Viscount Kennard leaned back and said regretfully, "What a pity. I heard she sold all her paintings today. If she keeps making a scene for a few more days, she might sell all her jewelry..."
"Wait a minute!" The count looked up in surprise and exclaimed, "What did you just say?!"
Kennard glanced at his father, puzzled, and slowly said, "The Queen sold all her paintings, saying she wanted to support the King..."
The count stood up from his seat, walked around the room with his hands behind his back, looking uneasy and nervous.
His son stared, mouth agape, at his father's unusual behavior, and asked in confusion, "Um, what's wrong with the Queen selling paintings? Dad, are you planning to buy them all?"
"Bullshit! You idiot!" The count shook his head, looking utterly disappointed. He paced back and forth a few times, muttering to himself, "I think I underestimated that woman..."
He thought for a moment, then turned to Viscount Kennard and said, "Listen, if the rumors continue, our plans need to be changed!"
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San Sidlow Monastery, High Priests' Council.
"Gentlemen, I am truly grateful that you have taken the time out of your busy schedules to meet with me."
Todd, having removed his priest's robes and put on his monk's robes again, bowed to the five highly respected monk masters before him.
The eldest monk in the center smiled and returned the greeting: "Brother Todd, we are very pleased to see you again. May we ask what brings you to the monastery?"
Todd glanced at the five relatively amiable old monks in front of him and understood that their politeness stemmed from two reasons: firstly, he had studied at the monastery, and secondly, he had left them the method of refining silver before he left.
With this in mind, Todd did not rush to make his request, but instead asked a question: "Excuse me, have all of you masters ever worked as scribes?"
Being a scribe was an extremely tedious yet crucial job in a monastery. These people spent their days sitting in dimly lit rooms, with only a wooden table, scriptures, white paper, and ink in front of them. They had to carefully, stroke by stroke, copy the contents of a scripture or manuscript onto the white paper and compile it into a book.
This job not only requires enduring sweltering heat and freezing cold, but also demands constant concentration. A single mistake could mean half a day's work is wasted. Besides, there are the risks of rats, snakes, insects, ink, and nearsightedness…
Moreover, this is a job that almost every monk has done.
Seeing the five old monks nod in unison with puzzled expressions, Todd asked his second question: "Gentlemen, how long does it typically take to copy a complete 'Bible'?"
The eldest monk stroked his beard, thought for a moment, and said, "If it's a skilled scribe who makes no mistakes during the copying process, it would take at least a year."
Todd pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, on which 24 lines of scripture were neatly printed, and handed it to the monks: “Masters, this is the first page of the Bible. Please judge it.”
The old monk took the paper, examined it repeatedly, and exclaimed in sincere admiration: "The characters are upright, the lines are even, and the cursive script is fluent. What's most remarkable is that the same letters are written exactly the same! To write something like this would take at least three hours. In my opinion, this scribe is a senior and meticulous expert."
The monks passed the paper around and praised it, agreeing with the old monk's judgment.
"What if I told you that it only takes a week to transcribe such a perfect 'Bible'?"
Todd's words stunned everyone in their seats, leaving them speechless.
A moment later, some of the cultivators shook their heads in doubt, while others even burst into laughter.
Todd leaned forward, a smile on his face: "Masters, why don't we collaborate?"
The monks stopped talking and laughing, waiting for the other party to continue.
“I hope to recruit fifty monks from the monastery to share the Father’s truth with the people of Muxi Town; in addition, I hope to borrow 50 books from the monastery’s library every week.” Todd held up one finger to the monks: “In return, I will donate a beautifully copied Bible to the monastery every week.”
Todd's tone was sincere and devout: "Gentlemen, please think about what a wonderful and fair collaboration this will be!"
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