"A letter," the monastery picked up a tightly sealed envelope from the table, with a complex heraldry on it. "Send this letter to the Bishop of Palermo for me. Although it should be done by Modillo, the poor child can no longer take care of himself. May God bless him."

Seeing the monastery crossing his chest as he used to, Ding Mu hesitated for a moment before he could barely follow him.

"I'm willing to send you a letter, Lord Dean."

Ding Mu finally made up his mind that as long as he could leave this cage-like place, Ding Mu was still willing to take a risk.

"Oh," the monastery's hand holding the envelope shook slightly, as if he had heard some good news, but after handing out the letter, he stopped. "But there is something that may be a problem. This is a letter of Jin to Bishop Palermo, which must be delivered by even personnel according to the teachings."

Although I don’t know what the teaching method is, I can tell that it’s so high-end just by listening to the name. Ding Mu couldn’t help but be stunned. Even a flash of his mind: ‘Does this old monk want to deceive himself into being a monk with him?’

But then he realized that this idea was ridiculous, after all, he was so important that a monastic dean had taken such great pains.

"You can borrow the name of the Modillo brothers, and I believe that if he knows, he will be willing to help you," the monastery finally said the purpose of being brewed for a long time. "You don't have to worry about being punished, because you can travel in your own name, just send this letter to the Bishop as the deacon of the Church of Saint-Sebalon after arriving in Palermo."

"After that, what about adults," Ding Mu seemed a little moved. "Can I just travel with that businessman to find my parents?"

"Of course, you can make your own decisions by then, and this is the reward for sending you a letter."

The dean took out two slightly mixed colors from the table drawer and handed them to Ding Mu.

Just as he took the gold coins, Ding Mu was sure to hear the dean muttering to himself in a language he had half understood: "Come from the dust, and go back to the dust."

"Go and find your parents and family, and believe that God will guide you the way you should go," said Li Ding Mu, bowing at the door. When the door was closed, the dean slowly lifted up his sleeves, revealing a red and swollen arm cut by a sharp weapon.

On the morning of March 13, 1496, Ding Mu walked out of the Monastery of Saint-Sabalon.

Looking at the middle-aged man standing far away at the gate of the monastery, Ding Mu felt indelible suspicion.

He didn't believe that this man named Kuntuo was really a businessman, and he even doubted the authenticity of the name Kuntuo.

But now he is going to travel with this man.

In the name of not allowing personal belongings in the monastery, the dean ordered the confiscation of the pitiful things on Ding Mu, and he could only leave in Modilo's monk's robe.

When Ding Mu and Kuntuo completely disappeared into the morning mist, the monastery who stood in front of the window and watched them leave opened a thick diary and wrote a passage on it that was quoted by countless people many years later:
Chapter completed!