The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1075 (Ch.1074) Growth
Alice is very happy today.

Her father and 'new mother' came to see her performance—to be honest, she didn't really like her new mother and still missed...maybe she'd miss her 'old mother' for the rest of her life.

Alice and Roland look very similar.

In some ways, she matured earlier than her peers; moreover, she was, after all, a woman.

Men need women.

A grown, strong, energetic, and long-lonely man needs a gentle and tender woman—do you really think that children don't talk badly about their parents when they get together?

These little monsters are not as 'naive' as adults think.

Alice always listened to the boys talk about it.

Whose mother had a cleft lip, whose father had a festering disease under his belly button, and whose sister had a pair of smelly big feet.

She often laughed at her past foolishness, telling Mr. Collins and her father that she wanted to become a 'night pastry chef'—now, she was older and should understand everything.

'Your new mother is so beautiful, what does she do?'

The boys were partly egging them on, and partly asking questions.

Alice, as a member of the group, was naturally included in the description: 'She's a dancer.'

This remark drew a lot of boos.

dancer?
Those dancers who dance specifically for important people and provide them with entertainment?

Oh my god...

This lie is so poorly told.

Cordoni was just a leatherworker soaked in chemicals. What ability did he have to deign to serve in a treasure cave once used by a great man with a golden lance? Just for his shabby, dilapidated house? And the strange smell that he couldn't shake off?

That's for important people only!
Lies! Lies!
'We don't believe it! We don't believe it! Alice is a big liar!'

Alice, her neck stiff with pride: "That's her! She even danced a bit!"

The boys ran wild and shouted that Alice was lying.

Alice didn't.

She had actually seen Ms. Megan dance.

Even she was somewhat obsessed.

Extremely Beautiful.

A true aristocratic lady!

Right?

Only noble ladies have the qualifications, time, and money to learn that alluring dance, right?
Soon... not long after.

The boys and girls then figured out Alice's 'new mother' identity—she was a prostitute.

Besides their parents, who else can they listen to?
'My father loves her!'

'Only you believe that thing is love! Haha! The old cobbler found a prostitute! The old prostitute found a cobbler! The old cobbler found—'

Alice stopped playing with them.

She rushed home, bursting through the door like a wild boar, yelling at her father and asking him why he had found such a shameful woman.

Her father remained remarkably quiet during her questioning.

That was also the first time in Alice's young life that she saw her father shed tears—

To tell the truth.

Miss Megan is a good person.

She brought not only the gentle warmth of a spring that soothes the dry cracks in the stone, but also her vision, her companionship, a wealth far beyond the knowledge of a tanner, and a 'motherly love' that had been absent for many years—to be honest, Alice couldn't find fault with Miss Megan.

Aside from her life.

But who can truly control their own life?

Her arrival taught the old cobbler to work when he should work and rest when he should rest—to live a life of routine, and the shop was no longer filled with the smell of mold and alcohol.

This kind of determined and natural way of life should not be called hard work, or accused of laziness.

The young girl couldn't describe what it was; she only knew it was peaceful.

The scars left on children living in poverty are more enduring and harder to heal than any wound—they awaken extraordinary talents in them, and their sensitive skin can even feel the sighs from neighbors carried on a light summer afternoon breeze.

Alice was that kind of girl. She kept one word firmly in mind: troublemaker.

This was something William Cordoni casually taught her when her father still had business, before the rumbling factory emitted black smoke—in the art of tanning, there is a bad habit that apprentices often make, a habit they can't shake even when they're serving customers alone.

This unnecessary technique could damage the leather, waste time, and might even hurt your fingers.

Troublesome.

My father told me that.

Alice no longer wants to be her father's troublemaker.

She wanted to be a 'capable hand,' a 'helper,' and all sorts of 'fantastic hands' that would make him proud—and when those intimidating old women knocked on the shoemaker's door, Alice knew her chance had come.

Perhaps she can rely on Mr. Roland Collins for the rest of her life…

Can she?
Could she marry him, or a man as gentle and strong as him, a man whose heart could hold the anguish she and her father shared?

Maybe…

Just like the old women said.

Participating in a selection process that is not entirely secretive, but is certainly prestigious—even if she is not chosen, the honor and wealth she gains, and even the dignity and power, will add an extraordinary dimension to her and her father's lives.

With this title, after a few more years, she can marry into a good family: knowledge from school may not be enough, but the title of 'candidate for sainthood' of the Holy Cross may be.

“This is not my ability…Mother Haider.”

After the parents arrive, the nuns in the convent will show them the girls' 'report cards'—covering virtue, manners, doctrinal assessments, their "mysterious" affinity, and so on...

Alice was among the top students, but certainly not number one.

She had been worried about this for a while.

Available today.

The report card included an additional note at the end of the signature: "I am delighted to inform you that Miss Alice Cordoni is, to date, the most outstanding candidate in this round of auditions."

This was clearly not written by cold, unassuming nuns.

It was Mother Haider.

She did it secretly.

"Silly boy."

Ms. Haider has a weathered old face, but her eyes are like those of a fifteen-year-old girl.

She stroked Alice's brown hair, which was gradually transforming from withered grass into silk, glossy after being soaked in water and love, and looked down at her with affection: "That's true."

she says.

"Really? But, but, I don't have Helen yet, I don't have Dubins, I don't have Mai, I don't have—"

The names she mentioned were all girls she considered better than herself.

She has no chance of getting first place.

"Because I have the power to move you from your original position to the very front, silly child. I have that authority."

Haider admired Alice's 'purity'.

This is the most essential qualification for a saintess.

In reality, the remaining girls varied in their manners, knowledge, virtue, and wisdom—even excluding the ladies who were there to 'gild' their status, Alice couldn't definitively say that she was the 'most outstanding'.

The real 'test' is not about their understanding of the doctrine, their intelligence, or whether they can memorize several passages of recitation at a glance.

These are not the important things.

That's just superficial politeness.

Pure.

This is an essential requirement for a saintess, or rather, the only requirement.

“But…that’s not the truth, Granny.”

Alice was somewhat unwilling.

I was secretly pleased, but also uneasy.

“That is certainly not the truth, little Alice,” Mother Heidel smiled knowingly, “but power can create the truth.”

(End of this chapter)