Chapter 2 Chapter One

On the high steps of the Great Pyramid in Giza Province, Egypt, a young woman laughs at the man below and shouts, "Hurry up, Robert! I know I should have married a young man long ago. "The girl looked charming. Robert tried to keep up with her, but his legs felt leaden. "Wait a minute!" He begged for mercy, "Can you..." Robert's vision began to blur as he climbed up.At this time, a thunderous sound came from the ear.I have to catch up with her!But when he looked up again, his girlfriend was gone.Standing there was an old man with yellow teeth.The old man stared at Robert at the bottom of the steps with a pair of round eyes, his face full of ferocity.At this time, Robert cried out in pain, and his voice echoed over the desert.

With a movement of his body, Robert Langdon woke up from the nightmare.The phone beside him was still ringing, and he grabbed the receiver in a daze. "Which one?" "Robert Langdon, please," said a man's voice. Langdon sat up from the quilt, and said calmly, "I...is Robert Langdon." He glanced at his electronic clock, it was 5:18 in the morning. "I have to see you right away." "Who are you?" "My name is Maximilian Kohler, and I'm a discrete particle physicist." "What is it?" Langdon still couldn't recover, "Are you sure you're looking for me, Langdon?"

"You're a professor of religious icons at Harvard, you have three monographs on semiotic studies, and..." "Do you know what time it is?" "I'm sorry. I have something you need to see. It's not convenient to talk to you on the phone." Langdon couldn't help but sighed, and suddenly became displeased.This kind of thing has happened before.It's all because of his books on religious symbols, a call from a few religious zealots asking him to verify a symbol they recently got from God, and a call from Oklahoma One of the horse's paint-removal maids had promised Langdon that if he'd fly down south and fly over to identify the crucifix that had magically appeared on her bed sheet, she'd give him sex he'd never forget.That's the shroud.Langdon replied at the time.

"How did you get my phone number?" Langdon tried to be polite, even though the call came at an inopportune time. "On the World Wide Web, in your writings." Langdon immediately blushed.He's so damn clear, he never put his home phone number in the book.This guy is clearly lying. "I need to see you." The man was very persistent, "I won't treat you badly." Langdon was going crazy. "I'm sorry, but I did—" "If you start at once, you'll get here in about—" "I'm not going anywhere! It's only five o'clock in the morning." Langdon hung up the phone and collapsed on the bed.He closed his eyes and tried to sleep for a while, but couldn't.The dream just now was deeply engraved in his mind.Helpless, he had no choice but to put on his pajamas and go downstairs.

Robert Langdon paces barefoot in his Victorian home in Massachusetts, Slowly drinking a large cup of steaming Nestle Sleeping Liquid, this is his usual way to treat insomnia.The April moonlight shone through the bay window on the rich rug.Langdon's colleagues often joked that his home looked like an anthropological museum rather than a home.The bookshelves are filled with religious artefacts from around the world—an ekuba from Ghana, a gold cross from Spain, a statue from the Cyclades in the Aegean Sea, and, even rarer, There is a woven box from Borneo, a symbol of eternal youth for a young warrior.

Langdon sat on his own brass-like chest, sipping a warm hot chocolate, his shadow reflected in the bay window.The image was distorted and pale... like a ghost.A ghost growing old, he thought, and the image grimly reminded him of his young mind inhabiting a mortal shell. Although Langdon can't be regarded as a gentleman in the standard sense, in the eyes of his female colleagues, the forty-five-year-old him is quite charming. He has thick brown hair with silver strands in it, and a pair of Inquiring blue eyes, a deep, magnetic voice, and the passionate, carefree smile of a college athlete.Langdon had been a diver in prep school and college, so to this day he still had the muscular build of a swimmer, a solid six-footer, the result of fifty laps a day in the school pool. The result of meticulous maintenance.

Langdon's friends always regarded him as an enigmatic figure—a genius of a century.Every weekend, people can always see him wandering between the school's square yards in blue jeans, discussing computer graphics problems or religious history with students; At the museum's entrance, one can also find him appearing in high-end art magazines wearing a Helles tweed coat and a Scottish paisley waistcoat. Despite his rigor and meticulousness in teaching, Langdon was the first to embrace what he hailed as "a noble, unadorned lost art."He participated in all kinds of entertainment activities with an infectious enthusiasm, and he even established a brotherly friendship with the college students.He was nicknamed "The Dolphin" on campus because of his friendly nature, amazing diving ability and impressive record of winning water polo games.

Langdon sat alone, staring absently into the night.At this time, a piercing sound broke the tranquility of the room again, this time it was the ringing of a fax machine.Langdon couldn't afford to lose his temper now, so he smiled resignedly.O people of God!he thought to himself.I have been looking forward to it for two thousand years, and I am still so persistent. Langdon lazily returned the empty glass in his hand to the kitchen, and walked slowly into the oak-paneled study.The documents sent by the fax machine are placed on that tray.Langdon couldn't help sighing, picked up the paper and looked at it.

Suddenly, he felt sick. There was a photo of a dead body printed on the paper.The corpse was stripped of its clothes, its head was turned away, and its entire face was turned backwards.On the chest of the deceased was a terrible burn.The man was branded... just one word.Langdon was all too familiar with the word.Very familiar.He stared suspiciously at the very elegant lettering with wide-eyed eyes. "Illuminati," he stammered, his heart pounding.This can't be... Terrified of what he was about to see, Langdon carefully turned the fax 180 degrees and read it backwards. Langdon was momentarily taken out of breath, as if he had been hit hard.He couldn't believe his eyes, so he spun the fax again, looked at it straight up, and upside down.

"Illuminati," he whispered. Langdon, dumbfounded, slumped down in his chair.He sat in a daze for a long time as if in a fog.The blinking red light on the fax machine finally caught his attention. Obviously, the person sending the fax wanted to talk to him.Langdon stared at the blinking lights for a long time. Finally, tremblingly, he picked up the receiver.

---

Notes: