Chapter 82 [City of Redemption Extra] "I repent..." ...
"I repent..."
Wen Yin lowered her eyelashes, her gaze falling on her knuckles which had turned slightly white from clenching her fists.
"I once made a promise to someone to be together forever, but at a crossroads in fate, I let go."
"I thought that was the only path to redemption, that my disappearance would bring him eternal peace."
"I left him alone without ever asking him...whether he was willing to accept this arrangement."
Wen Yin raised her head, and even though there was a grid between them, her sight still fell on the blurry outline.
There was a hint of almost broken prayer in the voice:
"Father...tell me, does betrayal born out of love...sear more deeply into the soul?"
"Will he... forgive that self-righteous... abandoner?"
Behind the grid, the vague outline remained motionless.
After a long time, the other party's voice sounded again, with the unique soothing rhythm of the priest, and there was no sound unusual.
"What you describe is a common struggle in human nature: choices made in the name of love often carry the heaviest shackles."
He spoke slowly, as if elaborating on a classic doctrinal case:
"You think your leaving is a sacrifice, a dedication."
"But have you ever considered that true 'salvation' might not be a one-sided giving or taking, but a journey together?"
"You made the choice for him. This in itself might be another form of 'imprisonment.'"
"As for whether he will forgive you..."
There was an extremely subtle pause in the priest's voice, so brief that it almost seemed like an illusion.
“Time has the power to wash away everything, including memories and pain.”
"Perhaps he has already sealed the past and started a new life."
"Persistently seeking 'forgiveness' that may no longer be important sometimes only traps yourself."
"Surrender your guilt to faith, ask for forgiveness, and learn to forgive yourself. Looking forward is the best way to repent for the past."
These words, full of religious wisdom and consolation, are completely in line with the identity of a bystander priest.
But Wen Yin felt an indescribable uneasiness in her heart after hearing these words.
In addition to the alienation of the content of the words themselves, what concerned her even more was that the other party seemed to have no reaction to her voice at all.
Even as time passes, the characteristics of a person's voice...
Wen Yin was silent for a while, and finally spoke softly with a last hint of tentativeness:
"Father...my name is Wen Yin."
She held her breath, waiting for the upcoming final verdict.
There was silence for a moment on the other side of the grid.
"Wen Yin..."
The other party murmured the name in a gentle tone, giving a standard and polite evaluation.
“It’s a nice name.”
Then, he asked naturally, just as he would any client who had just finished confession but still seemed troubled:
"So, Wen Yin, besides confession, do you need any other help?"
This sentence was like a bucket of cold water poured over Wen Yin's head, making him understand something instantly.
Gashir...I really don't remember her.
Wen Yin opened her mouth, but her thoughts seemed to be frozen at this moment and she couldn't say a word.
A complex emotion of relief and bitterness surged up again.
This... is fine.
She silently comforted herself that he had forgotten her, which meant he had also forgotten all the pain.
He gained a truly peaceful and tranquil new life. Isn't this exactly what she hoped to see?
"Wen Yin," perhaps because she was silent for too long, the voice carrying the indiscriminate concern of God's love for the world rang out again from the other side, "Do you need any help?"
Wen Yin came back to her senses in the dim confessional, restrained the emotions that were about to be revealed, and looked at the blurry grid again.
"Father, I... I have no money and nowhere to go. Does the church need any help?"
"I can clean the yard, organize books, or help prepare meals..."
"I can do anything, just want a corner to shelter from the wind and rain and some simple food."
There was no special reaction from the other party, as if this was just an ordinary moment that required him to show mercy.
"Can."
The blurry figure moved, and Wen Yin heard the slight sound of the door on the other side of the confessional being opened, followed by his gentle words.
"Then...Wen Yin, let's come out for a talk."
His response was as natural as his response to any wanderer.
No surprises, no waves.
Wen Yin's fingertips trembled slightly as she gently pushed open the door of the confessional.
Outside the door, the light from the church's side hall spread softly, a warm yellow halo formed by the blending of countless candlelight.
The air seemed to be saturated with this warm light, and the silence carried a soothing power.
And in the center of that soft halo, the man stood quietly, as if he was a part of this peaceful space.
The priest turned around.
A face that was very familiar to Wen Yin was revealed.
It is Gahil, a more mature Gahil.
The former Gasiel was like broken glass under the moonlight, carrying breathtaking beauty and danger.
As for the Gashir in front of him, those inhuman traits had been mellowed by time, turning into gentleness and stability.
Around the age of thirty, a man reaches the most mature stage.
The golden hair was warm and restrained, perfectly complementing his increasingly handsome face.
Those pale golden eyes, once a channel for the flow of divinity and an abyss of surging darkness, now look like two pools of amber carefully nurtured by time.
Warm and transparent, it contains a gentle understanding and a wisdom accumulated over time.
When his eyes fell on her, they were filled with compassion and concentration, but no longer with the intense emotions that could burn people.
The white priest robe on him is no longer a symbol of resistance to inhuman brilliance, but an externalization that is in harmony with his own temperament, demonstrating the majesty and benevolence of a guide.
Wen Yin's gaze met the gentle golden color.
In an instant, it seemed like a lifetime ago.
Just a few hours ago, those eyes were filled with broken rays of light and tears of despair, and the silent cry almost tore her soul apart.
But at this moment, they were calm and showed only the most ordinary gentleness.
Gasiel was nearly thirty years old.
This number was like a heavy rock, smashing down on Wen Yin's heart.
To Wen Yin, the heart-wrenching separation seemed to be still before her eyes.
But for Gashir...
But I have really lived for thirty years.
This realization was like a thunderclap, shocking Wen Yin's heart, but it was followed by an almost cruel sense of relief.
He doesn't remember her.
This... is great.
She would rather he was completely forgotten.
She couldn't imagine what kind of torture these thirty years of lonely waiting would have on the heart that she had worked so hard to piece together, if he still remembered everything.
Wen Yin lowered her eyes slightly, suppressing all the overwhelming emotions back into her heart.
When she raised her eyes again, there was only a timid, pale smile on her face.
"Thank you, Father." Wen Yin bowed slightly, her voice soft.
Gasiel looked calm, and nodded slightly, just like he did to every beneficiary.
“May you find peace here.”
After that, he called over the plain-looking young apprentice and instructed him gently, "Take this girl to a safe place and find some clean, warm clothes for her."
The young apprentice agreed, but looked hesitant. He whispered, "Father, there's been a heavy snowstorm lately, and there are so many people staying here that there are really... no more vacant beds."
Upon hearing this, Gasiel's eyes remained calm, as if this was not a difficult problem.
He hesitated for a moment, then spoke casually, his voice as gentle as usual: "That's fine. Clean up the small study next to my room and let her live there temporarily."
The young apprentice was obviously stunned for a moment, and subconsciously looked up at the priest, as if he was a little surprised by this arrangement.
But when he saw the priest's always tolerant and gentle expression, he quickly lowered his head and suppressed his doubts.
The priest is always so kind, willing to share his relatively private space with those in need...
However, the boy couldn't help but grumble in his heart: During the blizzard last year, there were quite a few people taking in, and there weren't enough beds, so the priest had the new homeless people squeeze into a shared bunk with everyone else...
Is it because this time it’s a girl, so she needs special care?
He had some thoughts in his mind, but he didn't show it on his face. He replied "yes" respectfully and motioned Wen Yin to follow him.
Wen Yin obediently followed the boy's footsteps, lowering her head and looking submissive.
After walking a distance and about to turn into another corridor, she couldn't help but look back.
The exceptionally slender figure shrouded in a white priest robe was still standing there, motionless, with his head slightly lowered, as if he was staring intently at something on the ground.
The candlelight made his silhouette look quiet and solemn.
After turning the corner, Wen Yin's view was blocked by the wall and she withdrew her gaze.
-
Gahil was indeed looking at something on the ground.
On the smooth stone floor where Wen Yin had just stood, lay a small, orange flower.
Gasiel saw the flower fall from the hair behind Wen Yin's ear as she bowed to express her gratitude.
But he didn't remind her.
At this time, the petals of the little flower were covered with melting ice and snow.
The water droplets make the orange color more vivid and bright, even with a burning vitality.
In this solemn and gray church environment, it is out of place and extremely glaring.
Gasiel lowered his eyes and stared at the orange color, his golden eyelashes casting a faint shadow under his eyelids.
The light from the candlesticks shone from behind him, immersing most of his face in a gentle halo.
Only in the depths of his lowered eyes, where light could not directly reach, a very obscure dark color, completely different from the peaceful atmosphere around him, flashed through his golden eyes like an undercurrent under the ice.
So fast that it is impossible to catch.
Gahil sighed slowly.
The freshness of the flower was like someone who had left without saying goodbye, and suddenly re-entered his world in a dishevel and fragility.
With a hateful but unignorable presence.
Gashir took a step forward, his movements still graceful and calm.
He bent down, stretched out his slender fingers, and very gently picked up the small flower that was soaked with cold snow water.
The orange petals trembled slightly at his pale fingertips, the warm color forming a sharp contrast with the coolness of his fingertips, almost... giving the illusion of being scorched.
He looked quietly at the dazzling vitality at his fingertips, his eyes deep.
After a moment, he slowly raised his pale knuckles and placed the small but still juice-filled root between his slightly parted lips and teeth.
The movements were gentle, even with an almost pious tone.
Close your lips and clench your teeth.
The bitter yet faintly sweet juice of fresh plants spread in his mouth, accompanied by the subtle touch of petals being crushed and swallowed.
Gasiel chewed it carefully, his Adam's apple rolling slightly, and he swallowed the crushed petals mixed with the juice completely.
It seems that in this way, the person who appears again can be secretly marked and possessed in a way that no one knows.
Under the candlelight, his face remained calm and compassionate.
It was as if the almost blasphemous action just now had never happened.
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The author has something to say: Chew chew chew, hate hate hate...
Chew chew chew chew chew, it’s love is love love love love.
Happy National Day [covering face and peeking]
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