Chapter 51
At the time Wen Xin’s whereabouts were sensed through the statue, Xiao Qi the fox was fast asleep.
It awoke suddenly, confused, and rushed towards the scene, forgetting whether it had instructed the cult followers to wipe away any traces of its identity.
When Wen Xin mentioned it, worry immediately showed on its face.
The next moment, Wen Xin’s hand reached out.
Compared to before, his hand had changed. The soft flesh was now firm, with a lean and elegant contour. Thin calluses covered the sides and pads of his fingers, likely from handling firearms.
But when that hand rubbed Xiao Qi’s furry head, it was as gentle as ever.
The fox’s pointed ears flattened comfortably as it lifted its head to nuzzle into Wen Xin’s palm.
Wen Xin stroked it a few more times, gazing at the painting on the wall with a thoughtful look. “Younger than I expected,” he murmured.
The painting depicted a middle-aged figure, around forty, against the backdrop of a descending sunset. The darkening sky loomed over a city in ruins, with zombies rampaging in the background.
With his back to the monsters, the man leaned against a crumbling wall, holding a worn Bible against his chest with his left hand in a weary posture.
His right hand hung low, as if reaching out to touch the small fox that gazed up at him.
The painting’s colors and brushstrokes revealed the artist’s meticulous care. The middle-aged man occupied half of the canvas, yet his body was mostly enveloped in the shadows cast by the wall.
The fox, though small, was bathed in the glow of the sunset, appearing almost sacred.
Art lovers or those with a keen sense of color would notice that the painting’s focal point was the fox. But for most people, the attention naturally went to the man due to his prominent presence.
Below the painting was a title in golden letters:
“The Pope”
It seemed that upon seeing these words, Wen Xin had made his previous comment.
Xiao Qi let out a silent sigh of relief.
The cardinal in the red robe also relaxed. When Wen Xin had said “The Pope” aloud, his tone was calm, without question, as if he had already recognized the Pope.
It was a relief that this painting was chosen.
The cardinal let out a sigh, feeling a bit silly for being so tense. Even though their acting might have been slightly off and the plan hastily put together, was it so hard for the Pope to manipulate people’s thoughts?
The fact that Wen Xin was unaware was proof of the Pope’s powers at work.
But to prevent further mishaps, the cardinal gave a discreet signal to a follower behind him.
The follower understood, and quickly gathered a few people to remove the other murals in the next room.
The cardinal turned back to see Wen Xin still staring at the painting, seemingly intrigued. He smiled and said, “Yes, that is our great Pope.”
With Xiao Qi included in the painting, the cardinal introduced it with no hesitation.
Upon hearing this, Wen Xin studied the middle-aged man in the painting more closely.
He had short black hair, wore simple clothing, and had a rather ordinary face that seemed burdened with worry.
The fox, which had been moving around under Wen Xin’s hand, suddenly fell silent.
Wen Xin glanced down and saw the little fox staring at the man in the painting, a hint of sadness or melancholy in its eyes.
“What kind of person is he?” Wen Xin asked.
The cardinal didn’t know much about the man in the painting, as he had passed away shortly after the cardinal met him and the fox.
The man hadn’t died from a zombie attack or an accident, but because he could no longer wait for the one he longed for, he had taken his own life by jumping from a building.
Of course, the cardinal would never reveal this.
Interpreting Wen Xin’s question as inquiring about the current Pope, the cardinal spoke carefully.
“The Pope is someone beyond our judgment.”
Wen Xin wasn’t surprised by the cardinal’s reverent response.
“Then, would it be possible for me to meet the Pope? I would like to thank him in person for taking care of our Xiao Qi during this time.”
The cardinal hesitated and looked at the fox.
He thought it would be best to avoid a meeting. But ultimately, it was up to the Pope.
Xiao Qi didn’t give a clear response. It quietly nestled closer to Wen Xin’s chest, like a child seeking comfort.
Sensing Xiao Qi’s unease, Wen Xin instinctively hugged it tighter, reassuring it softly, “Don’t worry. I’m here.”
And with that, the meeting request was dropped.
The cardinal arranged for Wen Xin to stay in the residential area within the church.
The room was well-furnished, equipped with solar-charged heaters, a shelf full of books, a writing desk with paper and pens, a private bathroom, and fresh linens.
This setup would have been considered comfortable even before the apocalypse.
Aside from the extra guards outside, there were no apparent issues.
Wen Xin discreetly observed the guards’ shift schedule.
As one shift ended, the next was already in place, ensuring no gaps in coverage.
He casually joked with one of the followers serving him.
“It’s a bit much, isn’t it? All this manpower for just one person?”
The follower seemed momentarily taken aback but quickly explained, “Not at all, Mr. Wen. Our security is always tight, not just for you.”
He added, “If you’d like to go anywhere, just let us know, and one of us will escort you so you won’t be stopped.”
Wen Xin nodded, pretending to understand. “I see.”
He then brought up another matter.
“I have a friend whose parents live in City B. He probably moved here a few months ago. Could you help me find him?”
Wen Xin described Tang Qi briefly, and the follower nodded.
“We’ll let you know as soon as we have any information on him.”
The cardinal hadn’t left yet and had been quietly observing Wen Xin’s reaction.
Seeing that Wen Xin was calm about the living arrangements, he finally relaxed.
Once everyone left, only Wen Xin and Xiao Qi remained in the room.
Wen Xin placed Xiao Qi on a stool, lifted his blanket, and pressed his palm against it, checking for something.
Xiao Qi looked on in confusion.
“Yip?”
What are you doing, Wen Xin?
Though they had been separated for a while, Wen Xin still understood the fox’s sounds well enough.
“I’m checking for bugs,” he replied.
Xiao Qi tilted its head, understanding. It had seen characters in cartoons using bugs to spy on villains, despite knowing it wasn’t a good thing to do.
It opened its mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, fearing Wen Xin might notice something amiss.
In fact, Xiao Qi wanted to say: Don’t worry, Wen Xin. I would never do anything to harm you.
It hugged its bushy tail, reassuring itself: Keeping my identity hidden doesn’t count.
Searching for bugs was a habit Wen Xin picked up from training camp. Although devices like these were rare now, his instructor’s advice had stuck with him.
After confirming the room was clear, Wen Xin moved to the window.
Watching the numerous guards, a thoughtful look crossed his face.
On his way here, he had carefully observed the guards’ positions.
At the church entrance, there were five guards on each side.
Along the path to the residential area, there were two guards at each checkpoint.
Once inside the residential area, guards became more numerous, with three stationed at each point, plus one patrolling.
This could mean only one thing.
The closer he got to the heart of the church, the higher the security.
Near his current room, guards were stationed so densely that a thief would probably have a heart attack just looking at it.
A follower had insisted this level of security was standard.
So, who deserves this level of protection?
Wen Xin shifted his gaze to the little fox, who looked back at him with its furry ears twitching.
“Yip?”
What’s wrong?
Wen Xin sighed slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips.
He walked over, and before he could reach it, the fox leaped eagerly into his arms.
Wen Xin caught it, feeling its warm tail brush across his face. The familiar sensation was comforting.
For some reason, every time he held Xiao Qi, he never felt the weight.
Holding it close, feeling its head nuzzle into him, he found the strength to face the world’s hardships once again.
“I was just thinking about what you’ve been through, Xiao Qi.”
He scratched under its chin, asking softly, “Were you bullied? Did you have any unhappy moments?”
As Wen Xin’s gentle questions continued, the little fox’s body tensed.
It lifted its head, eyes growing misty, but quickly looked away, shaking its head.
Wen Xin smiled softly. “No? That’s good.”
The journey had been tiring, and the hour was late. After playing with Xiao Qi for a while, Wen Xin prepared to wash up and head to bed.
As soon as his head touched the pillow, drowsiness washed over him like a tidal wave.
Wen Xin’s eyelids fluttered, fighting the heaviness.
He was always cautious of sudden drowsiness, especially after a previous attack involving sleep incense. He reflexively frowned in resistance.
But then he saw the little fox peeking out from under the covers.
Xiao Qi looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, its soft ears pressed down, looking adorable.
“Yip?”
Why aren’t you sleeping?
Wen Xin sighed internally.
The next moment, the Pope’s spell enveloped Wen Xin’s consciousness, drawing him carefully into a dream.
In the dream.
Wen Xin’s mind was clear, without discomfort. He opened his eyes slowly.
He blinked, surprised to see the person standing before him.
The middle-aged man cleared his throat. “I am the Pope of the Wei Xin Cult. I heard you wanted to see me?”
They were in a peaceful courtyard, surrounded by flowers and greenery, with a stream flowing under a small bridge and occasional bird calls.
Wen Xin hadn’t expected the man from the painting to appear before him.
Directly staring was impolite.
After a brief pause, Wen Xin performed the formal greeting he learned from the cardinal. “Yes, Your Holiness.”
The man waved dismissively. “There’s no need for formalities.”
“…”
The man’s words seemed oddly familiar, and Wen Xin couldn’t help but look up.
The man coughed awkwardly. “What I mean is, you seem familiar to me. I feel as if we’ve met before, so let’s dispense with formalities.”
Wen Xin’s lips twitched.
Hadn’t they said evolving to a complete form would make Xiao Qi more mature?
Why did it seem like the fox hadn’t changed at all?
He looked at the person in front of him—the one who still believed his identity was hidden.
Before Xiao Qi could avoid his gaze, Wen Xin’s eyes curved in a small smile. “Alright, then I won’t be formal.”
He sat down on the stone bench without hesitation.
Xiao Qi blinked, surprised that Wen Xin hadn’t hesitated. It glanced at him curiously.
Slowly, it sat across from him. “The way you act doesn’t make you seem like a guest—it makes you seem like the host.”
Wen Xin responded without missing a beat. “Since you said you felt familiar with me, Your Holiness, wouldn’t it be wrong to act otherwise?”
Xiao Qi’s eyes widened. “True.”
After that, silence fell between them.
Xiao Qi fiddled with the cup on the table, unsure of what to say.
Unexpectedly, Wen Xin, usually quiet, broke the silence.
“How have you been, Your Holiness?”
Xiao Qi paused, looking at him suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”
Wen Xin replied smoothly, “Because I feel the same way—you seem familiar to me, and I’d like to be friends.”
Hearing this, Xiao Qi’s eyes sparkled, barely able to hide the excitement.
Wen Xin almost thought the fox would transform into a bundle and pounce on him.
Thankfully, Xiao Qi seemed to remember its status as the Pope, nodding with feigned composure. “Being friends with me? Good choice.”
Wen Xin smiled, agreeing. “Yes, I think so too.”
“And as friends, we should know more about each other.”
He added, “Of course, I won’t just have you share. If you want, I can tell you about how I’ve been lately.”
A few simple words made Xiao Qi surrender.
But as it opened its mouth, it faltered, and then, like a nervous ostrich, buried its head again.
“I don’t know where to start.”
It had brought Wen Xin into the dream for a reason, to share what it had to say.
But now, words failed it.
Wen Xin remembered something.
“Today, I saw a painting in the church called ‘The Pope.’ You looked sad in it.”
He asked, “Would you mind telling me what you were thinking at that time?”
Xiao Qi’s face drooped, eyes turning melancholic.
Seeing this, Wen Xin quickly added, “If it’s hard to talk about, forget it. It’s okay.”
“…There’s nothing I can’t tell.”
It lowered its gaze. “I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this.”
Wen Xin leaned forward. “Go ahead. I’m here.”
Replaying the scene would have been easy in a dream, but that risked giving too much away.
So Xiao Qi chose to speak instead.
“The painting is beautified. Bishop Shi said if we showed the real scene, it would be too bloody for the church.”
Xiao Qi continued, “But there was so much blood. It was everywhere.”
“Was someone hurt?” Wen Xin asked gently.
The fox nodded. “And they couldn’t be saved.”
It seemed lost in that memory, trembling slightly as it clutched its cup.
A warm, slender hand reached out and stroked its head, comforting it silently.
Xiao Qi looked up, meeting Wen Xin’s compassionate gaze.
His voice was steady and kind, just like before.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
I know it is not serious here in the story but omg I’m so not okay with any kind of deception.