CH-039

July fifth.

After regaining consciousness, the first thing Deputy Archbishop Hugo did was invite the young Father Alistair to stay with him in his sickroom for a few days.

The people outside may not yet have sensed the coming storm, or they may have already had a vague premonition of ill omen. But the two sitting inside the room had long since understood — at its core, this wedding was the opening salvo of a battle.

This wedding had carried the smell of blood and rusted steel from the moment the Duke arranged his cavalry to inspect people and gifts at the Carson City square. He was so young, and yet as always since his youth, full of wild ambition, still fighting to the death against an unjust fate.

And now he had raised his first blade — aimed directly at the Carson ecclesiastical district.

Deputy Archbishop Hugo had long since heard that the Northern Lands Duke was developing mines and new military weapons. Even this rumor had attracted no small number of spies dispatched from various principalities and the church. Yet after years of lying low, Duke Claude had unexpectedly chosen to form a marriage alliance with the Archbishop of the Grand Cathedral's daughter, offering goodwill to the church, signing a peace agreement and willingly allowing the church to exercise certain administrative powers.

This was plainly not normal behavior. Scripture had long since warned: "All seek their own things, not the things of the Lord." Faith was not something that appeared overnight. For many people, faith was only a means of achieving ends, of maximizing self-interest. For the ordinary people of Carson City, faith let them avoid taxes. For the Duke, the union of divine and secular authority in Carson City could drive economic development and social stability. He could legitimately replicate this model across other ecclesiastical districts, while simultaneously lulling the Grand Cathedral's guard. He needed vast amounts of money — it was what the Duke needed most right now.

But would he truly allow the church to hold sway over the growing forces? Certainly not. What name would he use then? The answer had long been written on the cavalry's bodies. This wedding would become the pretext for purging the key clergy of Carson City — the Duke's personal cavalry would, under the name of eradicating heretics, drench the church in blood. At the same time, the church positions would be openly replaced with men loyal to the Duke.

Deputy Archbishop Hugo had also once doubted whether he was being too suspicious of the Duke. But when they met this time and he saw that the Duke still wore the silver ring he had worn since his first wedding, he knew the Duke had never forgotten those two people executed by the Emperor in the Grand Cathedral.

This marriage, just like his first, was nothing more than a political product. And in the instant Hugo saw that silver ring, he also foresaw his own future — rather than die in a bloody purge, better to make a dignified end of it himself. Until he encountered his own fate and miracle —

Now Deputy Archbishop Hugo gazed with eyes full of affection at his small priest eating the grapes he had given him. These were Alexander muscat grapes — one of the most ancient varieties, among the few that could be both eaten fresh and used for wine-making, commonly seen at noble banquets. Hearing from a deacon that Father Alistair had eaten nothing but terrible black rye bread in Savoie pastoral district for months, hadn't even dared eat more than a little of the good grapes the church provided, and had been reduced to eating wild raspberries — the old man's heart ached.

He couldn't bear to imagine what a hard life the priest had been living.

"Ah......" Deputy Archbishop Hugo sighed involuntarily. Shu Li glanced at him at the sound. Hugo, noticing, said: "Good child, eat more. I have plenty more if that isn't enough."

"No need — this is enough," Shu Li replied. He wasn't particularly interested in this small cluster of muscat grapes. Though these were muscat grapes, they weren't the modern cultivars — crisp, large, and sweet. These grapes were small, slightly thick-skinned, a bit firm, with fairly soft flesh. The fragrance was there, and they were sweet enough, but the texture was poor — the sort that in a supermarket would be sitting there unsold, having been there too long and with nobody buying them.

In any case, in a modern supermarket, Shu Li had seen this kind of grape sitting untouched. He felt raspberries were genuinely several times better — fresh, crisp, plenty of flesh, sweet and abundant.

Not wanting Hugo to keep watching him eat, Shu Li naturally picked up the thread of the earlier conversation — how had Deputy Archbishop Hugo known the Archbishop's suicide was fake?

At the time, "the Archbishop fell into the well" — Hugo had been inside the medical room. According to what he had heard, when Deacon Gideon rushed to the bell tower chapel and was also stunned by the blood-weeping statue, he had completely lost track of what was happening elsewhere.

Had he woken up in the sickroom, gotten information from the people around him, and made his own judgment?

When Shu Li asked about it the first time, Deputy Archbishop Hugo had distracted him with fruit, making it clear he didn't want Shu Li to understand this case. But the small priest was genuinely sharp. He kept looking for topics, always watching Shu Li with his eyes. It was truly uncomfortable.

And so Shu Li asked a second time, and Deputy Archbishop Hugo finally came back from the young priest's lean face.

Outsiders rumored that this young man, self-described as carrying divine power, might be one of the papal candidates. But Hugo knew perfectly well — this young man was the bottom-ranked graduate of the Grand Cathedral's church school, with no particularly strong background and no great web of interests, possessing only a pure and sincere faith. Someone like this sent to the north was most likely being used as a sacrificial pawn. Many priests had died on the road to their posts or during their tenure in pastoral districts over the years — most of them people with entangled interests in the Grand Cathedral. It was more than enough to show that the Northern Lands had been keeping a close watch against church personnel sent over from the Grand Cathedral, which was why Savoie pastoral district had been left barren for so long.

And yet, of all people, it was this one nobody had expected anything of who kept triggering miracles: accelerating crop growth, cultivating new wheat varieties, summoning awe-inspiring divine demonstrations. How could one not look at him differently?

Most unexpected of all was that Hugo had encountered the divine image first before meeting the man himself — and only then realized with a start that the statue hadn't captured even a tenth of the man's divine quality! The real person was someone you could stare at endlessly and still not have enough.

The more Hugo learned about him, the more he felt this young man was an absolute treasure bestowed by heaven, a divine child sent down by the Lord Himself to save the world, a person of priceless celestial bestowal.

Now hearing him ask a second time about this, Deputy Archbishop Hugo had actually been reluctant to let the young man hear too much of the ugly political reality — not wanting to dirty his ears — and had planned to brush the question off. But the small priest was genuinely sharp.

And so Deputy Archbishop Hugo, before answering, gave Shu Li an apricot first. The apricots had bright yellow skin and thick, juicy flesh. The moment he passed one over, the small priest accepted it. One bite in, the small priest's eyes brightened at once. Hugo quickly had a second apricot ready in hand.

This was what it felt like to feed a small deity. Deputy Archbishop Hugo felt moved and happy inside.

But his next words would be less sweet than the apricot: "Yesterday, after Damian and I met about the unexpected matter of the statue, when you all came hurrying in, Damian was quick to have me take charge. After I fell unconscious in the bell tower and later woke up here, I heard that at the very moment we first saw the statue weeping blood, the Archbishop had already died."

Shu Li understood and said: "You mean — Ecclesiastical Prefect Damian already knew the Archbishop was dead, which is why he instinctively had you take command?"

Deputy Archbishop Hugo's eyes brightened, as though in awe of Shu Li's response: "As I expected — you are truly too clever!"

"......" Shu Li suddenly felt like someone who had just worked out that 1+1=2 and was then being vigorously praised as a genius by the honorary dean of a prestigious institution.

To shake off the awkward discomfort this brought, Shu Li said, munching on the apricot: "But he probably isn't the killer, is he?"

Hugo replied: "Though Damian covets the Archbishop's position very much, he would have no reason to stir up a killing at this particular time. Right now Duke Claude is looking for any excuse to cause trouble with the church. A death among the clergy right now would be far more of a liability than an asset — unless someone had given him better terms."

"After the Archbishop died, it would be the Deputy Archbishop who succeeds," Shu Li said. "Aren't you afraid he's trying to push you out as the sacrificial lamb?"

"To tell you honestly — because you appeared, I have already decided to step down from the Deputy Archbishop's position."

Shu Li was caught off guard: "Why?"

"All these years, I have been thinking about what the relationship between faith and the faithful truly is. It was only after meeting you that I finally confirmed — genuine faith is not about how many believers one has, nor about how I carry out the mission entrusted by the Lord. It is about whether faith can light a lamp in the darkness."

As he spoke, Shu Li found himself thinking back again to that old man who had chased after him at a dead run, asking about "the Lord and light."

Deputy Archbishop Hugo's eyes gleamed with hope and anticipation: "I want to build in the Northern Lands a grammar school that can rival the military academies of the south — not merely to transmit knowledge, but to let the light of faith enter more people's hearts. Even if they have not yet come to the Lord, or even have no intention of ever believing in anything, they can still come to know benevolence, justice, and truth — learning in their own way to understand the world, and ultimately bringing hope to more people. I am only seventy, Father Alistair — I feel I can still keep going, keep doing more!"

The words seemed to have already left the Carson ecclesiastical district far behind him, as though it could simply continue operating under its existing framework of divine authority.

"You can," Shu Li said. And after saying it, still not feeling it was enough, he said it again: "I believe you absolutely can."

In a dungeon, separated by only a wall, he had still managed to shape the male lead into the top graduate of his whole military school — of course he could carry out his ideal.

Deputy Archbishop Hugo was greatly moved and inspired by Shu Li's words, and he kept pressing more fruit on him: "If you don't have enough, I'll have Damian send you more."

Shu Li's hand, just in the act of peeling an apple for Hugo, paused. He had already been stuffed with grapes and two apricots during the conversation. "I've already eaten quite a lot — right now I'm peeling this apple for you," Shu Li hurried to deflect, putting the cut apple pieces in front of Hugo. "You have so much more to do in the future, and right now you need to rest more."

Hearing Shu Li say this, Deputy Archbishop Hugo immediately complied, looking at that plate of apple pieces as though receiving a grace-filled offering of divine intent — actually pressing one hand to his cross and beginning to bow his head in prayer: "Thanks be to the Lord for His gifts."

With that, the air around them also fell into quiet.

From the gravity of Hugo's bearing, Shu Li felt a worldview entirely unlike his own. In truth, he felt that even though Deputy Archbishop Hugo's words were perfectly coherent, there was clearly still a symptom of clouded consciousness left — an inability to accurately identify people, a kind of irrational behavior. This might have been worsened by the head trauma — aggravating cognitive impairment — or it might be inducing Lewy body dementia. Such things were not uncommon in the modern world either. In his internship days, Shu Li had heard of an elderly person who repeatedly mistook delivery workers for their own grandchild, gifting them cash and valuables multiple times; another elderly person who would mistake strangers for their own relatives and sign property agreements.

The social support systems in this world had very little awareness of such conditions, and no adequate safeguards. Shu Li could only hope that as the head injury healed, Hugo's symptoms would ease along with it.

At his age, hitting his head was very serious. He was already supposed to be careful just walking around — a head injury brought all manner of complications.

Shu Li thought to himself. Still, it was fortunate that at this time, at this moment, it was he who had encountered the male lead Leslie's golden-finger grandfather. At least Shu Li could vouch that he himself wasn't a bad person.

Take good care of him first. Just based on the man's ideals alone, he deserved to be protected.

And besides — Leslie as things stood probably wouldn't be imprisoned in the dungeon anymore. So Deputy Archbishop Hugo naturally couldn't be sent in either — otherwise they would never meet. If Hugo were sent to the dungeon, would Leslie's golden finger still be there?

Shu Li furrowed his brow, feeling uneasy about something.

Thinking it through more carefully — if something happened to Hugo at this wedding, what would happen to the others? After all, Hugo right now was the nominal head of the entire Carson ecclesiastical district. He represented ecclesiastical order and clerical authority. If the Carson church had a crisis, the upper hierarchy would hold him accountable, and he would be the first pushed out as the sacrificial offering.

Shu Li was turning it over, watching his patient's condition at the same time. Seeing the old man obediently finish the apple before he set aside the tart-tasting fruits from the fruit basket: "If you've taken medicine, those sour fruits aren't for you. They'll interfere with absorption and won't be good for your body."

Seeing the old man comply once more, which showed he was fairly cooperative, Shu Li then gently guided him to lie back and rest.

Deputy Archbishop Hugo still wanted to refuse, but a warm hand came and rested lightly over his eyes. Shu Li's voice was low and steady: "May the Lord protect you. In this moment, may you have a good dream. There is no urgency, no need for alarm — all things are under the Lord's watch. If there are trials ahead, He will guide us through them."

*

Leaving Deputy Archbishop Hugo's sickroom, the time was approaching the evening meal hour. All the district priests were again brought to the dining hall, where they had dinner together with Ecclesiastical Prefect Damian. In the dining hall the candles flickered, the long table already set for dinner, the air full of warm wheat fragrance. People had dressed for evening prayers, but the head seat at the top of the table stood empty — waiting silently for someone to return and take their place. That empty chair, set against the row upon row of neatly arranged clergy, felt conspicuously cold and solitary.

Yet as the minutes passed, Ecclesiastical Prefect Damian still did not appear.

A voice full of apprehension softly broke the uneasy atmosphere: "Surely nothing has happened to the Ecclesiastical Prefect as well?"

After all — a statue bleeding tears, with no one able to offer any explanation. No one could deny it: any terrible calamity might descend at any moment.

Fear spread like wildfire. Deacon Gideon, coming in from outside in a hurry, suddenly shattered the heavy silence with a voice full of panic: "Trouble — Ecclesiastical Prefect Damian's office is on fire!!"