Looking at the young sixteen-year-old girl before him, Li Qingyu asked:
"Theresa?"
The girl in the novice's clothes timidly nodded.
"You are Master Li, aren't you? The savior of my family. Glory to the Emperor, I pray for you every day to repay your kindness."
Li Qingyu waved his hand.
"It's nothing. Do you have a letter or anything for your parents?"
Sister Theresa quietly asked:
"Sir, once a month we get a day off. May I go with you to the Lower Hive on that day to see my parents?"
The request was unexpected. Li Qingyu shook his head.
"No. It's too dangerous down there. I can't guarantee your safety. If something happens to you, your parents will curse me."
"Perhaps later. If the situation changes, I will help you see them."
He spoke sincerely.
In the future, when he started supplying alcohol to the Middle Hive, he would have to go through Rudolson to get local citizenship and settle one of his people here for business. Then he could bring little Joel or his brother up here.
Sister Theresa bowed fearfully.
"Oh, forgive me, sir! My request was too bold! Forgive me!"
She trembled like a frightened sparrow. Li Qingyu indicated he wasn't angry.
The monk nearby reminded her:
"Sister Theresa, classes start in five minutes. If you're late, Mother will whip your hands again and deprive you of dinner."
Panic in the girl's eyes intensified. She hastily shoved an envelope into Li Qingyu's hand.
"Forgive me, sir, I have to run. Please give this to my parents."
"Sir, I will forever keep your mercy in my heart. Every day I will pray to the Emperor for you. And if I can, I will repay you!"
Li Qingyu saw how thin she was, how her cheeks were sunken. Life in the church was not easy for her.
He took out a pack of coupons, counted out five hundred credits, and put them in her hand. After thinking, he added a few holy crackers he carried with him.
"Sir... I... I can't accept such valuable..."
Li Qingyu didn't argue. Saying, "Study well," he turned and left the temple.
"Sir..."
Sister Theresa was touched to the depths of her soul. Looking at Li Qingyu's retreating back, she burst into tears.
"Emperor, you sent me this holy man, you saved my broken family from the abyss. Emperor, I pray, protect him."
Clutching the church amulet to her chest, she prayed silently.
"Sister, run, or you'll be late," the monk urged.
Hiding the money and crackers, Theresa rushed to the classrooms in panic.
The temple complex of the Ecclesiarchy was a massive Gothic structure. Part of it was open to citizens who came to pray.
The closed part included the library and the living quarters of the clergy.
The Ecclesiarchy in the Imperium possessed its own political and military power. Sometimes entire temple worlds existed without any other economy – only churches and monasteries as far as the eye could see.
In this hive, the church's influence was not so radical: only a few dozen large cathedrals and hundreds of parishes for the entire city.
The church where Theresa served was a district parish, ministering to tens of thousands of residents.
When little Joel was injured, the family first rushed to the "Two Snakes" clinic.
They saved the boy's life, but the debts destroyed the family.
Before the bailiffs threw them into the Lower Hive, the older brother placed his sister as a novice.
In such parishes, the requirements were not high: know how to read and be pretty.
Literacy was needed to read scripture, and beauty to attract the flock. Fortunately, Theresa possessed both.
But it was her beauty that brought trouble – the envy of the Mother Superior.
A loud slap echoed through the classroom. In front of a hundred novices, the Mother Superior struck Theresa across the face.
"You, unholy wench! There is no faith in your heart! Do you know you're late?!"
Theresa's eyes filled with tears. She wasn't late. The bell rang ten seconds after she entered. She just hadn't managed to sit down.
But she didn't argue. In these days, she understood: Mother hated her and was looking for any excuse to get rid of her.
Objections would only lead to a worse punishment. Theresa lowered her head and meekly admitted her guilt.
"It is my fault, Mother."
The old woman grabbed her hand and began to furiously whip her palms and forearms with a pointer. Blow after blow – more than a hundred times. The classroom filled with the whistling and crackling of blows.
The other nuns watched this – some with anxiety, some with malice.
The Mother didn't stop, and when Theresa's hand turned into a bloody mess, only horror remained on their faces.
The old witch put all her strength into these blows. The skin split, blood oozed.
At first, Theresa endured, biting her lips, but the pain became unbearable. She fell to her knees and sobbed:
"Mother, it's my fault! Please, stop! Don't hit me!"
Only after counting the hundredth blow did the abbess lower her hand. Sadistic pleasure shone in her eyes.
Looking at the sobbing girl at her feet, she snorted:
"Disrespect to the Emperor requires severe punishment. Out of the classroom! You will stand in the corridor. Without dinner!"
Trembling all over and cradling her hand, Theresa shuffled out the door.
Standing in the corridor to the sounds of the sermon, she let large tears fall onto the stone floor.
…During dinner, while everyone was eating, Theresa curled up on her bunk in the common dormitory. Her hand burned like fire, and hunger burned her soul.
She opened the letter from her relatives and began to read, line by line, biting into the holy cracker Li Qingyu had given her.
At that moment, the High Priest of the parish passed by the dormitory. He suddenly froze, sensing a faint but distinct aura of holiness emanating from the room.