Chapter 682: Take a shower first, then eat, or first... ?

Jerusalem, south.

A mountain called "Zion" stands tall, with green pines and cypresses covering the ridge like ink, looming in the clouds and mist. The mountain streams are gurgling, clear to the bottom, and splashing tiny silver beads when hitting the pebbles. The cliffs are sharp, and the ochre-red rock layers are shining with metallic luster in the sun, forming a sharp contrast with the shadows in the deep valley. Occasionally, eagles and falcons fly across the clouds in the sky, adding a dynamic and vigorous touch to the quiet mountain scenery. As dusk falls, the entire mountain is coated with golden red, like a holy place burning with flames.

A slender figure stood on an open mountain platform, opened his golden eyes and looked into the distance.

The sight passes through a thin layer of chaotic fog and takes in a blue and calm sea.

Then there are the white sand beaches with distinct grains of sand, the lush green forests, the undulating continental shelves, and the towering human city-states.

These stacked elements form a common name - the Age of the Greek Gods.

"We're going to border each other so soon?"

As he muttered to himself, a trace of worry flashed across Loen's face.

As each age of gods grows and extends, the chaotic zone composed of irregular matter clumps and disordered magic waves is shrinking.

At this rate, it won’t be long before the barriers between the ages of gods disappear, and collisions between different pantheons and civilizations are inevitable.

By then, the smokescreen he left behind when he left might not be able to stop the spying of the various gods, and a war would be inevitable.

We must speed up the progress.

Just as Loen lowered his head in thought, a graceful girl came up the winding stone steps behind him.

She was wearing a loose white robe, carrying a wicker basket in her hands, and red agate beads woven between her slightly curly black hair, making tiny clinking sounds as she moved. Her wheat-colored skin glowed like honey, her thick eyelashes cast fan-shaped shadows on her eyelids, and her amber pupils were like gems under the scorching sun, reflecting both the wisdom of the wilderness and the gentle tenacity, just like a standard Canaanite beauty:

"It's time to eat, dear."

The beauty called softly, walked forward to open the basket, and placed the staple food, dishes, snacks and drinks on the empty stone table in the middle.

Whether intentionally or unintentionally, the beauty bent her waist deeply every time she took or put down the food.

The plump and juicy fruits hang down, almost bending the branches, making people want to taste them.

Faced with such temptation, Loen sighed helplessly:

"There are no outsiders here, Pandora..."

"The absence of [outsiders] doesn't mean there are no [outside gods]. After all, we are on someone else's territory. We should be more careful about everything. Don't you agree, my dear husband?"

Pandora blinked and laughed, continuing this little game that she never got tired of.

The amplitude of the body twisting became larger and larger, and the scenery flowing out from under the white robe became more and more.

Luo En raised his hand to his forehead, secretly regretting his previous arrangements.

As the apparent leader of the Ming Canaanites and not young anymore, it was impossible for him to be alone.

In addition, in order to avoid drawing too much attention from the Persian gods, he also needed to reduce the number of appearances and let a reliable messenger move around the city on his behalf to collect intelligence.

Therefore, Pandora naturally became his nominal wife.

Her name was "Zipporah", the daughter of the Canaanite priest Jethro. She met him in Midian, helped him escape from the Egyptian pursuers, and together with him completed the feat of leading the Canaanites back to their homeland.

When Pandora first arrived in Canaan, she was quite honest. She followed her husband's instructions every day, settled the Babylonians who had transformed into Canaanites, and carefully collected intelligence in the city. Then, she took the opportunity to deliver meals to go to Mount Zion to report to him.

But as time went on, the witch figured out his temper and his behavior gradually became unbridled.

Even when Pandora is having fun, she will intentionally or unintentionally use her identity as a wife to tease her husband.

"Everything is ready. Do you want to eat first, take a shower first, or eat... me first?"

The witch sat down on the empty space on the dining table, twisting her slender waist, licking her cherry lips with her pink tongue, and making ambiguous and teasing sounds from her mouth.

Loen raised his hand expressionlessly, and a cluster of blazing golden flames ignited in his palm.

Pandora's face changed, and she crawled off the table, and said seriously:

"Sir, I want to report it!"

"What's up?"

"That Cyrus not only allocated us land to rebuild the holy city of Jerusalem, but also allocated us funds to repair the temple, and also gave us tax exemption privileges. I always feel that he has bad intentions!"

"Of course. He is still waiting for the Persian Empire to wipe out the five great gods in Europe. Then we can become his pawns and help him conquer Egypt. Now, of course, we have to give him some sweet treats first."

Loen answered in a deep voice, and the flame in his hand went out.

Sure enough, as long as the business is mentioned, this boss will appropriately ignore some non-principle "small problems".

Pandora secretly breathed a sigh of relief and continued the topic:

"Then should we remind our people to be careful? After all, this is honey mixed with poison."

"No, we will eat whatever he gives us. And we must repay his kindness by publicizing his good deeds. We should write about his deeds in the copy of the Holy Testament, write poems and biographies about him, and let the Canaanites, Persians, and even Egyptians know that it was his majesty who took us in."

Lorne answered in a deep voice, looking righteous.

Historically, Cyrus the Great was highly regarded by the Jewish community because he not only released the imprisoned Jews, but also issued a royal decree to give them preferential treatment and help them rebuild the temple and Jerusalem.

Therefore, the early Jewish community regarded Cyrus as the savior and praised this Persian emperor. The King Cyrus recorded in the Book of Ezra in the Bible refers to Cyrus.

Moreover, these Jews were loyal allies of the imperial masters during the Persian Empire. They even supported a number of garrisons for Persia's later rule in Egypt.

Therefore, everything he did was just continuing the trajectory of history.

However, Pandora did not believe that her boss was so kind.

She thought for a moment, and then remembered the word "Egyptian" in the previous words, and suddenly realized:

"Are you planning to sow discord between Egypt and Persia, causing them to harbor resentment and thus laying the groundwork for the disintegration of the alliance?"

"Don't accuse a good man! We are only praising the kindness of his majesty."

Although Loen's tone was innocent, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up a little.

It's so cloudy! It's so cloudy!

Pandora secretly complained in her heart, while at the same time giving a thumbs up to her boss in her heart.

The Canaanites first used usury and casino operations to cheat the Egyptians, and then the Canaanite gods made trouble in the Egyptian era, bringing down several disasters, causing many Egyptian deaths and injuries.

As a result of this, the two sides developed a considerable grudge against each other.

However, Cyrus took great pains to accommodate the Canaanites and treated them very well. When the news reached Egypt, what did the Egyptians think?

The simplest result would be to incur the condemnation and hostility of all Egyptians.

On a more serious note, the Pharaohs who had some brains might have worried that the Persians would use the Canaanites against them, and whether this was a sign that the Persians wanted to attack them.

There is even a darkest thought - were the Canaanites and Canaanite gods causing trouble in Egypt at the behest of the Persian gods?

After all, it was the great Ming Zarwan who allowed the Canaanites and Canaanite gods to enter Egypt.

But the Egyptians may never find the answer to this question.

Because the real Canaanites had long since died out, and the Canaanite gods who were supposed to be in Egypt had also disappeared.

Without circumstantial evidence, all clues and doubts were focused on the Persians.

Then, whether they admit it or not, the blame will most likely fall on them.

Once the seeds of doubt are planted, it may not be easy for the relationship between the two parties to return to what it was before.

Pandora turned her head and stared at her boss:

"So, you planned in advance to make the Canaanite gods bring disaster to Egypt, and then make them disappear when they were about to enter the Persian Empire?"

"Okay, let's eat first."

Lorne knocked on the table and ended the topic with a smile.

But the answer is self-evident.

As if she had realized again the evil-hearted nature of her boss, Pandora ate the meal with a tasteless taste. She was trembling with fear, fearing that he would retaliate for her recent offense.

After the meal, without waiting for Loen to speak, this witch, who usually loved leisure, took the initiative to clean up the dishes, went into a cave behind the platform, and made the bed for her boss.

In view of the idea that the more you do, the more mistakes you make, after Loen secured land for the Babylonians to settle down, he no longer lived together with these former people, in order to avoid having their true memories of the past brought back to them if they spent too much time together.

Therefore, in the name of understanding the way of God, he climbed Mount Zion alone and lived a secluded life.

This cave is his current residence.

Normally, only Pandora would take care of things for him by taking the opportunity to deliver meals and pass on information.

"My lord, the bed is made. You may come in and rest."

After cleaning up the house, Pandora called out softly, without any of her previous coquettishness and indulgence, as if she were really a virtuous and dignified wife.

However, Lorne outside the cave shook his head:

"No need."

"?"

"The person I'm waiting for is here."

Lorne walked to the edge of the platform and gazed at the city of Jerusalem to the north of the mountain.

~~

The midday sun scorched the gates of Jerusalem, and the customs house inlaid with glazed tiles reflected the dazzling light.

Two teams of Persian soldiers stood lazily on both sides of the city gate, looking jokingly at the merchants waiting to enter the city at the gate, as if they were looking at a group of fat sheep about to be put into the pot.

Abdul, the leader of the caravan, clutched the faded customs document, and the edges of the sheepskin scroll were oozing dark brown sweat stains. Behind him were forty camels loaded with precious copperware and spices, and each package of goods was stamped with the cinnabar seal of the tax collectors along the way - those twisted Persian characters crawled all over the tarpaulin like vampire bats.

He pinched the already shriveled purse at his waist and prayed quietly:

"It's the last level. May Mithra bless you."

"The gods of Persia will not protect us."

A quiet voice came from behind.

The speaker was a Central Asian youth wearing a white robe, of medium build, with a rosy complexion, a broad and bright forehead, thick and connected eyebrows, dark and bright eyes, long eyelashes, a high nose bridge, a thick but neatly trimmed beard, and long black, slightly curly hair that fell to his ears.

With his steady and powerful steps, graceful and decent manners, and every word and action, people can't help but be convinced.

"Emin, shut up!"

Abdul glared at his grandson and reminded him with a dark face,

"You dare to criticize even God, you want to die!"

"I am only speaking the truth. If the Persian God really had mercy on us, the slaves of the empire, he would have descended in his true form long ago and burned these marrow-sucking scums at the city gate into ashes."

The young man replied calmly, his expression calm as usual.

As an empire founded on slavery, it was naturally impossible for Persia to give preferential treatment to all ethnic groups within its territory.

Some can become masters, while others are only fit to be beasts.

Unfortunately, his ethnic group was at the bottom of the Persian Empire and was only fit to be exploited.

Therefore, he lacked reverence for the so-called Persian gods.

Of course, he did not believe much in the natural gods of his own nation.

Because they never show mercy to the world.

"What are you whispering about? Come over here and check it out!"

A fat-faced tax collector walked out from the shade, his uniform creaking under the weight of the gold chain around his waist.

"Okay, sir, we'll be right there." Abdul responded quickly with a nod and bow, and called the camel caravan forward.

The tax collector looked around the camel caravan and stepped forward to pat one of the packages.

"The new decree of the empire." He deliberately read it in ancient Persian to ensure that these foreigners could not understand, "Damascus copper will be subject to a 30% tariff increase."

Twelve Persian guards armed with spears immediately surrounded the camels, with the points of their spears pointed at the copper pots wrapped in palm leaves.

"We have paid the transit tax in Babylon, sir." The young man stepped forward and answered in the same fluent Old Persian.

Before he finished speaking, the tax collector's face darkened and he put the copper ruler in his hand against the young man's throat:

"Idiot! This is the tax on local Persian products. When we arrive in the new place, we will charge an additional two silver coins for each package. This is the new rule!"

"There is no such rule in the newly promulgated Tax Law of Nations by His Majesty Cyrus."

The young man remained calm in the face of danger and wanted to fight with all his strength.

The tax collector's face turned dark blue, and he grabbed the young man by the collar:

“You want to fight taxes?”

A fishy wind blew over, and the Midi merchant in the wooden cage raised his festering eyelids and babbled.

Half of his tongue had been cut out because he couldn't pay the taxes.

The young man pursed his lips and said in a deep voice:

"We just want your tolerance, sir. If you charge us this way, we will not only not make any profit from this business trip, but we will also have to pay for it."

"You are as lowly as a pig or a dog, and you still want to bargain with me?"

The tax collector sneered, raised the copper ruler, and hit the young man's head viciously.

"May the true god Ahura bless you!" Abdul shouted suddenly and took out a bulging linen bag from his inner robe.

"The child is ignorant, please don't take it seriously, sir." The old man said, extending his arm forward.

The linen bag then disappeared into the tax collector's wide sleeves.

The tax collector narrowed his eyes at the metallic clang, the deep reverberation of Lydian gold coins.

The copper ruler paused and pointed to the end of the team: "According to the latest decree of His Majesty Darius, the two packages of goods without the Armenian tax stamp..."

"Confiscate it! It should be confiscated! Let you and all the adults check it carefully!" The old man hurriedly replied, bending over.

Even without waiting for the guards to take action, he asked the followers in the team to unload the packages and take them to the shady place where the tax collectors and guards were resting.

Seeing the old man was so tactful, the tax collector had no more excuses to make trouble and waved his hand impatiently:

"Go away!"

The old man felt as if he had been pardoned, and hurriedly led the caravan into the city.

Under the setting sun, the young man looked back at the wooden cage at the city gate.

After a whole day's exertion, he was already unconscious and would probably not survive the night.

In the shadow of the city gate, a blind old man leaning on a cane chuckled helplessly:

"What belongs to the king belongs to the king, and what belongs to the tax collector belongs to the tax collector. There is nothing we can do about it. This is the rule of the empire."

"What about the people of the Empire?"

“Everything has a price.”

"?"

"You are the price."

The young man was silent for a long time, then said in a deep voice:

"The world shouldn't be like this."

"Maybe. You can only find the answer by yourself."

The old man's hollow eye sockets turned to the south, where the setting sun was like blood, reflecting the distant Mount Zion.

The young man's body trembled, as if he felt some kind of guidance from the unknown.

It seemed that the answer he wanted was right there.

~~

Late at night, on Mount Zion.

The young man who had been harassed when entering the city during the day followed the cry in his heart and climbed to a cave.

Under the bright moonlight, an old man in a white robe was standing outside the cave with a cane, as if he had been waiting for a long time.

The young man was filled with blessing and bowed respectfully:

"Greetings to you, old sir. I hope you can answer my questions. You can call me Emin (the honest and reliable one, the title of a certain prophet)."

(End of this chapter)