"Don't worry, venerable Archdeacon," Li Qingwu said, "tomorrow I will return to the army and begin investigating the defilement!"
Li Qingwu gave his word: even if it wasn't his order, upon learning of the traces of Chaos, he would still try to destroy the source of the infection.
Warp contamination can manifest in various ways, but in its early stages, it is usually not too dangerous.
Sometimes it's just whispers of incomprehensible voices heard by peasants; sometimes it's pustules on the skin of Hive dwellers or a surge in crime in bailiff archives.
The main thing is to recognize and eliminate the source in time, before the world plunges into horrors where hundreds of billions of mortals are sacrificed, and demons of the Warp cleave through the sky.
Having decided to protect what belongs to him, Li Qingwu decided to gather news from the rebels.
"Brave warrior of the God-Emperor, I am proud of you."
"Take this. May He protect your soul."
The Archdeacon took a long, narrow scroll from behind his cassock and handed it to Li Qingwu: it was a seal of purity.
It was a narrow strip of parchment about thirty centimeters long with Holy Scripture, sealed with red wax on armor or a blade – a sign that the warrior is pure and not subject to defilement.
In reality, this sign would burst into flames as soon as its owner approached a zone of Warp contamination or those already affected by it: a warning, a symbol of readiness for battle.
The purity handed to him by the Archdeacon was rolled into a ring, sealed with wax bearing an imprint of a ring in the shape of a skull.
Li Qingwu accepted the scroll and put it in his pocket.
"Then, venerable Archdeacon, allow me to take my leave."
A smile returned to the priest's face. He turned to the bewildered Teresa:
"Sir, today the nuns have a day off. You were going to take Teresa home, weren't you? Why not now?"
Li Qingwu stood up and beckoned the girl.
"It's just the right time, Teresa. Let's go together, I'll show you my new home, you'll remember the way."
She stood up, following him towards the exit of the cathedral.
On the square, illuminated by artificial light, the statue of the God-Emperor shone with gold.
"Uncle, where are we going?" Teresa asked quietly.
Li Qingwu approached the repair buggy parking lot, took out his keys, and twirled them in the air.
"I opened a winery. There's a room in the dormitory there – if you want, you can live there."
"Uncle, what about my parents?" Teresa asked with a trembling voice.
He patted the back seat, inviting her to sit.
"Don't be afraid. In a couple of days, I'll move them here and vouch for them to help me manage the winery. Buckle up."
Teresa obediently settled in, and Li Qingwu started the buggy and headed for the winery.
On the way, he asked: "Teresa, tell me honestly: do you feel... that there is something special about you?"
The girl lowered her head.
"No..."
They were silent for a while. Li Qingwu hesitated whether to reveal the truth to her, but thinking about the risk of interrogation and memory extraction, he decided to remain silent.
"Perhaps you don't feel it yourself, but the Archdeacon is not mistaken. He sensed power in you."
Silence fell again. Sitting next to his disciple, Li Qingwu felt a surge of mentoring zeal.
"Teresa, remember one thing: speak less, look more. Don't rush to express your opinion. Even if someone says things that are unpleasant to you – don't rush to argue."
"Why, Uncle?" the girl's eyes widened.
He continued his paternal lecture without taking his eyes off the road: "The Ecclesiarchy is not united. There are too many factions, and if you can't win an argument theologically, sometimes a fist decides the matter. The struggle for power is terrible: in the name of doctrines, in the name of the right to interpret 'truth,' heads are smashed like rotten pumpkins. In such a fight, you must think about every word, because enemies are watching you constantly."
Teresa listened attentively, hearing revelations of this kind for the first time. Li Qingwu shared the life wisdom of elders with her all the way.
Upon reaching the winery, he turned off the engine, opened the door, and continued, fiddling with the lock: "In an argument, the best way to win is not by quoting Holy Scripture or referring to elders, but by ensuring the opponent doesn't even find an opportunity to challenge you to a debate. In a duel, the best armor is not armor, but a pre-emptive strike force that decides everything before you enter the Arena. Don't let problems explode at your feet – eliminate them in advance. That's what a wise person does. Come in."
A click was heard – the large iron gates swung open, and Teresa's gaze sank into the expanse of the winery. The girl gasped with delight, her eyes sparkling with stars.
"Uncle, so this is your winery!"
Li Qingwu nodded proudly.
"Of course. I took it by force!"
Puffing out his chest, he brought the baskets of grapes to the tiled reservoir and dumped them into the pool. A sly grin appeared on his face; he took out a camera, borrowed from a neighboring packaging factory, and squinted at Teresa.
"Oh, beautiful Teresa, Uncle has a small request. You won't refuse Uncle, will you? Heh-heh-heh-heh!"
The girl flinched, and then blushed like a poppy.
"Uh? What do you want, Uncle?"
"Take off your little boots."
"Huh? Shoes?"
Li Qingwu nodded.
"Yes, yes, yes! Take them off quickly!"
"Ah... alright... if you ask, I'll do anything..."
Teresa obediently pulled off her shoes, revealing snow-white stockings.
The camera clicked – twenty-four frames per second, as if he were shooting a video.
"Wonderful! Hold it like that! Now go into the vat and stomp the grapes!"
"What... stomp the grapes? Isn't that barbaric?" she stammered, confused.
"Nonsense! This isn't spoiling food, it's adding value. Do as I said."
"Th-then I'll take off my dress first…"
She was wearing a nun's habit – white with gold trim and black inserts, and she was afraid of staining the fabric.
"No! Don't take it off! We need the habit!"
Teresa's cheeks flushed, but she obeyed.
Lifting her skirt, she jumped into the pool.
*Splash!*
Berries burst under her feet, staining her white stockings a deep purple.
Li Qingyu clicked the shutter again.
"Move, stomp! Mash all the berries! Faster! Like you're dancing!"
"Eeeek!" Teresa flailed her legs helplessly, her heart pounding in rhythm, her habit swaying slightly.
*Gurgle… Splish-splash…*
Grape juice oozed from under her feet, like the breath of a dying body, staining the hem of her habit. Embarrassment, shyness, childlike simplicity – all created a picture that was both enchanting and unsettling.
Li Qingyu clicked the last frame and, satisfied, thought that if this didn't sell in the market, he'd quit the business forever.