It's not only swindlers who need elaborate disguises to win hearts, but also sacred priests.
On the solemn platform of the National Assembly, in its last session before the Easter holiday, Archbishop Gibert-Guillaume-Mermet de Boze of the Paris Diocese, clad in solemn ceremonial vestments, wore a grave expression.
He stood on the main podium of the sacred National Assembly, a look of profound compassion on his face, his voice, honed by forty years of preaching, resonating with particular solemnity:
"Distinguished Members of Parliament!
While you toil here for the prosperity of the nation, the perfection of its laws, and the welfare of its people, an undercurrent from the abyss, a poisonous fog potent enough to corrode the very foundations of our national soul, is silently spreading through the heart of France – Paris!
It has even begun to flow beyond Paris, into our vast homeland!"
His voice was resonant and infectious, echoing through the assembly hall; his gaze swept across the chamber, catching the curious, grave, or uneasy expressions of the deputies.
After a slight pause, he continued to sound his grand pronouncements:
"What I speak of is not foreign invasion, nor natural disaster or famine, but a spiritual plague far more insidious, more malicious, and more destructive!
A publication titled The Decadent City – especially a certain derivative work of it – like a meticulously woven net by Satan, is spreading at an astonishing speed among citizens, and even among our young students!
I believe many honorable members present have already heard of this book!"
A stir ran through the hall.
Bishop Gibert struck the podium with deep distress, producing a dull thud:
"What does it depict?"
His voice suddenly turned sharp:
"It depicts how money tramples upon the law!
It depicts how sacred duties are shamelessly bought!
It depicts how the sanctuary of faith is defiled in an orgy of lust!
It uses flowery language to cloak the vilest bribery in a guise of legitimacy; it uses vivid details to render sacred vows utterly worthless; it uses alluring narratives to disguise a decadent lifestyle as the highest spiritual enjoyment!
Gentlemen, I ask you, when our young people idolize the protagonist in this book, who thrives by bribing clergy, scorning sacraments, and indulging in private desires, where will the scales of justice in their hearts tip?
How much reverence for the law will remain?
And what contempt will they harbor for the will of Almighty God – the cornerstone of French morality and spirit for centuries?"
Gibert sighed:
"This is no exaggeration!
As the President of the 'Paris Good Books Association,' I receive countless letters daily from worried parents, upright clergy, and responsible teachers!
They lament to me that their children, their parishioners, their students, after encountering this poisonous book, become dispirited, frivolous in speech, and lose due reverence for sacred things!
The future of France is being eroded by this silent poisonous fog!"
After sufficient groundwork of fear and anger, he finally revealed his true fangs:
"Yet, this publication actually obtained copyright registration from the 'Book and Library Administration' –
But if The Decadent City itself showed some restraint regarding its impure content; then the 'supplementary reading' derived from it is truly hellfire!
Yet, we find it difficult to trace their origins!
This warns us how fragile and powerless secular law appears in repelling such exquisitely packaged spiritual corrosion!
Even the Holy See is concerned by this.
To that end, His Holiness has dispatched Cardinal Raphaël Montelli, bringing the Holy See's edict."
An old man with white hair, wearing vestments even more ornate than Bishop Gibert's, had already arrived at the center of the podium as Gibert spoke.
Bishop Gibert quickly yielded his position to him.
Cardinal Raphaël Montelli stood tall, the golden threads on his vestments shimmering in the gaslight, as if bathed in holy light:
"Firstly, we hope that the Assembly can grant the Church, especially local parishes, greater and more proactive power in supervising book content!
For all books in schools, public libraries, public reading rooms, and rural libraries, the Church shall have the right to advise, the right to inspect, and the right to report!
We have churches spread across cities and countryside, staffed by clergy knowledgeable in doctrine and discerning of right and wrong, who are most acutely able to detect anomalies!
This is the first and most effective line of defense against such spiritual plagues!
This is not an intervention in citizens' freedom to read, but a safeguarding of the even more precious freedom of the soul!"
"Secondly, we humbly request the Assembly to consider significantly strengthening the education of doctrine and moral courses in public schools not organized by the Church!
Let our children learn to discern right from wrong and revere the sacred from a young age!
Secular knowledge is important, but without the guidance of faith and morality, knowledge will only become a tool for evil!"
"Thirdly, for those booksellers who dare to publish and disseminate such openly blasphemous, immoral, and socially harmful books, more severe penalties must be imposed! Let them know that poisoning the soul of France will come at a price they cannot bear!
And the literati who write such works must be dragged into court, to have their backsides worn raw on the prison floor!"
Many deputies in the audience began to pound on their tables and shout...
————
"Extra! Extra! The Holy See dispatches His Eminence the Cardinal to Paris, vowing to cleanse the publishing world of its cancer!"
The newspaper boy's shouts outside the window pounded on the eardrums of Gabriel Marielle, editor-in-chief of The Clamor, making his head swim.
He was holding a copy of Le Figaro, the very one the newsboy outside was hawking.
Every lead type in the report about the speeches of the two religious figures in the National Assembly felt like a red-hot needle pricking Gabriel Marielle's thick fingers.
"Gibert... you two-faced viper!"
Gabriel growled through clenched teeth, his fingers almost crushing the newspaper.
On the newspaper, Bishop Gibert's hypocritical face on the assembly podium, full of compassion and concern for the nation, and the Cardinal Raphaël Montelli from Rome whom he introduced, sent a chilling cold through Gabriel.
He had thought that the ten-thousand-franc "donation" would buy him a respite, especially since Gibert's reluctant and false expression when accepting the money was still vivid in his memory.
According to their unspoken rules of the game, His Eminence the Archbishop would, as usual, "speak well" of him before the Cardinal, pushing all blame onto "underground printing workshops" and the mysterious "honest Parisian."
Then he would hint that more "penance money" could be extracted from Gabriel to calm the situation.
But he was wrong, terribly wrong.
The three requests made by Cardinal Montelli in the Assembly, especially the first and third, were practically death warrants aimed directly at Gabriel and The Clamor!
That scoundrel Gibert not only failed to cover for him but very likely added fuel to the fire before the Cardinal!
That ten thousand francs was worse than feeding it to a dog! A dog would at least wag its tail!
However, he was merely angry, not panicked.
He had encountered such situations many times in his 30-year media career – back when The Clamor was still called The Parisian Ladies' Gazette, he was once wanted by the court for reporting on the affair of one of Emperor Napoleon III's mistresses keeping a lover.
But he merely hid in England for half a year, and after paying a fine, he returned to Paris.
The only thing that currently pained him was that The Decadent City was selling incredibly well, practically running a mint for the newspaper.
The thought of two more parts of this novel made his mouth water – even if he were to be driven out of Paris again this time, he could make a comeback with it.
After careful consideration, he took out a sheet of paper and wrote a letter urging for manuscript submission to "An Honest Parisian":
[Mr. "An Honest Parisian":
The first part of The Decadent City has sold exceptionally well, and readers are eagerly awaiting the publication of the second part.
While I deeply understand that excellent works require time to mature, the readers of Paris cannot wait, and the readers of France cannot wait.
I implore you with the utmost urgency: within the next two weeks, deliver to me your completed or nearly completed manuscript for the second part!
Even if a small portion remains unfinished, it would still be acceptable.
As a token of sincerity: the final payment for the manuscript is ready; as soon as the manuscript arrives, it will be immediately offered, without any delay!
Awaiting your good news, do not hesitate!
Your anxious collaborator G.M.]
Gabriel reread the letter, ensuring it was foolproof, before slipping it into an envelope and licking the seal with his thick tongue to close it.
He didn't care if "An Honest Parisian" would be deterred by the report in Le Figaro; he believed that with enough temptation, that impoverished literatus would surely take the risk.
As for the third part of The Decadent City – ha, let's wait until both of them have survived the current crisis.
With that thought, he bellowed:
"Pierre, you lazy ass, get in here!"
After handing over the letter, Gabriel instructed:
"This time, you continue to stake out the post office for me, follow that poor fellow, see where he goes, and who he meets."
(End of Chapter)
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