It was evident that Furen did not yet wish to go to this "Kinghanston District Life Improvement Company" to seek employment. So he said to the coachman:
"Thank you, but I don't need it right now. I'll first go to the National Library in Trier. Tell me, what are the opening hours of that company?"
The coachman replied thoughtfully:
"Actually, I've never been inside this business, but many customers, when they come to Kinghanston, first make inquiries about it. So I have some idea about it. From my observations, most people get what they want done between nine in the morning and six in the afternoon. I gather this company must be open at those hours."
Furen nodded, acknowledging the coachman's deduction. Yet he couldn't help but be a little surprised by the man's expression: few coachmen observed things so carefully and even drew conclusions from them. A little intrigued, he asked him:
"You sound like a real coachman. Why are you still doing this job?"
The man, obviously educated, smiled simply:
"Actually, I'm not very knowledgeable. When I worked as a clerk, I often drove cabs in the noble and wealthy districts. At first, I earned little, and I was often the target of ridicule. But with practice, I became more skillful and received help from some kind people. Today, I have my own carriage, and I can even go to the National Library in Trier to read."
"Glory to the great God of Steam, whose light has illuminated my mind," added the coachman, visibly moved by his own words. Embarrassed by the fact that he was working, he did not trace the triangle on his chest, then quickly explained:
"Please don't blame me, I am a devotee of the God of Steam. It was thanks to the night school founded by His believers that I learned to read as a child. It changed the course of my life. I hope I don't offend you. May I ask which deity you worship?"
Furen replied with a slight smile:
"I am happy to hear that reading has transformed your destiny. Your story is like a window onto a new world for me. I, too, am a devotee of the God of Steam. May your future flourish."
As he said this, Furen traced a triangle on his chest, as if to complete the gesture the coachman had not made.
They then remained silent until they arrived at the National Library in Trier. As they got off, Furen tipped the coachman again and said:
"I have little else to offer you to bless you. Accept this modest tip, and may your day be bright."
The coachman nodded, visibly touched by Furen's kindness, and replied:
"Thank you, sir. I wish you the same happiness. Praise be to Steam."
Then, having a moment's respite, he finally traced a triangle on his chest.
Furen responded with the same gesture, and the coachman, satisfied, cracked his whip before trotting off, leaving the street where the library was located.
Standing alone behind and watching the coachman leave, Furen thought back to what had just happened. He remembered the moment when he had, without even realizing it, traced the triangle in response, and shuddered at the thought of the religious fervor of the people of this world.
And yet, he told himself, this was only an ordinary believer, not a fanatic or an ascetic.
A former staunch atheist in his previous life, Furen felt a certain unease. Being immersed in an environment so different from his own certainly aroused his curiosity, but the loneliness that enveloped him was all the more oppressive.
With a mixture of curiosity and weariness, Furen became fully aware of the traveler's melancholy. Yet he did not let himself be discouraged. After a short moment of reflection, he regained his composure and prepared to accomplish what he had set out to do.
He looked up at the immaculate whiteness of the National Library building in Trier. Instead of going inside immediately, he checked his watch: it was a little after nine, almost ten.
His hollow stomach rumbled, and he felt a growing urge to explore the surroundings. After all, "What you read on paper remains superficial; to truly understand, you must act yourself," and no, it wasn't laziness.
He then looked around: the library stood alone, with no adjacent buildings. It wasn't so much its dazzling whiteness or its high floors that made it stand out, but rather the emptiness all around it. There was only one entrance; the other three sides opened onto open spaces.
Walking around the building, Furen discovered that it was surrounded by a vast circular plaza. Around this plaza, the houses were arranged in a radiating pattern, and the first row of buildings housed almost exclusively businesses, including several restaurants.
He made a second turn reading the signs:
"Mrs. Carter's Bakery,"
"Uncle Ayan's Butcher Shop",
"Restaurant with Flavors of the Bay of Disy",
"Fenebot's Creperie",
"The Taste of Backlund"…
So many intriguing names that piqued his curiosity. Swallowing, Furen chose the one that spoke to him the most: the "Disy Bay Flavors Restaurant," because he remembered that Disy pies were a dish Klein greatly appreciated. Being the fake gourmet that he was, Furen didn't want to miss the opportunity to try it.
Upon entering the restaurant, he was immediately struck by the marine atmosphere of the place: azure blue tones dominated, and the air itself seemed imbued with an oceanic breath.
Guided by the urging of his stomach, he crossed the threshold. At this hour between breakfast and lunch, there were only two or three customers, already a respectable crowd.
Hearing the doorbell, the employees interrupted their conversation and walked briskly towards Furen:
"Hello, sir! What would you like to order?"
The flower smiled:
"Shouldn't I sit down first and take a look at the menu before choosing?"
The waiter, a little confused, replied in a contrite tone:
"I apologize. Our Disney pie is so famous that many customers order only that before leaving. I acted out of habit. Please forgive me."
Then, hurriedly, he led Furen to a free table.
Meanwhile, Furen surveyed the place. The decor, dominated by blue and white, was soothing; the waiters wore blue vests over white shirts, with black trousers. Everything, down to the smallest details, evoked the sea.
A gourmet curiosity was then awakened in him: he was eager to discover the flavor of this famous dish.
(End of chapter.)