Luo Congye could never have imagined that just three days after that dream-like evening, the general’s second-in-command would personally visit the guard regiment and appoint him as the general’s personal close guard, citing his meritorious service in killing enemies during the autumn hunt.
Even more unexpected was that Qiu Chen brought him directly here.
This was the place where Luo Congye lived from the age of six to fifteen, and it was also the place where he had fled in a hurry on the eve of his differentiation.
Compared to four years ago, Bai Heting’s mansion didn’t seem to have changed much, but before he even had time to observe closely, he noticed something unusual.
The long corridor outside Bai Heting’s bedroom was completely deserted.
Luo Congye knew perfectly well the kind of circumstances under which attendants would be barred from entering this place.
The footsteps behind him grew slower and slower. Qiu Chen stopped and glanced back. If Luo Congye had looked up at that moment, he would have found that Qiu Chen’s expression wasn’t any better than his own.
“Don’t dawdle.”
“And don’t do anything you shouldn’t do either.”
Qiu Chen dropped these two sentences and, without waiting for Luo Congye to react, quickened his pace once more.
Zhou Chengbei was full of nothing but terrible ideas.
Earlier today, he had come to the General’s Mansion with an oral message from the cardinal, and Bai Heting had received him in his bedroom. Unlike other officials, Bai Heting only received guests in his bedroom when his mobility was impaired. If it weren’t for a sudden and extremely urgent matter, Qiu Chen would never have brought military affairs to his bedroom.
After listening to Qiu Chen’s report, Bai Heting was anxious to have an audience with Bai Yi. In his urgency, he used three suppressants in a row, but instead of easing, his heat grew increasingly intense.
Qiu Chen had no choice but to call in Physician Zhou.
Zhou Chengbei wore a helpless expression as if he had already anticipated this outcome and proposed a method to the two of them that nobles occasionally used in private. This method carried no risk of being marked, nor did it require enduring the side effects of long-term suppressant use. Although its efficacy was far inferior to that of an Alpha’s pheromones, its advantages lay in being safe and convenient.
After listening, Bai Heting leaned against the bed and contemplated for a long time, dismissing Zhou Chengbei first before instructing Qiu Chen to fetch the person.
Thinking he had misheard, Qiu Chen confirmed once more, “Physician Zhou’s meaning was to find a Beta.”
“What you mean is that you want me to transfer you under Zhou Chengbei?” The person behind the bed curtains lay back into the bed.
A chill ran through Qiu Chen’s heart, and he hurriedly said, “This subordinate will set off immediately.”
Bai Heting did not press him further, only throwing out a weak, exhausted instruction, “Remember, without my permission, not a single soul from the Church is allowed to step half a foot into the military camp.”
*
The surroundings were pitch-black.
For some reason, despite being afraid of the dark, he had not lit a lamp today.
The young Bai Heting had never known what was best to call him. He had once tried calling him “Mother” like the other children, but the man flew into a terrible rage and refused to let Bai Heting into the house for four consecutive days.
He had never given Bai Heting a proper name either, and except for when he was throwing a tantrum, he would never take the initiative to speak to him.
But he would leave a bowl of food for Bai Heting every day.
Although his vision was blurry and indistinct, this was, after all, the place where he had lived for six years; Bai Heting knew the placement of every single item by heart. Without wasting much effort, he quickly found the tools to strike a fire.
He must have thrown another temper tantrum and spilled the soup.
The reason Bai Heting thought this way was that the sensation beneath his feet felt exceptionally real. He had just stepped barefoot onto something sticky, and the soles of his feet were even coated in soft, rotten remnants.
A nauseating odor drifted through the room.
The food must have spoiled.
Bai Heting walked over to the table, stood on his tiptoes to grope for the rushlight lamp that had already gone cold, and placed the lamp steadily onto the floor.
Tiny sparks flared in the darkness as the fire steel scraped against the flint, producing a steady clack, clack with each strike.
Although lighting a fire was a complex task, the six-year-old Bai Heting was already highly proficient at it, and the rushlight lamp was soon burning once again.
The instant the light restored his vision, Bai Heting’s eyes flew wide open.
He tightly covered his mouth with his hand, his breathing coming to a complete halt along with it.
Who knows how much time passed, it could have been a second, or perhaps a dozen seconds, before that turbid air finally rushed back into his lungs.
Bai Heting vomited.
He threw up every last bit of the few contents in his stomach until, in the end, he couldn’t even retch gastric acid.
The room was filled with a foul stench, a mixture of the smell of blood and vomit.
It was suffocating.
But he could not move; his chest felt as though it was stuffed with a heavy boulder, dragging him down into a continuous plunge.
Amidst this endless fall, a hand covered his eyes.
Immediately following that, the sharp, pungent scent of tequila overpowered the stinging stench of rot.
Drenched in sweat, Bai Heting abruptly snapped his eyes open.
Before him was the carved wood pattern of a white crane flapping its wings, and the room was overflowing with a rich, intense aroma of tequila pheromones. Pulling his gaze away from the solid wooden canopy above the bed, he parted the bed curtains slightly and saw the Alpha still standing by the door, like a child being punished, for who knew how long.
Bai Heting closed his eyes to rest for a moment. Once the lingering discomfort from the dream had eased slightly, he spoke up, “Do I have to invite you over every single time?”
