In his previous life, Anning only went shopping with girls in groups; he hardly ever had the experience of strolling around with a girl alone.
After all, before he transmigrated, he was too busy grinding 996 for his future, with no time to consider personal matters.
Vanni took Anning to a tailor's shop to buy clothes, then to a general store to purchase everyday items such as wallets, and finally, they enjoyed a cup of coffee at a café on the streetside.
As the sun began to set, Anning finally returned to the vicinity of the Royal Palace, sitting in a rented carriage provided by Vanni.
As soon as he got off the carriage, he heard someone delivering a speech to the crowd in the street.
The speaker, a noble wearing a wig, was gesticulating wildly, exclaiming to the crowd: "In the New Continent, people have already driven away the King, and then they proclaimed that all men are created equal! If the New Continent folk can do that, so can we! Why should the nobles and priests be naturally more noble than us?"
Anning slowed his pace a bit because the man talking, dressed like a noble, was actually speaking out against noble privileges...
Just as Anning was puzzling over this, someone in the crowd jokingly said: "Marbury! Where did you steal another roll of fake hair from?"
The speaker roared: "I am a noble by birth! But it is precisely because I am a noble that I know, we are not that great; it's just an extra 'de' in our names! That doesn't make us smarter!"
Anning thought for a moment and finally remembered who this person was.
Gabriel de Mably, an Enlightenment thinker, a utopian socialist—if he wasn't mistaken—was already seventy-one years of age, and yet he was still giving speeches in the public spaces of the Royal Palace.
Then someone in the crowd shouted: "Come down, Mably, I came here to hear stories about the Queen's escapades!"
"And the tales of Madame de Lamballe's escapades!" another person added.
"All you know are these salacious stories! But what I am talking about is the rights of every individual! You will never become the citizens Rousseau speaks of this way!"
The elderly gentleman began cursing.
Anning was watching with great amusement when Vanni suddenly coughed, drawing his attention.
"If you just live in the Royal Palace, you can witness scenes like this every day. What Paris has no shortage of is speeches and debates, as well as dueling," said Vanni. "We should hurry inside; it's almost dinner time."
Anning: "Is this kind of thing really that common?"
"Yes, it's getting dark, and the trouser-wearing gents have finished work and have a habit of going to a tavern for a drink. The Duke rents out his properties with some of the best taverns in Paris in them. So at this time, folks like the trouser-wearing gents gather around here, and people like Mr. Mably will come to preach their beliefs to them."
Anning muttered: "Trouser-wearing gents..."
Books about the French Revolution in later times tend to label the Parisian commoners as sans-culottes, to emphasize their distinction from the nobility.
This 'trouser-wearing gents' is probably the origin of the term 'sans-culottes'.
Vanni stepped forward and pushed Anning's back: "Come on, it's time to eat."
And so Anning was pushed all the way back to his quarters. At that moment, a few young men dressed as nobles came out of the side door of the Royal Palace and happened to face Anning.
Anning heard the muttering from Vanni behind him, pushing him along: "Damn, still ran into them."
It seems Vanni knew something.
"Look, could this be the leatherworker's son that Christina mentioned?" one of the young nobles pointed at Anning and said, "After all, he is followed by Christina's obstinate little maid."
——Well then, recognized by the little maid.
Another young noble nodded: "Definitely him, look at those ill-fitting clothes! He's trying to pass as a noble, like we can't smell the leather polish from his shoes from a mile away!"
It seems these nobles, they equate leatherworkers to shoe polishers.
Anning frowned, the obvious provocation in their tone irked him greatly.
Therefore, he held his head high and chest out, responding neither arrogantly nor humbly: "I am indeed the leatherworker's son, Andy Frost. What guidance do the gentlemen have for me?"
As soon as these words dropped, Vanni whispered in a low voice: "Don't be provoked by them, they like picking on people like you!"
"Guidance?" The group of noble youths looked at each other, then crowded around, "You asked for our guidance! Let me see, those breeches of yours don't quite fit, do they?"
"Of course not! After all, he has been wearing long pants since he was born. Suddenly switching to breeches, how could they fit?"
"Right, right, he looks like a pig in breeches!"
The noble young men burst into laughter.
Before Anning could retort, one of the young nobles added: "When I heard Christina talk about your brave deeds, I found it strange. Aren't you a drummer? How could you beat a fully armed robber?"
Another young man quickly followed up: "I think it was dark, and the robber slipped and fell onto his knife!"
"Or it was like this, he actually wanted to polish the robber's shoes," the third young noble mimicked a begging pose, "Oh great robber, let me polish your shoes, please see, your shoes are all muddy. My father is a leatherworker, I'm skilled at this! And then the robber believed him, prepared to take off his shoes, and our leatherworker hero seized the opportunity to chop off the robber's head!"
The young men laughed uproariously once more.
Anning was fuming with rage, but then he suddenly remembered Vanni's words, that the most common things in Paris were speeches, debates, and duels.
With the system empowering Anning, theoretically, he could never lose a duel with a Western Sword.
Thus, Anning pulled out the gloves he had just bought and precisely threw them onto the face of the noble youth who was the first to come out of the Royal Palace.
The young nobles all fell silent at once.
Anning finally got the chance to speak, raising his voice: "Since you doubt my swordsmanship, why not experience it for yourself? I hear that duels are common in Paris; surely you all must be seasoned duelists."
At that moment, Vanni came over and tugged at Anning's clothes, whispering in his ear: "What are you doing? Duelling with nobles, if you lose, you could lose your life, but if you win, you'll invite trouble! His parents will hold a grudge against you for a lifetime!"
Anning thought: No, after I win, the young master's parents would at most hold a grudge against me for nine years, then it will be time for them to choose their favorite lamppost design.
Once the great revolution begins, all those nobles can freaking go to hell.
Right then, the noble youth who Anning had thrown the glove at, asked through clenched teeth angrily: "You've got some nerve, do you know who I am?"
Anning: "I don't care who you are, even if you are the son of His Majesty, I will still duel you. Do you dare accept the challenge of this leatherworker's son, if not then shut your mouth and piss off!"