Chapter 63: Increase the Pay!

Chapter 63: Double the Price!

With the assistance of Aunt Mary and Aunt Winny, today’s luncheon was a grand and sumptuous affair.

Naturally, ever since that fateful day Lady Jenny had brought Eunice to visit their home, Karen had spared no effort to prepare every single meal as beautifully and exquisitely as conditions allowed.

The three main courses consisted of Dongpo pork, Suzhou-style sweet and sour ribs, and braised crab-meat lion’s heads;

The three side dishes were stir-fried eggs with chives, simmered dried tofu shreds, and vegetarian chicken.

The three cold appetizers included cucumber salad, wood ear mushroom salad, and drunken shrimp.

Finally, there was a clay pot of old duck soup.

When Dis returned, Karen rang the small bell just outside the kitchen.

He felt certain that he would miss this exact moment in the future, along with the dynamic picture of his family emerging from both floors, one after another, to take their places at the dining table whenever that sound chimed.

Thus, as he swung the bell, Karen closed his eyes, wishing to etch the crisp resonance of the chime deep into his heart.

With all three shop hands and the three children present today, the table was crowded, which naturally called for a greater variety and abundance of dishes.

After all, given the foundational wealth and income of the Inmeles family, eating them out of house and home under normal circumstances was no easy feat—unless, of course, someone in the family decided to follow in Uncle Mason’s footsteps and try their hand at investing again.

Unsurprisingly, the most popular dish on the table was the sweet and sour ribs; the Rhinelander obsession with sweet flavors was practically etched into their very bones, though the vegetarian chicken also received high praise.

What caught Karen slightly by surprise was how popular the drunken shrimp turned out to be, particularly with Uncle Mason and Ron, who ate them with sheer relish, showing not the slightest hint of psychological aversion.

"Eat this, come on, one for each of you. It took a lot of hard work to make, and it’s bound to be highly nutritious."

Aunt Mary ladled a large lion’s head into the bowls of each of the three children.

Dis was still the first to lay down his knife and fork, though this time he lingered at the table a little longer than usual before rising and uttering, "I am finished. Please, take your time."

The moment he ascended the stairs, the dining table instantly erupted into lively clamor.

"I'll go brew some tea for Grandfather."

This had become something of an unspoken routine that the family took entirely for granted; Dis would always leave the table first, and shortly after, Karen, who was responsible for the main meal, would head upstairs.

Karen walked up to the door of Dis’s room and gave it a soft knock.

"Enter."

Stepping into Dis’s study, Karen found him lighting a single candle.

Karen took a seat in the chair opposite the desk and remarked:

"Grandfather, I also feel that the flame of a candle possesses more of a soul than an electric light."

Dis looked up at Karen,

and said:

"Oh." Dis pointed upward. "The lightbulb is broken."

"..." Karen.

"Tell your uncle this afternoon to replace the bulb."

"Very well, Grandfather."

Dis reached his hand toward his teacup;

Karen stood up, picked up the thermos to pour the hot water for his grandfather, and then sat back down. The thermos in his grandfather’s study was always replenished with a fresh, hot batch before noon every day.

"What is the matter?" Dis inquired.

"Last night's business."

"The circus troupe fled. I have written a report, and the district headquarters will assist in the investigation and handling of it."

"Grandfather, I did not mean the circus. I meant that gentleman."

"Rasma?"

"Is that his name?"

"He is the High Priest of the Church of Order, one of the few representative figures within the secular hierarchy of the faith."

"I see." Karen nodded. "Did he come to investigate the Descent Ritual in the city of Belwin?"

"No, it is because my system of belief has reached a critical threshold, resonating with the Temple of Order. It could no longer be concealed, so the Temple dispatched him to look into my situation."

Hearing this, Karen felt a sense of profound comfort.

It seemed to happen this way every time; Dis rarely initiated conversations to explain things to him, yet whenever Karen took the initiative to ask, Dis never withheld the truth.

This dynamic made things incredibly easy. It saved him from being kept in the dark after major events, and it meant he wouldn't have to wait until someone in the family met with a true calamity before having to piece together the so-called "truth" step by step from some diary or hidden clues left behind.

"They wish for me to enter the Temple, to become a Temple Elder and serve the God of Order."

"Does the God of Order reside within the Temple of Order?" Karen asked out of curiosity.

Dis shook his head. "The Temple is a unique place. Every orthodox church possesses an existence akin to a bounded domain. It is the true core area of the church, where its genuine secrets are hidden.

Such an area is known as the Temple of Order within the Church of Order.

It is said that even the remains of a True God are preserved within the Temple."

"Have you seen it, Grandfather?"

"Twice. Once was inside the Temple of Order, when I was granted entry for a trial in my youth."

"And the second time?" Karen asked instinctively.

There were certain things that, if you did not ask, Dis would likely be too detached to ever mention.

"The second time was because of Pu'er. This involves a century-old secret of the Allen family, which you will come to know in the future."

So, back then, the Allen family had acquired an artifact that was subsequently destroyed by Pu'er—was that the one?

"Understood." Karen pursed his lips. "The Church of Order intends to invite you to enter the Temple as an Elder, and you, Grandfather, intend to refuse?"

"Yes."

"Understood."

Karen nodded.

"Are your questions finished?" Dis asked.

"Yes."

"I thought you would ask me the reason for my refusal."

"I can understand your pride, Grandfather, and I concur with your choice," Karen said. "Had you agreed, only then would I have asked for the reason."

Dis nodded,

and indeed,

conversing with this grandson of his was always immensely satisfying.

He felt a sudden pang of regret for not having dragged Rasma over right then, just so he could ask him: Am I not right?

Dis’s fingertips gently tapped the rim of his teacup as he spoke:

"I can protect all of you, allowing you to go on living here in peace and security.

"Let us put it this way,

I shall ask you one final time,

Wien,

are you truly going?"

"I am going."

"Mm."

The grandfather and grandson continued to sit facing one another, their dialogues ever prone to brevity, for many a thought between them was understood tacitly, requiring no exposition through the medium of spoken tongue.

Yet when life was thus devoid of the padding of idle chatter, it was inevitable that certain moments would seem altogether too quiet.

Furthermore, when certain words were stripped of prelude, their sudden utterance would ring singularly raw and rigid, though both of them could swiftly surmount and digest such things.

"Grandfather, I feel I should still ask you in earnest once more, will you die?"

"No."

"Very well."

Karen's gaze began to drift about the periphery as he pondered whether there remained anything else he ought to ask.

Diss, meanwhile, sipped his tea in silence, granting his grandson ample time for reflection.

After a long while,

Karen stood up and looked at Diss: "I believe I have nothing left to ask, Grandfather."

"Oh."

Karen walked to the study door, letting out a soft "Huh" from his mouth, before turning back to smile at Diss:

"Grandfather, I have thought of something—time."

"Sometimes, not knowing the time can instead bring greater comfort," Diss remarked.

"But those few days of holiday before the school term begins are often spent with a finer sweetness."

"One week from now, at this very hour, you should be able to see the outcome from the very spot where you now stand."

"Yes, very well."

"In addition, that bookmark I gave you, have you written upon it?"

"I did not write," Karen said.

"Did you hesitate?"

"No, it is just that no matter which I write, it would be difficult to bring me any sufficient sense of amusement; hence, I do not intend to write upon it for the time being."

"If you do not write within the week, it will no longer be of any use thereafter, even if you do."

"The shift in Mistress Jenny's attitude made it quite clear to me how precious that bookmark is, yet strangely, I do not feel any regret because of it.

Likewise,

I believe that Ankara, upon receiving the bookmark delivered by the God of Order all those years ago and writing down the names of those few deities, perhaps did not truly loathe and despise them.

This was a manner of expressing a father's love to his daughter, and a daughter's response to that paternal affection.

All things considered,

this is a family tale of deep affection between father and daughter; those few deities who fell because of it were merely incidental foils, unable to enter even the background."

Diss reminded him: "Yet the God of Order, for the sake of the majesty of the Light of Order, personally cast his transgressing daughter into the jaws of the vicious beast."

This was the imagery of the religious painting *The Light of Order*; Karen had seen Linda's artwork at Piaget's residence, and moreover, detailed records of it existed within that book.

"He possesses his facet as a benevolent father, doting greatly upon his daughter, not hesitating to let the fall of several deities serve as a piece of amusement gifted to her;

he also possesses his majesty as a god, for the sake of the sacredness of order, personally casting his beloved daughter into the jaws of the vicious beast as a punishment.

A benevolent father, a true god capable of obliterating his own humanity for the sake of order.

It must be said,

such a description does indeed conform precisely to the imagination the faithful harbor toward the true god above their heads."

Diss smiled, asking: "So, what is it you wish to say?"

"What I wish to say is, since they were able to purge the records regarding the God of Light from the mythological narratives entirely, then might this tale also be for the sake of a deliberate embellishment?"

"Your meaning is that the painting *The Light of Order* is a falsehood."

"I believe it should be real, yet at times, speaking only a portion of the truth can often achieve a better effect than a lie.

The vicious beast within the painting is truly terrifying,

but,

what if,

what if that vicious beast was originally just a pet kept in the household of the God of Order?

Or perhaps,

that vicious beast was merely another... Pu'er?"

Diss fell into silence.

Karen closed the door.

After a long while,

Diss began to chuckle softly,

he looked at the neatly arranged desk before him,

and the laughter gradually began to amplify,

until at last,

it reached a point borderline arrogant and unbridled.

Only, this sound would not escape the study in the slightest.

After laughing for a very, very long time,

Diss finally came to a halt following two coughs of his own,

he drew a deep breath,

and said:

"What you say makes a great deal of sense."

...

Emerging from his grandfather's study, Karen habitually sat by the third-floor windowsill, and habitually scooped Pu'er into his embrace, placing both hands beneath its fur to gather warmth.

Pu'er, having dined upon chopped pepper fish head at noon, permitted his insolence.

However,

next,

Pu'er was placed flat on his back by Karen;

"Ugh..."

Pu'er's tail curled up once more, as he always used it to shield his modesty whenever he was in this position.

"Open up."

Karen reached out, gently prying Pu'er's mouth open to look inside before releasing him.

"What are you looking for?" Pu'er asked, utterly perplexed.

"Checking to see if you're deliberately hiding something in there."

"Is there something wrong with your head today?"

"Dis said there are still seven days left."

"Seven days?" Pu'er turned his head, casting a glance at the study door. "I'm quite looking forward to it."

"I'm not particularly looking forward to it," Karen said, "but I can understand."

Karen stood up, gazing out at the road beyond through the French windows.

Returning to the windowsill, Pu'er extended a paw and lightly tapped the window pane:

"Though glass is transparent, it shields you from sensing the wind and rain outside."

Karen reached out and flicked the cat's head:

"I don't need you feeding me philosophical fish soup just yet."

"My point is, you could easily open the window and let the outside wind blow in."

Karen opened the window; the wind was fierce today, deep in the dead of winter;

The biting chill ruffled Karen's hair and disheveled Pu'er's fur,

And both man and cat shuddered in unison.

Then, Karen closed the window back up.

In a voice trembling slightly from the cold, Pu'er said:

"You see... once you've experienced it... and felt the cold... you can always just close the window again... Meow-tchoo!"

...

"Those were his exact words."

Inside a guest room, Rasma sat upon the bed, while upon the three walls around him, the silhouettes of three figures clad in black divine robes were projected.

"I am no longer willing to tolerate his insolence," a female voice echoed from one of the walls. "His heart has clearly and unmistakably strayed from Order."

"Yet we have no other choice, for it has been a very long time since a new Elder who comprehends the profound mysteries of Order has joined the Temple. The Temple's operations are on the verge of facing a generational gap.

We need him, that is an undeniable fact."

"Yes, and the even more awkward truth is that the best possible outcome is for us to accept his entry, allowing the core of the Temple to be effectively replenished so we may guard the glory of the Temple and Order together.

Whereas the worst possible outcome is that not only will the core of the Temple fail to receive fresh blood, but he also possesses the capability to inflict devastating damage upon the Temple.

A Temple Elder is not artificially canonized by us; rather, the recognition is bestowed by the core of the Temple itself.

The moment the core of the Temple recognized him, he attained the same authority we possess to directly interface with it.

He knows perfectly well that alone, he is by no means a match for the entire Church of Order, yet he has the power to turn our profits into deficits. This shift alone would incur a loss that is simply too monumental to bear."

"Heh, so when he said right to your face all those years ago that Order is merely a mask worn upon the countenance, why did you not punish his crime then?" the female Elder interrogated.

"As I have said, it was out of appreciation for talent, and facts have proven that I was not mistaken. Compared to him, Rasma, whom we have long pinned high hopes upon and showered with vast resources and cultivation, is practically a fool and an idiot."

Sitting on the bed, Rasma rolled his eyes.

"Must we truly wait seven days for him then?" the female Elder asked.

"We wait."

"We must wait; we shall gamble on that twenty percent chance."

"I don't want to wait. Since he wishes to act like a child playing with building blocks, then I don't mind playing the part of a mother who, in a fit of rage, only wishes to spank the child's bottom.

If he wants to act crazy,

Then I shall make him see what true madness entails!"

"Xiti, please restrain yourself."

"Xiti, everything must be done for the sake of the Temple."

"Heh, the two of you are truly..."

Rasma sat there obediently, listening to the three Temple Elders bicker.

Then,

He suddenly realized the voices of the three Elders had vanished in an instant. Rasma immediately looked up and found that the figures of all three Elders had turned to face the east.

"The location of Belwin City is not far from where the extraordinary Divine Descent Ritual was last held."

"The aura of this extraordinary Divine Descent Ritual still employs the laws of Divine Descent from our own Church of Order."

Elder Xiti's voice came through: "Rasma."

"Present."

"Go to Dis's house right now and confirm his location."

"Understood."

Just as Rasma was preparing to depart, he suddenly heard three sharp gasps of astonishment:

"This summons... it is an evil god, the genuine aura of an evil god!"

"I sense the sealing aura of the Great God of Order. This evil god is an entity sealed by the Great God of Order itself, and someone is attempting to summon it to descend from the abyssal depths of the seal!"

"It is Rerilsa, Rerilsa of the Wall God Sect. It is unmistakably her aura; someone is guiding her descent!"

And at that moment,

Rasma also finally detected the ripples of a powerful and eerie aura from afar, though his perception was significantly slower than that of the three Temple Elders.

"Let us go. An entity sealed by the Great God of Order can absolutely never be permitted to return!"

The phantom of one Elder transformed into a streak of flowing light, flying toward the east.

"Has it truly come to this, that they insult our Church of Order as if we have no one left to defend it?"

The phantom of another Elder likewise turned into flowing light and flew toward the east.

"Rasma, go confirm if Dis is at home. If he is, tell him that we agree to his demand for negotiations in seven days."

Having spoken, Elder Xiti's figure followed suit.

Rasma narrowed his eyes. Compared to the matter of Dis, the Divine Descent Ritual of the evil god Rerilsa appeared far more urgent and could not be delayed.

For Rerilsa was a "true god," or rather an "evil god," personally sealed by the God of Order, a sworn enemy of the Church of Order. Should her descent succeed, she would inevitably become a calamity for the Church of Order in the future.

Had it been the descent of an evil god holding a grudge against some other church, the Church of Order might well have chosen to simply stand by and watch.

For instance, when the dark gods sealed by the God of Light descended one after another back then, the other orthodox great churches all tactfully chose to watch the fire from across the river, sitting idly by as the Church of Light fell into violent turmoil.

Above Belwin City, to the east of Luojia City, the originally clear sky transformed into rolling dark clouds.

From within those dark clouds,

the silhouette of a giantess was looming, seemingly attempting to break through the seals binding her entire body to grasp the source of this calling.

Yet this source was continuously growing weaker, evidently no longer able to sustain it, and this ritual of divine descent was forced into a state of decay.

The giantess’s roar of reluctant grievance echoed through the air,

unwilling, so utterly unwilling, she wanted to try just once more, and hoped that the one who summoned her could hold on a little longer, though perhaps she too understood that everything was nigh irreversible.

What was crueler still,

three rainbows manifested across the vault of heaven,

and from within those rainbows emerged three massive figures clad in black divine robes;

"The majesty of the God of Order shall not be violated!"

"The banished dark god shall not return!"

"The light of Order shall not be desecrated!"

The three colossal figures struck simultaneously, and in an instant, the silhouette of that giantess upon the vault of heaven shattered and vanished entirely, carrying away even those rolling dark clouds, which quickly dispersed.

Nevertheless, the three massive figures grew considerably dimmer because of it.

"Is it you?"

Xiti extended her hand, grasping a nearly transparent soul in mid-air.

"It was you who twice attempted to use an over-specified ritual of divine descent to summon a dark god."

Linda's silhouette appeared within Xiti's palm, a smile gracing her face as she said:

"Filthy Order does not deserve to borrow the name of Light. I have painted countless religious paintings, and the one that disgusts me most is 'The Light of Order'."

"Heh..."

Xiti did not argue,

instead,

she clenched her palm, and without any surprise, this wisp of a soul collapsed and scattered, its final traces thoroughly erased.

...

"Do you still want to come in for tea?"

At the entrance of the Inmerais home, Diss stood beneath the eaves, looking at Lasma who stood at the courtyard gate.

Lasma shook his head:

"No, Diss, I detest you, and by extension I loathe everything related to you; your home is a place I do not wish to take a single step into, for fear it would dirty the soles of my shoes and sicken my soul."

Lasma turned, speaking as he walked outward:

"Seven days!"

...

Inside the living room, Karen held the receiver, and from the other end of the line came Piaget's voice;

he was laughing: "Hahaha, I saw it, Karen, I saw Linda's final masterpiece, it was truly staggering, truly beautiful to the extreme, I have never seen such a magnificent canvas, hahaha, this is what is called art, this is what is called true art!"

"Congratulations to you," Karen said, "and congratulations to Linda."

Immediately following that,

he began to weep again:

"Waaa... waaa..."

A grown man, weeping heart-wrenchingly on the other end of the line.

Karen listened quietly to his crying;

after a long while,

Piaget's tear-choked voice came through the line:

"Karen, I have lost my lover once more, my dear Linda, she has left me yet again."

Karen spoke into the receiver:

"Stop crying, you must learn to adapt, do not weep and wail every single time; because in the future there will be a third time, a fourth time, and many more times."

"Waaa... pfft... waaa... pfft... hahahaha!"

Piaget on the other end of the line was driven to laugh and cry simultaneously by Karen's words,

and only after a good while did things calm down over there:

"Karen, it seems I must pay you another psychological counseling fee, twenty thousand lubis, right? I'll withdraw it for you when I return from Belwin."

"Oh, my dear friend, do you know how drastically prices have risen lately?"

"So?"

"The price has gone up."

"Good heavens, my friend, you cannot be so cruel, I have lost my lover, and you are actually thinking of making money off me? Don't you feel ashamed earning this kind of money?"

"Not in the slightest, because my family specifically does business with the dead."

"Friend, what you say truly makes so much sense, the argument is so well-substantiated that I actually don't know how to refute you.

But why is the second time more expensive than the first?

Shouldn't old customers get a discount?"

"Because though my family has been open for so many years, working diligently all the while, this is the very first time we have ever had a repeat customer."

"Uh..."

"Therefore, I need to raise the price."

"That makes no sense," Piaget shouted.

"From a psychological perspective, it makes perfect sense."

"Hmm?"

"Always doing the same thing makes the mind feel irritable and weary; this increases my psychological burden, which is to say, it raises the cost of the service.

When you come to weep and complain to me for the third and fourth time in the future, if there is no progressively accumulating service fee, I fear I won't be able to restrain myself from cursing at you.

Because I will feel that you are deliberately flaunting to me, time after time."

"Flaunting?"

"Others are enduring the grief of losing a lover. While you are continuously reaping the joy of a lover's return."

"Smack!"

From the other end of the line came a crisp sound, followed by a sharp cry of pain; Karen deduced that Piaget must have slapped his own thigh rather fiercely.

Immediately afterward,

A voice burst through the receiver, sharp and breathless:

"Ha, I'll pay double!"