Chapter Thirty-five: Florence

Mr. Awahid and Mr. Owali, businessmen holding Saudi Arabian tourist visas, boarded an Alitalia flight with the little Arab girl, Ram. In just two hours, they reached Rome, and by the time they transferred and arrived in Florence, it was already afternoon. As they stepped out of the airport, a fleet of luxury cars was waiting for them.

Florence, a significant city in central Italy, is a cultural metropolis with a long and storied history. It is not only the birthplace of the Italian Renaissance but also a cradle of European culture and a world-renowned tourist destination. Florence is sometimes referred to by the poetic name “Fiorenza,” which in Italian means “City of Flowers.” However, the city’s palette is not truly emerald green like jade; rather, its most characteristic scene consists of blue skies and white clouds under the sun, brightly colored walls, dark green shutters, and deep red rooftops—these are the city’s signature hues. Florence takes pride in its football club; although the team’s history is not long, its achievements are a source of local pride.

It was the first time Owali and Ram had traveled abroad, and both were visibly excited. They peered out from the car windows as the convoy passed ancient, medieval-style buildings and houses with pointed roofs. Towering windmills, like giants, appeared along the roadside. To Liu Yunfei, it felt like a fairy-tale world. Eventually, the convoy arrived at a hilltop castle on Florence’s northern outskirts—an edifice straight out of the age of knights.

The castle was surrounded by towering stone walls, punctuated every few steps by small, spired turrets. Banners fluttered from the turrets, but these were not rectangular; instead, they were long, thick streamers, twisting in the wind like giant serpents or the stockings of a giant.

The castle sprawled across the mountaintop, fully equipped with all manner of facilities. Though the old king had not yet remodeled the interior, it was evident that the previous owner had cherished it. Aside from some modern appliances, the castle maintained a thoroughly classical, medieval style inside and out. Despite its size, there were surprisingly few servants—five men and five women, all elderly, along with a gardener and two drivers. All these people were managed by a local butler, an old man who had served three generations of the castle’s owners.

Liu Yunfei’s quarters were one of the main suites, consisting of several rooms: a study, a small parlor, a bedroom, a bar, and a balcony. There was a classical fireplace, walnut wood floors beloved by Italians, a large brass bed, Western swords and sabers adorning the walls, and a portrait of the first lord of the castle.

“I’ve heard the famous Leaning Tower of Pisa is not far from here, in the city of Pisa. Let’s rest well today, and tomorrow morning we’ll go for a visit,” Liu Yunfei said, having already researched nearby attractions on his laptop during the flight.

“Oh, great!” cried Owali. Though a noble little prince, he was still young and rarely traveled, so his enthusiasm bubbled over. The little girl Ram’s eyes shone with anticipation.

The Leaning Tower of Pisa stands on the Piazza dei Miracoli on the north side of Pisa, just a two-hour drive from the knight’s castle. The square includes the cathedral, baptistery, bell tower, and cemetery; the bell tower is the world-famous Leaning Tower. All are faced with milky-white marble, maintaining an independent yet unified Romanesque style. The Leaning Tower was begun in 1173, but soon after work started, it began to tilt due to an uneven foundation and soft soil.

Legend has it that Galileo, the renowned physicist born in Pisa in 1564, conducted his famous experiments on free fall from the Leaning Tower, bringing it global fame.

Regrettably, Liu Yunfei and his companions were unable to enter the site that day. When they arrived at the Piazza dei Miracoli, they found it occupied by Italian police. Police cars were parked everywhere beneath the Tower, and a row of officers in black uniforms and round hats stood guard. The cemetery beside the Tower had been cordoned off with yellow tape.

Standing beneath the majestic Leaning Tower with his two little followers trailing behind, Liu Yunfei asked, “Can we go in and have a look?”

“Oh, no. To prevent further tilting, tourists have been banned from entering the Tower for many years,” the butler, Lexi, explained.

“What a disappointment. We can’t enter the Tower, and now something’s happened at the cemetery. Owali, Ram, let’s just take a look from a distance,” Liu Yunfei said.

The cemetery was a rectangular building with no windows on the ground floor, making one wonder if it was modeled after a coffin. Its main entrance was imposing, at least three stories tall from the outside, yet inside there was but a single level. Strictly speaking, it was a Christian chapel, differing from a church in that it had a vast graveyard behind it. Inside, the cemetery was in disarray—tables, chairs, and candlesticks lay strewn about, chandeliers were draped with cobwebs, and bats hung upside down in the shadows. “Is this really a world-famous tourist destination? Doesn’t anyone maintain it?” Liu Yunfei was shocked by the filth and disorder.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t like this when I visited recently,” Lexi said, equally surprised.

As they were about to leave, they saw a corpse, shrouded in white cloth, being carried out on a stretcher by the police. The body and face were covered by the sheet, but an arm dangling to one side of the stretcher was so ghastly pale and withered, it looked like a chicken’s claw—perhaps the deceased was a very old person.

Locals gathered around, chattering in Italian. Liu Yunfei was about to leave, but Lexi, despite his age, was quite the gossip and spent a long time chatting with the crowd.

At last, when he’d satisfied his curiosity, the group went to a venerable old restaurant in the center of Pisa. The city itself was not large, its architecture all in the ancient Roman style. The restaurant, with a hundred years of history, specialized in traditional Italian fare and was extremely popular—though it was just noon, every table was filled.

While they waited for their food, the old gossip shared the news he’d gathered. “Do you know who died today? It was a policeman on duty there last night. I heard several others have died recently—three pairs of lovers, apparently. The police couldn’t find the cause, so they sealed off the cemetery, which is why it’s so messy; no one’s been cleaning it. And now, this morning, a policeman was found dead. Witnesses say the corpse was terrifying, as if it had been dead for ages, all dried up.”

“Just one policeman? That hand didn’t look young,” Liu Yunfei mused, still thinking of the ghastly hand.

“I saw it too, Master. That’s what makes it so frightening—a healthy person turned into that,” Lexi replied, his sharp eyes wasted on not being a tabloid reporter.

Could it be a vampire? The thought struck Liu Yunfei. He had never seen a corpse drained by a vampire, but he thought of Henry, and naturally, of the bats hanging in the shadows of the cemetery’s ceiling. But vampires usually have plenty of willing donors and don’t drain ordinary people, let alone kill so many at once; otherwise, the existence of vampire families wouldn’t have remained secret for centuries.

The meal passed in contemplation—Liu Yunfei barely tasted a thing, his mind preoccupied. That afternoon, his thoughts wandered through their sightseeing, and when they returned to the knight’s castle that evening, he decided to investigate. It had nothing to do with him, but since he had the ability, he felt compelled to help these innocent people—and perhaps, he might even hear news of Henry.

That night, he returned to the Leaning Tower’s cemetery. He didn’t transform into a fly or a bug, fearing he’d be eaten by bats, so instead, he took on the form of a bat himself. The police had all left, perhaps truly afraid of suffering the same fate as last night’s officer. In the place where he’d seen bats that morning, nothing seemed out of the ordinary; every room lay empty.

“Was I mistaken? Not all bats are vampires, after all. Or perhaps they’ve gone out for the night?” Liu Yunfei muttered to himself.