Life of Being a Crown Prince in France - Chapter 1122 - 1028: The Strongest Steam Fleet

Chapter 1122: Chapter 1028: The Strongest Steam Fleet

At nine in the evening, a violent banging on the door startled Sapina, who was immersed in his studies.

The over-50-year-old Sapina frowned and opened the door, and his neighbor Mabelde rushed in, shouting loudly:

“Roman! Roman, Kevin’s not breathing! Save him quickly!”

Sapina was startled and instinctively wanted to find Teacher Viedon—who lived in the village church—but suddenly remembered that today was “Game Day,” and he had returned to Reims and wouldn’t be back until the morning after next.

Sapina hurried out from inside, only to see Mabelde looking anxious, carrying her son Kevin on her back. Correct content is on .

He moved the light closer and saw the child rolling his eyes, his face turning purple, and showing no response.

He took the child and asked Mabelde, “What happened?!”

“He sneaked an olive in the evening and then this happened… Please think of a way, I beg you!”

Sapina placed his fingers under the child’s nostrils and couldn’t feel any breath. He then checked the carotid artery, which still had a faint pulse.

He thrust the candlestick at his father, fumbling around to take out the “Preparatory Physician Manual,” searching under symptoms for “unable to breathe,” which had three branching scenarios.

Following the search result, he turned to page 37 and saw the item “Choking due to food or swallowed object,” with no time to read the diagnostic process carefully, he directly looked at the “Treatment Method.”

It printed: First recommended treatment—Heimlich maneuver.

Sapina hadn’t studied this part carefully before, but fortunately, there was a detailed illustration in the back. He quickly followed the drawing, placing little Kevin in a standing position, having his father hold him steady.

He glanced again at the “Manual,” moved behind the child, reached around the child’s upper abdomen, and, according to the “Manual’s” requirements, gave a sudden upward thrust with both arms.

Kevin, under the tremendous pressure, opened his eyes and gagged.

Sapina exerted force again.

There was a faint “pop,” and an olive flew out from the child’s mouth.

Kevin immediately made a gasping sound, as if snatching his soul back from the grip of death.

Sapina hurried to check the child’s breath, feeling a warm stream of air immediately sweep over his fingers.

He again looked at the “Manual,” instructing Kevin to lie on his side and wiping the drool from his mouth.

About three or four minutes later, the child slowly opened his eyes, and the purple color on his face began to fade.

Mabelde’s wife cradled the child’s head, her face full of tears, murmuring:

“It’s okay, Kevin’s okay now…”

“You are truly amazing, Dr. Sapina.” Mabelde clutched Sapina’s hand tightly, bowing repeatedly, even changing his form of address, “Thank you so much!”

Then, he fished some banknotes out of his pocket: “Um, how much is the consultation fee?”

Sapina waved it off, “You must not have heard Father Carlo’s announcement; I don’t charge here.”

“This…how can this be?”

“It’s the rule, and the government will provide me with a subsidy.”

The Mabelde couple once again offered profuse thanks, carrying the now-awake child back home.

Early the next morning, Sapina, rubbing his sleepy eyes, headed to his field—he indeed was quite lazy and physically frail, so he seldom did farm work, but today was his family’s turn to use the water pump, which he had to attend to.

However, before he reached his field, he could see from afar two figures busy in the wheat field.

“Who’s there?” he shouted loudly.

Mabelde and his eldest son Gilles straightened up, waving to greet him: “Roman, to thank you for saving Kevin, we’re turning over your field. Your land’s all compacted.

“Oh, I’ll handle the watering later.”

“This…how can this be?”

“It’s nothing, you can go home. Leave this to me.”

At noon, Baber from the east side of the village brought his child to see Sapina, claiming the child had diarrhea and fever.

Sapina administered purslane juice according to the “Manual,” along with the “Prince’s Blessing,” and instructed Baber to give the child lightly salted water but to make sure the water was boiled first.

This time, he charged a 2 Sou fee for the medication.

As more people were cured, Sapina’s reputation grew, and he became even busier.

The stipulated four-hour consultation time per day was far from enough; he had to take consultations for at least eight hours, sometimes working from dawn till dusk.

However, the crops at Sapina’s home were better tended than before—villagers, wishing to allow him more time to treat patients, had taken over all his family’s farm work.

By the time Viedon left the village a month and a half later, Sapina had already become a very skilled doctor.

At least he became extremely proficient at flipping through the manual.

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Outside London Port.

British Sea War Minister, Admiral Jervis, stood on the deck of the newly constructed first-class battleship “Neptune,” his face gloomy, gazing at the distant sea, occasionally picking up his binoculars to take a look.

In his mind, the report from the diplomat who returned from Lisbon this morning kept replaying.

Five days ago, the Danish Regent gathered most of the “International Ocean Convention Organization” member countries to celebrate the “First Great Victory of the Ocean Convention.”

Frederick had the audacity to proclaim that the British Navy lifting the blockade on France was due to the “collective pressure from over 80 member countries of the Ocean Convention,” calling for the “member countries to unite even more, bringing about a more stable order for the global oceans.”

The most infuriating part was that they even invited Britain to participate!

A bunch of ignorant clowns! Jervis cursed in his heart. If it weren’t for Congress to save naval expenses, even if those 80 countries’ navies were tied together, they wouldn’t dare to threaten the Royal Navy.

Finally, a long, low whistle echoed from afar.

Jervis’s eyes instantly brightened.

He knew, that was the steam battleship “Avenger” newly built by the Chatehan Royal Shipyard.

It was a standard fifth-rate battleship equipped with 36 cannons, larger than any steam warship equipped by the French people.

Powered by three powerful Engine52 steam engines, it could reach a terrifying speed of 12.4 knots with the wind.

And today was its maiden test voyage!

This new type of battleship would soon be mass-produced, with the first batch numbering 20 ships. In addition to the already rapidly producing “Comet-class” steam frigates—eventually numbering over 40—England would possess the world’s largest steam fleet.

By then, the Royal Navy would return to the Mediterranean Sea, letting the French know who truly is the master of the oceans!

Soon, the “Avenger” trailed thick black smoke, swiftly passing by the port side of the “Neptune,” leaving two white foam trails on the sea surface.

Subsequently, the gun ports of the “Avenger” opened, firing a series of salutes to the officers and dignitaries in attendance.

Just as Jervis and others were clapping with excitement, a grating “creak” sound suddenly came from inside the “Avenger,” and then no more black smoke emerged from the chimney, its speed slowing down instantly.