— Monastery Second Floor, Office —
He Ye followed Director Matthews all the way into an opulently decorated office, complete with a sandalwood desk, ceramic vases, and mountains of paperwork.
Throughout the walk, Nicole trailed faithfully at his side, undistracted.
Only when Director Matthews indicated that no outsiders should be present did she finally realize she shouldn’t follow. Left outside, she poked listlessly at the glass of the rose window, utterly puzzled by its intricate patterns.
“Now then, you may speak, Leon.”
Director Matthews settled into the seat across from him, addressing him with intimate familiarity.
Assuming it was merely a display of approachable warmth, He Ye paid it no mind. After carefully choosing his words, he spoke with measured patience:
“It’s like this. I would like the orphanage to take in a child. She doesn’t need to stay long—just until she learns a viable trade.”
“You mean the young lady waiting outside?” Matthews stroked his white beard.
“Yes. I know she has passed the typical age for an orphanage, but she is an orphan—an orphan through and through.”
At this point, He Ye feigned a posture of deep sorrow. He cradled his face in both hands, his tone dripping with pity:
“Her parents were both killed in the war. She never received an education, and her mind is rather slow, which forced her to wander the streets for quite some time. When I first met her, she was even picking half-eaten bread out of the sewer to survive…”
Though he hadn’t witnessed it with his own eyes, it felt entirely like something she would do. Hiding his face in his hands without managing to squeeze out an actual tear, his voice nonetheless resonated with genuine, heartfelt sincerity.
“And what is your relationship to her?” Director Matthews asked, sighing with emotion.
“A chance encounter.” He Ye looked up.
Matthews froze, the warmth in his eyes softening further, as though tears were about to spill over. He spoke slowly:
“Your heart is truly benevolent.”
“You flatter me, you flatter me,” He Ye replied earnestly. “So, regarding this matter, how much do you think it would take to arrange?”
He Ye knew his current cash might not be enough to seal the deal, but fortunately, he still wore an expensive wristwatch—a birthday gift from Mist. It had to be worth at least ten or twenty thousand kronen.
“No, no, Leon. With a soul as pure and sacred as yours, how could such a deed be measured in mere coin?”
Deeply moved, Director Matthews stood up and walked around the desk, taking He Ye’s hands into his own before He Ye could even react.
“Then… what do you mean?”
He Ye was momentarily at a loss.
“Aiding the ‘deserving poor’ is the sacred duty of this orphanage. It requires no additional donations; your kindness is the most precious treasure of all,” Matthews said with utmost sincerity. “I will admit the child as a novice nun to study theology and astronomy, which will allow her to secure a position within the Church in the future.”
With that, Matthews began gently caressing the back of He Ye’s hand, as though soothing him for the hardships he had endured along the way.
He Ye was genuinely touched. He couldn’t help thinking that this director truly possessed a noble soul.
“Your kindness far surpasses mine, Director,” He Ye said.
“Far from it, far from it,” Matthews replied with a wistful shake of his head.
A brief silence fell between them, like two kindred spirits gazing into each other’s eyes. Yet throughout this pause, Matthews never released his grip. His fingers even continued to stroke the back of He Ye’s hand with subtle affection, causing He Ye’s expression to turn slightly awkward.
Fortunately, in the very next breath—
“Now then, would it be convenient for me to witness your Heart Toward the Dao?”
Matthews finally let go, stepping over to stand before a side door in the office, his expression turning solemn and devout.
…Heart Toward the Dao?
He Ye was baffled.
Then, Matthews pushed the side door open, revealing a bedroom within.
A statue of the priest was embedded directly into the wall. The entire room resembled a cramped prayer room, yet it was vastly larger. Four red candles burned at the four corners of the chamber, framing a soft, luxurious Simmons mattress in the center, while a deeply relaxing fragrance drifted through the air.
He Ye sensed that something was dreadfully wrong.
Yet he still couldn’t be entirely certain. Gritting his teeth, he stepped inside, licking his dry lips.
He listened as Director Matthews introduced this specialized prayer room, explaining that truly benevolent souls needed to receive the priest’s personal gaze. If the priest recognized the goodness in one’s heart, a spot in the orphanage would naturally be granted.
“Therefore, offer your prayers to God.”
Holding a black leather-bound scripture, Matthews spoke, having changed into a different set of robes at some unknown moment.
Fine, fine, I’ve already come this far… He Ye had no choice but to play along. After all, Director Matthews seemed so kindly and approachable; he could just go through the motions of praying.
The director told him to close his eyes.
The director told him to clasp his hands in prayer.
The director told him not to open his eyes.
Rustle, rustle…
…?
For some reason, an acute sense of danger flared in He Ye’s instincts. A bead of cold sweat seeped from his forehead. Even so, he chose to trust—though he had no idea what he was trusting, he chose to believe!
“Um, Director Matthews…” He Ye’s voice trembled slightly as he called out the man’s name, seeking a shred of reassurance.
“Shh—”
A soft hush whispered right beside his ear.
“I am the priest,” the man said.
He Ye: ?
Finally, an uncontrollable surge of sheer absurdity rushed through his chest. He Ye’s arms trembled violently. Deep down, he knew the truth was exactly what his worst fears suggested.
He should have remembered that there was no such thing as a free lunch in this world. Things marked as “free” almost always carried a terrifying, hidden price tag.
Hehehe.
A hand groped his backside.
Fuck no, anything but that!
Horrified, He Ye snapped his eyes open and stumbled backward in panic! Before him, Matthews stood grinning slyly, rubbing his hands together like a giant housefly as he crept closer. Terrified out of his wits, He Ye clenched his fist and hurled it forward with everything he had, whipping up a gust of wind like a ferocious Haymaker!
“Get the fuck away from me!”
Crack!
A golden tooth went spinning through the air.
“Aaaaargh!”
Ten minutes later.
“Hurk…“
“Blegh… urgh…“
“Dammit… what the… fuck…”
An alleyway off Narcissus Street.
An English gentleman was leaning against the brick wall, dry-heaving violently. His expression was as agonized as a man suffering the worst hangover of his life; even wiping the corners of his mouth felt like an impossible luxury beneath the crushing wave of pure revulsion.
Yes, it was He Ye.
Just ten minutes ago, he had fled Saint Matthew Orphanage in utter disgrace.
He didn’t even want to recall what had transpired inside that prayer room. The single punch that sent Director Matthews flying had knocked out several of the old man’s teeth. As Matthews rolled on the floor wailing, the nuns had rushed in, gasping in shock—though their looks toward He Ye carried far more sympathy than anger.
His eyes had been completely filled with raw horror.
One more centimeter, and his first kiss would have been stolen away.
A beast! An absolute animal! You sanctimonious piece of shit, how could you do something like that?! Countless curses roiled through He Ye’s mind. He wanted to vent; he wanted to kick that bastard until he stopped moving!
Yet the moment his mind replayed the image he had seen upon opening his eyes—
“Hurk… blegh…“
He braced against the wall and retched all over again. Not even a drunkard who had downed two full bottles of mojitos could have thrown up this violently.
“Are you all right, sir…?” Nicole asked worriedly.
“I’m… fine…”
He Ye had merely been traumatized; he hadn’t suffered any actual physical harm. With a completely normal sexual orientation, he could not comprehend this bizarre, abstract otherworld, and he felt profound pity for anyone who had suffered the same ordeal.
Even though he had punched the old bastard so hard he rolled across the floor, He Ye hadn’t faced any repercussions. The watching nuns and praying visitors had even seemed to quietly cheer in secret.
After all, if the scandal blew up, the only one losing face would be Saint Matthew Orphanage. The arriving nuns had merely urged He Ye to leave, and he had simply walked out cursing up a storm, leaving them to clean up the mess and settle the matter internally.
Before leaving, an enraged He Ye hadn’t been able to resist shouting:
“How can the director of an orphanage like men?!”
Hearing this, the nun sweeping leaves by the front gate had rested a hand against her cheek, remarking with wistful melancholy:
“It is still far better than a director who covets children, ladies, or widows.”
Thinking back to that statement, He Ye felt sick to his stomach once more.
“Blegh…“
He felt as though his stomach had been emptied of every scrap of food, leaving behind only bile and water that dribbled past his lips in a horribly sticky mess.
Pedestrians passing by pinched their noses, casting disgusted glances his way. No matter how much he dressed like a gentleman on the outside, at this moment, He Ye looked thoroughly wrecked.
Nicole grew deeply concerned, gently patting He Ye on the back. Having grown up in the slums, she was long accustomed to the sour, rancid stench of digested food, so it didn’t bother her in the slightest.
“Are you okay, sir?” Nicole kept patting his back.
“Do you… have a handkerchief?”
He Ye lifted his head with great difficulty, his face pale as a sheet.
“Yes, yes!”
Nicole was thrilled that he needed her help. She hurriedly fished out her handkerchief and instinctively handed it over.
Then, in the very next second.
As the cloth wiped across his lips, traces of invisible powder brushed against his skin. Before He Ye could even register that something was amiss, his limbs went entirely limp.
Huh?
Why do I feel like I just snorted something?
He Ye assumed he was simply too weak from throwing up so much. Just as he tried to find a place to sit down, his knees buckled, sending him straight to the ground.
…?
He Ye was thoroughly bewildered, yet his consciousness was already fading at terrifying speed. Distant, panicked shrieks echoed in his ears, but he could no longer make out the words. All he knew was that the cobblestones felt icy cold, and his eyelids felt impossibly heavy.
Goodnight, world.
Thud.
Meanwhile, Nicole, the true culprit, stood with her mouth wide open, covering her lips with both hands in pure horror. She looked down at the white handkerchief on the ground, then glanced at the unconscious Mr. Leon, completely panicked.
“I-I-I-I-I forgot! My handkerchief was dusted with drug powder…”
Trembling from head to toe, Nicole dropped to her knees, shaking He Ye by the chest as though wailing at a funeral:
“Hey, Mr. Leon, are you all right?! Wake up, I really didn’t drug you on purpose! You’ll catch a cold sleeping here! Hey, Grandpa Leon!”
“Wah~!~~”
