Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 94 The Holy Coins and Linen

"The Chicken That Lays Golden Eggs" is a very interesting story.

There are three versions of the same story.

The earliest example is "The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs" from Aesop's Fables, dating back to the 6th century BC. The story of "Killing the Goose to Get the Eggs" in the Ming Dynasty Chinese novel "Stories to Awaken the World" bears a high degree of similarity to this one.

In 1668, a French publication, La Fontaine's Fables, also contained a nearly identical story.

In the story, the golden hen that brought its owner lasting wealth was killed by the greedy farmer with a knife, and in the end, the greedy man gained nothing.

The housekeeper handed the book to the priest in black robes, the implication couldn't be clearer—he was the priceless golden rooster in the story, and the knife of the onlookers was already extended towards him.

As she closed her room door, the housekeeper pressed her hand to her chest; she could feel her heart still pounding.

I went to the washroom and splashed water on my face to calm myself down.

Revealing crucial information to a monitor without authorization is tantamount to betrayal within the secret police. By handing the sketchbook to that guy today, she had already placed herself on the opposite side of Miss Anna.

"I must have gone mad," Lyudmila said, looking at herself in the mirror.

Taking a deep breath, the housekeeper returned to her writing desk, where the account books for the past period were laid out, along with her own annotations.

"The weather is going to get colder soon, so we need to stock up on some fuel in advance."

"My little angel has been a bit listless lately, would it be better to make some goat milk?"

"The amount of dried meat used is excessive again, even though you clearly stated it!"

As the housekeeper looked at the account book in front of her, a gentle expression gradually appeared on her face—a look she had never shown during the cold training sessions.

When did she start to like this kind of life? The secret policewoman herself couldn't say.

Maybe it was that night when we fought off the mob together?
When the little angel was just born?
Was it when that person looked into her eyes and called her Liu Da?

"I can't think of anything," Lyudmila shook her head self-deprecatingly and muttered to herself.

"You better not die, run!"

As dawn broke, the housekeeper got up early and began to inspect the entire house.

"Where is Father Pugin? Hasn't he gotten up yet?" she asked the maid beside her, seemingly casually.

"Father Pugin went out early this morning, I don't know where he went, he hasn't come back yet," the maid said softly, bowing her head.

"Okay, you can go ahead and do your work, it's alright." Lyudmila nodded calmly, then opened the window and looked out at the street.

It seems he understood the hint in that picture book. I just wonder how far he can go in such a hurry. The west is in chaos right now, and I forgot to prepare money for him. Maybe going through Romania would be safer...

As for the east... the east...

? ? ? ! ! !
The housekeeper looked towards the street to the east and saw a familiar figure pushing a trolley toward her.

"Liu Da, send down a few people to help carry things!" The priest in black robes stopped the handcart at the door and greeted the housekeeper at the window, his manner as natural as a clerk's husband showing off his day's earnings to his wife.

The housekeeper, wearing flat shoes, ran downstairs with a clattering sound.

"Why are you back! Didn't I give you yesterday..." The housekeeper was agitated and reached out to grab the man's collar, only to find that he was looking at her with calm eyes.

“I know, I know,” the priest in the black robe patted the housekeeper on the shoulder, then whispered in her ear.

"Thank you, Liu Da. Leave the rest to me."

A strange sense of security rose in the housekeeper's heart, for no apparent reason.

When people got out to help lift the things off the truck, they discovered that they were bags of flour.

“Father, there’s too much flour. We probably won’t be able to finish it all winter, and the quality isn’t very good either. It’s not suitable for making white bread,” the house’s cook said from the side.

"This isn't for us to eat ourselves, just help carry it inside." The priest in black robes directed the group to carry the bags of flour inside.

"Could there be a famine this time?" The housekeeper still vividly remembered the coal hoarding incident.

"Food prices will rise, but it's not to the point of famine. These things have other uses. Just do as I say," the black-robed man instructed.
-
The next day, the Winter Palace
Empress Alexandra waited anxiously in her bedchamber that morning for the arrival of her "Father Putin." It's human nature to be unwilling to give up what's already in hand, and the order to requisition supplies from the nobility met with strong opposition. Faced with this resistance, the Empress herself was not a Catherine-like woman.

Faced with the overwhelming wave of opposition, Alexandre was clearly flustered, especially since his trusted "Father Putin" was not by his side.

"Your Majesty, please rest for a while. I will have the priest see you as soon as he arrives." The head maid led a group of people over.

"But Anna, I'm so confused right now. I don't know if I did the right thing."

"Your Majesty, you need to calm down. You are not in a good condition to deal with the situation right now," the head maid reassured her close friend, and instructed a maid to escort the Empress back to her resting room.

After the Empress left, the head maid looked around and went into a secluded room, where a person dressed as a low-ranking official was already waiting.

"The voices of resistance are very loud?"

“Yes, Miss Anna, several high-ranking nobles, including Prince Yusupov, have publicly expressed their opposition. They even said…”

"say what?"

"They even said that Her Majesty the Empress was a spy sent by the Germans, which is why she gave such an order..." After saying this, the person opposite him lowered his head deeply.

"Hmm..." The head maid tapped the tip of her nose with her slender index finger, a small gesture she made when she was thinking.

"His Majesty's order is not problematic. Since there's no way to conjure resources out of thin air, noble donations are the only quick and effective method. However, the backlash cannot be ignored..."

The next second, the head maid looked up at the people in front of her and said, "His Majesty's orders must still be carried out, but you must mention [casually] that this was all Father Putin's advice to His Majesty, understand?"

The official in front of him pondered for a moment, then a knowing look appeared on his face. "Yes, I understand. I will handle things properly."

When her subordinates left and only the head maid remained in the room, she opened her palms as if observing something, or perhaps pondering something.

"There's no other way. Nobles always need an outlet for their emotions. Since His Majesty can't be the one to block it, then I'll just have to trouble you."

"Actually, it's not like I'm wronging you. This was originally your idea, wasn't it?" The head maid looked at her palm and murmured to herself.

Then, as if remembering something, she summoned another servant.

"Go ask Lyuda what Father Putin is doing at home now."

“Miss Anna, that lady from before sent a message. They said they were making Holy Communion.”

"what?"
-
Bags of flour were poured into a large basin, and someone added water to it.

Without yeast or salt, Qin Hao kneaded the flour into small balls by hand. Although it was the simplest method, it was still a high-intensity task.

Ordinary people are not qualified to participate in the making of the Holy Communion. Even simple actions like kneading and flattening the bread must be done by the priest himself.

Qin Hao repeated the same actions almost all day long.

"This is probably what it feels like to tighten screws on an assembly line." Qin Hao chuckled self-deprecatingly as he watched the maids stuff the dough pieces into the oven one by one—his hands were already too sore to lift.

Seeing that everyone else's attention was on the oven, the housekeeper sidled up to the priest in black and whispered in his ear, "What exactly do you want? Didn't you understand what I gave you yesterday?"

“I understand, Liuda, I will leave, but not now.” The priest in black robes did not directly answer the housekeeper’s opinion.

The fire in the stove began to burn brightly.

The next morning, many citizens were surprised to find that Father Pugin, dressed in a black robe, was once again pushing a cart through the streets, distributing communion to every household.

Father Putin enjoys high prestige among the local people due to his previous acts of protecting citizens and distributing coal during the riots.

Many people use the title "our priest" to distinguish themselves from others.

Citizens who had received the favor would come out to greet them, and families with sick members would even invite a priest to pray for them.

People devoutly accepted the holy bread and carefully put it away. Some people took out banknotes to offer money, but were stopped by the priest.

He made a somewhat strange request: believers who wished to show their piety could exchange a small piece of linen for the holy bread in his hands.

(End of this chapter)