Behind the man’s tall and straight figure was a boundless clear sky. In an instant, the blue sky, white clouds, and galloping steeds; the memories of his childhood surged forward like a torrential flood.
Luo Congye murmured after him, repeating, “Physician… Zhou?”
Zhou Chengbei let out a soft sigh of relief.
His words just now had merely been a test, but Luo Congye’s reaction confirmed his speculation. On the first day of the autumn hunt, he had accidentally caught sight of a young man among Bai Heting’s close guards. Although the young man’s appearance was vastly different from when he was six years old, hints of his childhood self could still be discerned from his bone structure.
More importantly, the inheritance of bloodlines could not be faked.
This child had inherited the best of his parents’ features; since infancy, he had always been praised for his exceptional looks.
Zhou Chengbei offered a helpless smile and introduced his current name, “Zhou Chengbei. ‘Cheng’ as in to undertake and ‘Bei’ as in the north.”
Zhou Chengbei… Luo Congye suddenly came to a realization.
Zhou Chengbei—let’s call him Zhou Chengbei for now. He also had a younger twin brother in his family, and Luo Congye used to frolic and play with the two of them often. Thirteen years later, this childhood playmate suddenly changed his name and surname to appear right before him. He quieted down, then said slowly, “You are the General’s physician?”
Although Zhou Chengbei had come here because of him, he hadn’t expected to run into him at this exact moment either. He hesitated to speak, finally lowering his voice and saying in a rapid clip, “This isn’t a suitable place to talk. Tonight, after the lights-out bell rings, I’ll wait for you in the woods behind the stables.”
The moment he finished speaking, he turned as if to leave, but Luo Congye gave no response. Instead, he stepped to the left, cutting off his path.
Zhou Chengbei’s footsteps ground to a halt, and his expression gradually grew serious.
Luo Congye said, “What kind of words are unsuitable to be spoken here?”
This was clearly not an ordinary question.
The year Luo Congye went missing, Zhou Chengbei was also only fifteen years old. He and his father had found only the skeleton of an adult female inside that mansion, which had been burned to ruins. Later, they managed to gather bits of information through various channels that a child had been taken away by a youth at the time. Over the past thirteen years, even though the hope was slim, they had never given up searching. It was just a pity that time flew ruthlessly; this was no longer the little toddler who used to constantly follow right behind his heels.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand; on the contrary, he understood far too much.
He had grown up on an unfamiliar land, surrounded by unfamiliar people, and had ultimately grown into an unfamiliar form.
The two of them stood face-to-face, less than half a meter apart; a distance where even a whisper could be heard clearly. Yet Zhou Chengbei could clearly see the dividing line Luo Congye had drawn between them. He remained silent for a long while before finally saying in a low voice, “The Marshal was framed.”
Luo Congye’s hands unconsciously clenched into fists. Only after a while did his restrained breathing return to a steady calm.
“What does that have to do with me?” He countered, his tone devoid of any ripples. “His one-night stand bought my mother seven years of continuous agony. She never received his protection, yet she died because of him.” Luo Congye lowered his eyes, pausing for a few seconds before continuing, “Do you know how she died?”
Zhou Chengbei did not know.
That upheaval had struck completely out of the blue. At the time, half a month had already passed since the execution day of Pei Ming’s family and their trusted aides. Although there were still some small-scale resistance efforts along the border, no one expected several squads of Royal Cavalry to suddenly appear in the civilian quarters of Urdan.
Luo Congye continued, “The day they came to seize us, she just happened to be in her heat.”
A chill surged up his spine, and Zhou Chengbei silently parted his lips.
“They kicked the door open, but her reflexes were faster; she hid me in the wardrobe.”
Zhou Chengbei interrupted, “Stop talking.”
“With an Omega in heat right there, who would still bother looking for a child?”
Zhou Chengbei frowned and repeated, “Stop talking.”
“Even her intestines were ripped out.”
“Pei Yan!”
This low growl finally brought silence back to the terrace once more.
Zhou Chengbei walked back to the corridor to scan the surroundings, and after confirming no one was there, he walked back to Luo Congye’s side, having regained control of his emotions.
“The Marshal was framed by treacherous people. If you want to hate, you should hate those who framed him.”
Luo Congye wiped his face with his hand, only saying, “His affairs no longer have anything to do with me.”
Wet tracks still remained on his face, and Zhou Chengbei softened his voice. “You are the Marshal’s sole remaining bloodline.”
Bloodline.
Luo Congye let out a soft laugh.
“I don’t know what you came to find me for, but you’ve found the wrong person. I am just an illegitimate child. I won’t inherit his title and wealth, nor do I want to carry the burden of his old vendettas.” He shook his head. “An illegitimate child is nothing at all.”
Zhou Chengbei stared at his turning figure as he walked away, ultimately unable to hold back, and interrogated him in a deep voice, “So you degrade yourself by acting as a plaything for your enemy to vent his desires?”
Luo Congye’s footsteps paused. When he stepped forward again, Zhou Chengbei caught up and grabbed him by the arm.
An Alpha’s gland after lovemaking was much more prominent than usual, flushed and swollen due to the excessive release of pheromones. Zhou Chengbei asked in disbelief, “You’re not a Beta?”
“I wish to God I were.” Luo Congye brushed his hand off.
Doubt suddenly flared within Zhou Chengbei. The Bai Heting they knew of was fiercely loyal to Bai Yi and never overstepped in political affairs, he was a killing machine who only knew how to follow orders. It was common knowledge that his guard regiment was comprised entirely of Betas.
Looking at it now, however, that didn’t seem to be the whole story.
“Back then…” Zhou Chengbei hesitated slightly, “…were you taken away by Bai Heting?”
“He is your enemy, but he is also the one who saved my life. If you have any ulterior motives, I suggest you,” Luo Congye glanced at him briefly before quickly looking away again, “leave the General’s Mansion as soon as possible.”
Zhou Chengbei was struck dumb.
His tone was ice-cold, and these words carried a faint hint of a threat.
He had chosen his side.
Zhou Chengbei stared into his dodging eyes and asked, “If one day he fights for Bai Yi, where should you stand then? Standing on the opposite side of the Urdan people?”
“Just consider Pei Yan dead.” Luo Congye lowered his head. “He was supposed to have died in that raging fire anyway.”
Zhou Chengbei, however, refused to give up, “Have you ever considered why he saved you? He kills without hesitation; why would he spare the life of a traitor’s descendant?”
Luo Congye fell silent.
The light in his eyes flickered as if he had plunged into memory.
Only after a moment did he say softly, “I don’t know.”
Zhou Chengbei laughed out of sheer exasperation. “You don’t know?”
Behind his back, out of the other party’s sight, Luo Congye clenched his hand tightly.
Bai Heting had brought him back only to carelessly fling him aside, seemingly completely indifferent to whether he lived or died. If he hadn’t strained with every ounce of his strength, he likely never would have crossed paths with Bai Heting again in this lifetime.
“I don’t know why he saved me, but it is definitely not the answer you are thinking of.” His voice was extremely low, making it sound rather lacking in confidence. “Also, if you want me to live a few years longer, don’t mention that name ever again. My name is Luo Congye.”
