“It smells nothing like his pheromones.”
Luo Congye sat by the shore with his legs bent while tossing a few pieces of fir wood from his hand onto the ground.
As soon as March arrived, the temperature rebounded abruptly, and the heavy blizzards from late February had already melted away completely. Drawing his gaze away from the lake’s surface, where ice and water mingled together, he picked up a dark-brown ebony knife handle from among the pale pieces of fir scattered around it.
Ebony did not rot or fade easily, but carving it was far more laborious than working with a softwood like fir. Two months had passed, and the patterns on the hilt were only just beginning to take shape.
However, based on past experience, once Bai Heting left the capital, he would not return to the mansion for at least half a year, if not a whole year. He had plenty of time to meticulously polish this dagger.
But the sound of footsteps approaching from behind made Luo Congye frown.
That was, assuming this person stopped badgering him so frequently.
“Have you been avoiding me this whole time?” Zhou Chengbei walked over with light steps, finally coming to a halt by his side.
Luo Congye blew hard on the carved grooves of the wood.
“Keeping our distance from each other keeps us both safer.” He said without a shred of emotion.
The dislodged wood shavings scattered freely in the afternoon sunlight. Zhou Chengbei stepped back half a pace, waiting for the wood shavings to fall before moving forward again, observing him carve the wood with evident interest. “Deliberately distancing yourself from me is exactly what will make people suspicious, you know.”
Bai Heting had already been gone for three months, yet Zhou Chengbei was dutifully playing the part of a physician at the General’s Mansion, occasionally even stepping out of the official residence to offer free medical consultations to the farmers on the estate. Without even raising his head, Luo Congye asked, “What on earth do you want by staying here instead of leaving?”
Zhou Chengbei said, “I told you, I’m taking you home.”
Luo Congye said, “And I’ve also told you that I’m not going anywhere.”
Zhou Chengbei sat straight down right where he stood.
“Then I’ll just stay here and playhouse with you for a few more months.” He raised his head and slowly swept his gaze across the serene early-spring lakeside scenery before him, letting out an intentionally exaggerated sigh. “After all, the scenery is beautiful here, and the food and drink are excellent. I won’t get to live such a comfortable life once I go home.”
The movement of Luo Congye’s hands suddenly froze.
“But this kind of peaceful life…” Zhou Chengbei looked at him and said unhurriedly, “…likely won’t last much longer anyway.”
The carving knife dropped into those few pieces of fir wood, leaving a sharp, straight scratch across the softwood. Luo Congye turned his head to look at him, his tone chillingly cold, “Don’t do anything reckless.”
“What do you mean by reckless?” Meeting his gaze, Zhou Chengbei gave a candid smile. “You’ve lived under someone else’s protection for too long; have you forgotten what this world is truly like?” Yet that smile was like the waters of a lake in early winter, freezing over before one even realized it. “When a nation is held in the hands of people who are that extravagant, hedonistic, perfidious, and treacherous, reaching its end is only a matter of time.”
Luo Congye said, “You certainly are daring with your words.”
“If you really wanted to betray me, you would have told him my identity long ago, wouldn’t you?” Zhou Chengbei’s expression returned to peacefulness, even carrying a hint of a tease. “As if I don’t know what kind of person you are? I even changed your diapers back in the day.”
Luo Congye stopped replying. He picked up the carving knife from the ground and refocused his attention on the wood carving in his hands.
Zhou Chengbei didn’t bother him further, quietly watching from the side for a while until he finally made out the pattern on the wood.
What he was carving was fire.
A passionate, ostentatious, fiercely burning fire spiraling upward around the wooden handle.
“So, you do still remember what your name is, after all,” Zhou Chengbei leaned in closer, nearly touching heads with him, and asked with a smile, “Making it with so much care, it’s not meant for your own use, is it?”
This man seemed to possess a never-ending well of patience, just like when they were kids.
Luo Congye let out a barely audible sigh.
“I had nothing better to do, just making it for fun.” He said in a low voice.
In truth, Luo Congye didn’t even know what the point of making this dagger was. The general owned hundreds of rare and expensive blades; he wouldn’t care for a crudely made, cheap piece of junk like this.
“Did you know? A little duckling will recognize the first living creature it sees after birth as its mother, and then blindly follow it for the rest of its life.” Zhou Chengbei picked up the scratched piece of wood, brought it to the tip of his nose to catch its scent, then shook his head and placed it back down. “You’re clearly already twenty years old, so why are you still like a newborn animal, carrying this kind of naive innocence that knows nothing of the world?”
Luo Congye gathered the wood and tools scattered on the ground, cradling them in his arms as he stood up.
“Then again, this also proves he’s been quite good to you.” Zhou Chengbei stood up with him, resting his hand on his shoulder and turning him around. “At least he lets you grow up free of worries.” He looked straight ahead as a polite smile appeared on his face as he tilted his head to whisper in Luo Congye’s ear, “But in the end, people must pay a price for their own naivety.”
It was then that Luo Congye also spotted the person walking toward them from ahead.
Su Xingchuan was already fifty years old, but his posture was completely straight, his hair and clothes meticulously groomed, and he still walked with a sharp, brisk wind. When Luo Congye was a child, he had heard people say that this Steward Su had been a low-ranking officer in the infantry corps in his youth. Although he had achieved many military merits, because of his poor background and status as a Beta, he had never been promoted and had honorably retired the year the nation was founded. Bai Yi probably recalled his reliability, as he later brought him back specifically to manage Bai Heting’s properties in the capital, while also looking after Bai Heting’s daily life and well-being.
Luo Congye bowed to him, “Mister Su.”
“I knew you’d be here.” Su Xingchuan nodded, also greeting Zhou Chengbei, “Physician Zhou.”
“Mister Steward.” Zhou Chengbei replied with a beaming smile.
Seeing their intimate posture, Su Xingchuan glanced at the hand resting on Luo Congye’s shoulder before continuing, “I came to tell you both something. The General will arrive in the capital around tomorrow evening.”
Zhou Chengbei reacted quickly, his face instantly filled with concern, “That’s wonderful. Having traveled for months in the south, I wonder if the General’s health has improved at all?”
Su Xingchuan smiled at him. He looked at Zhou Chengbei for a few seconds before saying, “The letter says everything is fine.” Then he turned his face to look at Luo Congye, “What is it, are you not happy to hear this news?”
His shoulder was squeezed hard, and Luo Congye finally snapped out of it.
Right.
When he was a child, every time he heard this news from the steward, he would always be overjoyed.
“How could I not be?” Luo Congye shook his head before pulling his lips into a smile. “I’m just a bit surprised.”
