ITF Chapter111

After being captured, this was the first time Shao Yixiao had seen Luo Congye in person.

Contrary to his expectations, though the Urdan people had tied him up in this damp, cold, and gloomy dungeon, they had not subjected him to torture; they even brought him a little food and water every day.

Throughout this prolonged imprisonment, Shao Yixiao had been constantly reflecting on his actions. He knew he had made many mistakes, the greatest of which was that, four years ago, despite having captured this illegitimate son, he hadn’t taken his life directly.

If heaven were to give him another chance…

A familiar pheromone sharply snapped him out of his thoughts. He had harbored numerous conjectures about what was to come, but this scene was absolutely not among them.

*

Shao Cheng was escorted in by two Alphas. Shao Yixiao was initially shocked, but immediately lowered his head, actively avoiding eye contact with his father.

Although he had lost a lot of weight and his mouth was sealed with a cloth strip, there were no visible external injuries on his body. Shao Cheng surveyed the dungeon; a few common torture implements were displayed along the wall, but they were already covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Please, have a seat.”

The moment those words fell, Shao Cheng was pressed into a chair by the two Alphas escorting him. Straightening himself back up, he looked toward the person who had spoken.

The calm yet omnipresent tequila pheromones carried an invisible sense of oppression. He could no longer recall what the guard who followed Bai Heting four years ago looked like, but it was certain that if the young man back then had been anything like he was now, it would have been absolutely impossible to overlook him.

Luo Congye’s gaze was as sharp as a blade, yet his demeanor carried a composure that did not match his age. This felt somewhat familiar to Shao Cheng; it reminded him of Pei Ming in his youth.

He cut straight to the chase, saying, “I am here. Release my son.”

Having heard his opening remark, Luo Congye lowered his head again, his attention returning to his own hands once more.

“I demanded that Bai Jiashu hand over the culprit who framed the Marshal.” The carving knife drew a smooth curve upon the wooden hilt; his expression was intensely focused, yet his tone was somewhat casual. “Is General Shao confessing to the crime?”

Shao Cheng did not answer his question, only stating, “I have come under orders to negotiate for peace.”

It was fundamentally impossible for Bai Jiashu to clear Pei Ming’s name, as doing so would only make the Urdan rebellion completely righteous. Luo Congye was not surprised by his attitude. “Then Bai Jiashu sent you here to die.”

Yet, Shao Yixiao was clearly quite taken aback. Luo Congye glanced at him as well, amused by the look of utter disbelief on his face.

“Since that’s the case, why didn’t he just kill you directly?” He paused, letting out an understanding ‘Oh’, as if a realization had just struck him. “He wants me to be the executioner. That way, in the eyes of the ignorant public, I become the shameless rogue who murdered a peace envoy. He truly has thought everything through.”

Shao Cheng immediately shifted his opinion of this young man.

He was different from Pei Ming. Unlike Pei Ming, who had been sent for knight training since childhood, this young man still retained the innate wildness of the Urdan people.

“However, General Shao should understand,” Luo Congye straightened his posture, looking at him as he spoke, “if you do not reveal the truth of what happened back then to the world—” He slowed his pace, emphasizing every single word, “neither you nor your son should expect to walk out of here alive.”

“I cannot say itm” Shao Cheng answered with absolute certainty.

Luo Congye nodded, not pressing the matter further, only curling his lips in slight regret. “Then the two of you can only die in vain.”

“If I say it, my wife and daughter will be in danger.”

“That is an issue you and Bai Jiashu need to resolve between yourselves.”

Just as Luo Congye rose to leave, Shao Cheng lowered his voice a fraction, his attitude becoming even more sincere, “I have never allowed my wife and daughter to involve themselves in political affairs. They know nothing about Pei Ming’s matter; they are innocent.”

“Innocent?” That slight, polite smile from moments ago froze into ice in an instant. Luo Congye stared at him silently for a few seconds before questioning sharply, “Are you implying that my mother wasn’t innocent? That those unarmed Urdan civilians indiscriminately slaughtered by your son weren’t innocent?”

Shao Cheng made no attempt to argue, only stating, “Bai Jiashu has already lost. I know you won’t spare me or Yixiao, but my wife is kind by nature, and she will not pose any threat to you. If you despise those who indiscriminately slaughter the innocent, then you shouldn’t commit the very actions you disdain and let history repeat itself.”

This speech, entirely saturated with benevolence and morality, was just as amusing as Shao Yixiao’s thunderstruck expression, but Luo Congye did not laugh.

“General Shao, your expectations of my moral standards are far too high.” He stroked the half-finished knife hilt in his hand, his expression turning solemn. “Besides, I don’t need to do anything despicable at all. The moment they lose your protection; they will face nothing but ill fortunes. You aren’t begging me to spare them; you are begging me to protect them. Do you think your request is reasonable?”

Shao Cheng did not reply; he had not expected the Urdan people to agree to this request in the first place.

Yet, Luo Congye’s attitude suddenly took a turn—

“However… it’s not entirely impossible either.”

*

The room darkened bit by bit.

With his fingers interlaced and held against his chest, Wen Yan knelt on the icy stone floor.

This was a posture for prayer, yet he did not murmur any holy words but simply tilted his head to look up at the small window placed high above.

This was the only window in his room.

Of all times in a day, Wen Yan liked that brief moment right after noon the best. The golden sunlight would spill down through that narrow window, and as long as he knelt in this exact spot, he could bathe in the sunshine.

But it was dusk now.

Dusk was the moment Wen Yan loathed the most.

The moment the last trace of the setting sun’s residual glow vanished, the gates of hell would swing open.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

Separated only by a thin door panel, he could already hear the footsteps of the hellhound approaching.

*

“Your Holiness.”

Gradually roused by the soft voice of his attendant, Wen Yan raised his hand and drew aside the carriage curtain.

Perhaps because his complexion looked too terrible, An Li stood beside the carriage, speaking with even more caution than usual, “Your Holiness, we have arrived at the private residence.”

Wen Yan nodded at him, but An Li did not open the carriage door for him. A week earlier, the Holy See had received a confidential letter from General Shao, and two days after that, he set out northward together with Wen Yan. Looking up at Wen Yan in his white robes, he said with deep worry, “That letter might have been forged by someone else—”

“He wrote it.” Wen Yan waved his hand, cutting him off.

Handwriting was an easy thing to imitate, and An Li didn’t understand why he could be so certain.

“Do you mean…” he hesitated, “the Urdan people let him go?”

This question was a bit too naive. Wen Yan asked back, “Do you think that’s possible?”

After Shao Cheng headed to Urdan all by himself, no news regarding him or Shao Yixiao had made its way back from over there. Even An Li felt that the probability of the two of them still alive was infinitesimally small.

“General Shao shouldn’t have gone without telling you.” An Li said.

Wen Yan couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

It was only natural for Shao Cheng to keep him in the dark about going. Or rather, this was the single matter about which Shao Cheng would never seek his help.

That man’s mind was as clear as a mirror.

Bai Jiashu was merely using Shen Yao to blackmail him.

Whereas he would secretly bring about Shen Yao’s death.

“Open the door.” He urged once more.

An Li’s expression grew increasingly worried. He had diligently and conscientiously served His Holiness for ten whole years, yet he had to admit that he still couldn’t see through what the man was thinking. Grasping the door handle, he pulled the door open and assisted Wen Yan out of the carriage.

The small courtyard, having just endured the baptism of a harsh winter, appeared increasingly dilapidated under the descending twilight. Wen Yan looked toward the west.

“I hate dusk the most.” He murmured.

Before An Li could respond, he spoke again, “Go back.”

Seeing that he had finally changed his mind, An Li let out a massive sigh of relief. While responding with a “Yes,” he pulled the carriage door open for Wen Yan once again.

Yet, Wen Yan stood on the spot without moving a step. “I said, you go back.”

“Your Holiness?” An Li’s eyes widened in shock.

“The crown is about to change hands. But no matter who’s head it sits upon, that person will need the support of the Church.”

The sky darkened bit by bit.

The moment the last trace of the setting sun’s residual glow vanished, the gates of hell would swing open.

Wen Yan stared straight ahead. The light faded away, and that beautiful, sacred, almost immaculate face dissolved completely into the darkness. “You’ve worked hard during this time.”

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