Jania never thought of herself as a cold-blooded person.
Of course, she cares about her family and friends, as well as Leo and his friends. She will also feel sad for strangers, such as meeting an old and disabled beggar, or dragging several young children on the street. A woman who works. But if someone easily acted like he was heartbroken and about to cry towards a beggar on the roadside, she would feel disgusted for no reason.
Is this something wrong? It is easy for a person to express his abundant compassion and loving-kindness, and even if this reaction is not regarded as a virtue, it seems far from being abhorrent. But she just didn't like Urmia Lyman - the only son of a rich family who was obsessed with Hannah, the middle-aged baby of a couple of university professors, who had been carefully cared for in a mansion with rose-colored stone walls since childhood. He reminded Jania of a teacup dog, so pure and delicate, so innocent and lovable, and all of this was not deliberately disguised, just like the teacup dog never deliberately wanted to be cute, those postures and behaviors were purely natural. ——It’s just nature that has been carefully designed and cultivated by humans. Just as God shaped stupid and naked people according to his own wishes, man shaped dogs according to his own wishes. Those purebreds with many genetic diseases. Teacup dogs. King Charles Spaniel. Chihuahua.
She struggled to do Lyman justice. She had many reasons to persuade herself to do so: Hermia Lyman was extremely well-bred for a boy of his age (and even for an adult of his own class). He was courteous and kind, and he had a gentle and kind attitude toward all the hot topics of the day, and he really did mean it. How many wealthy young men of his age would be willing to spend several weekends helping organize a campus charity event? Even if he had other motives - that is, Hannah was the main force of the organization - at least he did help. But she just couldn't forget one little thing. She always thought of that Friday evening and that dirty and ugly scavenger. So there was always a feeling of contempt and anger towards Ermia Lehmann in her heart.
Maybe I'm not a fair enough person, she thought to herself, maybe I'm a little cold-blooded, and even though I always try to appear moral, I'm not actually that sincere. She had to admit that she did not care whether Urmia Lehmann had a pure and beautiful soul, nor did she have any romantic sentimentality. She never appreciated the delicate and roundabout rhetoric of Lyman, and what was worse than that was that she had never been moved by any literary and artistic plot about family love. What if mom or dad died one day? She really thought about it, but it didn't evoke the kind of sentimentality and fear that people love to describe. She didn't think her parents would go to heaven, at least her mother wouldn't go, and her father certainly wouldn't go either. They just die, someday in the future. She never felt sad when she thought about this fact, nor was it the emotional state of a decent person.
She tried to find an explanation for herself, that is, she had not really experienced it yet. Maybe imagining her own loss is not the same thing as actually experiencing it. Maybe when she actually finds herself alone in the world, grief and despair will flood her like a flood. Then she will realize that she is neither particularly cold-blooded nor particularly strong, but just an ordinary person with nothing to do. This was how she comforted herself in the past, but after tonight she might not be so sure anymore.
She stared at a cloud of dust dancing in the cobalt blue light, slowly digesting the news, savoring how it would make her feel, as if she were picking a dish of sesame seeds from the ashes. While she was secretly observing the changes in her psychology, she noticed that Gerd Schilling on the stairs was looking at her furtively. His look, to Jania, seemed to be waiting for her to shake her head violently and say "You're lying" in a trembling voice.
It was possible that he was lying, to break her spirits, but Jania saw no need for that. If her brother was still conscious, fake Xilin wouldn't be able to walk downstairs so easily. No matter what method he used, he had already dealt with her brother. And if all the blood on his body came from one person, Zhannia would think that person was indeed dead. Her brother was dead—the thought lingered in her head without stirring up sadness or anger, as it had when she'd fallen into a coma on the beach. Now that the deal was done, all she could think about was that she had to see the body and find out what tactics Gerd Schilling had used. And that wasn't even the first priority, now she had to think about how to get through this hurdle.
"What are you?" she asked, then changed her words, "What's your real name?"
"I have given up my old name," said the thing on the stairs. "I have acted for a higher cause."
"You know Lenny Klein?"
The man who once called himself Gerd Schilling smiled. "He praised you," said the stranger. "Even in our sleep we heard him occasionally say your name. He was always impressed by you."
Hearing this did not frighten Jania. She was right again—there was something like Kollein about this man. She stared at him, recalling what she had read in the newspaper. Of course she remembered the two faces that had been published in the photos, but what was strange to her was that the features and age of those two faces did not match the people in front of her. He did look more like the Gerd Schilling that Doppler Colon said he did than any man who might have escaped from prison. How is that done? A prearranged plastic surgery? But if he could sneak into Regenberg after escaping from prison, investigate Gerd Schilling's appearance, and then arrange a plastic surgery without any legal procedures, that would be too powerful.
"I read about an accident in the paper," she said. "Termites collapsed the prison."
"Oh, those aren't termites."
Needless to say, Jania thought to herself, termites can’t bring Klein out of the sea. "I also saw two other names in the paper."
The man smiled happily, with some unknown pride: "Tell me about it."
"Laubert, the one who caused accidents to the patients under his care. And..." Jania glanced at the other person's expression, "Lot who loves to kill minorities and homeless people."
A burst of laughter broke out from the other party's mouth. The laughter was so hearty and cheerful, like one heard in sports stadiums and carnivals, that Jania suddenly felt sick to her stomach. There was a fire rising in her belly, and she endured the burning feeling and whispered, "Lot."
"The only pure man in this sinful city," the other party said, "the son of Abraham, the man who led the two angels into the city, Lot!"
"Lot, who gave his own daughter to the mob," Jania couldn't help but retorted, "Why don't you sacrifice yourself? Since you can hear the crazy things Lennie Klein said in his dreams, I guess your relationship is very good. Same as usual."
The other party's expression changed instantly. He looked at Zhannia fiercely, as if he had been slapped in the face by her. Jania knew that this was not a good thing, and that her behavior was just like her brother's and adding fuel to the fire. But what does that matter? The rebellious voice in her heart said that if the other party had already made up his mind to kill her, flattery would not change anything.
"You stupid and despicable girl, you better learn to behave." His voice became vicious, "I will not let a woman treat myself as a toy. If you don't know what the rules are, I will teach you them myself. you."
You sick sociopath, Jania thought to herself, you could be homophobic while on your knees licking Lenny Klein's ass. But she couldn't get the words out of her mouth that would have made her mother scream.
"I don't remember you looking like this before you were imprisoned, Lot." She changed the subject calmly, "It's funny how prison life can make you look more like a policeman."
"Ged Schilling" - now Jania was more convinced that his name was Lot, but she could not quite remember his last name for a while - now smiled triumphantly, as if he thought the question Jania pointed out revealed something. A certain transcendence within himself. So he immediately forgot about his previous rebuttal.
"Of course you can't imagine it," he said quickly. "It's part of the revelation... that for those who are pious enough, even if they are trapped in the most helpless place in the world, they will be rescued."
But he was wrong. Jania had already met Colin on that strange night, and since then she had been able to imagine and accept the most bizarre ways of escaping from prison. But she still pretended to be doubtful, so as to arouse the other party's desire to talk more. She sometimes laughs at the villains in the story who like to talk to their victims too much, but at the same time she can understand why they do it - it is so attractive to be listened to by others with their undivided attention, and all the facts are just Being able to interpret and interpret by yourself, and all the most shameless stupid words are difficult to refute. Who can resist such a happy thing? Old people long to preach to young people, celebrities and bosses long to show their success to those at the bottom, and aspiring murderers of course also hope to express themselves to their lower reaches of power. There is no more direct power than the threat of death. The dying person will have every word of his words engraved in his mind. Could there be any higher attention and adulation than this? That was the perfect time to be narcissistic, as Hannah would definitely say.
"You must have bribed the prison guards," Jania said in a deliberately shrill voice, "I know that's what you did."
The other party laughed dumbly. "You stupid girl," he said with contempt, but also showing more complacency and satisfaction, "you are just a little smarter than other stupid people, but your imagination only goes so far. Bribing the prison guard ? Do you think you can do something like me by bribed prison guards? You have witnessed it with your own eyes before, but it must be beyond your understanding. Well, it seems I have to let you see it again. "
He raised his hand forward, and the shadow reflected on the steps also followed it, crawling layer by layer on the fence-like light spots on the stairs until it crossed the boundary of the cobalt blue light. Zhaniya hadn't fully understood what was going on, but her instinct made her shrink her neck suddenly. Something sharp passed by her cheek, a short scream burst into the air, and then something collapsed behind her.
Zhaniya's body fell to the side and staggered half a step. She stood firm, stretched out her right hand and touched her face. There was no stinging sensation in her cheek, but that might be because the wound on her right hand was enough. When she was sure that she was basically still alive, she turned around and quickly glanced behind her. By the light from the kitchen, she saw that the outermost chair at the dining table had been overturned, perhaps torn apart. In a quick glance, she could only see that the back of the chair had fallen to the ground, and all four chair legs were only a short length left. In an instant, she imagined an extremely specific and horrifying scene in her mind: her brother just fell to the ground, his torso was in the same direction as the back of the chair, and his broken limbs were scattered everywhere. The inside of her chest shook violently, and the calmness of the crisis was disturbed.
She looked back at Lot, thinking rapidly in her mind. The situation was a bit desperate, and she had to admit it, but she still had to continue taking risks, like banging on a gradually lowering iron wall, hoping that there would still be a gap to escape, until a blur The idea gradually formed in her head.
"I did see it," she said. "Okay, here's what got you out of trouble, and I admit it's impressive... but what evidence do you have to call it a miracle?"
Lot's face looked very sinister, as if he was considering slapping her with the shadow-like thing. But he didn’t do that, so Zhannia continued quite riskyly: “As far as the stories I know, no saint has ever used this kind of miracle to perform miracles... What should I call it? The chosen mark? But It doesn't look sacred at all. I think it looks like witchcraft and the work of the devil. How can you prove it's sacred?"
"I can make it devour your flesh and blood." Rod said softly, "I will hang your head on the door of your ridiculous home, just like the heads of pagan generals on their city gates. "
It would be false to say that this sentence is not scary, but Zhannia still decided to carry out the plan to the end. She made up her mind not to show any cowardice, but said in a slightly provocative tone: "You can do this, but I don't know any saint in the scriptures who did this. Only the evil gods of pagans can do such things. "
She paused a little guiltily, for in fact she had never read the Bible in its entirety. She had only read the first two of the five books, and Malcolm was always vague about the content between Joshua and Job. Jania didn't have the patience to verify it, but she intuitively felt that there must be something in it that adults didn't want children to see. But now she has no way out, she has nothing to be ashamed of, Hannah once pretended to read a book that didn't exist, just to amuse Lyman.
"Only Salome would ask for the head of St. John." She said boldly, "If you chop off my head, it will only prove that I am a martyred saint, and you are just a wizard who flatters the devil. Even if you kill me, I will go to heaven because I am more pious than you."
"Nonsense." Lot said, his face expressionless, but his shoulders slightly raised in excitement, "You know nothing about the kingdom of heaven."
"Do you know more than me?" Zhannia asked, the fingers holding the knife moved quietly to relieve the paralysis caused by poor blood flow. "If you are truly an inspired person, you should turn water from the rock. , and then turn the water into wine, only then can people be convinced."
"That power belongs to only one person," Lot said, "but I have seen that paradise..."
A flash of obsession flashed across his face, and his voice drifted and trailed off. Jania realized that this might be her last chance - she could rush forward and plunge the bread knife into his abdomen. But in the end she chose to hold back because the chances of success looked too slim: she wasn't close enough to Lot, the knife wasn't reliable enough, and the belly wasn't lethal enough. These were all good reasons, and beyond all rational considerations, she found herself curious about this strange occurrence.
"Paradise?" she asked. Asking this might have ended her best chance of launching a sneak attack, but Lot seemed extremely pleased with her question. He slowly stretched out his hands in front of the window, looking toward the dust in the air with fascination, as if he was caressing and admiring things that Zhaniya could not see.
"That night I arrived at the place where the four rivers originate." Lot said, "When the cage collapsed, I walked into the night and fog. The fog was bright, but excessive hunger and thirst made me close to blindness. I was I wandered in that wilderness for a long time, praying for protection and enlightenment, but I never lost faith, so I deserved to be rewarded. In the glowing mist, I heard the sound of the river. What a sound of nature! Everything They are as beautiful as the scriptures say, or even better. I have seen the lush orchards, the gold, the pearls, and the onyx. I was baptized in the orchards and was given new life.”
Jania listened blankly. She looked into the other person's eyes and felt that these were all crazy words. But after all, she had also seen a strange sight, a hanging garden in the sea. How different is it from the Eden outside the island prison? However, witnessing that scene did not bring her anything. She did not gain any supernatural power. For a moment she felt dazed, out of touch with her immediate situation and in pure confusion about the vast world itself. But she quickly found her feet again. "Did you see the angels? The ones you were ordered to watch over?"
Rhodes's face darkened again, really like a person who was driven out of Elysium by angels. "I heard their voices. Those from heaven and those from Galilee. They taught me how to escape from that island. They set me free because they understood that my actions were all for a higher purpose. Serve."
"But what is your plan, Lot? Why are you here? Did they ask you to come?"
Maybe it was just an illusion of the moonlight. In the brief silence, Zhaniya felt that Lot's face was as blank as hers. He didn't seem to know why he was here, and none of them could grasp their position in front of those visions and strange things. The realization almost made her identify with the monster in front of her—almost, if he hadn't probably killed her brother.
“All actions are part of the grand plan,” Lot said. “Mortal eyes are not equipped to see the full picture.”
Jania cocked her head to the side. "They didn't give you a clear plan, right?" she speculated. "You just came to me based on Klein's words. But in fact, this was not the idea they gave you. What they gave you was just—— ” She stretched out her arm and waved, and her shadow did the same. "Such a skill."
"Such a skill!" Lot snapped, "Do you think this is some stupid little magic trick?"
Jania remained silent, deliberately showing herself irrefutable. What she was weighing in her mind was the last encounter. Zhou Wenxing did not mention any religious topics, nor did Chi Labin. The two of them seemed to understand the situation better than Luo, because they seemed not surprised at all by their own abnormalities. "This is not magic, but you can't prove that it's not witchcraft, Lot. If you want to prove that you are in contact with divine power, you have to come up with more convincing evidence. They don't ask you to resurrect the dead. , I don’t ask you to turn water into wine, but you are given such an unheard-of ability. What’s the point? You have to explain this, right?”
Her tone was so soft that it was almost unfamiliar to her, as if she was already guilty and about to be shaken by the miracle. She continued without waiting for the other party to speak: "I know that angels also kill people - a lot of them, but they didn't ask you to kill my brother, right? You did it yourself, because Klein mentioned it I."
"All my thoughts are hidden from them," Lot said. "They already knew that I wanted to be here. And since I am here, they asked me to come."
This is really an argument of its own, Zhannia thought bitterly, how happy she would be if she could use this kind of logic in mathematical proof problems. And this is why she always hates people who talk about scriptures, and I'm afraid she will hate them even more from now on. If she has a future. "Are you sure they sent you here to destroy me? Kolain loves killing children because he thinks it will give him purification and immortality. I don't remember this being said by God."
"God is loving." Lot declared inexplicably solemnly. "Klain's starting point was good, and his heart was focused on the Tao. It was just his romanticized thoughts that caused him to misread the revelation."
That's a huge misunderstanding. Zhannia pursed her lips and controlled her tongue, but her shoulders relaxed involuntarily. "Then you have no reason to kill me."
"You are a blasphemer, little girl. You must have done many irreverent deeds, some of which may have been hidden from me, but not from divine eyes. A woman who practices witchcraft must not be allowed to live."
You might as well tie me up and throw me into the river, Jania thought to herself, and see if I sink or float or if I can perform a magic trick to escape. "I haven't done any magic. Didn't Klein tell you? All I did to him was call my parents. Is there anything evil in this?" There was a hint of questioning in her tone. . "And you know what I think, Lot? Maybe you're right, they do want you to come to me. But not to kill me - haven't you ever thought that the disciples' duty is to spread the doctrine?"
For the first few seconds, Lot seemed to have trouble digesting her language, like one of those Hanoverian Brits trying to understand a Southern accent. Jania didn't give him a chance to formulate his words, but instead threw out the words she thought of first. "It was Mary who witnessed the resurrection of Christ - the Magdalene," she tried to put a wavering yearning and curiosity into her tone, "They said Mary was a prostitute, but she was also gifted disciple, right? Women can be the most devout believers...even my brother might be, if you didn't kill him."
She saw a sneer on Lot's face. Obviously she was a little too impatient, but she couldn't stop, so she made up her mind and said: "My brother is a man who has seen miracles, Lot, whether you believe it or not, this is absolutely true. Before you showed up, he was telling me He met Klein."
