ITF Chapter120

The King had committed suicide by self-immolation within the Royal Chapel, and the Queen had tragically died of a difficult labor. Before the citizens could even recover their senses from these sudden turn of events, Chief Justice Zheng Yunshang abruptly announced that the court had received a genuine and reliable confession, and upon investigation, Marshal Pei had never engaged in any treasonous collusion with the enemy all those years ago, but had in fact been framed by his subordinate, Shao Cheng.

The long-buried case of Pei Ming was officially overturned, and the Queen’s father turned out to be the ultimate culprit who framed the Marshal. A massive uproar instantly broke out among the common people, and the furious populace immediately pushed the surviving royal daughter into the eye of the storm.

Inheritance by the eldest son was inherently a matter of course; even the Ximo Kingdom had no historical precedent of an eldest daughter inheriting the throne. Furthermore, this was a descendant of the Shao family. Another petitioning activity erupted in front of the city hall, and the people agreed unanimously to send this baby girl, who brought disgrace upon the royal lineage, into a monastery, forcing her to repent and atone for the sins committed by her mother’s family for the rest of her life.

Although the court did not release the full contents of the confession, the rumor that Bai Heting was the late king’s legitimate eldest son born of wedlock had already spread like wildfire. The people took it upon themselves to add many imaginative elements to that royal romance, the truth of which no one could reconstruct anymore. Some said that back then, Lin Yuerong had used underhanded methods to forcibly tear apart the late king and Bai Heting’s mother. Others said that the late king bringing Bai Heting back to the capital and bestowing a peerage upon him was originally preparation made so that he could restore his status as the eldest son one day.

The Holy See had not yet spoken, but relying solely on these groundless rumors, Bai Heting already possessed a considerable number of supporters among the common people.

Unlike the commoner class, the aristocracy was not interested in the details of the late king’s private affairs. They only cared about whose head that crown would ultimately sit upon. Bai Heting held the royal daughter hostage as a pawn and possessed the armed support of grand nobles like Zhong Maoru; the nobles generally believed that a regency was merely Bai Heting’s temporary measure, and once the Holy See recognized his right of succession, his little niece, who knew nothing but how to wail, would quietly vanish from this world.

In short, no one expected this baby girl, who had lost the protection of her biological parents, to live until the day of her coronation ceremony.

“Is the room to your liking?” Bai Heting sat behind an ebony desk. Seeing Jiang Han arrive, he placed the sheets of paper in his hand back onto the desk and told him, “Bear with it here for now. Once the situation stabilizes a bit, I’ll have someone send you back to your residence over by the medical school.”

“There’s no rush.” Jiang Han said.

More than half a month had passed since the revolutionary army stormed the palace, and today he had just accompanied Bai Heting in moving out of the royal palace and back into the General’s Mansion. This place had been left abandoned ever since Bai Heting “passed away.” A week ago, Su Xingchuan led a team of servants back here, causing this mansion covered in dust and cobwebs to once again restore its appearance from four years ago.

Jiang Han walked a few steps closer, only then discovering that what Bai Heting was looking at was actually not a document, but several sheets of paper with his own name written on them. The handwriting on the paper was quite childish, clearly not Bai Heting’s handiwork.

He asked curiously, “Who wrote this?”

Aside from these few sheets of paper, some items that Bai Heting had brought back from Luo Congye’s room four years ago were also scattered across the desk. These items had originally been kept neat and tidy inside a wooden box by Bai Heting, but now someone had rifled through them.

The pearl was gone too.

However, this scene gave Bai Heting a sense of deja vu. He placed the items back into the wooden box one by one. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “The room where Bei Chengzhou used to stay is currently being occupied by Bei Yang. If you want that one, I can have him move out and swap with you.”

Jiang Han smiled politely, “There is no need to trouble you.”

“It is no trouble,” Bai Heting said. “That boy is leaving very soon anyway. Besides, that room was originally prepared for the mansion’s physician, so it would also make it convenient for you to—”

Without waiting for him to finish, Jiang Han asked in surprise, “Where is he going?”

Bai Heting found this surprising as well, “He didn’t tell you?”

“We aren’t actually that close.” Only then did Jiang Han realize his gaffe. Clasping his hands together, he rubbed the back of his left hand with his right thumb, saying awkwardly, “It’s nothing, I was just asking casually.”

Bei Yang had been severely wounded during the Battle of Lakr Urdan, and throughout that period, he had been under Jiang Han’s personal and close care.

This made the phrase “not that close” rather intriguing.

A look of scrutiny appeared in Bai Heting’s eyes, prompting Jiang Han to hurriedly change the subject, “You must take care of your health and not overwork yourself. Marching with the army for half a year already drains one’s vital energy and blood, and lately you’ve been working without rest. Exerting your energy like this will not do.”

The moment he brought this up, Bai Heting only felt a headache coming on. These past few days he had been busy establishing the council with endless meetings to attend every day, countless people to see, and a never-ending stack of documents to review and sign. On top of that, there were the relentless petitioning riots among the populace as well. Forgetting having time to sleep, he didn’t even have the time to sit down and eat a quiet meal.

“The ones facing an even greater headache are the Church. They surely never imagined that the scales of leverage would tilt in the blink of an eye.” Bai Heting leaned back against the chair and scoffed lightly, “How many of the citizens supporting me do you think are genuinely crying out against the injustice done to Marshal Pei?” He shook his head, “They simply hope that the person sitting on the throne remains a man, even if that man is an Omega. What these people are defending is not Marshal Pei, nor me, nor some concept of good and evil being rewarded; it is their system of succession.”

“That throne,” Jiang Han paused, “will you sit upon it?”

This question was highly sensitive and even somewhat offensive, but it struck right at the core of the matter. Bai Heting did not give a direct answer, merely stating, “Her father didn’t just give her royal blood; he also left her an utter mess. The road ahead of her in the future will not be easy to walk.”

Jiang Han pointed out incisively, “He clearly left the utter mess to you.” However, he did not continue to trouble Bai Heting with this matter and changed to a different question, “Where is Luo Congye? We didn’t seem to see him in the courtyard when we came back.”

Luo Congye had not stayed in the royal palace with them, and Jiang Han had all along assumed he would be waiting for Bai Heting’s return at the General’s Mansion. Yet during the evening, he hadn’t seen Luo Congye among the crowd welcoming Bai Heting back at all.

Bai Heting let out a barely audible sigh.

“It’s not surprising. It’s not the first time,” he closed the lid of the wooden box, having no intention of discussing these troublesome matters further. “It’s late, go back to your room and rest.”

After saying this, and without waiting for Jiang Han to speak, he abruptly added another sentence, “Bei Yang leaves in three days.”

The candlelight flickered as warm steam drifted through the room. Standing in the bathroom doorway, Bai Heting froze for a moment before demanding irritably, “Not only are you sleeping in my bedroom, you’re using my bathroom too?”

With his back resting against the smooth marble pool, Luo Congye had one hand draped over the white crane statue at the edge of the bath, gently stroking its snowy wings. “The Lord Protector is fully occupied with a myriad of state affairs,” he asked lazily. “How did you find the time to come back today?”

Ever since the two of them parted on bad terms in the royal palace, they hadn’t seen each other for more than half a month. Bai Heting closed the door behind him and said solemnly, “I have something to discuss with you.”

“Please, speak.” Luo Congye didn’t even open his eyes.

“You used to handle the domestic arms trade; you must know quite a few merchants, don’t you?” Bai Heting walked to the edge of the bath and spoke to him in a serious, matter-of-fact tone, “I want to establish a Commerce Department under the council, parallel to the Revenue Department. For its members, I want to select some reliable and powerful merchants.”

Luo Congye reminded him, “If you let merchants sit on equal terms with nobility, those noble lords will cause a massive uproar.”

“As long as it doesn’t harm their immediate interests, they won’t even bother to care,” Bai Heting said as he untied his sash. “Only by letting merchants participate in state decisions will they willingly open their purses and pour their money out.”

He didn’t make the slightest effort to hide his true intentions. Luo Congye felt somewhat speechless, “After all this, it turns out you’re plotting to get your hands on our money?”

“It’s merely a matter of each taking what they need. The state treasury is heavily burdened with debt; if it stays that way, we will inevitably be manipulated by others,” Bai Heting said. “I will grant them power, and I will grant them social status. Furthermore, for the Minister of Commerce; I need you to take that seat.”

He spoke very rapidly, sentence after sentence, as if rushing through a schedule. The more Luo Congye listened, the more uneasy and disgruntled he felt. He lifted his head to look at him, “You came back just to tell me this?”

“There is one more thing.” Bai Heting’s speaking speed finally returned to normal. He lowered his head to meet Luo Congye’s gaze, telling him earnestly, “My heat is coming.”

Luo Congye opened his mouth but stopped himself.

He felt even more disgruntled now.

“Physician Jiang will prepare the suppressants for you.” He said as he attempted to rise from the water, only to be forcefully pressed by the shoulders and pushed back down into the pool.

Stepping into the bath, Bai Heting trapped him with his arms between the wall of the pool and his own chest, a clear look of anger appearing on his face, “I told you to kill her, yet you wouldn’t do it yourself, and now you’re taking your temper out on my head?”

Luo Congye was splashed with a face full of water. He raised a hand to wipe it away, his expression darkening in turn, “You know perfectly well I couldn’t bring myself to lay a hand on a child.”

“A child?” Bai Heting sneered. “I delivered Shao Yixiao into your hands, yet I didn’t see you touch a single hair on his head too. Even if I had prepared the torture instruments for you in advance, you still would have taken Bai Jiashu’s life with a single strike. That is just the kind of person you are.” He extended a finger and poked Luo Congye’s firm chest forcefully a couple of times. “You; right here, it’s far too soft.”

The moment the words left his mouth, a pair of hands suddenly clamped around his waist. Gripping him tightly, those hands pulled him down without any rhyme or reason—

Luo Congye tilted his head back, his nose nearly brushing against Bai Heting’s, his hot, scalding breath brushing over his face.

“Where is it soft?” He demanded.

Bai Heting sat firmly and squarely upon Luo Congye’s lap. He didn’t reply, but his breathing fell into disarray.

It certainly wasn’t soft.

Not only was it not soft, but it was also terrifyingly hard as well.

He still had a white short shirt that he hadn’t managed to strip off completely on, the fabric swaying gently along with the movement of the water. Luo Congye aggressively massaged his waist a few times, “Your heart is hard, but I haven’t seen you inflict torture on anyone either.” His voice paused slightly before he forcefully corrected himself, “That may be true when it comes to other people. But when it comes to sticking a blade in me, you seem proficient enough.”

Having said that, he carefully caressed Bai Heting’s waist back and forth a few times, his voice dropping slightly, though his tone remained stubborn and rigid, “You’ve lost weight.”

Bai Heting lowered his head and looked toward his chest.

There lay row upon row of old scars from blades, some long, some short, some deep, and some shallow. Pressing a finger against one of them, he lowered his head a little further, his lips brushing that scar in a gesture almost like a kiss.

“Did it hurt? Back then.” He asked in a low voice.

With him enticing him like this, Luo Congye’s mind was entirely consumed by the sheer itch of the present moment; how could he possibly recall the pain of the past? He slid his hands from Bai Heting’s waist up to his chest, letting out a sighing lament, “Kiss me one more time, and I’ll tell you.”

Bai Heting didn’t want to humor his teasing, but he felt immensely comfortable under Luo Congye’s touch, so he simply rested his chin on his shoulder and allowed himself to be attended to.

“I don’t like torturing people,” he said with his eyes closed. “My mother died a tragic death, so I prefer to let people die quickly. Slitting the throat is the quickest way.”

Luo Congye’s hands suddenly halted their movements, but Bai Heting’s voice did not stop, “You’ve never lived in the slums, so you probably don’t know how many abandoned infant corpses are in the garbage heaps every single day.” His tone was flat, speaking in a narrative manner, “The late king failed my mother; my mother hated him, and I know he hated me too. That’s why I could never figure out why he insisted on keeping me by his side.”

Having said this, he fell silent for a brief moment.

“That day, I seemed to have found the answer. And, just like him,” he said in a casual, nonchalant manner, “I begged too.”

Luo Congye abruptly tightened his arms.

Begged. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Bai Heting would look like begging someone.

“You won’t torture your enemies, nor will you vent your anger on innocent people,” Bai Heting said softly with his hands lightly encircling Luo Congye’s back. “Because you are nobler than them.”

Luo Congye’s voice sounded muffled, “Don’t flatter me with high praise, I’m not as magnanimous and generous as you.”

Magnanimous and generous, this was the very first time Bai Heting had heard someone evaluate him this way, and he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I helped that child onto the throne mainly out of political considerations,” he explained. “I am the late king’s son, so naturally, I am just like him, weighing the pros and cons before everything else.”

Luo Congye did not respond immediately.

The person he was holding in his arms; the rest of the world could only see his outer shell, which was harder than diamonds. They called him cold and ruthless, they called him arrogant and insolent, they called him iron hearted.

Yet, Luo Congye knew.

And he had touched it too.

Beneath this indestructible outer shell lay a heart wrapped inside that was softer than a feather.

“Before saving me, did you weigh the pros and cons?” He asked in a hoarse voice.

Bai Heting let out a heavy sigh right next to his ear.

“You are an exception,” he said helplessly yet frankly. “You are the exception in my life.”