Chapter 56: High Priest Klen

Cleaning isn’t really a difficult task—the key is to assign the right people.

If you hand a broom and a rag to a group of students from noble families and have them haul buckets to scrub floors and walls, they’ll think you’re deliberately insulting them, toss you a white glove, and challenge you to a duel. But if you give the same job to students from commoner backgrounds, they’ll just find it easy.

After all, to land any job in this world, you have to start as an apprentice. Two or three years as an apprentice means fetching tea and water for your master, washing laundry and feet, before you’re finally taught any real skills. Compared to that, cleaning hardly feels like a loss of dignity—they do it at home, too.

So, the students basically had no complaints. In fact, most of them cleaned even better than Lulumiya. Eventually, Lulumiya simply slacked off, using the excuse of “supervising” to quietly observe which people worked hard and who was just loafing around.

Now, everyone had split up to clean the corridors and each of the small rooms. At first, Lulumiya had warned everyone to be gentle, afraid they’d break something, and so cleaning went slowly. But later, Klen himself said they could throw out any tables or chairs that were in the way and badly decayed. That sped things up a lot.

When the students dumped the rotten, blackened chairs onto the little plaza outside, sending up a chorus of snapping and cracking, Lulumiya couldn’t help but feel anxious, afraid that Klen—standing beside her—would be overwhelmed by memories and lose his temper, claiming the furniture had sentimental value.

Fortunately, Klen didn’t get angry. Still, his stern expression made Lulumiya extremely nervous.

With yet another table being carried out and tossed away by a group of male students, Klen finally let out a long sigh and shook his head as he watched the rising clouds of dust.

“Sigh.”

“What’s wrong, Grandpa Klen?”

“It’s nothing.” Klen, sporting a goatee and wearing his High Hat, looked at Lulumiya. “All these tables and chairs were things I used back in the day. Even though they’re no use anymore, it’s still a real shame to throw them out like this.” “Back when I was still the High Priest, this old church was so much livelier than it is now. Hard to believe that in just a few years it’s become so rundown, with no one left… What are you looking at me for?”

“I was just thinking, outsiders say Grandpa Klen has a fiery temper, but Grandpa Klen is actually very easy to talk to. You’re not scary at all…”

Lulumiya shrank her neck, glancing up at him with a hint of fear in her eyes.

Klen laughed heartily. “Now I see why that old Sandel says you’re clever. So young, and you already know how to flatter me with a High Hat.”

He said this, but he wasn’t actually angry. His gaze traveled from the church door, into the dim depths of the hall, his expression complicated. “I’ve lived in this old church since I was a teenager. Outsiders say I’m stubborn, but that’s only because they never spent time here.”

Simply put, they don’t understand his feelings for the old church.

If he really were as notoriously bad-tempered and unreasonable as they say, how could he ever have become the High Priest of a church?

Klen didn’t say this aloud.

His famous temper only flared up in two situations: first, when someone insulted the sanctity of the church; second, when someone tried to sell off the old church where he’d spent his whole life. All the arguments he’d used with other scholars were just excuses. In the end, he just couldn’t bear to see the church, a place that recorded his entire life and carried his deepest emotions, be torn down—his own “holy ground.”

But deep down, he knew the old church ultimately belonged to the church authorities. As he grew older, his influence in the diocese waned, and the demolition and sale of the old church became inevitable. That sense of helplessness was exactly why he’d turned into a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest mention of “handling the old church,” using his temper to scare others away. Over time, he’d gained a reputation as a “fiery-tempered” man.

So, when Sandel came to him a few days ago, explaining that the old church didn’t need to be demolished and inviting him back to manage church affairs, his spirits instantly revived.

Even though Sandel’s plan was to convert the old church for another use, and not to receive believers anymore, the fact that the church would keep its original look and even get funds for repairs and maintenance gave the hopeless Klen a lifeline. He pretended to hesitate, but agreed almost right away.

As for using it as a Printing Workshop, Klen was one of the scholars who’d discussed typeface plans with Sandel. He not only knew what printing was, but had personally operated the printing press that Lulumiya had moved to Sandel’s study. He wholeheartedly supported the idea of producing sacred texts with the press and selling them to ordinary people.

As a High Priest, he’d had deep interactions with many poor people devoted to the Great Spirit Istel. These poor folks couldn’t afford the beautifully bound handwritten sacred texts, but their devotion to the Great Spirit Istel was even more sincere than the nobles who could buy them.

He’d seen firsthand the longing in those poor people’s eyes as they gazed at the sacred texts. The goddess’s grace should not favor the rich over the poor. No matter how you look at it, giving the poor their own sacred texts is an act of divine love for all believers.

As for those who claimed that printed copies were rough and disrespectful to Lady Istel, he only thought they were talking nonsense. If someone has never lived in a rural temple, how could they possibly understand the feelings of poor believers?

Letting the old church serve as a Printing Workshop was like giving it a new lease on life. That was why Klen had gotten up at dawn, donned the High Priest’s robe he hadn’t worn in ages, and rushed over full of energy. Lulumiya thought he was moody and nostalgic because of his stern face, but actually, he was in a great mood—especially when he saw students bustling around the old church, which brought back memories of its lively past and filled him with emotion.

Seeing how quick-witted Lulumiya was, Klen’s impression of her improved even more. This really might work out—Sandel hadn’t been lying.

You really can’t judge a book by its cover.

Thinking this, Klen pursed his lips and signaled her to talk privately.

“Sandel told me about your plans. As payment for your contribution to the church, you can use the old church’s surrounding farm’s storage rooms and sheds as you please. But he told me to ask you directly about your specific plans, probably because he was afraid I’d object. So, tell me: what do you want to do with the farm?”

“I don’t like beating around the bush, so I’ll say it straight. I’m personally satisfied as long as the old church doesn’t get torn down. But if the price is damaging the church’s reputation, I won’t just turn a blind eye.”

He probably means he’s worried I’d open a brothel or a gambling den near the church, Lulumiya thought. She put away her innocent little-girl act, thought for a moment, and answered seriously.

“I want to set up a Printing Workshop there, to print books that ordinary people will enjoy and understand.” “You mean printing books?” Klen cocked his head, his eyes full of surprise.

Lulumiya nodded. “You could put it that way. If what we produce sells well, it’ll even help ordinary people learn to read.”

“Isn’t that a wonderful thing? Sandel, that sly old fox, being so secretive—he almost had me thinking it was some kind of immoral business.”

“Maybe he wanted to give Grandpa Klen a pleasant surprise.” Lulumiya smiled.

Klen seemed like a pragmatist, just like Sandel—as long as there was no issue of principle, there was nothing to worry about. Newspapers could collect fragmented, opaque information and make it public, which would make life much easier for ordinary people. Lulumiya had no concerns that Klen would ever oppose the newspaper in the future.

Now that Klen had his answer, he completely relaxed. He dropped his stern expression and began asking about the initial needs of the Printing Workshop. Though Klen no longer had real authority, many of the central diocese’s clergy had received his favor in the past. For many troublesome matters, all he had to do was give a heads-up and the church would open its doors to help.

Lulumiya brought up the biggest problem for now.

“Ink?” Klen furrowed his sparse eyebrows. “Isn’t ink just something you buy anywhere?”

“Printing needs special ink. The stuff you can buy outside isn’t good enough—it soaks through, and the writing turns blurry.”

Lulumiya pulled two folded sheets of paper from her pocket and spread them out. “This one uses specially-made ink; the one below uses regular ink. There’s a huge difference between them.”

“Indeed,” he said. Placing the two sheets side by side, the difference was immediately obvious. The characters printed with ordinary ink had fuzzy, feathered edges and even smudged together in places, while the ones done with special ink were clear and flawless.

“From the look of things, don’t you already have suitable ink? Can’t you just use that?”

“I made this myself. It takes a lot of time and money. If it were just a few books, it would be fine, but to do mass printing, we absolutely need a dedicated workshop for ink-making.”

“You made it yourself?” Klen wanted to comment, “Is there anything you can’t do?” but he held back. “So what are you suggesting?”

“I want to do the same as with the printing press—I’ll make the ink myself and sell it to the church. But I don’t know if Grandpa Klen would accept ink made by Slaves. The ink-making technique is very valuable; I can’t let it leak out.”

“Why wouldn’t I accept it?” Klen nodded readily. “As long as it’s not related to demons, there’s no problem. Even the church’s stained glass is made by Slaves, and nobody objects.”

“Hey~ Anyone there? Delivery’s here!”

Just then, shouts came from outside the church’s rusty iron gate—several men Lulumiya had hired to transport the printing presses. You couldn’t print newspapers and sacred texts with just one press, so Lulumiya had asked Sean to make several more.

Of course, all the presses were delivered disassembled.

“Are those your people?” Klen asked suspiciously.

“Yes, they’re the workers delivering the presses. Four presses are coming today—two for the old church, two for the storage rooms.”

Klen immediately looked delighted. Seeing everything progressing so smoothly made him a bit emotional.

“So fast? The church isn’t even cleaned up yet.” He paused, thought for a moment, then decisively headed toward the door. “You wait here—I’ll go to the Central Cathedral and call in the nuns who clean. Let’s try to clear out the space today.”

But as soon as he took a step, Klen stopped again, reaching into his pocket with a look that was both embarrassed and excited.

“Almost forgot. How much do these printing presses cost? I’ll pay you now.”

“I’m giving them to the church for free. You and Grandpa Sandel helped me with the type molds; how could I take money for the presses?”

“That won’t do—business is business. Sandel and I worked on the type molds for the church’s future, not for money.”

As he spoke, Klen pulled out a coin pouch to hand to Lulumiya. Judging by the bulging, angular shape of the pouch, it held at least a dozen gold coins.

Lulumiya shook her head repeatedly, even taking a step back. “Printing presses really aren’t worth much, and if money must be paid, it should go through Grandpa Sandel and the church’s accounts. Your personal funds shouldn’t be mixed with the church’s, or people will talk.”

“Well, true—what a hassle.” Klen clicked his tongue. “All right, wait here a bit. I’ll go fetch the nuns. Sandel said yesterday that the first batch of type molds should be done by tomorrow at the latest. Once I get a few guards and nuns from him, we’ll open the Printing Workshop in a couple days and print some sacred texts. Everything okay on your end?”

“No problem—my workshop will open these next few days as well.”

To be precise, as soon as the type molds were ready tomorrow, they could get to work. She’d send some people to Klen’s to learn to use the press and practice printing sacred texts, while she herself would clear out the storage rooms and teach Lijie and the others how to draft news articles—actually, tonight she’d gather everyone for lessons.

Aside from that, she still needed to get the latest shipping schedules from Tiran and the latest rumors circulating in the capital… Wait, where was Klen?

Lulumiya looked up and saw Klen already a tiny figure down the hill.

Clearly, he was the most impatient of them all.

[Title acquired: “Clever Magic Doll,” “High Priest Klen’s Approval,” “Fat Sheep Awaiting Slaughter”]

[Positive Karma: 17 (up by 2 points)]

“Hmm?”

Watching the notification bar flicker in the lower left corner of her vision, Lulumiya’s eyelid twitched.

…What do you mean, “Fat Sheep Awaiting Slaughter”?