Chapter 111-The Manga Pariah's Guide to Self-Salvation
The journal was dated Year 501 of the Divine Descent, forty years ago. From the man's tone, his public role was West District overseer, but secretly, he managed the Hope Project.
Not only that—he was the husband of the head nun Annabella from just now.
The current West District overseer was Yuan Xianming, Zhou Yun's husband, and according to Kiran's description, Yuan Xianming had died suddenly of an illness en route to his office a month ago. But Ye Zheng suspected he was deeply entangled with the Hope Project too.
From Kiran and Annabella's tones, the project had existed for a long time. Ye Zheng had a bold idea: perhaps every West District overseer bore this "mission."
"This is something else."
Ye Zheng murmured, cradling the journal.
It meant the royal family and the Curia had been nurturing this project together for centuries!
The tidy room seemed to fill in that instant with countless shrill, wailing ghosts. Ye Zheng steadied her mind and continued flipping through the journal.
[Year 501 of the Divine Descent, October 4
Thank the heavens! Annabella's pregnant. She has no mind to probe my work anymore. Of course, even better—I'm going to be a father!
I meant this book to be my work log, but I'm really not a workaholic; it's all personal matters. What a shame.
Since that's the case, let's make it a diary.]
[Year 501 of the Divine Descent, November 28
Annabella's belly is starting to show. This feeling is wondrous; I've always looked forward to my child. Every time I touch her stomach, a profound happiness wells up in me.
But occasionally, a chill shadow creeps in behind the bliss.]
[Year 501 of the Divine Descent, December 27
The base lost two holy vessels today, and two precious dragon bone fragments were scrapped. What a failure of a day.
The only consolation: Annabella took my hand and said we'd be great parents. Gazing into her gentle eyes, the shadow in my heart faded.
...
Ah, but after writing today's entry and looking up at the tiny hopes in the jars, that unease enveloped me again.]
[Year 502 of the Divine Descent, January 26
Fought with Annabella today. I know pregnancy's tough on her, but am I not suffering too? Why can't she understand and cut me some slack? Why nitpick over little things?
Damn it—God knows how much pressure I feel seeing her and that ****'s belly?
No, no, I shouldn't describe it that way. That's practically a curse!
...Aah, I'm starting to lose it. How could this be a curse? It's endless hope! Annabella, me, and our soon-to-be child—we just lack that blessing.
I need to communicate properly with her. No need for a couple to fight over trifles. I'm always away from Annabella—that's my fault; I shouldn't blame her for knowing nothing.]
[Year 502 of the Divine Descent, February 1
A rare holiday. Annabella and I discussed names: Lilian for a girl, meaning the purest lily flower bestowed by the divine; Matthew for a boy, a gift from the gods.]
[Year 502 of the Divine Descent, February 17
God of Hope above, why was Annabella there!
Damn it all! I pray everything turns out safe!]
Ye Zheng's fingertip paused. It seemed Annabella had discovered the Hope Project's existence that day.
[Year 502 of the Divine Descent, February 25
I hear she's in constant dread. I haven't gone back—I'm afraid of seeing hatred in her eyes.
Even though my conscience is clear.]
The last line's handwriting wavered. Clearly, this man wasn't as guiltless as he claimed.
She flipped onward, only to find several blank pages in a row. Unwilling to give up, Ye Zheng kept going, finally spotting crooked scrawl on the journal's last page—unlike the neat script before, as if the writer's hand shook too badly to hold the pen.
[Year 502 of the Divine Descent, June 1
Stillborn.]
A pair of clear dark eyes lingered on the brittle page for a moment before the youth gently closed the journal. She rose from her chair.
Forty years ago: Annabella and her overseer husband. Now: Zhou Yun and Yuan Xianming. The trajectories of these two couples overlapped in eerie ways.
The man in charge of the Hope Project, the woman who glimpsed a corner of it, and the dead child.
Annabella had become head nun, meaning either she'd divorced or her husband was gone.
Ye Zheng recalled Annabella's exchange with Priest Yowen just now. This West District overseer from forty years back was likely no more. For some reason, Annabella had become one of the base's leaders, managing it alongside the new overseer.
Ye Zheng walked to the window and pulled back a corner of the curtain, gazing at the white-robed men below hurrying with weapons in all directions. From their attire, some were knights, others priests. Aside from the head nun and herself, there were no other women in this base.
...No— she'd just seen one. A woman whose upper body connected to a massive monster form, isolated outside the transparent barrier, her shrieks like a death knell for slaughter or a dirge for the homeless.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Unconcealed footsteps approached the door, halting neatly outside.
"My apologies, Saintess, but the situation is dire. Staying inside is your best option."
"Once it's over, we'll escort you out."
The raspy, weary voice came from beyond the door. Annabella had stationed a team to guard her.
Ye Zheng stared at the shut door, arms crossed, silent for the moment.
The aged nun stood outside for a bit. No sound came from within—perhaps the young saintess was angry and ignoring her. Annabella understood, but this was the only way to protect her. Even if the little saintess resented her, she had to do it.
The old woman turned silently to leave when a gentle voice emerged from inside, devoid of any anger.
"Lady Annabella, I'm just here looking for my friend. Her name's Lucy, with orange hair like the sun. Is she one of your children too?"
"I haven't heard that name. There are no orange-haired girls here."
The elder halted her departure, replying indifferently.
"Alright then. Is there a girl named—Lilian here?"
Ye Zheng leaned against the closed door, her tone carrying innocent curiosity, a sly glint flashing in her pitch-black pupils.
Urgent footsteps sounded outside. As if anticipating it, Ye Zheng stepped back two paces. The door flew open, and the old woman, teeth gritted in a tremor, fixed her dull gray eyes on her.
"Now, can we have a proper talk?"
Ye Zheng gently took the old woman's arm. Under the bewildered gazes of the knights outside, she smiled and nodded politely at them all, ushering Annabella into the room before shutting the door firmly with a click—leaving the knights exchanging baffled looks.
She led Annabella to the room's deepest corner, ensuring no one could overhear.
At this moment, Annabella had lost all kindly elder poise. She stared at Ye Zheng like she was some terrifying entity, yanking back her arm from the girl's grasp and shaking her head nonstop. "God of Hope above, are you really the Saintess? You're clearly a girl like the devil..."
Ye Zheng laughed, but her dark eyes held no mirth. "Compared to everything done here, I'm kind as an angel."
"Why do you know about Lilian? What exactly do you want?"
Annabella's aged voice rasped almost inaudibly, her cloudy glass-bead eyes refracting faint glimmers of tears.
Ye Zheng's brow arched imperceptibly. She'd merely posed a binary choice quiz. The journal mentioned a boy name and a girl name they'd planned, but it ended in a stillbirth.
The journal didn't name the unfortunate child, but Ye Zheng had guessed the odds favored a girl based on Annabella's leanings.
Annabella was nearly unhinged, the conversation's rhythm slipping back into Ye Zheng's control. Though she hated to keep stabbing at an old woman's deepest scar, she had no choice.
"Annabella, forty years ago, your husband came here to perpetuate what they call the great 'hope.'"
"But that's not why you became head nun."
"You did it for Lilian, didn't you? The girl who never opened her eyes to this world before dying early. The doctor said the stillbirth was an accident, but you knew it wasn't—no, it was retribution!"
"In your sixth month, you witnessed those modified women, those pregnant with monstrosities. From then on, you couldn't numb yourself into a carefree expectant mother anymore. But you could do nothing—torn by fear and pain, waking screaming from nightmares, yet pretending all was well as you awaited the birth—"
"Enough!"
Annabella screeched hysterically, her tears spilling before her harsh words.
"Not enough—not nearly. Even if you treat every woman in this base like your lost Lilian, pouring on the care, your guilt doesn't lessen a bit. Because you know full well—you're an accomplice, not their mother!"
The girl's deliberately raised voice echoed in the small room like a clinging curse. The aged nun nearly buckled, gasping in heart-palpitating bursts, eyes glazing over.
Ye Zheng swiftly supported her, patting her back with gentle force.
She heard the faint whisper from her arms: "Are you the judge sent by the divine to punish this sinner...?"
"Sinner? Lady Annabella, you're thinking too highly of yourself. At least ahead of you are countless men whose crimes deserve of death."
Annabella shook her head against the young girl's arm, her enfeebled rasp murmuring, "I'm too old now; I can't tell sin from grand deeds anymore. If the Hope Project births true saviors for the empire, they'll be eternal heroes..."
"A savior born on the suffering of countless loses the right to call themselves one the moment they're born."
Ye Zheng said flatly.
"This base has already produced two children whose abilities strikingly resemble the divine. The experiment's success is near..."
"Percy and Sykes?"
Annabella gave her a silent glance.
Ye Zheng held the limp old nun with one arm, the other stroking the sword at her side—that false blade symbolizing divine favor.
"If Percy and Sykes represent success, then this project really is—trash."
Ye Zheng rarely used overtly derogatory words. Everyone knew the saintess was always humble and kind, but now her face bore an unfamiliar sneer and a touch of mania.
"Otherwise, why would the Godsent be me?"
Annabella furrowed her already whitening brows, the wrinkles on her face twisting in agony, her heart seeming to quake violently.
She had excuses aplenty to numb herself: she could give them as much care as possible in this unchangeable hell, or that the children's deaths weren't meaningless—they perpetuated hope for the empire...
After a long while, the old woman painfully shut her eyes. She fished a folded paper from her bosom and shoved it into Ye Zheng's hands.
"Do what you want. The moment you raised that divine sword, this project became a laughable farce."
Annabella shuffled toward the door on slightly trembling legs. As her hand grasped the knob, the girl's voice came from behind, so soft it was nearly inaudible.
The old woman whipped around, staring in disbelief at the smiling saintess. The girl clasped her hands over her abdomen, looking elegant and demure. Annabella's mouth twitched; then she burst into laughter, wheezing to the point of breathlessness, tears welling in her dull eyes.
"You're right, child—they really are a bunch of utter trash!"
Once the door fully shut, leaving Ye Zheng alone again, she unfolded the paper Annabella had given her.
It was a clear map.
In front of Annabella just now, Ye Zheng had acted utterly at ease, as if she knew everything. But only she knew how little she truly understood the so-called Hope Project.
No matter—she'd reach the truth soon enough.
Author's Note:
Ye Zheng's second ability: Healing Words (verbal psychological healing).
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