CHAPTER 2 #5
The Old Testament was originally the story of the Jewish people, the history of the founding of Israel.
Judaism gave rise to Christianity and Eastern Orthodoxy, and countless sects continued to grow and intertwine throughout history.
From the Christian perspective, it was Judas, one of Jesus’ twelve disciples, who betrayed him, and it was the Jews who crucified him.
The two peoples, as a result, have been in conflict ever since.
She watched the parted Red Sea, the fleeing Israelites, and Moses walking with his staff, and a deep stillness overcame her.
In her previous life, since the start of World War II, she had spent many years in the United States under a different name, hiding from the dangers of Nazi Germany.
She carried the blood of the Hebrews, and once she returned to Austria, it was likely that the Nazis would capture her, and she would disappear without a trace. Her lineage and family history had become an unspoken secret.
In her previous life, she had had two children, though they never learned of Passover or Hanukkah. Many childhood memories spent with her parents were deliberately forgotten, as if they had never existed.
As the paint dried in the night wind, the once faint sea now seemed imbued with life.
The colors deepened and layered, even shimmering with the glimmer of waves in the candlelight.
The moonlit ripples, like a spider’s web, stretched between the towering waves as the people hurried through the sea, witnessing Jehovah’s miracle with Moses as they fled through the deep waters.
Hedy had lost track of how long she had been standing behind him, watching the painting in silence, lost in her thoughts.
In this life, everything connected to being Jewish had become an unspoken taboo.
Staying alive was what mattered most. Nothing was more important than that.
Da Vinci’s procrastination continued, but now, with this jar of egg tempera, he painted with an ease he had never known before.
Ultramarine was as expensive as gold, and grinding it into powder would only be enough to paint the edges of the sky.
But today, he was using the pigment with freedom, unconstrained.
He wasn’t trying to perfect the human body tonight.
Instead, he softened the details of the figures, choosing to use broad, sweeping strokes to create towering waves, and at the far end of the journey, he added a sunset that glowed like holy light.
Hedy withdrew from her thoughts, sitting beside him, helping him wash his brushes in warm water, offering a contented smile.
The Renaissance was a time of awakening for humanity.
Paintings from the Middle Ages had mostly depicted the stories of gods. But the Renaissance waves brought about a shift, and the hearts of many once cloaked in ignorance began to yearn for the reality of human nature, seeking the most simple of human desires.
She had heard the people of Florence speak of the Medici family, who spent large sums commissioning Botticelli to paint numerous large murals. He had even included the faces of family members in depictions of gods.
Humans, by nature, were meant to have value and dignity—not just to be worshippers of gods.
The world seemed calm, ordinary, one day after another without any wind or rain. But even in this painting, one could see that some deeply ingrained beliefs were beginning to crumble and change.
“Still here?” Da Vinci snapped out of his thoughts, surprised. “It’s already late. Why don’t you go rest?”
“It’s fine. I’ll stay here with you.” Hedy gave a polite smile and stood up. “Dinner’s been reheated twice, but you didn’t have time. Would you like some now?”
“Just some dry bread will do,” Da Vinci rubbed his forehead, gazing at the oil painting. “If I keep going for another couple of hours, I should be able to finish.”
He grabbed a spatula and began to refine the texture of the waves, making them more distinct. Then, he started working on the horizon line.
Hedy brought over some black bread and asked curiously, "Where do you plan to hang this painting?"
"Hang it?" Leonardo Da Vinci quickly ate a little, sipped some wine, and said, "Of course, to sell it at a good price."
...That makes sense.
"Tomorrow, I’ll buy some beef, and I’ll also stop by the apothecary to discuss the matter with the shopkeeper about this stone." Da Vinci said halfway through, noticing her still looking at the painting. He glanced at it and asked, "Do you think it's good?"
"It's painted very well," Hedy suddenly thought of something and added, "It's more grand than Mr. Botticelli’s work."
Someone raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased with the compliment.
"I've always thought," Da Vinci wiped some bread crumbs off, looking at the sunset on the painting, "the Earth is not the center of the universe."
The maid, preparing to clear the dinner, raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"What did you say?"
"Is it too rebellious?" He looked at the painting, "I think the sun isn't revolving around the Earth."
Hedy thought she must have misheard, and looked at him, "How did you come to this conclusion?"
"I've been wondering, is the sky bigger, or is the Earth bigger?" He grew serious and said, "Clearly, the sky is bigger, but every day the night and day cycle, does that mean the sky is revolving around the Earth?"
That’s because the Earth is rotating.
But if you keep going, if others overhear, you might be considered a heretic and be burned at the stake.
"You’d better not speak of this too casually," she whispered, "since there's no evidence."
Upon hearing her advice, Da Vinci showed a slight hint of disappointment but still wanted to continue.
"I often wonder, why do things fall to the ground when you let them go? Why doesn’t the moon shine during the day?" He pulled out a roll of his manuscript and thoughtfully said, "If these things could be figured out, maybe everything else could slowly be solved as well."
Hedy almost thought he was a time traveler himself. She tapped the wooden board with the Red Sea painted on it and said, "You’d better finish the painting first. The egg tempera will dry soon."
"Ah? Right, almost forgot..."
Hedy finished cleaning the kitchen and decided to go back to her room to rest.
As usual, she checked if anything had been moved in the room and then went to look at the glass dish in the corner of the wall.
On the small orange peel, a large patch of white-green mold had already spread across.
This is—
Hedy stood frozen for a moment, covering her mouth, unsure of what to do next.
The orange peel had indeed developed a large patch of mold, but what should she do now?
As someone who was half Austrian and half American, Hedy's life history was quite closely linked to penicillin.
She was born in 1914, and at the age of 20, she fled to Britain alone, then later chose to move to the United States to pursue her career.
At 24, a young Jewish refugee also escaped to Britain. He discovered outdated research papers on penicillin and began collaborating with scientist Chain to study its cultivation and purification process.
By 1940, after completing toxicology tests, the two sought help in the United States to mass-produce the antibiotic.
By the time Hedy turned 30, the technique had been widely used in the U.S., and the issue of infected wounds during the war could finally be addressed at an incredibly low cost.
But the problem now was, first, she couldn’t confirm whether the colony contained penicillin, and second, without knowing if it even existed, she couldn’t extract it.
Hedy had spent many years in the U.S. and read many reports in the newspapers, knowing that the substance had originally been found in mold on orange peels.
She tried to recall whatever little biological knowledge she had and wondered what the next step should be.
Since penicillin was known to treat infected wounds, it would be effective against Staphylococcus aureus.
If she could prepare a proper culture medium and run an experiment to quickly confirm it, it should make things much easier.
After thinking for a long time, she decided to get a good night’s sleep.
After all, tomorrow she’d be able to eat meat.
The next morning, Da Vinci took her to the butcher's shop.
The butchers were busy at work, and fresh meat and offal were displayed in front of the shop.
Farmers and lower-class people in Florence only had fish to eat, and how often they could have meat depended entirely on luck.
The upper-class nobles, on the other hand, preferred foods like swans, turkeys, and rabbits. A single feast would waste enough exquisite delicacies to feed an entire village.
Additionally, beef had been steadily rising in status.
In the Middle Ages, beef was considered a low-quality food reserved for the lower classes.
But now, the right to slaughter calves was viewed as a symbol of wealth and prestige, and nobles had a particular fondness for tender beef.
Once a calf aged and became heavy and clumsy, its price dropped significantly.
Right now, the shop smelled strongly of blood as the butcher weighed silver coins and haggled with a nearby customer.
Hedy, carrying a small basket, followed Da Vinci around for a while, noticing many strange things on display, including not just eyes and tongues, but also livers, intestines, and kidneys.
—Had people from this era lost their minds, actually eating beef organs?
"This is beef pancreas," Da Vinci said, completely unbothered, as he skillfully picked it out, "It tastes quite good. Want to try?"
No! I absolutely won't eat organs!
Barbarians!
Seeing her pale face, Da Vinci furrowed his brow slightly and, with a hint of regret, put the pancreas down. He pointed to the beef stomach next to it. "What about this?"
Hedy quickly shook her head. "Just some beef will do. We can go home and make a stew."
"Hmm," Da Vinci said noncommittally, but his eyes suddenly fixed on the beef gallbladder nearby.