Immortality of the dead

Chapter 20

"Ah... but I have this concern. If this virus is so powerful, it's even more potent than nuclear weapons. Terrorist attacks are rampant in many countries these days. What if someone sends a letter with the Fanovirus hidden inside, like they did in the United States?" I hesitated for a moment, not mentioning the threat of a Fanovirus terrorist attack in Shanghai. It was a top secret, and although I had to tell He Xi, I believed she wouldn't tell her father now that I was saying this.

“Currently, under laboratory conditions, the Van Hels virus is not easy to cultivate in large quantities. Well, perhaps in the future, there will be variants that are easier to survive. However, using it as a means of terrorist attack,” Van Helser thought for a moment, then shook his head and said, “this virus is still quite rare. I think you are overthinking it. First, you need a suitable opportunity to obtain it, and second, you need the ability to cultivate it. Ordinary terrorists probably cannot do that.”

"What if they're not ordinary terrorists?" I asked inappropriately, because without explaining the reason, the question seemed unreasonable.

Van Heller looked at me, not understanding why I was dwelling on this, but still answered me.

"If we ignore the issues of obtaining and cultivating the Van denezis virus, then I think that using the non-infectious Van denezis virus for an attack could have a strong deterrent effect. However, using a newly discovered variant like this one for an attack is, in my opinion, an unthinkable act."

Why?

"If you don't want to get yourself involved, it's best not to do it. Spreading a highly contagious and incurable virus is something even a madman would think twice about. Terrorists are still rational after all; they have their own purposes when they carry out attacks, so I don't think they would risk a global spread of the virus by doing this. Whatever they are after, using the Van denezi virus will only backfire in the end. I think if someone wants to use biological weapons for terrorist attacks, there are many better options, such as anthrax, or even Ebola, which are much better than the Van denezi virus."

But there are many paranoids and lunatics in this world, and Virus Knight might be one of them. Van Heller's words didn't put my mind at ease; instead, they made me even more worried.

At that moment, He Xi greeted everyone, got up, and left to go to the restroom. Van Heller watched her leave and suddenly asked me, "She's very charming, isn't she?"

"Ah, yes." I didn't know how to respond for a moment.

Van Heller looked away, smiled at me, and said nothing more.

Was he admonishing or encouraging? The old man's weathered face concealed so much; was he just saying something casually?

"I heard He Xi's brother is sick?" I don't know what prompted me to ask that question.

“Yes.” Van Heller’s face darkened. “He has been infected with an unknown virus, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

"I'm sorry." I regretted bringing it up.

“Our medicine is still in its infancy,” Van Heller sighed.

"Fan Zhe came to Shanghai before she fell ill. Could there be another deadly virus lurking in Shanghai?" Now that Fan Zhe has brought it up, I'm going to ask a few more questions. I don't believe that Van Heller is completely unaware of his daughter's suspicions.

“I know about the relationship between He Xi and Fan Zhe, and I understand how my daughter feels right now. She has her own ideas about some things. At first, I wanted to stop her, but now it seems…”

Van Heller picked up his small teacup and took a sip of chrysanthemum tea. I stared at him, wondering why the old man always liked to split a sentence into two parts.

"Let her be. If you're willing to help her, that's fine too. After all, you're more familiar with Shanghai. Take good care of her for me." Van Heller's tone softened slightly as he said this, which stirred my almost lifeless mind a little more.

“If there really is something going on, as she suspects, I’m also eager to know. Fan Zhe, he’s the child I value most.” As he said this, I saw a clear emotion in his eyes for the first time—an unconcealable sadness, the heart-wrenching grief of a parent outliving their child.

I was speechless for a moment, and the atmosphere at the dinner table became oppressive.

He Xi returned quickly.

"What's wrong?" She keenly noticed that there was something different between me and Van Heller than before she left.

"Oh, it's nothing. I was just asking Mr. Fan about his ideals for medical research. Nowadays, there's a lot of talk about integrating traditional Chinese medicine and Western medicine in China, but in reality, traditional Chinese medicine has become just a superficial imitation of Western medicine. There are fewer and fewer good traditional Chinese medicine doctors left, so the idea of integration is just empty talk," I said, trying to cover it up.

"Ah, you must have been shocked by his ideas. To be honest, I can't understand it at all," He Xi said with a sigh. But I was completely confused by what she said.

Van Heller coughed lightly, smiled at He Xi, and said, "No, don't say that. I was just getting to the point. Actually, Na Duo was born in China, so he should be more accepting of my thoughts than you are."

After listening to Van Heller and He Xi's conversation, I became genuinely interested in Van Heller's medical philosophy, which "frightened me."

"Traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) and Western medicine follow completely different paths and seem entirely unrelated. At least from the perspective of modern medicine, that is, Western medicine, many TCM treatment concepts are incomprehensible, and treatment methods appear even more ignorant and backward, such as gua sha (scraping therapy). In Western countries, Chinese people performing gua sha on their children was once considered child abuse, and many people were sued. There is a movie called 'Gua Sha,' which is about a similar case. Later, TCM's influence in the world gradually increased. Although it cannot be compared with Western medicine, medical methods such as gua sha, acupuncture, and acupressure have been accepted by many Westerners, and TCM clinics are currently very popular in the United States and Europe. Why is this? Because these methods are indeed effective."

"Don't go on and on, we're about to go through security and board the plane, be careful not to waste time," He Xi interrupted with a smile.

Van Heller glared at He Xi, but his eyes showed far more affection than reproach.

“But this is a very strange thing. Why would a treatment method derived from a theory that modern medicine cannot understand at all actually have a significant effect? Are there really acupoints? Are there really meridians? Why can’t the instruments find them, and why can’t the dissection find them?” Van Heller became excited as he spoke, and his originally thin and slightly pale face became rosy.

"If this problem isn't solved, there's no way to talk about the true integration of traditional Chinese and Western medicine," Fan Haile said, taking a sip of tea to moisten his throat.

"Did you solve this problem?" I asked him, my eyes wide. Even I, someone who knows nothing about medicine, knew that this was an almost impossible problem to solve.

"I can't say it's solved. Many people have been studying this over the years, some have tried to explain meridians using endocrine analysis, but in my opinion, that's completely wrong. I do have some of my own ideas." Van Heller paused here, then started to build up suspense again.

My interest was completely piqued, so I quickly asked, "Then how do you explain it?"

Van Heller smiled smugly; he had hit a nerve. He was fair-skinned and beardless, otherwise he would have stroked his beard and laughed.

"My daughter is very beautiful in your eyes, isn't she?"

I didn't know why he suddenly brought up this topic again. I glanced at He Xi and said, "Anyone would think she's beautiful, unless that person has a problem with their aesthetic sense."

"What color are her eyes?"

"Light blue." I regretted saying it as soon as it was out. I should have glanced at He Xi before speaking. Most people would have done that. Now, I blurted it out without thinking, and everyone would know how much attention I paid to her.

Van Heller just smiled and asked again, "What color is her dress?"

"It's also blue."

"White pants, right?"

"Yes. But what does that have to do with what we were just talking about?"

“Of course it’s related. Are you sure this dress is the color you see?” Van Heller asked me, pointing at He Xi.

"Of course, don't you think this dress isn't blue?" I suddenly felt a little guilty, but my physical exam when I was in school didn't reveal that I was colorblind or color-weak.

"Did you know that the human eye can actually only distinguish a very limited number of colors?"

I nodded.

"The world a fly sees is different from that of a human because the optical structure of their eyes is different. If a fly sees this piece of clothing, it may not be blue. So, is the fly right or the human right?"

"Well, we are human beings, so of course we should stand on the side of human beings."

“Actually, even the most sophisticated organisms can only distinguish a very limited spectrum of light. What does that mean? It means we don’t really know what a person or a piece of clothing looks like; what we see is just a tiny fraction of it.” He held up his little finger to show how tiny it was. “It’s not just vision; how many scents can we smell? Even dogs can’t distinguish many scents. And the same goes for hearing. A person perceives the world through their eyes, ears, and nose, but the world reflected by these three organs is far removed from the real world. Oh, and if we add touch, it’s equally unreliable. Scientific instruments are magnifications and extensions of human organs, and their function is also very limited.”

"So you believe that things like meridians and acupoints are real, but because of our limited cognitive abilities, we can't yet discover these things that are inside our bodies?" I asked, frowning as I pondered his words.

"Yes, that's it."

He Xi had already paid the bill. She shook her head, clearly not agreeing with her father's bold idea.

"That's about enough. Let's head to security and talk as we walk."

“I have thought of a theory that echoes your idea,” I said as I stood up.

Tell me about it.

"The matter we encounter now accounts for only about four percent of the total matter in the universe. Many times more abundant than this so-called ordinary matter is something called dark matter. This matter is invisible and currently undetectable; it is inferred from the abnormal trajectories of celestial bodies in the distant universe. Even more abundant than the total mass of dark matter is dark energy, which is also invisible and intangible. If dark matter and dark energy exist not only in the distant universe but also around us, then traditional Chinese medicine theory can explain it, because meridians are dark matter, which is why current instruments cannot detect them. Yet they do exist, and therefore they can function."

Van Heller slapped my shoulder hard and burst into laughter: "Your idea is fantastic! It fills in many gaps in my thinking. Not just dark matter, but also dark energy. I've always firmly believed that the Qi cultivation techniques of Chinese Taoism are real and effective. That's right, it's dark energy, the dark energy flowing in the body!"

He Xi shook her head and said softly to me, "My father was particularly superstitious about Taoist doctrines and always conducted various experimental medical studies based on ancient Taoist texts. If it were in the past, he would definitely have practiced alchemy and cultivated qi to become a Taoist priest."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"It's not that I don't believe in it at all, but I still prefer to start from Western medicine and conduct research based on proven theories. This may be related to my learning environment."

After Van Heller disappeared into the security checkpoint, he had been chatting and laughing with us just moments before, but why did he look so haggard now?

Am I overthinking things, or has the blow from Fan Zhe been so great that the old man's heart is already overwhelmed?

From a distance, the two sharp, skyward-pointing spires of the Xujiahui Catholic Church are visible. This beautiful Gothic building is the largest Catholic church in Shanghai, constructed in 1910. With a long history, it is a protected historical building in Shanghai. Passing the fountain at the entrance, He Xi and I entered this magnificent cathedral.

It was Saturday, and we arrived in the afternoon, not during Mass, so there weren't many people in the church. I asked a Catholic where the priest was, and he pointed to a middle-aged man wearing glasses and black casual clothes.

“Hello, Father,” I said as I went up to him.

"Hello, this is the first time I've met you. Did one of your fellow believers bring you here?" He smiled at me.

“No, that’s not it. It’s like this, I have a friend who may have had a confession here three months ago, which was also a Saturday morning. If possible, I would like to find out the priest who heard his confession.”

The priest's eyes widened, and he stared at me in surprise: "Oh, what do you want to do?"

"He's involved in a very serious case, and I'd like to ask..."

The priest's eyes widened even more, and he interrupted me: "Oh my God, you are not a believer of my Lord, are you?" He made the sign of the cross on his chest and whispered, "Believe in my Lord and you will have eternal life."

"Uh, yes," I replied awkwardly.

"Then I tell you, under no circumstances can a priest reveal the contents of a confessor's confession. This is the most basic principle of confidentiality."

"Ah." I glanced at He Xi in surprise. She also frowned. It seemed that He Xi was not a Catholic and was not very clear about this rule.

"However, this could involve many lives. For the police, this is also a very important lead; should the Public Security Bureau get involved…?"

“Sir,” the priest shook his head, interrupting me again, “it won’t matter who comes, I’ve said it before, under any circumstances. Revealing the contents of confession is a serious violation of church rules, and even if it’s an escaped prisoner, we cannot offer any assistance.”

I had guessed beforehand that the priest would keep the contents of his confession confidential, based on a general moral assumption. So I planned to try it myself first, and if that didn't work, I'd get the police involved. I figured if public safety was truly threatened, they would eventually talk. I didn't expect the Catholic Church's rules in this regard to be so strict, seemingly leaving no room for negotiation.

“It seems we have to think of another way. Besides, my brother might not necessarily be seeking confession from the priest. It’s his first time in this church, and he doesn’t know the priest. Maybe he’s just here to silently repent before the statue of the Virgin Mary and Jesus,” He Xi told me.

Perhaps Fan Zhe didn't come here to repent, but rather to find someone or do something. I need to figure out a way to determine exactly what Fan Zhe did that day. I thought to myself.

The priest frowned again and said to He Xi, "Please don't confuse Catholicism with Protestantism. Catholics don't allow parishioners to confess on their own; only a priest can forgive your sins on behalf of the Lord."

"I'm sorry," He Xi immediately apologized to him.

The priest was quite satisfied with He Xi's attitude, smiled to indicate that he had forgiven her mistake, and asked: "The parishioner you mentioned is not a local parishioner, is he? I think most local parishioners should have been here before."

"Yes, he is in Switzerland. He came to Shanghai three months ago and only stayed for a few days."

"Is that so? We generally only accept confessions from local parishioners, not necessarily after Mass. We can just schedule a time. As for parishioners we don't know, especially foreign parishioners like you said, to my recollection, I don't remember any priest accepting such confessions in the last few months."

“Oh, but he looks distinctly Chinese,” He Xi added.

"Yes, he's about 185 centimeters tall, and his profile looks a lot like mine. He probably brought two suitcases with him when he came," I said.

The priest shook his head: "I don't think so."

But as he said this, someone next to him let out a soft "Ah!" in surprise.

Turning my head, I saw a young man who looked to be under thirty. I vaguely remembered him standing next to us. He was wearing a priest's robe, so I figured he must be a clergyman. He was undoubtedly attracted to He Xi's beauty; I remember priests can marry and have children, so this reaction wasn't surprising at all.

"Fang Bo, what's wrong?" the priest asked him.

“The person they’re talking about… I think I’ve seen him before.” Fang Bo said, looking at He Xi. “It was also on a Saturday, right? We had just finished Mass, around nine in the morning.”

“Yes.” He Xi and I nodded together.

“He confessed to me,” he said slowly.

"To you?" The priest looked at him strangely.

"Actually, you can't say that. I'm a monk and I'm not qualified to hear confessions. But this person insisted on doing it that day. He first asked Father Huang Jianyong, and after being refused, he came to me."

“I see.” The priest pondered for a moment, then said, “You are not qualified to be a confessional priest, so what you heard cannot be considered confession. Therefore, the church rule of keeping confession confidential cannot bind you. You decide for yourself whether to tell these two friends.” After saying this, he took his leave and walked away.

“We have very important reasons, and we hope you can help us,” He Xi said to the cultivator Fang Bo. Although her attitude remained somewhat cold, her unusually focused gaze had already made the young cultivator a little uneasy.

IX. Death * Fan Zhe's Final Confession