CH-088

88 The Stigmata Girl

As the bishop of the entire diocese, Shu Li's presence at the student representative assembly, even without speaking, itself signified support for the students' proactive proposals.

Especially with this assembly addressing the arrival of transfer students from the Principality of Sermon, Shu Li's attendance was undoubtedly a shot of reassurance, steadying the emotions of many students.

At the very least, they knew they were not alone and unsupported.

The total speaking time for student representatives did not exceed thirty minutes.

After it concluded, students from each college returned to their classes as usual.

It must be said that Shu Li had personally participated in student interviews, specifically assessing their character and disposition.

Because of this, the students at the grammar school generally possessed good natures, were well-mannered, courteous, and respectful of others, thereby cultivating a harmonious and manageable campus atmosphere.

Under these circumstances, students could not only study and live with peace of mind, but it also facilitated their management and guidance.

Precisely because the students were amenable to discipline, Shu Li felt more confident in introducing more cultural and recreational activities. He could even take them outside the Savoy diocese for exchange programs, camping trips, visits to historical sites, or academic discussions with scholars secluded in the deep mountains. Otherwise, student safety concerns alone would be enough to overwhelm him, let alone organizing off-campus excursions.

"…We come from different regions, yet we met and came to know each other at this school. Our paths in life may not cross again in the future, but the precious time we shared will undoubtedly stay with us throughout our lives." Finnian's tone was steady, his words sincere. "I hope we can respect one another and help each other succeed."

After these words, Finnian garnered considerable applause.

Shu Li scanned the audience, noticing a few students with guilty or flustered expressions, but none displayed the kind of spiteful, venomous looks described in novels—the kind born from shame turning into rage after being publicly corrected.

If such a student truly appeared, Shu Li would need to speak with them privately. If necessary, he would have that student monitored; any extreme behavior would result in suspension, expulsion, or even permanent dismissal.

Shu Li would not let one rotten apple spoil the whole barrel, even if that rotten apple were made of gold.

At the same time, he noticed the tense expressions on many students' faces ease slightly, and quite a few even nodded in agreement.

The assembly was neither too short nor too long.

After Finnian finished his speech, the assembly concluded.

Shu Li also observed that afterward, many students proactively approached the new transfer students from the Principality of Sermon, talking with them and attempting to break the ice.

He didn't particularly care whether these actions were genuine or merely a performance put on for his benefit as bishop; after all, they couldn't be truly malicious. Regardless of their motives, at least the overall climate of the school was developing in a positive direction.

Slightly unexpectedly, the student representative for the seminary this time was not the consistently outstanding Veronica, but another student.

However, Shu Li didn't inquire further.

It was possible that Veronica's grades last term had been surpassed by someone else.

The selection of student representatives was typically for a full term. Each time, it was based on the students' comprehensive qualities, including physical and academic performance rankings.

Among these, academic performance carried significant weight, accounting for as much as sixty percent, so student representatives were generally also top achievers academically.

Another possibility was that Veronica was feeling unwell today.

As a church bishop, Shu Li naturally had more contact with seminary students, whether teaching Latin, explaining doctrine, or performing pastoral duties.

Consequently, Shu Li interacted with Veronica more than with the average student, meeting for at least an hour each week.

His impression of the young girl was that she possessed a resilient nature and an extremely strong competitive drive.

Perhaps he should go check on her?

No sooner had this thought crossed Shu Li's mind than a small group of students gathered around him, blocking his path out.

Sometimes, Shu Li would suddenly feel a wave of social anxiety in such situations, an inexplicable awareness of being surrounded and crowded, which was somewhat unnerving.

But this feeling was quickly suppressed by professional composure.

The children looked up at him one by one. They appeared to be between twelve and fourteen years old, all unfamiliar faces—likely newly enrolled transfer students of appropriate age.

"Bishop Alis…"
"…Lord Bishop…"
The children, addressing the archbishop for the first time, were nervous and bewildered, their minds blank for several moments, only able to repeat Shu Li's title.

"…Bishop Alis, may I tell you something?" One child finally managed a complete sentence. "But you mustn't tell anyone else."

In truth, the children weren't yet familiar with the school's rules and regulations, nor did they know where they could find the archbishop once he left the assembly.

Before coming to the school, they had already heard many say that Savoy embodied the divine, able to hear the Lord's voice and repeatedly bring forth miracles, that he was forgiving and benevolent, bringing blessings to the entire diocese, making Savoy a happy and blissful paradise on earth.

He was practically the embodiment of the Lord.

Earlier, knowing he was present, they had watched him from afar the entire time, perceiving him as an immaculate, untouchable divine icon. Only now, standing before him, did they abruptly realize he was alive. Inwardly, they found their own previous thoughts absurd, yet also felt a sense of wonder.

Now, in his presence, they were not only struck by his remarkable appearance and refined demeanor but also noticed a warm, subtle fragrance about him—inviting closeness, yet forbidding any offense.

They were noble children from the Principality, raised with strict propriety since childhood and accustomed to grand occasions alongside their parents.

Now, seeing Bishop Alis, each of them seemed to regress to the tender age of four or five. Their hearts raced, words failed them, their eyes filled with awe and restraint, and even their breathing softened.

Shu Li, unaware of any serious topic causing the children to stammer so, checked the class schedule and said, "Alright, if this will take some time, come with me to my office first. I'll write you a note. If you're late, just give it to your teacher; they won't mind."

Afterward, Shu Li actually found that what they needed to say could be summed up in just a couple of sentences, leaving him puzzled as to why they hadn't spoken up sooner.

And whatever he said, they simply followed suit, as if he had cast a spell on them.

Regardless, on the way to his office, Shu Li asked for their names one by one.

The youngest among them was named Casca, only eleven years old, admitted to the school exceptionally due to his musical talent.

The truth was, upon hearing the name, Shu Li had tacitly approved his enrollment.

In fact, many refugees fleeing the Principality of Sermon faced two choices:

One was to eke out a living in a bustling, prosperous metropolis, though the inflated prices would surely prevent them from maintaining their former lifestyle. @Infinite Good Reads, All in Jinjiang Literature City

The other was to try their luck in the Savoy diocese, now marketed by Bishop Hugo as a paradise on earth. After all, this place centered on education, didn't overly emphasize social hierarchy, and the cost of living was low, allowing for a relatively comfortable and dignified life in the Northern Territory.

The downside was that the winters could be quite cold.

However, it was said that nowadays, as long as one stayed indoors during winter, the houses remained quite warm.

Unexpectedly, through such a twist of fate, the original character Casca also found his way into the Northern Territory.

In the original story, Casca fled with his family to the metropolis for refuge when he was young.

As the child of an impoverished noble family, he witnessed the full spectrum of human warmth and coldness, and the ugliness of the world, in that prosperous yet indifferent city. While still just a youth, to help ease his family's burden—unable to convince his parents to set aside their noble pride—he chose to perform alone on the streets. With a worn viol, he scraped together a meager daily sustenance, squandering the first half of his life.

The turning point in his life came with his famous composition, "The Void Mass."

At that time, the continent had not yet been engulfed by relentless war; Lesley had not yet risen against the Church; the Holy Crusaders still firmly held faith and order. Yet, even under such oppression, the populace still silently clung to the remnants of belief in their hearts.

Until that day, when Casca performed "The Void Mass" in a church. The piece, sorrowful yet not resentful, mournful as a tearful plea, seemed like a requiem played in advance for an old world on the brink of collapse. The entire city trembled, as if suddenly jolted awake from a nightmare.

The illusion of faith was torn apart. The once-numb populace confronted the Church's hypocrisy directly for the first time, and their long-suppressed anger was finally ignited.

After Lesley became emperor, Casca chose to return to his homeland and live in seclusion, never composing again. He quietly nurtured students, planting the seeds of music for countless successors.

People remember him playing the piano on the streets, and they remember him breaking the silence of an era with his quiet defiance.

And Shu Li remembered the innocence and hope in his eyes upon enrollment.

Back then, his eyes still held the apprehension of a newcomer, yet they shone brightly, pure and clear. His youthful voice declared, "My family has been devout believers for generations. I also wish to enter the seminary and serve my Lord for life."

No one would ever have imagined that, in the future, he would personally tear apart the faith clinging to his flesh and soul.

Hearing that Casca was among the group of children, Shu Li instinctively glanced at him again.

Casca gazed at the cross on Shu Li's chest—the emblem symbolizing faith and protection, gleaming faintly in the sunlight. A subtle stir rose in his heart, his eyes shimmering with admiration and reliance.

Then, silently, he instinctively found a small space to walk even closer beside Shu Li.

But he was quiet, not one to seek the spotlight, with a gentle, unassertive nature, like a seedling growing quietly against a wall, barely noticeable.

Shu Li didn't notice Casca following him like a little shadow the entire way.

*

The bishop's office was adjacent to the headmaster's, facilitating communication and oversight of students.

Shu Li patiently instructed the newly enrolled children: "If you need help, you can first seek out the vice-headmaster or your grade supervisor; they will arrange things more appropriately. The school also has an infirmary; if you feel unwell, you can rest there anytime. You're all boarders, so the school's basic facilities—like the library, dining hall, and baths—are all free for you to use. Don't worry about extra costs."

"If anyone tells you that you need to pay, just tell them Bishop Alis said it's not necessary."

He took the opportunity to impart some safety awareness: "In the Savoy diocese, even a three-year-old child cannot be touched casually without consent. Otherwise, the military will deal with it directly. The same applies to you. If you don't wish to be touched, just say 'no,' and that will be sufficient."

"When facing difficulties, trust your teachers."
"If the teachers aren't responsible for you, come find help at the church."

Regarding teacher-student interaction, his tone grew serious: "If a teacher or clergy member asks to speak with you privately—regardless of gender—either choose a room with a glass door where people can see inside, or simply leave the door open. If they refuse, you may leave immediately and come directly to me or the headmaster."

"Of course, if you wish to share a secret, we will close the door, but the curtain on the glass door must be pulled open."

He spoke methodically, clearly accustomed to looking after younger children.

The main reason for the curtain was that Shu Li sometimes snuck snacks in his office. To prevent his image from being tarnished by his own actions, his office's glass door had a row of curtains for cover.

Although once, after eating four or five oranges in one go, the entire room smelled overwhelmingly of citrus—a fact obvious to anyone entering—he stubbornly maintained that without being seen in the act, there was no proof.

"What did you want to tell me?" Shu Li felt he was rambling and quickly stopped himself.

The children, who had been listening attentively, reacted only upon his question, softly replying, "Veronica is sick."

"Hmm?"
Shu Li paused.

If she were merely ill, finding the nurse would likely be faster.
Why come specifically to him?
Had they been asked to?

Just as the question arose, a terrifying thought flashed through his mind like lightning—the Black Death.

Shu Li almost instinctively straightened his posture.

He knew all too well the incubation period of that scourge.

Usually, within one to seven days post-infection, acute fever would suddenly manifest, accompanied by body aches, nausea, and vomiting. The initial symptoms were indistinguishable from a common cold or fever.

And it was precisely because of this incubation period that such a highly contagious disease was even more dangerous.

Their medical conditions and laboratory equipment were still quite primitive; basically, Shu Li and his team had no way to produce test kits.

Therefore, Shu Li had to build a laboratory from scratch.

One must understand that while many antibiotics are discovered from natural microorganisms—like cultivating penicillin from oranges—achieving stable, usable forms requires purification, testing, and refinement in a lab. And if mass production was the goal, that presented an entirely new level of difficulty.

Establishing a laboratory, first and foremost, required starting with a basic microscope.

Currently, this world had no microscopes.

Manufacturing even barely usable optical instruments required high-purity glass, finely polished metal parts, and sufficiently stable illumination and support structures.

In an era where such technology wasn't widespread, one could only throw money at raw materials.

What truly gave him a headache was the personnel. Those who could grasp the principles of microscopy, fermentation, and sterilization were few and far between. Many recruited were traditional physicians who immediately launched into discourses on bloodletting therapy and the four humors theory; Shu Li screened them and sent most packing. Then, he had to start teaching them basic quantitative medicine and hygiene from the ground up.

The School of Engineering, in its first year, poured significant funds into supporting the School of Medicine.

It was only by the third year that the School of Medicine began to take proper shape.

To date, with Father Leighton's strong involvement, they had made initial progress in externally promoting the medical concept that "bacteria and mold can cause infection." They had established fairly strict Standard Operating Procedures for wound treatment and completed the "Diocese Practical Guide to Hygiene and Disease Prevention," strictly controlling sanitation in the diocese, implementing personal hygiene practices, starting with frequent handwashing.

Beyond that, the laboratory produced its first batch of household remedies, such as digestive aids, herbal anti-itch creams, and lavender oil—all more effective and reliable than ointments casually prepared at the apothecary.

Shu Li had naturally attempted penicillin extraction from bread and fruit, but the results were unstable, the purified substance containing impurities.

Stuck at this stage, Shu Li didn't know if it was a technological limitation or if he had reached the boundary of his own knowledge.

In modern medical technology, all these foundational steps were already complete; one simply moved forward. But here, these simplest, most basic elements were what stymied Shu Li's progress.

Shu Li hadn't studied these specific fields in his undergraduate years. Much of it relied on piecing together fragments from stories of scientists he'd heard or read about, attempting various minutiae to complete experiments.

By comparison, developing agriculture was relatively much easier.

Precisely because of this, when news of the Black Death emerged two years prior, even if Shu Li could extract some penicillin, he had little faith in his ability to completely cure this centuries-old plague.

After all, penicillin wasn't for controlling the plague.

They would need streptomycin or chloramphenicol—substances not obtainable through simple natural contamination, and far more difficult to culture than penicillin.

What they had done more thoroughly was implement prevention within the diocese.

They used the 14th-century 'Quarantenaria,' now familiar as 'maritime quarantine'—any suspected plague patient, or anyone arriving from a high-risk plague area, had to be isolated for forty days before entering the Savoy diocese.

This powerful measure, rigorously enforced by the iron-fisted military, ensured that at least the school within the Savoy pastoral diocese remained peaceful.

Recently, with the new term approaching, the school administration proposed that teachers and students already studying or employed in Savoy only undergo a two-week isolation period to ensure staff and student presence for normal school operations.

Seeing consensus on this, and given Savoy's long-standing excellent safety and hygiene record, Shu Li reasoned that the incubation period was just over a week, and people's hygiene awareness was relatively high, so he agreed.

He hadn't expected a loophole. Now the entire school would have to be sealed off and thoroughly disinfected.

"Could she be infected?"
Shu Li asked the children very cautiously, not wanting to alarm them with his demeanor. @Infinite Good Reads, All in Jinjiang Literature City

But the children came from that very danger zone; how could they not know what Shu Li implied? They immediately shook their heads. "No, no!"

"Veronica had a nightmare last night. When she woke up, she said she saw someone else's face in the mirror. This morning, she smashed the mirror, and her hands were covered in blood."

The children had their own thoughts on the matter. Exchanging glances at this point, they cautiously sought confirmation from Shu Li: "Was it a demon?"

Before Shu Li could respond, Casca behind him quietly explained, "That's impossible. The Edric family is a family bearing the Stigmata. The Stigmata is an unearned grace bestowed by the Lord, a sign that they are purely under the Lord's protection."

His voice drew everyone's attention to Casca's thin, slight frame.

Nervous, he hung his head but argued fervently for Veronica, "I've seen a pattern resembling a cross on Veronica, and it smells like roses. That must be the Stigmata!"

After saying this, Casca looked towards Shu Li.

"If such characteristics are indeed present, then it aligns with descriptions of Stigmata found in various records."

The children's doubts were dispelled by Shu Li's single sentence.

However, to Shu Li, this incredible phenomenon could be a somatic manifestation of mental illness.

This was the mainstream interpretation he was familiar with.

Driven by excessive piety combined with a religious background, psychological stress could convert into physical symptoms, like spontaneous bleeding—a classic case in psychiatry.

Furthermore, the process could potentially involve dissociative states, such as self-harm without conscious memory.

Additionally, strong autosuggestion could induce corresponding symptoms in believers.

Shu Li had previously learned of a typical case: in a family with one epileptic child, another initially healthy child, seeking parental attention, began unconsciously mimicking the seizure symptoms and gradually became convinced of their own illness. This condition is a form of factitious disorder, where deep-seated emotional needs lead to somatization of psychological conflict.

Such children require systematic psychological treatment.

Similarly, if Veronica's family itself harbored this pathological suggestion, she might, under psychological stress or subconscious imitation, manifest genuine physiological reactions at specific wound sites—for instance, actual bleeding points or bruises.

This could also be a somatic mimicry response, a typical conversion disorder.

"…Still, smashing a mirror is a rather extreme manifestation," Shu Li murmured.

The children spoke again: "Bishop Alis, could you go see Veronica?"

Shu Li glanced at the time; classes had started five minutes ago. "I'll walk with you to the academic building and see you to your classrooms. After that, I'll stop by and check on Veronica."

Hearing Shu Li agree so readily, the children were delighted. "Thank you, Lord Bishop! She'll be very happy to see you. She likes you very much!"

Shu Li recalled Veronica's calm face; she usually wouldn't initiate a greeting unless necessary. He hadn't noticed any particular fondness for him. "…"

He paused, then said, "You're welcome. And thank you for being so concerned about Veronica."

No sooner had he spoken than a bolder, more outgoing child proactively took Shu Li's arm. "Lord Bishop, may we come talk to you from time to time?"

Currently unfamiliar with their surroundings, the children naturally gravitated towards anyone approachable. Once they made good friends, they'd likely forget about Shu Li.

Shu Li knew this pattern all too well.

Still, he didn't refuse.

Shu Li finally escorted Casca to the music room—the boy was one of the few admitted exceptionally for musical talent. As they weren't a specialized music school, to avoid wasting his ability, the school arranged for him to attend foundational courses plus additional classes in musical performance and theory, taught one-on-one by a dedicated instructor.

Casca had barely dared to speak the whole way. Only as they neared the music room did his voice emerge: "I heard you can make music by blowing on a leaf. Is that true?"

Shu Li felt as if he were being put on the spot, half-expecting the child to produce a leaf the next second.

He had indeed, on occasion, performed leaf whistling to amuse the children.

Leaf whistling required selecting the right leaf, and the failure rate was quite high. However, failing to produce a sound was sometimes part of his act, so he didn't mind too much.

But this child's eyes were clearly filled with absolute expectation.

Failing now wouldn't be ideal.

Thus, Shu Li honestly explained that it required the right leaf, but he could perform a simple hand whistle to temporarily satisfy the child's anticipation.

He cupped his hands together as if holding an ocarina, aimed at the blowing aperture formed by his fingers, and blew gently. The lingering sound, like a birdcall from a secluded valley carried by a breeze, echoed through the corridor, seeming to breathe life into the entire silent academic building.

In that moment, Casca's eyes shimmered like a pond's surface struck by a stone, ripples spreading outward.

But Shu Li was also startled, not expecting such good acoustics in the building. He worried he might have disrupted the academic order. Indeed, sounds of scraping chairs came from various classrooms in the building.

"…"

Realizing he'd caused a commotion, Shu Li quickly ushered the child deeper into the corridor.

Once they reached a safer spot, Shu Li glanced around to check if anyone had noticed them—and his gaze happened to meet Lesley's.

Lesley was staring intently at the scene of Shu Li interacting with the child, lost in thought, his expression unreadable.

'Go to class.'

Shu Li raised an eyebrow slightly and mouthed silently, urging him to look away.

A flicker passed through Lesley's eyes.

But before their silent exchange could finish, a piercing, tearing scream shattered the air across the floor.

Immediately, panicked cries from students echoed one after another.

"Veronica—she fainted!!"

This was followed by the clatter of falling chairs, running footsteps, thuds of dropped books, and a cacophony of shouting students. The atmosphere tensed in an instant.

"Quick, get someone—!"
"Someone call the nurse?!"
"She's bleeding!!"

Some shouted for help, others rushed out of the classroom in panic, footsteps chaotic and frantic.

The tranquility of the academic building, in that moment, shattered completely into disordered fragments.