ITF Chapter63

Through the arched window, the midsummer sunlight poured generously into the parlor, coating the slate floor in a soft wash of light. Wen Yan took a sip of the hot soup from his bowl, narrowed his phoenix eyes, and watched the departing figures of Shen Yao with a long sigh, “General Shao’s wife is truly virtuous.”

Shao Cheng’s face grew increasingly dark.

He dismissed the attendants and ordered them to close the doors. Only when the outside was completely silent did he lower his voice and say, “You enter my house so flagrantly, aren’t you afraid of gossip?”

Wen Yan’s identity was unique, and such behavior was indeed inappropriate, but not a shred of regret showed on his face. He scoffed disdainfully, “Our business has long ceased to be a secret to Bai Yi, what are you afraid of?”

He set the soup bowl down on the side table, leaning his upper body back against the chair as if he had no bones, and said lazily, “I told you, I made some interesting discoveries. Since you didn’t come looking for me, I had no choice but to come to you.”

Shao Cheng had long grown accustomed to his willful and spoiled demeanor in private, so he chose not to argue, only asking, “What discovery?”

“I found someone very important to Bai Yi.” Wen Yan tilted his head and flashed him a sly smile, “It was a… priest.”

It took Shao Cheng a moment to realize who he was talking about, and he asked in astonishment, “How did you find him?”

“I found him in Ximo. He is well advanced in years and has contracted an incurable disease with probably only a few days left to live, so he fled to a church to confess his sins.” Wen Yan stood up and wandered around the parlor, his footsteps stopping in front of a framed oil painting as he said casually, “The sin of concealing the truth. He’s a clever man; he knew he couldn’t survive under Bai Yi’s watch, so he hid somewhere Bai Yi’s reach couldn’t extend.”

Since he had put it this way, he probably knew no less than himself. Shao Cheng frowned, “Your priests just leak the secrets of the confessors like that?”

Wen Yan turned back to look at him, his expression tightened. “Of course that is not permissible. Confidentiality is the highest rule in the sacrament of confession. Therefore, the priest who disclosed it has already been subjected to automatic excommunication.”

Shao Cheng stared intently at that solemn face.

Without Wen Yan’s instigation, that priest naturally would not have proactively disclosed a believer’s secret.

He said in a low voice, “You really are a devil.”

Wen Yan smiled again, “It’s not like you just found out what I am today.” With that, he went back to looking at the portrait, in which Shen Yao was riding a pure white stallion, her eyes gentle as water, seeming to lock gazes with him. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is, Bai Yi’s wings have grown strong now, and I dislike it very much.”

Shao Cheng remained silent, and Wen Yan continued, “I have the witness, and you have the physical evidence. As long as the Church steps forward to recognize the marriage between Bai Yi and Luo Wanyin, then the marriage between Bai Yi and Lin Yuerong is invalid.”

Shao Cheng reminded him, “The current Bai Yi is not afraid of that.”

“Whether he is afraid or not doesn’t matter; what matters is, someone else will be.” Wen Yan finally lost interest in the painting and winked at Shao Cheng. “The Crown Prince, who has always been carefree and lived in luxury, will surely be devastated to find out that he is actually an illegitimate child with no right of succession, won’t he?”

Shao Cheng understood his meaning in an instant.

Just like fourteen years ago, this man uttered words that could sentence someone to death, all while wearing the most innocent expression.

Wen Yan paced over and stood face-to-face with Shao Cheng before continuing, “I heard your son has fallen out of favor with Bai Jiashu. Let him take the credit in front of Bai Jiashu—consider it a gift from me to him.” With that, he extended his arms again and said softly, “And also a gift from me to you.”

Shao Cheng pressed his hands against Wen Yan’s shoulders to prevent him from leaning in.

“This is my home.” He said in a deep voice.

“Oh…” Wen Yan lowered his head and laughed softly. “I almost forgot. Keeping it a secret from your family is the absolute rule of this game of ours.” He withdrew his hands from Shao Cheng’s waist, the amusement fading from his voice. “General Shao, you should know better than anyone that what lies beneath this skin of mine is by no means a saint. You should also be glad that I gave the rare amount of conscience I possess entirely to you.”

The hands resting on his shoulders suddenly tightened their grip. Wen Yan pushed against Shao Cheng’s chest to break free from his constraint. “I know you’ve always thought I’m dirty, but I hope you won’t make it so obvious. My conscience is limited.”

Silence fell over the parlor. After a moment, Shao Cheng sighed, “When are you going back?”

Wen Yan raised his hand to smooth the fabric on his shoulder and said coldly, “I’m leaving right now.”

He had misunderstood his meaning, but Shao Cheng did not explain either. He turned around, retrieved a long box from a cabinet, and thrust it into Wen Yan’s hands.

“Take this.” He said.

Wen Yan lifted the lid and glanced inside, his lowered lashes fluttered slightly. It was a box of frankincense resin; when burned, its scent closely resembled Shao Cheng’s pheromones.

“This resembles it a bit more.” Shao Cheng pressed down on those ice-cold hands, helping him close the lid, and said softly, “Don’t be in a hurry to return to the palace. Stay at your private residence in the capital for a few days.” He quickly withdrew his hands, but his tone remained soft. “I will go find you there tomorrow morning.”

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