ITF Chapter118

Once again, to everyone’s surprise, what marked the beginning of the siege of the city was not artillery fire, but a letter.

On the first day of May, an archer shot a letter into the city using a longbow. Written in gentle phrasing, the letter expressed the Urdan people’s desire to avoid bloodshed and their hope for peace talks with the king.

Almost no one in the capital questioned the sincerity of this letter. Although the attacking side would have to pay a heavier price, out of the defending army of nearly ten thousand men, those actively preparing for battle probably didn’t even amount to a third. From the city walls, the defenders could clearly see that the capital had already been encircled by a perfectly uniform line of massive cannons, and behind those cannons stood a dense, dark mass of armed soldiers.

The full contents of the letter quickly spread among the common people, who spontaneously gathered at the entrance of the city hall, demanding that the king agree to the Urdan people’s request for peace talks. The petitioning activity rapidly escalated into a demonstration and riot, and the Royal Guard had to arrest nearly a hundred people at the city hall entrance before this intensifying farce was finally quieted down.

A week later, having still failed to receive a reply from the king, the Urdan Revolutionary Army launched a general offensive against the capital’s defensive lines.

*

A routine prayer ceremony was underway inside the Royal Chapel.

The sound of artillery fire had stopped two hours ago. This represented two possibilities—either the city gates had been breached, or the Urdan people had halted their attack. Everyone present understood that the likelihood of the latter was miniscule. The sounds of fighting and slaughter echoing through the long corridors further confirmed this. The attendants stood behind the king, trembling with fear and not daring to make a sound; the person they served was not a tyrant, but at such a critical moment, his unusual calmness was instead more terrifying than a furious rage.

After a while longer, the sounds of fighting also ceased. A holy sacrament was being conducted in the chapel, yet someone pushed the doors open and entered without any reservation whatsoever. A chaotic mix of pheromones wrapped in the stench of blood flooded in overwhelmingly, and Bai Jiashu almost thought he could hear the shivering sounds of the attendants.

“Interrupting a holy sacrament will bring divine punishment.” He stood up, meticulously arranging his long robe, and only then turned around slowly to see that familiar face he hadn’t seen in four years. “Long time no see.” His gaze moved from Bai Heting’s face to his blood-stained light armor, and he smiled as he exchanged pleasantries, “You don’t seem to have changed much. When we parted, you were covered in blood, and now that we meet again, you are still covered in blood. What a coincidence.”

Luo Congye’s expression instantly darkened, but he was held back by a hand pressed onto his shoulder from behind by Bai Heting. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to maintain his composure and scanned the chapel.

There wasn’t a single armed guard here. The only weapon was fastened to Bai Jiashu’s waist, the pigeon-blood ruby on the hilt dazzling brilliantly in the candlelight.

Luo Congye recognized this dagger; back then, he had personally handed this very dagger over to Bai Jiashu. It was a gift from Bai Heting to Bai Jiashu.

“Living together with those lowly people, you too have become an untrustworthy person,” Bai Jiashu said to Bai Heting, acting as if he couldn’t see the tall man standing at the very front. “We had an agreement: as long as I handed over the culprit who framed Pei Ming, you would let Shao Yixiao go? Where is he?”

No one answered his question.

Luo Congye said coldly, “It’s too late for prayers now.”

Only then did Bai Jiashu glance at him. This lowly-born bastard was actually the very person Bai Heting claimed was ten thousand times better than him.

“I wasn’t speaking to you.” He shifted his gaze away once more.

“You aren’t qualified to speak to him.” Luo Congye took a step to the side, blocking his line of sight completely.

Bai Heting did not participate in their dispute, merely saying to the attendants kneeling and prostrating on the floor, “All of you, dismiss.”

Having received the order, those people did not dare delay for a single moment, scrambling to run out of the room. Bai Jiashu let out a few cold laughs.

“The crown is still on my head, yet these weak fellows have already begun obeying your orders.” He raised a hand to support the golden crown, his silk robe woven with gold thread making a faint rustling sound with his movement. “Since you wanted this crown so badly, wouldn’t it have been better to admit it openly and uprightly four years ago? Why go to such great lengths and spin such a massive circle?” Having said that, he actually took off the crown and threw it onto the floor. “Here. I’m tired of wearing it anyway. Believe me, this thing is a curse. Once you put it on, no one will ever speak the truth to you, and intrigue and deception will become your daily bread. You too will turn into the very appearance you look down upon now.”

Bai Heting did not give the crown so much as a glance, only asking, “Where are Shao Cheng’s wife and daughter?”

Probably having not expected him to ask such a question, Bai Jiashu froze for a moment, then smiled knowingly, “The Winter Palace. They are served good food and drink. They are the Queen’s family, how could I mistreat them?”

Luo Congye turned back and whispered something to the person behind him. After that person departed, Bai Jiashu added, “They can be counted as your family too, there’s no need to exterminate them completely.”

Bai Heting stopped speaking, seemingly having nothing left to say to him. Bai Jiashu, on the contrary, grew excited. “Today is a special day; I am very happy to meet you on this day.” He waved his hand at Bai Heting, calling him over intimately, “I will have an heir very soon. Come, come and pray together with me, pray that the Queen delivers smoothly.”

Bai Heting’s expression changed as well, but Bai Jiashu turned a blind eye to it, continuing on his own, “The Queen once carried two children for me, yet both unfortunately died in the womb. I have been wondering all this time whether that infant who died prematurely four years ago has been haunting my side, causing him to suffer like this.” His voice paused slightly, a smile hanging upon his brows and eyes, “So now, I come here every month to pray, praying that the dead infant stops making trouble. You see, as long as one is sincere enough before the Lord, one will surely reap rewards.”

Before his words could fully land, Luo Congye suddenly strode over, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him onto the altar. The candles were knocked over, and the finely embroidered velvet altar cloth was instantly ignited by the flames. Bai Jiashu supported himself against the ground, trying to get up, only to be dragged a few steps by Luo Congye and pinned to the floor.

“Do you honestly think,” Luo Congye glanced at the golden icon behind the altar, looking down with lowered eyes, “that I wouldn’t dare touch you in front of him?”

His head hummed from the impact against the floor, and Bai Jiashu spat out the bloody water in his mouth.

“How crude.” Turning his face slightly, he looked at Bai Heting and asked, “Just what kind of bewitching potion did he feed you? He is nothing but a lowly bastard. You wrest the throne from my hands, and then what? Allow the blood of a commoner to flow through the veins of royal descendants?”

Bai Heting’s face remained pale amidst the firelight. Someone wanted to step forward to put out the fire, but he raised his hand to stop them.

“He is nobler than you.” He said faintly.

Luo Congye’s movements paused, and he looked over at him as well.

The intense scent of tequila pheromones engulfed the pungent smoke and burning air, Bai Jiashu coughed a few times with a smile.

“From childhood to adulthood, Royal Father never once looked me in the eye. I knew very well in my heart that he didn’t like my mother, and he didn’t like me either.” Slowing down his speech, his expression and tone grew serious at the same time. “He could have abandoned me at any moment, so I could only rely on myself to grasp everything that belonged to me. You have read history; to put on a crown, someone always has to bleed, don’t they?”

Bai Heting closed his eyes wearily. This time, he truly had nothing left to say to Bai Jiashu.

“I’ve realized that Shao Yixiao is more of a human being than you are. At least he knows how to reflect.” Luo Congye reined in his pheromones and told Bai Jiashu, “I didn’t kill Shao Yixiao. According to our agreement, I let him go. Can you guess why he didn’t come back?”

Bai Jiashu seemed to be stumped by the question. He stared blankly at Luo Congye, failing to reply for a long time.

Seeing that he wouldn’t answer, Luo Congye told him straightforwardly, “He committed suicide on his father’s execution platform. He would rather die than return and fight for you. I wonder, at the very last moment of his life, whether he hated himself more for causing his father’s death, or hated you more.” He laughed softly. “You and your utterly unscrupulous father are truly alike. Both of you killed the people who sincerely followed you.”

Bai Jiashu was suddenly completely infuriated by these words. His eyes flushed red as he gnashed his teeth, “Who do you think you are? To dare lecture and judge me—”

Luo Congye, however, did not let him continue. He tightened his grip, sealing Bai Jiashu’s hysteria within that fragile throat. Amid the roaring flames, the altar collapsed with a thunderous crash. Drawing the very dagger he had personally given Bai Jiashu from his waist, he answered in a calm, even tone, “I am the one who can take your life.”

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