Chapter 61: The One True Thing in This Fake World (2)

“My parents were both farmers. My father was a very typical middle-aged man. Besides farming, he would gamble, drink, and if he had enough money, he’d also visit brothels. He was lazy, cowardly, and subservient to those in power. But at home, he would take his anger out on my mother and me. My mother was a submissive, long-suffering woman. She would endure my father’s anger silently, or do housework to pass the time… This was practically a daily occurrence for them. He would yell and yell, then shut up, sitting there smoking his cheap tobacco. The foul smell would linger in the house for hours. They were used to it, but I couldn’t stand the smell. Even compared to the stench outside, that smell was disgusting… Back then, I thought it was because I was different from them. But now, looking back, it was probably because I couldn’t stand that slow, decaying feeling.”

Jose recounted impassively, slowly telling his story.

“At that time, Her Majesty was promoting compulsory education, but the empire was in ruins, and though education was important, it wasn’t a top priority. So, in that village whose name I’ve forgotten, although there was a trade union and some clerics from the Spirit Tribunal who ran a church school, the literacy rate wasn’t high… Forgive me for being blunt, but they weren’t good at teaching children, and they didn’t like teaching others how to read and write. Only the village chief’s children attended their classes every day.

“There were factories back then, and child labor, but as I said before, the village was too remote. Although it was near the river, it wasn’t easily accessible, so no one came to build factories. Because of this, I enjoyed a relatively carefree childhood. I’d run around the village with my friends, playing childish games, or go to the river or the small mountain near the village to ‘explore,’ looking for non-existent treasures. That could take up our entire day.”

Jose unconsciously leaned forward, his hands clasped together, rubbing the calluses on his fingers.

“When we were older, we also had to help our families with work… At that time, magical machinery wasn’t as common as it is now. At least, in the village, everyone wore rough, homespun clothes. So I learned to spin and weave with my mother.

“Perhaps I inherited some of my mother’s personality, because I didn’t mind that kind of tedious work. I could even find some joy in it—the joy of fruits of my labor, the joy of mastering a skill. Back then, just thinking that someone would wear the clothes I made myself gave me a small sense of satisfaction…”

“You’re a very kind person,” Louise sighed softly, feeling even more suspicious, “When did you decide to become a painter?”

Jose touched his face awkwardly.

“I liked reading. And though I worked with my mother, which took up half the day, I’m actually… not that good at being idle… I learned how to read from my father. There weren’t any newspapers back then. If something happened in the village, it was announced verbally or posted on a notice board. But most people couldn’t read, so they had to pay the guards to read it out loud to them.

“My father, to save money, and also to know the information beforehand, went to the church school for a while. The clerics would give out some food after their lessons, and to get more, he would always take me along.”

“Though he had a purpose, my father didn’t last very long. After a week or two, he stopped going. He made all kinds of excuses, but it was because he was lazy. He didn’t want to walk the extra distance at night. He didn’t want to use his brain.

“So, I only learned a few words. But that week or two was enough to spark my interest in books and reading, but books were expensive back then, and we didn’t have much money, so I had no choice but to go to the church every day and read the words carved on the walls and statues… Gradually, I developed a love of reading.

“A desire to read, to see words, even if I’d already seen them a hundred, a thousand times. There was no specific purpose. Reading itself was the goal. It brought me joy, and it relaxed my mind.”

Richter felt a connection. He also had a love of reading, always carrying a book with him… But unlike Jose in his youth, he didn’t have to worry about money, and he could always find something new to read.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

But it was a little strange. He’d never seen this side of Jose in reality… Was he lying, or did he somehow outgrow this obsession?

“I quickly couldn’t stand it anymore. The clerics didn’t mind me reading, but those few words weren’t enough to satisfy my growing thirst for knowledge. The church didn’t have any books besides the scriptures, and they wouldn’t let me read those. Even the kindest nuns would frown if I asked…”

Louise said thoughtfully,

“They were right to do that. It was for your own good. After all, though the scriptures themselves are harmless, children are easily influenced by them, and their way of thinking could be subtly altered.”

Jose nodded, indicating that he understood.

“I was a little resentful at the time, but not anymore… After realizing that I couldn’t find what I needed at the church, the village chief’s son helped me. I don’t really remember his name.

“His family bought him many books, hoping he could go to the city to study and become an official. But he didn’t like to read. He wanted to become a cleric. After he learned about my situation, he generously offered to let me borrow his books, but I couldn’t take them out of his house… It wasn’t an unreasonable request, so I agreed.

“So, every day after lunch, I would run to his house and stay in his study until dusk… I didn’t recognize many of the words, so it was very difficult to read, but I wasn’t in a hurry. I’d memorize the unfamiliar words, then ask someone about them, and read them again the next time.”

“But then, one time, while I was reading 《The Knight and the Flower Sea》, I came across a passage with many unfamiliar words. I really wanted to know what it said. The itching, restless feeling was incredibly frustrating. So I took the book to the village chief’s son, who was having dinner, and asked him what it meant…”

“The classic passage in 《The Knight and the Flower Sea》…” Louise thought for a moment, then suddenly understood, “It’s the part where the main character, after overcoming three obstacles, five setbacks, and seven trials, finally falls asleep peacefully in the sea of flowers in the center of the world.”

Jose confirmed her guess, a gentle smile appearing on his face. He seemed lost in the memory.

“He was also a lazy student. He didn’t recognize those words. But he had heard others talk about the book, so he still had some impression of it.”

“So he recounted the passage himself?” Richter guessed.

“No,” Jose shook his head, “He flipped to the end of the book, pointed to the picture, and told me that that long passage was describing this.

“I followed his finger… I saw a blooming sea of flowers. I saw silver blossoms covering the valley beneath the tower. I saw the protagonist in tattered armor. And from his posture, I could tell he was tired,” Jose said softly.

“It was a painting, a landscape painting. And as I looked at the painting, outside the book, I felt like I had entered the world within. I suddenly understood the content I couldn’t connect with because of the difficult words. The protagonist’s exhaustion, his struggles, his joy and excitement when he saw the sea of flowers, and then, his relief as he finally stumbled into the sea of flowers and fell asleep.”

Jose paused for a moment.

“It was as if that moment was taken from time itself and placed before me.”

“…That’s a work of fiction,” Selene said.

“Indeed. But that’s what I thought back then, and I still think so now. That’s why, after coming of age, I chose the path of the ‘Painter,’” Jose said, his voice calm and firm. “I embarked on this path to preserve, to record, to capture the beauty I see.”

To record and preserve… Louise frowned, saying nothing more.

Her concept was closer to the God of Beauty and Art, the “Twin Mirror Butterflies,” pursuing pure beauty, an appreciation of beauty that transcended race.

She didn’t really understand Jose’s concept, but she respected it.

The four fell into a brief silence.

Before Jose could calm himself, Richter suddenly asked,

“Brother, where’s your hometown? We might be going there later.”

Jose didn’t answer immediately.

He looked up at the night sky, at the stars shining brightly, at the curtain-like darkness, and remained silent for a long time.

Just as the other three thought he wasn’t going to answer and were about to change the subject, his voice came,

“Twenty-eight years ago, Mittal wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t peaceful until twenty years ago. There were still some nobles and knights who refused to obey the orders of the Frost Silver Palace. Some were originally against Her Majesty. They never thought much of her as an illegitimate child. Some had supported Her Majesty, but hadn’t expected her to be so ruthless, confiscating their properties and revoking their titles…”

Jose quietly continued.

“They didn’t dare to openly oppose Her Majesty, but they were ruthless towards those who were loyal to Her Majesty but who weren’t strong or who refused to cooperate with them. For example, sending people to block the roads, or hiring mages to create some ‘accidents’ in the country or in the mountains.”

Jose said softly,

“The villagers there weren’t educated and didn’t know much. They were only grateful to Empress Orantes, who, after ascending to power, allowed them to have enough to eat. And then they ran into a few down-and-out nobles… they were all killed.”