ITF Chapter123

A faint, crisp click echoed through the garden as Bai Heting slid the new dagger back into its sheath. The morning dew had begun to evaporate, but the metal tip of the hilt, and the pristine white pearl resting within it, remained cool against his skin.

“A witness?” Luo Congye repeated the words, his deep voice carrying a sudden, intense focus. The lazy, teasing demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a gaze that was heavy and dark. He didn’t blink, pinning Bai Heting with a stare that demanded absolute honesty. “What kind of witness?”

Bai Heting didn’t look at him. He focused instead on the smooth silver casing of his blade, his long fingers trailing over the engraved pattern of the unburnt feather. “Just a formal declaration. A ceremony, if you must call it that. It has nothing to do with the Church or their absurd blessings. Merely a contract witnessed by those who matter to us to ensure that whatever happens in the capital, our positions, and our alliance, are legally unassailable.”

“An alliance.” Luo Congye let out a short, rough laugh that sounded entirely devoid of mirth. He stepped forward, his massive frame blocking out the sunlight, casting a long shadow over the Omega. “General Bai, you really are a master of turning everything into a political transaction. Even this.”

He reached out, his large, rough hand clamping tightly over Bai Heting’s wrist, forcing him to stop playing with the dagger. The heat radiating from his palm was staggering, a sharp contrast to the cool morning air.

“Look at me,” Luo Congye commanded, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a possessive, territorial weight. “You stood in that bathroom and told me you wanted to be responsible to only one person. Now you’re standing in your own garden, wearing my boots, carrying a blade inlaid with a pearl you bought for me, and you’re telling me you want a contract?”

Bai Heting’s eyelashes fluttered, but he kept his chin high, refusing to show any weakness despite the sudden spike of pure tequila pheromones invading his senses. “The council requires stability, Luo Congye. If you are to sit as the Minister of Commerce, and if I am to remain the Lord Protector, the nobility will look for any loophole to tear us apart. A formal, witnessed bond is the most logical—”

“I don’t give a damn about nobility, nor do I give a damn about logic right now,” Luo Congye interrupted, his grip tightening just enough to be felt without causing pain. He leaned down, his face mere inches from Bai Heting’s, his breath sweeping hot and ragged across the Omega’s cheek. “A witness means a vow. It means a wedding, Bai Heting. Say the word. Don’t hide behind your politics and your council.”

The brute force of the Alpha’s focus made Bai Heting’s heart stutter. The permanent bond at the back of his neck throbbed with a dull, sweet heat, echoing the demand of the man standing before him. He wanted to look away, to retreat into his usual cold, impenetrable armor, but Luo Congye’s gaze was like a trap; one he had entirely no desire to escape.

“A wedding,” Bai Heting finally murmured, the words tasting foreign yet strangely heavy on his tongue. He let out a slow, quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders finally draining away. “If that is the term you prefer… then yes.”

Everything was spotlessly clean, so much so that it felt less like a bedroom and more like an exhibition of precise habits.

Jiang Han stepped further into the room, scanning the shelves with his eyes. His gaze eventually landed on the corner of the writing desk, where a neat stack of papers lay weighted down by a simple inkstone. It was a common habit among medical students and military physicians alike; leaving transcripts and notes in perfect order before a long departure.

Just as he was about to turn away, his hand brushed against the side of the bookshelf, and a soft, dry rustle caught his attention.

A small piece of parchment had been neatly wedged into the gap between two heavy volumes of surgical anatomy. It wasn’t left there by accident; the corner was intentionally left peeking out, as if waiting for the only person in the mansion who would bother to look through a library of medical texts.

Jiang Han pulled it out.

The handwriting on the parchment was firm, lacking the meticulous elegance of a scholar but carrying the blunt, straightforward strokes of someone who spent more time gripping a blade than a pen.

The road to the northern borders is long, and the field medical center there is lacking in supplies. I have taken the old journals regarding trauma treatment from the study. As for the care of the Lord Protector’s vital energy, I leave it entirely to you.

We are not that close, but you are a good physician. Take care.

Jiang Han stared at the brief message, a helpless, ironic smile faintly touching his lips. “We are not that close,” he murmured to himself, repeating the very words he had clumsily used to fend off Bai Heting’s scrutiny just days prior. So that blunt boy had caught wind of it, or perhaps simply shared the exact same awkward stubbornness.

He carefully folded the paper and slipped it into his breast pocket.

Before the silence of the room could settle back over him, the sound of heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the corridor outside, breaking his thoughts. The sheer presence of the incoming scent; a rich, enveloping wave of tequila mixed with the sharp, crisp undertone of winter fir, instantly told him who was approaching long before they reached the threshold.

“Physician Jiang.” Luo Congye’s deep voice boomed slightly as he stepped through the open doorway.

He had changed out of his dirt-streaked trousers, but he still carried the faint, grounding scent of the garden’s rich soil. Behind him followed Bai Heting, who had finally exchanged those oversized Alpha boots for a proper pair of soft indoor shoes, though his expression remained slightly stiff, his fingers still tracing the metallic hilt of the new dagger at his waist.

Jiang Han composed himself and turned to face them, bowing slightly out of professional habit. “General Bai, Luo… Minister Luo. Is there something wrong with the Lord Protector’s suppressants? The next cycle shouldn’t require an adjustment so soon.”

“The suppressants are fine,” Bai Heting cut in quickly, his voice crisp, though a subtle tint of crimson crept along the tips of his ears. He looked askance at Luo Congye, giving him a pointed nudge with his elbow. “Speak.”

Luo Congye didn’t mind the rough treatment at all. He stepped forward, his broad shoulders easily dominating the space of the small room, his face settling into an uncharacteristically formal, solemn expression.

“We came to ask for a favor, Physician Jiang,” Luo Congye said, his voice dropping into a sincere, grounded register. He cleared his throat, maintaining steady, respectful eye contact with the physician. “In three days, we are having a small gathering here in the mansion. There will be no church officials, no high nobles, and no political grandstanding. Just Mister Su, and hopefully, you.”

Jiang Han blinked, caught entirely off guard. “A gathering? For what purpose?”

Luo Congye reached down, his large hand unerringly finding Bai Heting’s fingers and locking them tight, refusing to let the Omega pull away this time.

“A wedding,” Luo Congye declared smoothly with his thumb stroking the back of Bai Heting’s knuckles with immense pride. “We need a witness who has seen exactly what it took for us to survive until today. And there is no one more qualified than you.”

Jiang Han withdrew one of the volumes to look at it; it was Bei Chengzhou’s medical notes.

Academically speaking, Bei Chengzhou was by no means the exceptionally gifted type, but the effort he put in was second to none. His notes had always been far more detailed than those written by Jiang Han, with the accompanying diagrams meticulously drawn, never leaving out a single foundational detail that could easily be overlooked.

Jiang Han placed the notes back in their original spot and walked back to the edge of the writing desk, picking up that lemon once again.

Aside from this lemon left on the desk, Bei Yang did not seem to have left behind any traces of having resided here.

But then again, perhaps not, Jiang Han reconsidered. He could hardly claim to understand Bei Yang, so even if the other party had left some traces behind, he would likely fail to notice them.

While his mind was still wandering, a sentence suddenly came from behind him without any warning, “Physician Jiang.”

Jiang Han was startled.

He turned around abruptly, only to discover that a person had appeared at the doorway of the room at some unknown point.

Clad in a riding outfit, Bei Yang looked as though he had already completed his preparations for departure. Standing by the door, he gave Jiang Han a polite smile, “Are you looking for me?”

With his back resting against the writing desk, Jiang Han supported himself against its edge with his left hand while keeping his right hand behind his back, explaining to him, “I heard you were returning to Urdan, so I came to say goodbye.”

A trace of flustered panic hung upon his face, looking for all the world as though he had a guilty conscience over doing something wrong. Yet, Bei Yang’s demeanor was quite relaxed, speaking as if making casual conversation, “En, I can finally go home.”

His tone was entirely natural as if nothing at all had ever transpired between the two of them, causing Jiang Han to let out a silent sigh of relief.

“Will all the people on the island move back?” He asked.

“Not all of them.” Bei Yang shook his head. “Some people have already grown accustomed to life on the island. However, the majority will go back.” He said in a concise, matter-of-fact manner, “After all, Urdan is currently facing a period of total reconstruction, and there is still a great deal that needs to be done.”

He showed no inclination to elaborate, and with Jiang Han’s polite pleasantries exhausted, the atmosphere cooled, growing somewhat awkward.

“Then I’ll leave first—”

“That is meant for my brother; it can’t be given to anyone else.”

The two of them spoke almost simultaneously. Jiang Han’s face betrayed his embarrassment, and before he could offer an explanation, Bei Yang suddenly threw an object toward him. As a reflex, Jiang Han raised his hand to catch it, yet not only did he fail to do so, but the lemon originally concealed in his right hand also slipped from his grasp and rolled onto the floor.

“Does it smell good?” Bei Yang asked.

This scene was truly far too wretched and embarrassing. Jiang Han bent his waist down, reaching out to pick up the lemon beside his foot, “I didn’t…”

“I saw everything from over there,” Bei Yang pointed outside the window.

Jiang Han followed the direction of his finger; in the distance, there was actually a spacious terrace.

Standing there happened to afford a completely unobstructed view of everything surrounding this writing desk.

Withdrawing his gaze, he looked helplessly toward the lemon that had rolled a short distance away. It was picked up first by someone who had beaten him to it.

“Only between friends is a goodbye necessary.” Bei Yang placed the lemon back on the desk before turning his head to look at Jiang Han as he said without leaving him any face, “I recall that Physician Jiang has no desire to be friends with me.”