The tomb of the saint (6)
Chapter Summary: This chapter returns to the perspectives of Theodosius and Ye Wanzhou.
"The name is in honor of Gratian, in honor of their love. 'Theodosius' is the name of an emperor."
Caesar Garnimetz's diary ends here.
The car stopped in front of the palace. Theodosius got out first, and Ye Wanzhou closed her diary, stuffed it back into her bag, and quickly followed. There was no movement from the front door for a long time, so Theodosius knocked on the window. "Your Majesty, are you alright?"
The situation was dire. The emperor's eyes were half-closed, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his hands were so cold they could serve as artificial ice packs. Theodosius draped one of the emperor's arms over his shoulder and supported his back with his other hand, helping him out of the carriage. The emperor's legs buckled and hit the bottom of the carriage door. Ye Wanzhou bent down to check; thankfully, there were no injuries. No bruises or swelling. Palace servants rushed over, carrying a wheelchair, stretcher, and first-aid kit, with others holding a ventilator. "Who are you?"
Theodosius was pondering how to answer when Caligula approached, a half-smile on his face that made Theodosius extremely uncomfortable. The head of the intelligence agency ordered his attendants to take the emperor away. The emperor seemed to wake up midway, but Caligula's body blocked the two boys' view of him. "His Majesty invites you to the palace. If you're not in a hurry, I'll take you to your lodgings."
“We are in a hurry,” Theodosius said coldly. “His Majesty seems to be unwell, so we will not disturb you any longer.” He then stepped back.
“Wait a minute.” Caligula suddenly grasped Theodosius’s wrist. “His Majesty has returned safely to the palace. I won’t do anything to you, I promise.” He narrowed his eyes. “General Ganymede’s child.”
"I don't understand what you're saying," Theodosius scoffed.
The intelligence chief laughed heartily. "The person involved, you yourself, truly know nothing. A very honest answer."
Theodosius frowned. But unexpectedly, Ye Wanzhou didn't look at him with her bright, gentle eyes and softly say, "Let's ignore these lunatics from the Empire," but instead turned her face away. Theodosius's heart sank.
"What do you want to ask me?" he asked Ye Wanzhou.
Ye Wanzhou asked Caligula, "Will you tell me the truth?"
"What's the point of the truth anyway?" he scoffed.
"Do you feel you already know enough, so you no longer need to know the truth?"
“That’s part of the reason,” Caligula said. “What are you trying to say? I don’t think a child knows more than I do.”
"Lord Caligula, who are Theodosius's parents?"
“I have no obligation to answer you,” Caligula said coldly. It wasn't until Ye Wanzhou waved the diary in her hand that the intelligence chief saw the signature on the cover: it was “Caesar Ganymede.” He shut up, frowning as he looked at the boy.
"You probably don't know much about this, and you're particularly puzzled, why there's so little information about your late Prince Caesar Ganimed, that it's been too easy to erase his traces from the old alliances or the empire after his death. Colonel Ganimed didn't like going online, nor did he like using electronic devices to record his things. He preferred to write by hand."
Ye Wanzhou said, "I can give you this diary. I already know its contents. Don't worry, I will never tell anyone. I only read it to satisfy my personal obsession with the truth. But before that, I hope you can answer one question for me, not the previous one. I have already guessed who Xiaoxi's parents are, and perhaps my answer is more accurate than yours, the excellent director of the intelligence bureau."
Colonel Ganymede's diary ends there, stating that he ordered the killing of a boy with icy blue eyes. But it seems that after the Imperial soldiers, under his command, charged the boy, they appealed to you for help. What exactly happened that day?
“A child with too much curiosity will never be liked by everyone.” Caligula smiled, his eyes fixed on the diary.
“You filthy adults,” Ye Wanzhou said, “aren’t you particularly eager to arrest me and steal my diary? You think there’s no need to negotiate with me, and that’s true, you have the absolute advantage.”
"However, I must remind you, Your Excellency Caligula, His Majesty Emperor Gratian has only fainted, not died. He promised to show us around the palace."
"If I describe what happened, will you give me the diary?"
"Do you really want this diary? Why?"
"Now it's my turn to question you."
"Are you also curious, confused, and have a vague idea about whose blood Theodosius had?"
Ye Wanzhou smiled slightly, "Then you should be even less angry. There is someone in front of you who, by bloodline, you should kneel and submit to."
A commotion came from behind the woods. More and more men had surrounded the area while the director and Ye Wanzhou were talking. Their numbers were unknown, but they were more than enough to deal with two university students. Caligula weighed the situation. He clearly had the upper hand, but how would he explain this to His Majesty afterward? His Majesty had risked his life to protect Theodosius last time; he was probably serious about these two children. But why? He could understand Theodosius, after all, he was the child of the man His Majesty loved most in his life, even if it was from his affair with His Majesty's woman, Yang Luo. But Ye Wanzhou? Who was this child?
“I remember that your medical records show that you have been to the hospital on average once every six months, sometimes even less than a week apart,” Caligula said, looking at Ye Wanzhou. “His Majesty even sent his own private doctor to treat you, which is why you were unlucky enough to be bedridden a few months ago.”
"Who are you?"
Who are you? Who is it that Emperor Gratian would take you so seriously?
"Tell me first, what happened on the day Caesar Garnimed died?"
“He was shot dead by that child. In the chaos. According to the soldiers’ recollections afterward, Ganymede wanted the child dead, despite countless pieces of evidence suggesting the child was his son. Strange, I can only say, His Highness was too eager to cover up the evidence of his affair with the Queen. But…” Caligula paused, his brow furrowing even more deeply.
“But clearly, Caesar Ganymede did not show any signs of having an affair with the Empress during his time in the Empire.”
“You certainly know a lot, child, far too much,” Caligula continued with a smile that resembled that of a pure black old cat. “If you’re not worried that your curiosity will kill you.”
He continued, “I got there with a large group of Imperial soldiers who came to our aid. But the man who gave the signal was dead; to be precise, there was no one left in our sight. Only blood, blood mixed with rain. The rain never stopped, from yesterday evening until the afternoon of the day after we arrived. The rain kept washing over the high foundation where the little boy had stood. I'm sorry, I don't know if that pile of things was the villa's 'foundation.' The villa collapsed completely. The soldiers even used rocket launchers, probably in self-defense? Out of fear? I don't know. I only know that the firing direction was incredibly foolish; the guns eventually went out of control, cratering the ground.” "Waaaah." I laughed inwardly, cursing them, those former soldiers reduced to mere limbs and chunks of flesh: You dare call yourselves His Majesty's army, warriors of the Galactic Empire? Your mothers don't know you, your emperor doesn't know you! I walked over, laughing. The boy was leaning against a woman's skeleton, her black hair tangled like seaweed, floating on the gushing, flowing blood. The boy held the woman's body, and he looked up at us, just once… Do you know what it feels like to face the most primal emotion in the human heart? Yes, the most primal, you're naked and exposed before it, that emotion is called 'fear.'"
“I couldn’t move, everyone, all the fully armed Imperial soldiers couldn’t move. We watched as the boy walked down the steps, bent down, picked up a gun, and I was the first to react, shouting ‘Fire! Fire!’—that was a wrong order, because His Majesty’s instructions were to take the boy back to the palace. I thought His Majesty would love him like his own child, but at that moment I didn’t think that much. I, we, succumbed to the immense fear, like a hand reaching out from the dark sky above and dragging you off the ground. I just wanted to kill that child with blood on his face and hands, and the other soldiers too.”
“This child’s name is ‘Theodosius,’ isn’t it?” Ye Wanzhou said softly. “It was given to him by his biological father, Caesar Ganymede, who died young and whose chest he had pierced with his own hands; he was named when he was still a tiny baby in an incubation chamber. The name was given in memory of Gratian, in memory of their love. Theodosius, that is the name of an emperor.”
Lightning ripped through the dark sky. Above the night, dark clouds obscured the bright moon; rain was imminent.
＊
"A diary? You actually have Caesar's diary?" the Emperor exclaimed in astonishment. "Is it true?"
"After you've read it, you should be more certain than I am of the authenticity of this diary." Ye Wanzhou handed the notebook to the emperor.
Gratian gripped the spine of the book and placed it on his shoulder. He didn't open it, but instead fell into deep thought. Perhaps memories of the past had captured him. Ye Wanzhou glanced back at Caligula. "Your Majesty, didn't Xiao Xi come to see you today? He said he'd come as soon as you were feeling better."
Caligula said, "My child, honesty and trustworthiness are virtues in life."
"I handed the diary directly to His Majesty the Emperor for his perusal. What's wrong with that? How can you be such a subject?"
Caligula shut up. The Emperor put the diary aside, still not looking at it. He stroked Ye Wanzhou's head, the boy's soft hair gently brushing against his fingers. "Wanzhou, you are a particularly cruel child at times. To others, and to yourself."
Ye Wanzhou asked, puzzled. "What do you mean, Your Majesty?"
Gratian said gently, “He didn’t want to hear those things. But you forced Caligula to say them, right in front of him, with you right next to him. He heard everything.”
Has he spoken to you these past few days?
Ye Wanzhou was embarrassed. "No... him. Xiao Xi stopped talking to me the night before last. I thought he caught a cold from being caught in the rain that day. No wonder he kept saying he wasn't feeling well and told me not to get close to him. So that's why..."
The emperor looked at him intently.
"I'm just pointing out facts that already exist."
"Sometimes, what matters is not the facts or the events themselves, but the way they are interpreted, modified, or covered up."
Ye Wanzhou gave a soft "humph".
The emperor laughed and said, "What? You think this is a lack of freedom, or 'the usual practice of autocratic empires'?"
"I do not deny that you are right, but I believe my own actions are equally justified. People always fight for their own ideals and their own sense of justice. Every ideal and justice, at a deep level, is correct and pitiful. If you imagine each of us as a vessel for some kind of ideal, you will understand. Ideals reside in our bodies like parasites or viruses. They hope to infect more people and spread more widely, but they do not consider whether we, as the hosts, can bear it or pay the price for them. Ideals begin to manipulate our words, actions, and thoughts from the moment they take root in us. They will not stop until they have drained our entire bodies. Until your spirit is destroyed and your body is riddled with diseases."
"What is the point of such a bloody battle manipulated by various ideologies? What do they have besides aesthetic value? Has anyone considered the suffering of those harmed by this ideological clash? Is the idea of freedom and the struggle for freedom truly beneficial to human survival? Is sacrificing oneself for an idea noble? Are you talking about 'nobility' with a dead person? Audiences appreciate outstanding tragedies like diners savor exquisite dishes, which they call 'delicious.' But tragedy is, after all, the privilege of a small group of wealthy people. They have shiny nails, rosy cheeks, and plenty of oil and fat; after their satisfied laziness, they need a little stimulation that is different from their daily lives."
"I have stopped the 'truth' from spreading unchecked in its most primal form. I have quelled the conflict and brought order and peace to the universe."
“Your Majesty, you have said so much,” Ye Wanzhou broke free from the emperor’s grasp and looked up at Gratian, who sat on the throne. “You said that ideas kill people, but what about someone who cannot live without ideas? You said you have brought peace to the universe, but what about someone who hates order and peace and craves chaos and war? How are we supposed to live?”
Grati gently soothed the tears streaming down Ye Wanzhou's face. "You just don't like this world, do you? Caesar's child."
——tbc——
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