Silent Crown

by Feng Yue

  “There’s no need to rush.” Abraham looked at his watch. “There’s still one more hour. There’s no need to be here so early.”

  “It’s better to be prepared!” Charles pointed his chin at a figure in the crowd. “Look at Ingmar, he’s dressed up like a butterfly. Ah, seeing him even makes me fall in love.”

  He had proudly used an Eastern idiom, instantly making Ye Qingxuan’s features twist. The other half of the idiom was “let alone that old guy!” Idioms could not be used so carelessly.

  But Charles’s description was amazingly accurate. In the crowd, Ingmar wore a musician’s formalwear and a pure white coat. There were medals on his chest and his sleeves were lined with gold. His long salt-and-pepper hair was tied back, his eyes were deep like a starry sky, and a polite smile was on his face. He was the perfect example of a musician.

  On the other hand, Abraham wore the same coat he had for the past few decades, and Charles was dressed slovenly (because he did not have anything else). Only Ye Qingxuan was slightly formal, which was not very formal.

  “I feel like we’ve lost on looks.” Charles instantly grew dejected.

  Ingmar easily made small-talk with all the scholars in the crowd. He talked about life, made jokes, and caused many smiles. The appraisal was coming but he was still charismatic.

  As if on accident, he saw Abraham in the corner and his lips curled into the slightest sneer as he walked over.

  “Hey, Yezi, he’s coming.”

  Charles grew excited but Ye Qingxuan just looked and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “I’m nervous, what should we do?” Charles asked quietly. “What’s he coming over for? Is he going to talk trash again? What should I do?”

  “He can’t beat you in talking trash so what are you scared of?” Ye Qingxuan thought to himself.

  Beside him, Abraham thought for a moment and suddenly slapped his knee, concluding, “If you don’t know what to do, why not just hit him?”

  242 A Lot Behind This

  “If you don’t know what to do, why not just hit him?”

  “Huh?!” Ye Qingxuan was stunned. He had always thought that Charles’ ability to talk nonsense was amazing, but he had never imagined it was inherited from their professor! And Abraham truly was incredible—how did he suddenly come to this weird conclusion?

  “Professor, no!” Ye Qingxuan almost jumped up in fright. “If you fight here, you’ll probably lose the appraisal!”

  “Uh, I’m confused again. Isn’t that the rule?” Abraham said awkwardly. “In the military, if you bring it to the military court and threaten someone in their face, it’s normal to fight back, isn’t it?”

  “No, no, no, it’s not normal at all! And what military did you come from? It’s so wild…” Ye Qingxuan thought.

  “Then why don’t I do it?” Charles jumped up to add to the mess with the expression of a lonely elite fighter. “Don’t worry, he’ll definitely lose to me for talking trash!”

  “Oh, so you do know?” A stampede of what-the-f*ck’s charged across Ye Qingxuan’s mind. The appraisal had not even started yet but he was already close to breaking down.

  Just as Charles was getting prepared, Ingmar was five steps away with a strange smile. Suddenly, the door opened. A majestic bell rang outside the Union. The sound was soul-shaking as if it rang in one’s heart, shaking all thought away. The echo resounded in one’s skull.

  “The Westminster Church…” someone murmured. “It’s nine forty in the morning so it’s not telling time. Why is it ringing?”

  The room was silent as no one replied.

  Under everyone’s gazes, a line of priests clad in black, and holding holy emblems and incense furnaces entered the Union building. They had come from the Westminster Church across the street, silent the entire way there. Plumes of incense smoke hung in the wind.

  The warm scent drove out the cold dampness and evils in the wind, warming one’s body. However, the priests’ expressions were stern and cold like a god. They stood outside the hall and did not enter.

  Amongst them, an old man with a holy crown walked out, entering the hall with his secretary. He wore a long black robe with a dark gold emblem. Silver thorns were pressed into his sleeve cuffs, seeming a bit old-fashioned and odd. But here, the old-fashioned style was incomparably solemn and dignified.

  Ingmar’s frivolous outfit was nothing but dust before this robe passed down the Church for centuries. It represented the majesty of the Church; wearing it before someone was the same as the cardinal visiting.

  “F*ck! I just invited them for the show, but I didn’t think they’d actually come…” Inside the building, Bayer wiped at his cold sweat. He hurriedly fixed his clothing and rushed down the steps to welcome the old man clad in black.

  “Look down.”

  In the silent crowd, Charles was looking around in curiosity but suddenly felt a kick from Ye Qingxuan. The oblivious Charles finally realized that, other than Bayer who represented the Musician’s Union, everyone else had lowered their head politely before the stern old man. He quickly copied them and said in code, “What’s wrong? Who is that guy…”

  “Senior, are you blind? You can tell just by his clothes.” Ye Qingxuan lowered his eyes. “Who has the right to wear that robe other than the metropolitan archbishop?”

  Who? Who else could it be!

  Ye Qingxuan had realized who was arriving the moment he heard the bell. Otherwise he would have memorized that Church rituals for nothing!

  In Anglo, only one person was qualified to wear the dark gold robe, have a bell ring when traveling, and represent the glory of the Church. That was the highest person in charge of the Anglo church and the Westminster Church—metropolitan archbishop Mephistopheles!

  After he aged, he would be in reclusion except for presiding over the prayer sessions for the start and end of the year. Ye Qingxuan did not know why he appeared now, but he undoubtedly represented God and the Church wherever he went. Everyone must bow to him.

  The holy theory stated: one must bow and not meet the eye of the God to show one’s sincere devoutness and awe.

  “Wow, this effect is awesome.” Charles continued to say in code. Peeking at the old man, his eyes were filled with gossip and he muttered, “Wow, is he really Mephistopheles? I heard that he had the chance to become a cardinal! Apparently he had a conflict with Knights Templar and was banished here. Ah, that must have been more than thirty years ago…”

  “Senior, watch your mouth.” Ye Qingxuan really wanted to kill him. “Don’t think that speaking in code is safe. Archbishop Mephistopheles is a highly-acclaimed musician. He’s one of the few grandmasters of the School of Choir!”

  “Oh, really? I can’t tell. There aren’t any aether ripples at all!” Charles coaxed quietly, “Yezi, don’t get nervous. He’s probably just a purely theoretical musician.”

  “…” Ye Qingxuan wanted to speak more but, to stay safe, he intelligently closed his mouth. After speaking quietly with Bayer, Archbishop Mephistopheles nodded. Without speaking more, he passed through the hall toward the conference room.

  It might have been his mind playing tricks but Ye Qingxuan felt the black robe pause slightly as it passed by him and a pair of rheumy eyes swept past him. The formless gaze was like an electric shock, making those in its path feel pricks on their skin and hair crackling.

  Soon, Archbishop Mephistopheles entered the conference room. After a long while, Ye Qingxuan slowly raised his head and let out a long breath. For some reason, things felt worse now.

  “Hope it won’t be what I’m thinking…” the youth murmured to himself.

  -

  Ten minutes later, a hurried priest avoided everyone’s eyes and entered a single meeting room. Ingmar, sitting nervously inside, instantly welcomed him with a warm and devout expression, and grasped his hand. “Father Kyle, I’m grateful you came!”

  Kyle smiled. “As members of the parliament, we should help each other out.”

  Before Ingmar was an impo
rtant figure of the Westminster Church—Kyle, assistant bishop and Archbishop Mephistophele’s personal secretary.

  It was obvious that this secret meeting before the appraisal was a sensitive subject. If a caring person saw, it would be a problem. In other words, this was not a simple meeting. Ingmar still had not recovered from the shock of seeing Archbishop Mephistopheles. He had never thought that the parliament was so powerful that even he could be influenced! The meaning behind this chilled him.

  He lowered his head politely. “It’s just a small matter. I am shaken that even Archbishop Mephistopheles was moved to come.”

  Kyle smirked. “This was unexpected for me as well. Archbishop Mephistopheles cares strongly about justice. I had just mentioned your problem to him, but I didn’t think he would come personally. Though he’s a member of the parliament, he’s actually the representative of the Church and rarely expresses his opinion. All remarks and decisions would be handed to me so you shouldn’t worry.”

  Hearing that, Ingmar let out a relieved sigh.

  “Have you prepared the details?” Kyle asked with a smile. “You should’ve received all the answers from parliament members.”

  “Yes, I’ve prepared them.” Ingmar nodded, relief flashing through his eyes. “There will be no problems.”

  The appraisal procedure was very simple. Both parties would submit resources and describe them. Then, it was the questioning and interrogation segment. It was simple, but the emptier the segment, the more it had behind it.

  Kyle said quietly, “After all members arrive, they’ll read what you submit and listen to your explanation. The most important part is the questioning. The first half will focus on your résumé and personal achievements. You will be before Abraham.”

  It seemed like simple ordering but the effect was entirely different. Ingmar’s résumé and achievements were flawless and a perfect example. No one would be able to question him on this aspect.

  In comparison to Ingmar’s example, Abraham would seem empty and insignificant. This was his biggest disadvantage—he had neither a résumé nor any achievements to speak of.

  “For the second half, the interrogation of interpretation results,” Kyle’s smile grew secretive, “Abraham will be before you.”

  Ingmar froze until it dawned on him.

  Indeed, when the appraisal council members truly began to learn of this ‘interpretation method,’ they would definitely be enraged by this unorthodox and almost satanic theory. At that time, Ingmar, representing the true orthodox academia, would arrive. He could almost see the moment Abraham would be defeated!

  Ingmar paced in excitement. Finally, he grasped Kyle’s hands with an ecstatic expression. “Thank you for your great help, Father Kyle.”

  “For some things, the result has been decided at the beginning.” Kyle smiled and patted his shoulder. “Mr. Ingmar, you have my vote, at least. You must know that I’m not the only one who received a letter from the parliament.”

  243 No Commen

  The waiter lit the silver lights. The crystal chandeliers shone above, illuminating the silent venue. No one whispered. The room was not very spacious and it was packed. Most of the people were qualified academics or curious nobles, as well as a number of newspaper reporters who came from all over the place to get first-hand news. Those men wore caps and sat in the front row with notebooks and pens. They were excited and gestured to each other, scribbling notes onto their notebooks.

  Seeing the audience, Sergey on the council grunted. After all, this was a disgrace to the academic community. No matter who was wrong, it was still a great storm if news spread. As one of the famous masters of academia, he naturally did not like tabloid presses.

  There were only five people sitting on the panel. They were Barthélémy, the ancient language scholar from Burgundy; Sergey, the researcher of ancient folklore from the Prophet’s Tower; Heisenberg, a researcher of ancient music from the Rock Institute; Mr. Hu, an oriental scholar from the Sacred City; and finally, Lola Caput, the local researcher of Anglo who studied the history of the Dark Ages.

  Whether it was status or seniority, the five people were all eligible to make a ruling on behalf of the academic community. The crown prince who represented the royal family, and Archbishop Mephistopheles, who represented the church, would be the notary public to confirm the fairness of the result.

  The bells from the distant Elizabeth Tower could be heard vaguely through the thick walls. The muffled chime of the bell formally announced the start of the appraisal. Both doors opened and representatives of both sides formally entered the venue, causing a low murmur. At last, they took seats on the left and right sides opposite the panel. They looked serious and did not communicate with each other, acting as if the other did not exist.

  But obviously, even though he had high possibility of winning, Ingmar still did not look well. Once he stepped foot inside, it would always be a stain on a scholar’s career no matter what the final outcome was.

  Abraham, who had no interest in this, remained silent and emotionless. One could not survive solely on reputation and so it was meaningless to him.

  -

  After a brief announcement, the several members spent ten minutes to finish reading the documents submitted by both sides. They also read the proceedings and antecedents handed by the Union and the school. At the end, they all frowned involuntarily in silence.

  No one spoke.

  “Who is the first?” the bald old man, Sergey, suddenly asked.

  He looked around at his companions. Barthélémy was silent, Mr. Heisenberg still had a cold face as if nothing could disturb him, and Mr. Hu from the East was in a daze. As for Lola, she just smiled and looked at him. There was everything yet nothing in her eyes, as if something was unutterable and indescribable.

  “After all these years, you’re all still so fussy,” Sergey grunted. Among the five, he had the worst temper and definitely could not stand these matters. The most annoying things to him included plagiarism and impersonation. There he was the most impatient one.

  “I’ll do this.” He picked up the briefing on the side, roughly skimmed it, and then looked up and said, “Then, the appraisal council will officially begin. First, may Mr. Ingmar come up please?”

  Ingmar stood up slowly, stood behind the speaker’s podium with a smile, and graciously greeted the committee. Unfortunately, this did not mean anything to Sergey.

  “Mr. Ingmar, next I have a few questions about your personal resume. Don’t be nervous and just answer truthfully.” Sergey paused and his expression became cold. “But bear in mind that you’d better tell no lie here. This is for your own sake.”

  “I understand, Mr. Sergey.” Ingmar nodded. His expression was neither arrogant nor too humble. He even smiled as if he did not feel any pressure at all. He had already practiced this part. He would never make any mistakes no matter what questions would be asked.

  “When did you begin to study ancient literature?”

  “Twenty-four years ago,” Ingmar replied immediately after counting. “I entered the Royal Academy of Music at that time and met my teacher there, the former mentor of the School of Revelations. From then on, my teacher guided me. Three years later, I graduated as a formal musician and have been working on related research since then.”

  “What are your main achievements?” Sergey asked routinely, though he actually knew the answer very well.

  “The highest achievements include Induction of Anglo’s Historical Legends; Exploring the Origins of Human Development from Ballads of the Dark Age; and Inquiry on the Origin of Ancient Avalon, completed with my teacher.” Ingmar paused for a moment. He glanced at Abraham subtly and replied with a smile, “And the interpretation of the Voynich Manuscript.”

  There was a sudden murmur throughout the hall. Abraham was still expressionless but the two young men besides him looked very furious. This was a real provocation!

  “If we look past the controversies, that is.” Sergey said lightly, “Ple
ase give a brief introduction about the school that you inherit, its major music theory, and its direction of interpretation.”

  “As we all know, I am a professor of the School of Revelations at the Royal Academy of Music. The school that I inherit is Ancient Anglo Revelations, also known as the Purple School. The major direction of music theory…”

  Sergey continued to ask questions from the committee seat. His questions were meticulous and harsh; he interrogated about even the smallest of flaws in Ingmar’s reply until a reasonable explanation was given. Soon, Ingmar’s back was covered with a cold sweat, despite his preparations. He felt a little exhausted.

  He could only thank himself for always being very cautions on his records. Otherwise, Sergey’s queries could possibly expose his Achilles heel.

  But below the platform, seeing Ingmar’s faint awkwardness, Ye Qingxuan did not feel any pleasure. Instead, he was worried. The problem had arrived. He sighed softly and looked at Abraham with worry. If they would delve so deeply, then Abraham’s record would probably be very problematic.

  Even a blind man could tell that there were many large blanks and ambiguous parts in his resume. It would raise doubts. Later, Abraham would face ten times more difficulties than Ingmar.

  Ye Qingxuan exhaled irritability and looked to the platform.

  The situation was very bad.

  Among the five judges, he had heard about Sergey’s temper long before. He was basically a container of dynamite—he was easily provoked. He could not get along with anyone other than in academia. He was always a lone ranger wherever he went. He was definitely the most unbiased from that point of view, and he would never bear any flaws.

  But it was worse—he was grumpy and stubborn. If his judgment led him to make the wrong choice, he would follow it to the end. No one would be able to pull him back.

  Of the rest, Ye Qingxuan was least worried about Lola. He believed that with the adultery between him and this sister…Ah, no, with the ‘mutual trust’ between them, she would still vote for him even if his enemy was the queen.