Chapter 144 Extra: Forty Years Later
◎ Saint Sistine I’s 70th Birthday (Part 2)◎
They no longer talked about those depressing topics, and Sangxia seemed to accept his answer. They sat together and drank half a pot of mead. The skilled craftsmen made the golden pot and golden cup presented to the Pope's Palace, which were exquisite. The small golden cup was only the size of a thumb, and half a pot of wine was only enough for the two of them to take turns drinking three rounds.
The curtain covering this secret stand was lifted, and a young man in a platinum robe walked in. The blond-haired and blue-eyed young man had a decent appearance, with a perpetual smile on his lips, and he naturally had a gentle and amiable temperament.
He walked to the table, picked up the golden pot and shook it, then sighed helplessly: "Teacher, you let Lusa steal wine for you again. Master Leshert has already blamed the kitchen for this several times."
The Pope opened his eyes wide, placed his hands on his knees obediently, and said innocently: "But I can't give Sangxia milk?"
Sang Xia immediately retorted: "I never rejected this option! Garcia, you should take good care of him. Some people just like to talk nonsense when they get old."
In the whole of Syracuse, the only person who could make fun of the Pope so unscrupulously was the Queen. Garcia could of course hear that it was a joke, but he still gently defended his teacher: "It was my fault for not reminding the kitchen to prepare the right drinks in advance. I will remember it next time."
After these words came out, even Sang Xia was silent for a moment. After a while, she asked Raphael: "Where did you find such a... cute child?"
She stretched out her hands and gestured twice, unable to express her inner feelings, and could only show her envy with her eyes.
Garcia smiled and said, "Thank you for the compliment, but I am who I am today entirely because of my teacher's teachings."
Rafael did not say anything, there was a hint of disapproval in his eyes, but Garcia looked at him - such eye contact had occurred countless times in the past ten years. The young student always listened obediently to the teacher's teachings, but on this point, he never gave in.
Garcia is an orphan adopted by Raphael from the lower town. Becoming a student of the Pope seems glorious, but the hardships behind it are beyond the imagination of ordinary people. He will face more doubts, tests, temptations, and scrutiny. Raphael's brilliance is so dazzling that no one can accept that a poor orphan will inherit everything from him.
And Garcia is still here, which proves how outstanding his talent and ability are.
"You gave me a name, and I offer you my loyalty. This is only natural," Garcia said seriously.
Rafael gave him his original surname, and Garcia cherished this name like a hungry poor man holding his only bread, even though Rafael had emphasized countless times that he did not want him to bind himself with such "favor".
Raphael changed the subject. His student was good in every way except that he was a little too stubborn at times. "Is the dinner ready?"
Garcia bent down and squatted beside Rafael's chair, looking up at his teacher. This action of completely handing over all initiative made him like a docile long-haired dog close to its owner. Even without seeing his face, one could picture a pair of moist green eyes full of trust in his mind.
"Yes, teacher, everything is ready."
Raphael reached out and touched his hair. The young man's hair was fluffy and soft, flowing out from between his fingers like gold. "This is the first time you have planned such an event on your own... Don't be afraid. It doesn't matter if you make mistakes."
Garcia looked at him and said stubbornly: "No, I won't make a mistake... I will give you a perfect birthday celebration."
Rafael smiled helplessly and patted Garcia on the head gently: "Okay, then I'll look forward to it."
Garcia forced the two old men to take a short rest before the banquet. Rafael walked through the long corridor under the shade of trees, where lush vines climbed and heavy clusters of wisteria flowers hung down. Mottled spots of light swayed in the wind. Rafael stood under the shelf and squinted for a while. In his blurred vision, there were only bright green and misty purple intertwined.
"Rafa?"
There weren't many people who could address the Pope in this way. Raphael didn't look back, and said with a complaining tone: "I don't think I'm so stupid that I need someone to watch me all the time..."
"Yes, of course." The man walked up to Raphael and stood beside him. Raphael naturally extended his hand for him to support him - this was a habit accumulated over countless years. "It is I who want to see you. Please, great Saint Sistine I, fulfill this inappropriate request of a mortal like me."
Raphael glared at him for two seconds, and they both laughed at the same time.
"Okay, I forgive you."
The Pope's speech, which is often used in solemn prayer occasions, was delivered in such a serious manner that it had a touch of tenderness and intimacy.
As Raphael laughed, his eyes were fixed on the newcomer. Facing the sunlight, he needed to squint to see the face clearly. Although he had seen this man slowly age from being extremely handsome to his current appearance, it was as if he was seeing him for the first time. Comparing him with the high-spirited knight commander in his memory, Raphael felt a sense of disbelief about the passage of time.
Leshet gently let him look at him. The handsome knight commander who had charmed so many noble ladies in the past was of course now fairly endowed with white hair and wrinkles, but he still had the shadow of a knight, with a straight back and tall figure. The body hidden under the loose clothes was not just dry flesh and skin. At least his body could still support the uniform of the Knights Templar - although he had not worn that suit for many years.
Raphael muttered, "You look a little too old. Will there be ladies giving you flowers when you're riding a horse?"
Leshert began to laugh. He didn't care what Raphael meant by this. He just habitually agreed with tolerance: "The ladies' eyes are all on the young handsome boy. I have been too old to ride a horse for a long time. Moreover, I am older than you. When the Lord was still caring for you and delaying your withering time, I already had white hair and wrinkles."
"Then they really don't have the good fortune to see you. Everyone knows that Lord Lesherte on horseback is the signature scenery of Florence. Many people are willing to spend half a silver coin just to see you."
There was genuine regret in Raphael's tone.
Leshert had long been accustomed to his teasing, and did not react much. He supported Raphael and walked slowly forward. Although he was older than Raphael, Raphael had suffered too much when he was young, and his early experiences had hollowed out his body. No matter how he tried to make up for it later, those precious medicinal materials still continuously flowed out of his torn body. In fact, the fact that Raphael could live safely to the age of seventy was already a great miracle for the doctors.
They walked slowly and leisurely from the flower corridor to the inner courtyard. At the end of the semi-enclosed corridor was Raphael's bedroom. Lesherte realized belatedly that something seemed to be wrong just now -
He stopped and his expression became serious: "Wait a minute - you said half a silver coin -"
The Knight Commander gradually showed an expression of disbelief: "I was wondering why you suddenly arranged for me to patrol from the Pope's Palace to the Central Street in those years, and always in the afternoon - you didn't really take money, did you?!"
Raphael uttered an "ah", a trace of annoyance flashed across his face, and he tried to explain: "Actually, I didn't collect a lot..."
"So it was really taken?!" Leshert seemed to be struck by a bolt from the blue. "So those girls who tried to put money in my boots..."
"Huh? Stuffing money in your boots?" Raphael heard something he had never heard before. "How much?"
No, wait, is that the point? Isn’t the point that the Pope secretly lured the leader of the Knights Templar away to be used as a tourist attraction? !
Raphael felt guilty for a while, but soon he became confident again: "But during that period, Florence's finances encountered some difficulties. Besides, all the money earned was used to renovate various facilities for your Knights. I didn't take a single silver coin!"
Leshert looked at him with a mixture of laughter and tears. After hesitating for a long while, he finally had to calm down. What else could he do? He could only retreat and compromise in front of Raphael.
"You can tell me first." He said seriously.
Raphael hummed like a little kid, "And then it was rejected?"
"No," the Knight Commander's eyes were still as bright and green as when he was young, "as long as you ask me for it."
He said: "A knight never refuses his lord."
Raphael stared at him for a while, then patted Leshert on the shoulder and said, "Okay, Knight, can I have a glass of mead with whiskey tonight?"
The Knight Commander who had just made a solid promise immediately changed his expression and refused without question: "No, Your Majesty, you will have a headache tonight."
Raphael said "Oh" regretfully, opened the door, and stopped Lesherte outside: "Then the great Saint Sistine I will rest, and the knights who fought bravely and won against him please step down."
Lesherte sighed, and once again indulged his Pope's little temper: "Yes, Your Majesty."
The celebration of the 70th anniversary of the birth of St. Sistine I will last for nearly a month. The entire Papal States is centered in Florence, and all churches will organize banquets and various activities of varying sizes. Within two hours after nightfall every day, Florence will continuously set off fireworks in various areas, mixed with many fireworks organized and purchased spontaneously by the public. The whole city is shrouded in a bubble of intoxicating and tipsy happiness.
Citizens wearing lilies and irises spontaneously formed teams and marched through the streets, shouting the title of Saint Sistine I. Wherever the team passed, every household opened their doors and offered them water and bread.
They loved the Pope almost devoutly, which was unprecedented in the history of Florence and even the Papal States.
The banquet at the Sistine Palace began before sunset. Due to health reasons, the Pope only showed up once, and his students acted as his spokespersons at other times. When the whole palace was immersed in the lively splendor, a little girl with brown curly hair, holding a jar, sneaked from the edge of the corridor into the quiet lounge on the second floor.
"Ah, thank you my dear little Lucresa, you are as caring as your mother." The Pope, who had just left the banquet, sat on a lounge chair by the window and watched with a smile as the little girl put the jar on the table. In the transparent glass jar, the mead flowing and shaking like molten gold reflected a beautiful halo.
"This is the last time, Your Majesty. If I help you steal wine again, my father will pull my ears." Little Lucresa has the same name as her mother. The female historian who presided over the compilation of "Chronicles of Florence" traveled around the world all year round to collect historical materials. She had a love affair and adopted several orphans on the way. Her husband firmly supported his wife's career and took on all the work of educating the children from thirty years ago until now.
This made little Lucresa always more afraid of her adoptive father than her adoptive mother. Even though she was still young, she knew that both her parents and other people around her were extremely worried about His Majesty's physical condition. If her father found out that she was stealing wine for His Majesty, he would definitely make her stand at the door and sing while holding the thickest book on her mother's bookshelf!
"Hush, then let's not tell anyone, and Joel won't know. If he wants to punish you, you can come to me or go to your Aunt Astasiania."
Astasia had a hot temper, was extremely tolerant of women, and loved children the most. If Joel dared to say in front of her that he wanted to "punish" her daughter, the woman who had become the dean of the Florence Medical School would really pick up a scalpel and fight him to the death.
The Pope touched the little girl's head and received a bright smile from her.
But... of course, Raphael thought silently in his heart, if Joel gets into trouble, he will be the next to get into trouble. Astasia will not forgive him for "encouraging" the child just because he is the Pope.
The little girl picked up the glass jar attentively, unscrewed the lid, and poured the fragrant mead into the golden pot. Her hands were not so steady, and a lot of mead spilled out. Raphael just smiled and watched without saying anything. When the little girl finished her work, Raphael made a seat for her and asked her to sit next to him: "What story do you want to hear today?"
Lucreza sat obediently beside Raphael and counted on her fingers: "I have heard the story of the pirates and the story of the banker..."
She thought for a while, her eyes naturally falling out the window. The night sky was filled with large patches of brilliant fireworks, almost lighting up the entire city. This allowed her to easily see the gray tower standing next to the Pope's Palace. Among all the beautiful colors, it was like a dim candle.
"What's that tower?"
The little girl asked.
Raphael was stunned for a moment. He followed the little girl's gaze and was silent for a long time. The colorful fireworks shone on his pupils. It seemed that brilliant flowers were blooming on his lilac irises, and a pale candle was always standing stubbornly among the flowers.
"That is..."
Raphael paused.
"That's the holy tower," he said softly.
"Who lives in it? Is it a witch? Will she brew potions in there? Will she capture the princess?" The little girl quickly began to connect it to the fairy tales she had heard about "tower".
Raphael touched the little girl's soft brown curly hair, smiled, and lowered his voice: "Dear, this is a secret
, I just tell you. ”
Lucreza immediately covered her mouth with her little hands and swore vaguely: "I won't tell anyone!"
The Pope smiled and said, "There lives a silly but very brave nightingale in there."
Lucreza looked at him in confusion. The little girl had heard the singing of the nightingale. Her adoptive father had told her the story of the nightingale. It was a sad story. The little nightingale gave its life for love and poured its boiling blood on the rose, giving birth to the flower that was reluctant to bloom in winter. Lucreza was silent for a while and said softly, "I don't like this story."
"Really? That's terrible. I don't like it either." The Pope seemed to smile, but it was very brief, like an illusion.
Lucresa did not stay here for long. According to the Pope's schedule, he should have fallen asleep before people started the party.
At this moment, the whole world focused its attention on Florence and on this old man whose life was brilliant. The history he created would undoubtedly become the brightest gem in the years. While everyone was rejoicing over his birth, he lay in the middle of the soft bed and closed his eyes.
In his dreams, there will be the sound of sea waves and gentle songs, and perhaps also the sun-filled tree-lined roads. He will return to his youth, with his mentor patiently waiting for him ahead. All the pain and fatigue will be wiped out. On this day, he deserves all the happiness in the world.
The author has something to say:
There is one more extra chapter. The next book will be "Danqing Ling". Everyone is welcome to add it to the column collection. "Danqing Ling" will not be very long, and it will be completed in about 200,000 words. The next book is hesitating between "The Supporting Role Can't Figure It Out" with a quick-travel theme, "The Immortal World God-Slaying KPI List" with a fantasy anti-Mary Sue theme, and "How to Create a Monster Company" which is probably a modern pseudo-story. I only have a general idea for the latter two books at the moment, and the copywriting hasn't been written yet. Just take a look at the names first. Which one do you think suits you better?
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