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History is full of lies.

Giulio di Giuliano de' Medici, like Constena, was adopted by Lorenzo de' Medici and spent his carefree childhood and adolescence in the comfort and safety of Palazzo Vecchio, until. But in fact, he was handed over by his uncle to Bishop Francis Todscheni Picomini, who was commissioned by Pope Siscot IV to serve as a missionary in central Italy, and spent the first six years of his precious life on and off in between.

Now they have come to Assisi.

Assisi, a small city nestled in the hills, has existed even longer than the city of Rome, as early as 238 A.D., there was the saint Lufer who preached and martyred here, but in the end it became the holy city of the whole of Umbria and even the Balkans, it was St. Francis and St. Caleb who were born here in 1182 and 1194 A.D. Obeying the canonical order of St. Francis, he was canonized two years after his death (1228), and the latter, a faithful follower of him, founded the Congregation of St. Calles, who died in 1253 and was also canonized two years later (1255).

In the same year, at the initiative of the monk Aria, the people and the Church of Assisi financed the construction of the Church of St. Francis and its affiliated monastery in order to accommodate more monks and pilgrims. The church was built next to the hill that was originally called the "Hill of Hell" and was later renamed the "Mountain of Paradise" because of the voluntary burial of St. Francis, and was divided into two churches, completed in 1253, and is extremely exquisite, huge and beautiful.

Giulio's current guardian, a classmate of Bishop Picromini, who had recently become bishop of Perugia with the help of his uncle's gold coins, knew that Bishop Picromini had been commissioned by the previous pope to preach in Umbria, so he tried his best to invite his brother to the Hajj to St. Francis and St. Calle.

When Bishop Picromini entered Assisi, just after the morning service was over in the early hours of the morning, Bishop of Perugia, who had received the news, was waiting in front of the convent of St. Francis, happily placing his hands in front of his protruding lower abdomen, and for today's reunion he had chosen a velvet robe called Dalmatica, made of fuchsia velvet from Milan, which shone with a little gold under candles or torches, and a gold cross and a square badge with St. Francis and the Birds engraved on the breastplate, inlaid with deep purple crystals。 Behind him were the abbots of the Convent of St. Francis, the priests and the deacons, as well as the monks of St. Francis, dressed in brown robes with hoods and white linen cords tied around their waists, barefoot like St. Francis.

One of the most trusted priests of the Bishop of Perugia held for him a golden reliquary, containing a decaying rope that is said to have been wrapped around the saint's waist for decades, testifying to his piety and purity. The Bishop of Perugia was not very satisfied with this, and he wanted to come up with something more worthy of admiration, but St. Francis was no ordinary saint, and he fasted and meditated for forty days before and after the feast of the Glorious Cross in order to retreat from the divine work, for which angels came down from the clouds and gave him five stigmata of wounds on his hands, feet, and under his ribs. It is also the only stigmata recognized by the Holy See so far, and there are still hundreds of miracles during his lifetime and after his death, and his conduct and piety are not blasphemous or doubtful, and it is precisely because of this that no one dares to cut off a part of the body left by St. Francis in this turbid world, as he did with other saints.

Moreover, St. Francis was indeed as thrifty as he preached, and he never even had a wooden staff in his hand, so that he was so virtuous that when he was called away by our dear Lord, he left behind a room that was not even filled.

At last the Bishop of Perugia reluctantly accepted the abbot's offer, and they brought from the church of St. Calle three holy things belonging to St. Calle, and two deacons carried for him a copper censer with three chains, in which charcoal was burned, and on which frankincense was poured on it, and the smoke of the fog carried a rich smell around the people, and two other deacons held for him the holy book, which was beautifully and expensively bound, gilded with the incisions, and which contained no less than twelve precious precious stone paints, which had been copied and painted by the same monk for nearly ten years, and four beautiful boys, holding silver platesOn a silver platter were wines from the Loire region of France, white bread made from flour and milk that had been sifted twenty times, and a large curved-necked jug with warm water not for drinking, but for washing the dust off the face and between the fingers.

So when the man they had been waiting for finally appeared on the grey and white path on horseback, it was not the Bishop of Perugia who was most happy, but the boy with the crooked neck.

Picromini jumped off his horse, still very strong and agile for a man of forty-five years of age, his shaved hair neatly arranged above his thick eyebrows, his eyelids slightly puffy, but his eyes were as sharp as those of a falcon, his nose was bent downward, and the corners of his mouth were sternly tilted downward. He wore a robe very similar to that of the Friar of St. Francis, wrapped in a wide and long woollen cloak of pale yellow color, unbleached, unembroidered and buttoned, pinned to his left shoulder with a copper pin.

When a deacon tried to help him, he waved him down, and the bishop of Perugia made a lewd gesture in his heart, and made a grimace, and before he could salute or speak, Picromini gave him a great startle.

The first thing Picomini did when his feet were on the ground was to lift the cloak and let the little one inside fall out on its own.

It was a child, about five years old, six years old at most, with curly black hair, cheeks as rosy as roses, and his eyes were a very, very light brown, and the thinly ground amber was the color of the sun, and the light of torches and candles shimmered in those eyes, like stars, and like ripples.

"The son of a friend," said the bishops of Picromini and Perugia as they walked arm-in-arm along the corridors of the convent, "for some reason he could not stay with his relatives. ”

Bishop Perugia nodded in understanding.

The abbot was willing to give up his room, but neither Picoromini nor Bishop Perugia refused, and the monastery had rooms for pilgrims and lifelong monks, and there was only one chair and bed in the room, and the friars' room would have a small table, and they would sit down at the small table, and Bishop Perugia occupied the narrow bed, while Picromini used the chair.

A monk brought two not-so-extravagant supper, a few slices of sweet ginger for appetizers, cabbage soup, and a creamy gratin of eel, which ended with aged cheese, a meal that could not be faulty even during Lent except time: "Brothers who have come from afar," asked the Bishop of Perugia, as he picked up a piece of sweet ginger and put it in his mouth, "are they all arranged?"

"Everything was in perfect condition," said the deacon, "and we provided them with a bath bucket, bread, salt, and water." ”

"Tub?" said Picomini.

"What?" asked Bishop of Perugia, chewing on sweet ginger.

"If I'm not mistaken," said Pictromini, "St. Francis has made it clear that 'dirty' is also one of the signs of divinity. ”

The monk glanced apprehensively at the pilgrim, while Picomini was only engrossed in dipping a slice of bread into the cabbage soup.

"St. Francis has also said that our sisters of water are so submissive, clean and precious. Bishop Perugia said nonchalantly: "When we clean our bodies with water sisters, we are also following his teachings. ”

He paused, glancing at the monk who was about to stand in the corner of the room, "All right, child," said the bishop kindly, "you can go back to your room, and we will recite the scriptures to each other, just as we did when we were in Rome." ”

The young monk immediately stopped, he was not the kind of religious person who would not enter the priesthood for the rest of his life for the purpose of seclusion, and the opportunity to serve two bishops at the same time was also extremely rare, but he knew that there might be something that would not be heard by ordinary monks like him, so he immediately meekly withdrew from the room, leaving only Picomini and Bishop Perugia together.

"Now you might be able to tell me. Bishop Perugia said: "Who is that child?"

"You can start reciting the scriptures," said Picomini, "Brother Adrian." "Adrian was the lay name of the Bishop of Perugia, when they were still in the seminary of Rome, young and naïve, hot-blooded and reckless.

"It's a secret, isn't it?" said the Bishop of Perugia, as if he hadn't heard his classmates muttering anything: "We can trade, you tell me, and I tell you, not necessarily significant, but I promise you will not be in debt to me or my creditor for it." “

"What do you want to know?"

"The child you brought with you...... "is it a hostage, or a gift, or is it another illegitimate child of yours? The Romans say that you have twelve illegitimate children, as many as disciples of Jesus Christ. ”

"Put away that blasphemous statement, you know I don't have illegitimate children, and I don't have mistresses. Picromini said that although he was not the kind of person who would treat himself as harshly as an ascetic, he was certainly not good at chasing the heels of children and prostitutes like the priesthood of Rome.

"It doesn't hurt to let people talk like that," said Bishop Perugia, "which crimson (the color of the cardinal's clothing) or white (the color of the Pope's clothing) has not hidden a child or two, and the truly holy people are on parchment and marble, so that they do not think that you will be a threat." ”

"Threat?" Picomini looked up, "I'm not even a cardinal. ”

"Yes. "You are a Picomini. ”

"The moment of truth is Picomini, who is thousands of miles away. ”

"It seems that you don't know anything about Rome either. Bishop Perugia said, crossing his hands contentedly.

"Our Holy Father is at stake. ”

"It's going to last a few months. Bishop Perugia said: "Possibly. ”

"Has the atmosphere in Rome become tense?"

"Some cardinals are collecting gold, what do you think?"

Picomini smiled sarcastically: "Actually, I think they could have elected the pope by rolling the dice," he said not very respectfully, "and whoever becomes a pope will be rewarded by each cardinal one by one." He spread his hands: "It's fair and reasonable." ”

"I've got a lot of money to go," Perugia said, "maybe change the color of my clothes." ”

"It's a bit difficult," said Piccoloni, "is there anyone who voluntarily quits teaching?"

"Someone may suddenly go mad," said Bishop Perugia sincerely, "but Picromini, I want to go back to Rome, I don't want to stay in this position until I am old and I can achieve nothing." ”

"Your ideas deserve respect. ”

"And what about you?" asked the Bishop of Perugia, "what about you, what about you, Picomini, listen to this illustrious surname, you are the nephew of Pius II, bishop at the age of twenty-two, Pius II allowed you to inherit the name and coat of arms of the Picromini family, you have held no less than three of the most important positions in succession, apart from your uncle, you have also taken care of the living and eating of Paul II, he trusts you so much, loves you, and regards you as his right-hand man, if not Francesco de la Lovere......

"Needless to say," said Picomini calmly, "he knows how to bribe and seduce better than I do." ”

"That's because you're always hesitating," said the Bishop of Perugia, dissatisfied, "that you could have done something instead of being driven out of Rome so easily by Lovere." ”

"Alright, alright," said Pictromini, "I know what you think, and in that case, you can tell me what you need me to do for you." (To be continued.) )