musicians of old

Chapter 821 Night Return
"Brother Fanning, where are you headed?" Bogre's voice was low and slow, revealing no emotion.

As Fan Ning hurriedly walked out of the confessional, he had just turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs when he was stopped by a figure standing in the darkness.

The shadow cast on the church floor tiles was stretched extremely long and slanted by the faint candlelight in the distance.

"Your Excellency Dean," Fan Ning hesitated for a moment.

Compared to the other party's question about "where he was going," what he should explain first is why he was wandering around the monastery in the middle of the night and why he appeared in a corner of the church's spiral staircase.

Originally, seeking confession from Father Squiab was not a taboo subject. The exact time of the meeting and how I missed it until midnight were not known to the other party.

The crucial point is that after Squiaben finished interpreting the scriptural meaning and revealing the mystery of the angel's bow and torch on the west side of the mural "The Day of Wrath," he inexplicably disappeared from the spot.

"I've come to church to pray."

Fanning's report was not entirely true, but it wasn't exactly a lie either.

Moreover, at this moment, Fan Ning was not afraid of lying temporarily in order to uphold the principles of justice. After walking out of the confessional, his mind was made up. There were less than six hours left before the public trial to burn heretics and sheet music. Time was extremely tight, and he would probably tell more lies soon.

However, Bogre is not someone who can be easily deceived. If the answer deviates too much from the truth, there will be a flaw in his mind, and he is very likely to see through it from the details.

It is true that one prays in church. The person presiding over the sacrament of confession is merely a medium, a medium through which the confessor communicates with God.

“What a coincidence, I was just praying too.” Bogre glanced at him.

"May the grace of the Lord, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us all." Fanning placed his hand on his chest and then made the sign of the cross.

Bogret glanced at him indifferently: "Now that you have peace, you may go to bed and rest."

Fan Ning bowed and took a step to leave, but immediately realized that it was probably not so easy to fool him. He still had plans to carry out! If he pretended to go back to his room to rest, he would temporarily get out of sight, but after a little while, he would inevitably have to sneak out again.
Won't this really go unnoticed? It's likely to arouse even more suspicion.

He quickly made up his mind and continued to use this "half-truth" strategy, stating directly: "Your Excellency Dean, I still need to make a trip to the family residence tonight."

“The next day is the grand service, and your elder sister has already settled in the monastery’s guest quarters. Why do you still want to go back?” Bogre asked.

"Because my sister is away from home and has already gone to bed, I had to rush back to handle the family's temporary internal affairs," Fan Ning said calmly.

Standing in the shadows, Bogret stood with his hands behind his back and his eyes slightly narrowed.

"How do you go?"

"I ride my own horse."

"one person?"

"Yes, it was a last-minute trip. The convoy that brought my sister here has already gone back, so it's unlikely that we'll be able to get a ride right away."

"You are also a copyist with the honor of being a deputy deacon. It is of no benefit to God to laboriously drive a horse at night and then perform immediately the next day. The monastery will provide you with a carriage and a coachman."

"Thank you, Dean."

The conversation ended quickly, and Pogrey had already turned and left. Fanning maintained a polite gesture of thanks, and after the footsteps faded into the distance, he finally started walking quickly as well.

Given this person's domineering and indifferent nature, and the fact that they had recently had a falling out over a debate on scriptures, why would someone take such good care of them and even arrange for someone to pick them up and drop them off?
They probably have doubts about my true whereabouts and are using this opportunity to monitor me.

But it doesn't matter. Fanning's itinerary is entirely true, and her overnight trip and return are also entirely true.

Time is of the essence.

After this incident, Fanning simply lit a lantern and, with an air of nonchalance, strode quickly across most of the monastery to the guest quarters near the outer gate.

"Young Master Fan Ning." "Your Excellency, the Copyist." "You're still up so late?"

Qiong's sleeping quarters were in a higher-level area of ​​the guest quarters, with a private courtyard. As soon as Fan Ning reached the corner outside the courtyard gate, the night watchman and his personal guards recognized him.

Although Fanning is not of the direct line, given his current position in the monastery and his expertise in sacred music and Latin, his future is limitless, and the people in the clan would never dare to underestimate or neglect him.

"Her future is limitless." Fan Ning sighed inwardly, gazing towards the guesthouse where Qiong was resting in the courtyard. "Sister, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

“There are two letters here. One is for my sister, and the other I would like you to deliver to the painter Vincent in the second building on the east side.” As the captain of the guard approached, Fan Ning took something from his monk’s robes and added, “Deliver Vincent’s letter immediately, but please wait until dawn to give her my sister’s. Also, please give her this booklet of my research manuscripts as well.”

“There are no problems with Vincent, young master Fanning.” The head guard respectfully accepted the order and stated, “However, Miss Nissimi actually instructed that if you are the one who needs to see her or present something, you can inform her at any time, even if it interrupts important matters, and you don’t necessarily have to wait until she wakes up.”

The head guard assumed that Fan Ning was worried about disturbing Miss Nissimi's rest.

She actually gave such instructions to those around her? Fan Ning was taken aback, but then shook her head: "No, it must be after dawn, not a moment earlier. Vincent's letter must be delivered immediately, not a moment later."

“I understand, Your Excellency.” The captain of the guard was full of doubt, but he still agreed.

Fan Ning was copying the letters that the young lady had written in the past. He kindly reminded her that it was acceptable, but since the other party's intentions were clear, how could he make decisions on his own?

"Thank you for your help. What's your name?" Fan Ning asked.

“Just call me Congreve, sir,” the dark-skinned, tall, and burly head guard replied.

Fan Ning nodded, glanced once more in the direction of the inn, and then turned around.

The carriage that Pogre had arranged for him was already waiting ahead.

"lets go."

Fan Ning didn't even glance at the coachman in front of him; he didn't care whether he looked familiar or unfamiliar.

He boarded the carriage and began to rest with his eyes closed.

It was probably past two in the morning. The night was dark and drizzling, and the sound of horses' hooves echoed across the empty plains, splashing water everywhere.

Two hours later, the rain gradually stopped, and moonlight peeked out from the thick clouds.

"Young Master Fan Ning?"

Why are you home so late at night? Isn't tomorrow tomorrow?

Fanning, who jumped off the carriage, once again astonished a group of guards and confidants in front of the gates of the family castle.

"Lead the way. I need to go to my elder sister's study. I'll be right back and tell her personal butler to get the key."