After all the vineyard owners had signed the contracts to plant potatoes, Joseph then kindly expressed that a specialist would soon handle their membership into the French Brewing Technology Association and teach their brewers the corresponding techniques.
Lastly, he also warmly reminded everyone to beware of those cellars that were using the new brewing technology without authorization.
Pasteurization, when it comes down to it, is quite simple; it's about controlling the temperature and heating time, and those who have come into contact with it could easily leak it out. But now, France has patent laws and a patent office, so if anyone dares to use the patented technology casually, they better be prepared to pay until they're bankrupt.
The vineyard owners present immediately declared, with shared animosity, that they would diligently supervise everything with all their might.
After all, competitors are enemies; they wish for fewer rivals so that their own sales would be better. And since they had paid membership and patent usage fees, how could they possibly sit by and watch those who weren't members "freeload"?
Even more so, some were already pondering how to buy the bankrupted parties like Count Ledney's industries at a low price after their downfall.
After praising everyone's loyalty to the King, Joseph left the Yalsen Cellar.
As he arrived at the gates of Yalsen Manor, he suddenly slapped his forehead, realizing he had forgotten someone. So he instructed Eman, "Count Eman, please invite Mr. Venio over."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Before long, the Crown Prince's carriage convoy slowly set off, leaving the grape plantation.
In the carriage, Joseph smiled towards Venio, "Mr. Venio, you see, just as I said, everyone was very eager to request the planting of potatoes."
Recalling the bet between the two, Venio immediately replied with an admiring tone, "Your Highness, what you have done is simply astonishing. Please command me as you wish; I will do everything within my power to accomplish it."
Joseph nodded with satisfaction, "Then let me thank you in advance for the hard work you will be putting in. The promotion of potato planting in Bordeaux has had certain effects, so there are other similar places that can also use this method to promote, such as Burgundy, Provence, and so on."
Upon hearing this, Venio immediately understood the Crown Prince's intent, his eyes lighting up — both Burgundy and Provence were wine-producing regions, and although their production was less than Bordeaux, the brewing industry there was also significant.
As long as they used the new brewing technology as bait, repeating Bordeaux's script, he believed many vineyard owners would be willing to plant potatoes.
Joseph added, "Right, Brittany and Normandy can also promote potatoes in this way."
"Ah?" Venio was puzzled, "Your Highness, but these places don't produce wine..."
Joseph smiled slightly, "But they have the beer industry. My brewing technology is not just effective for wine, it works for beer and spirits as well."
His eyes wide, Venio exclaimed, "This technology is simply too incredible!"
"It can even be used to preserve milk." Joseph added casually, looking towards Venio with a smile, "I hope you can represent me in these places, promoting potato planting through brewing technology. Of course, I will provide the necessary staff for you."
With exceptional oratory skills and passionate about potato planting, Venio was just the right person for the job. With him traveling back and forth, Joseph could save a great deal of energy.
Immediately, Venio bowed deeply, "Your Highness, it's an honor to serve you. I will definitely satisfy your expectations!"
He then discussed some important details with Joseph about the "technology for potatoes" trade, and finally couldn't resist asking what he had been most curious about recently, "Your Highness, could you tell me how you manage to improve the success rate and quality of brewing without even being involved in the process?"𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎
Joseph didn't hide anything; after all, the "patent law" offered protection, so there was no fear of leaks, "Mr. Venio, failures in brewing and poor quality are related to the sourness of the wine. Do you know where the sourness comes from?"
As someone who managed a cellar and was fairly knowledgeable, Venio promptly answered, "There are several possibilities, such as poor quality of grapes, or the control of brewing time being imprecise..."
After letting him finish, Joseph shook his head with a smile, "The factors you mentioned may have some effects, but they are not the fundamental cause."
Immediately, Venio's eyes widened, "The fundamental cause? What is that?"
"Lactic acid bacteria."
"Lactic acid bacteria?" Venio was confused, "That seems to be a type of bacteria?"
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Joseph nodded, "That's right, it's the stuff used for making yogurt."
"But that is yeast." Venio blurted out.
"That's a misunderstanding." Joseph corrected him, "In fact, it is something completely different from yeast. It breaks down proteins or sugars, releasing lactic acid, which is the source of the acidity in wine.
"And these bacteria are found everywhere in nature, so during brewing, they easily contaminate the grape pulp or water, thus causing the wine to sour."
"Fortunately, they are very fragile. They just need to stay in an environment at 60 degrees for half an hour, and they will be completely dead."
Thoughtfully, Venio said, "So according to you, just by heating the raw materials used for brewing to 60 degrees and maintaining it for half an hour, we could solve all the problems?"
"Indeed so."
Astonishment spread across Venio's face, "Is it really that simple?!"
"That's how science works, without the process of exploration, the conclusions are often not complicated." Joseph said with a nodding smile.
The next morning, as Joseph was having his luggage packed to return to Paris, Governor Montsorro and Venio suddenly arrived in his room.
Joseph was somewhat surprised, still having two more hours before his scheduled departure time; why had these two come to see him off so early?
After the greetings, Montsorro seemed quite embarrassed as he said, "Your Highness, please forgive the intrusion, but after discussing with Mr. Venio, we felt it would be better to inform you about a matter."
"What is it? Please, speak," Joseph said.
"Well, Viscount of Joubert, Viscount of Vienna and Baron of Chappelier wish to have an opportunity to show their loyalty to His Majesty the King. I mean, they want to plant some potatoes."
Seeing that the Crown Prince had no recollection of these names, Venio hurriedly reminded him, "Your Highness, they did not attend the meeting the next day."
Montsorro continued, "Your Highness, they have expressed a willingness to plant potatoes on half of the cultivation garden's area."
Joseph frowned slightly. Venio quickly persuaded, "Your Highness, they know they were wrong and are pleading for your forgiveness..."
Joseph was aware that these three had also spent a significant amount of money, especially to have the Governor intercede on their behalf.
It was a classic case of "Refuse the wine and be forced to drink the dregs." In that case, let them bleed a little more; planting more potatoes would be beneficial nonetheless.
So, he said with an impassive face, "Tell them to plant potatoes on two-thirds of the cultivation garden's area, and the membership fee will be doubled. That will suffice."
Montsorro's face relaxed, and he promptly bowed, "Yes, Your Highness, they will surely be grateful for your kindness and generosity."
As for the nobles who had yet to receive the message or were still hesitating, they had lost their last chance to join the Brewing Technology Association. A bleak future awaited them.
...
A few days later, the Crown Prince's carriage entered Paris.
Looking out the carriage window, Joseph saw that quite a few public toilets had been constructed along the streets, with citizens going in and out. From time to time, there were also carts collecting manure, filled with fertilizer, being pulled by horses towards the outskirts of the city.
The streets were plastered with signs reading "Do Not Urinate or Defecate Anywhere At Will," and police officers were watching passersby with an eagle eye. Anyone who appeared to be about to relieve themselves on the spot would immediately be met with a whistle and a stern reprimand.
The results were quite apparent, with street feces reduced by seventy to eighty percent. However, there were still "fish that slipped through the net" who relieved themselves on the streets, leaving behind traces. It was not surprising, as cultivating a habit of public hygiene in citizens was not something that could be achieved overnight.
At this moment, Paris was becoming one of the cleaner and more orderly cities among the major cities of Europe.
Joseph took a deep breath, feeling that the air in the city was much fresher, no longer bearing that constant sensation of walking through a toilet.
As the carriage passed the Seine River, whether it was psychological or not, Joseph even felt that the river water had become somewhat clearer.
In fact, with the reduction of feces on the streets, the pollutants washed into the Seine during the rain had indeed decreased significantly. Even the Parisians drawing water from the river could vaguely sense that the taste of the water was becoming "milder."
This also prompted them to pay more attention to the issue of relieving themselves in public, with many citizens beginning to report those who did so on the streets to the police.
When the carriage passed a rather deserted public toilet, Joseph instructed the driver to stop, and then he got out of the carriage and curiously entered the facility.
Inside was a large pit latrine, divided by wooden boards into four squatting areas, with handrails thoughtfully installed on the boards. Opposite the squatting areas was a long row of urinals; overall, it was quite well-appointed.
After relieving himself, Joseph left the public toilet contentedly, but after a few steps, he suddenly felt that something was not quite right.
He turned around to look - it seemed like everything that should be there was present...
Suddenly, he realized something and his face darkened—were there only doors to the men's toilets?!
Recalling the public toilets along the way and after questioning Eman, he finally confirmed that indeed, they all only included facilities for men.
After Eman grasped why the Crown Prince was dissatisfied, he tried to explain, "Your Highness, perhaps they assumed that ladies rarely relieve themselves on the streets."
Joseph sighed. It was truly bothersome; without his specific instructions, things just wouldn't be right...
The carriage resumed its journey, and as it neared the city center, more and more posters promoting fashion week appeared on both sides of the street, along with road signs with arrows and inscriptions in multiple languages at the intersections.
```
According to Joseph's arrangement, more than a month earlier, advertisements for Fashion Week had already been placed throughout Europe, with advertising costs alone totaling over one hundred thousand livres.
However, the effect was significant, with nobles from all countries now discussing Paris Fashion Week, even to the extent that over seventy percent of the high-end hotels at Tuileries Palace had been booked.
One could imagine that once Fashion Week officially opened, a massive influx of foreign tourists would pour into Paris, freely spending gold coins, creating a historically memorable gala.
...
In the south of Paris, near the suburbs, a villa was hosting a gathering.
Most of the attendees were military officers. Their circle wasn't too fond of salons, so gatherings like this became their most common way to socialize.
In an inconspicuous corner of the gathering, a major with teeth black as pitch swirled his glass and said, "Auror, tell us about the activity patterns of those despicable police officers."
The tall and lean lieutenant beside him immediately nodded respectfully and said in a hushed tone, "I've had my men watch that police training ground for over ten days. They conduct artillery training every three days..."
The surrounding officers immediately showed looks of disdain:
"A bunch of stinking police officers have gotten their hands on cannons!"
"Hmph, they're lucky if they manage not to shoot the cannonballs into their own camp."
"Exactly, cannons are not something those sorts of people can handle!"
Auror continued reporting on the police academy, "On the day they train with the artillery, they'll have a session in the morning and another in the afternoon, with an interval..."
After he finished, the major with the black teeth asked, "Have you investigated all the villages around it thoroughly?"
Auror nodded, pulled out a map, and pointed to a rectangular shape in the center, "This is that damned training ground, and these circles represent farmhouses."
The major looked at it for a moment, then pointed to a circle on the north side, "How far is this from the police training ground?"
"Half a league."
"A bit far, what about this one?"
"Slightly over a third of a league."
"Good, it's this one. Additionally, there's a dense forest nearby." The major with black teeth revealed a cold smile, "Cecilian, you and your men will be responsible for vigilance."
He pointed to the north side of the training ground on the map, "Right here. Auror, you'll be in charge of transporting the cannon and also removing it after we've secured it. If anything unexpected happens, hide in this dense forest first.𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞
"According to your intelligence, the police's last training session is after 4 p.m. If you delay just a bit, night will fall, and then you can calmly return to the barracks."
"Yes, sir!"
The major then looked at the blond, short-statured man sitting opposite, "Komu, you and your men will take care of the shooting. You'll only have one chance to fire, and you must hit that farmhouse, then quickly withdraw into Paris City."
"Alright, you can count on me."
"Auror, when's their next training?"
"The day after tomorrow, sir."
"Good. Tomorrow you'll go again to familiarize yourselves with the terrain, and you'll take action the day after tomorrow," the major with black teeth raised his glass and said fiercely, "Cheers! Those lowly police officers dared to insult our General and the French Guard, we must give them a memory they won't forget!"
These men were officers of the French Guard.
Last time, the commander of the French Guard, Besanval, had been shamed after being forced to retreat from outside the police school training ground at gunpoint, regarding it as an immense disgrace and blaming it all on the head of police school administration and the Director of Paris Police.
Of course, as a high-ranking officer, Besanval knew that dealing with those two would require political tactics, but his subordinates only wanted to have their revenge immediately immediately.