Madmen don't keep diaries

Chapter 260, Page 259: The Grand Cathedral Library
Let the bullet fly for a while.

Feng Xiuhu wanted to wait for things to develop further.

So, taking advantage of his free time, he went to a place he had always wanted to visit but never had the chance to go.

Superficiality is not about indulging in debauchery.

It's neither vulgar nor romantic like a nightclub.

It was the Grand Cathedral Library.

Feng Xiuhu had many questions he wanted answered. Shi might know enough, but he might not tell Feng Xiuhu the answers, and even if he did, the answers might not be the truth.

I might as well go to a place where I can find the answer, take it out, and at least prevent Shi from lying to my face.

……

Today, Feng Xiuhu went alone without anyone by his side.

All priests and guards are entitled to access the library, regardless of their rank.

But this does not mean that the library's security is not strict enough.

In fact, in Feng Xiuhu's view, the number of Divine Guards stationed here was no less than that of the dungeon.

This actually confirms one of Feng Xiuhu's guesses—that in a world where gods exist, history and knowledge are even more valuable.

The library is located at the end of the arcade in the north wing of the cathedral. A nearly ten-meter-high oak door is carved with a relief depicting the god of mist guiding the lost. At the top of the stone pillars on both sides stand statues of two deities holding pens to write—whether they are angels or gods, Feng Xiuhu did not know, and he certainly did not recognize them.

As Feng Xiuhu pushed open the door, an ancient scent, a mixture of aged parchment and beeswax, wafted out.

Looking around, the main hall is laid out in a cross shape, with four porphyry pillars supporting the magnificent dome. The pillars are spirally wrapped with reliefs of misty chains, and if you look closely, you can faintly see traces of flashing runes on each link of the chain.

The dome is made of tens of thousands of pieces of patterned glass. When sunlight shines through the glass, it casts flowing, colorful halos on the ground.

A twelve-tiered walnut bookshelf radiates along the wall, each tier decorated with gilded patterns along its edges. Ladders with pulleys are interspersed between the shelves for accessing ancient books. Some precious manuscripts are chained to the reading shelves, and even the category labels on the bookshelves are made of enamel, clearly indicating each section.

"Cough cough."

Feng Xiuhu was engrossed in watching when he was interrupted by a cough.

He turned to look at the source of the sound—it turned out that the counter was right next to the door.

The counter was piled high with books, so much so that Feng Xiuhu didn't recognize it at first glance.

Behind the pile of books, a white-haired head peeked out.

It was an elderly foreigner who was adjusting his monocle and sizing up Feng Xiuhu.

Feng Xiuhu noticed that his priest's robe was in the style of a bishop, but there were no patterns on the shoulders that symbolized a bishop's status.

The old foreigner was holding a feather duster—he seemed to have been sweeping dust, but was interrupted by Feng Xiuhu's sudden arrival.

It's not that the old foreigner was wary; the main reason was that Feng Xiuhu wasn't wearing a priest's robe today. He was still dressed in his Western-style overcoat, and his demeanor was nothing like that of a priest.
But outsiders can't get here.

Having figured this out, the old foreigner opened the notebook on the table, glanced at Feng Xiuhu, and said, "Register me. What's your name?"

Feng Xiuhu took out a brooch from his pocket and showed it to the old foreigner: "Feng Xiuhu, Father of the Church in the Factory District."

The old foreigner raised his eyebrows in surprise: "Oh, look who's here, the big shot of Fancheng."

Feng Xiuhu asked curiously, "You know me too?"

The old foreigner smiled and said, “Of course, for a long time, I always heard your name mentioned by those young deacons—don’t look at me with that expectant look, I’m pretty sure it’s not something nice.”

Feng Xiuhu touched his nose dejectedly: "Those are all rumors." The old foreigner shook his head and said: "Rumors originate from ignorance and end with wisdom, so wise people never care about them."

These words are profound; Feng Xiuhu was filled with respect.

The old man looked down and took out yesterday's newspaper from the drawer, asking, "So, do you and Conat Chen really have a secret past?"

Feng Xiuhu tore the newspaper to shreds in a few quick movements, then threw it at the old foreigner's face: "Where are the history books?"

The old foreigner ran his fingers through his hair, sending bits of paper and dandruff flying everywhere.

He pointed inside and said, "Keep going in and look at the labels. The ones with red background and gold lettering are theological works, while the ones with blue background and silver lettering are historical texts."

Feng Xiuhu left angrily.

Following the directions on the label, he quickly found the corresponding area.

Along the bookshelf, Feng Xiuhu looked at the titles on the spines one by one, searching for the book he wanted—"A Study of Sacred Marks: True Records of Miracles", "Pilgrimage to Sacred Relics: Iterative Research on High-Level Magical Artifacts", "Cracks in Faith: Religious Divisions and Unity", "Records of Divine Punishment: The Lament of Evil Gods"...

The books covered a wide range of topics, some even in a chaotic manner, but fortunately, Feng Xiuhu found something of value in them.

He picked out a few books and returned to the reading area in the center.

Several obsidian reading tables are set up here, with the tabletops inlaid with runes outlined in amethyst. Each table is equipped with a brass reading rack and paper and pens for easy access.

The spacious seats are also meticulously designed, with soft cushions filled with certain herbs that not only repel bookworms but also refresh the mind.

Feng Xiuhu picked up the first book, his fingertips tracing the cover, the gold-embossed title having a textured feel.

The title reads: "Fog and Light: The Awakening of God".

Just as I was about to open the cover, Shi spoke up after a long absence.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

Feng Xiuhu murmured, "There are too many. The ones you always avoided, the ones you deliberately didn't tell me, and the ones I don't know are true or false."

Shi sighed: "I thought we trusted each other enough."

Feng Xiuhu thought for a moment: "It depends on the situation."

Shi asked, "What's going on?"

Feng Xiuhu said, "When our common interests are harmed, we are as close as one person."

Shi corrected him: "We are one person—what about the other situation?"

Feng Xiuhu pouted: "You're not being sincere."

After saying that, he opened the cover.

In his previous conversations with Shi, and in the conclusions that Feng Xiuhu deduced by combining information from various sources, he already knew a fact.

The earliest new gods who ascended to the altar by plundering the bones of the original gods did not receive a lifespan commensurate with their power.

They eventually died like mortals, either passing on their divine bones to their successors or hiding away as spirits to eke out a living.

This situation continued until Xi Jun appeared.

Feng Xiuhu's first question lies here—what was Shi doing before Xi Jun appeared? Had he already "betrayed" the group of primordial gods at that time? And when did he come together with Xi Jun?

P.S.: Feng Xiuhu, if you can't travel ten thousand miles, at least read ten thousand books first.

(End of this chapter)