When Mr. Gurley came through the door, he saw Ferdinand nodding at him with a smile as he had Shen Zhirou released.
Shen Zhirou’s eyes were extremely red and swollen. Her eyes, which were already small, were now reduced even more <sup>1</sup> yo how do I not make this sound racist asf . She hung her head lowly—one could not tell where she was looking.
“Let Zhirou go, she understands now.”
Ferdinand patted her shoulder, and Shen Zhirou nodded feebly, her voice somewhat shaky, “…Thank you.”
“It’s alright,” The corner of Ferdinand’s lips slanted upwards faintly. “Although it might sound a little pretentious, I truly believe in doing this for justice in the world.”
Shen Zhirou shivered again.
“Mr. Gurley, might I trouble you to send her home?”
Ferdinand’s spirits were clearly high. His eyes stayed on his thumb ring, and his lips were pursed into a self-satisfied smile, as if everything was part of a carefully crafted strategy, completely under his control.
Uriah could also keenly sense the other man’s contentment.
“So…” Uriah lazily drank his black tea, looking up at him, “You think it’s a sure win? Even though the whole palace is filled with soldiers of the Yan family, you still feel that way?”
Ferdinand’s return had always been a secret. Uriah actually thought that he should’ve been angry.
While he was off investigating in distant, unknown territories, Yan Shuo had torn off almost half of his old base—even the blade between his fingers had been pried away.
“Why not?” Ferdinand poured himself a cup, fingers gently stroking over the lips of the man before him. The liquid of the tea provided a layer of ambiguous lustre. “Uriah, how do you think Yan Shuo will defeat me? As of now, I remain the righteous and proper crown prince. My plan can be delayed—anyway, as soon as that old man dies, everything will still become mine.”
Uriah thought about it, and actually realised that this made some sense.
He paused again, and looked at Ferdinand somewhat hesitantly, “…Is Shen Zhifan so important that he’s worth so much effort? Kidnapping his sister, and…”
“Are you jealous?”
Ferdinand chuckled softly.
Uriah’s eyelid twitched as he looked up at Ferdinand, curious.
“Shen Zhifan…Shen Zhifan is quite a promising child,” Ferdinand rested his chin on a hand, “With such good looks, I would like him if he were a little younger. Back in the day, he was both innocent and cute—it’s a pity that he became too prickly later on, you know? I wouldn’t be able to stomach that.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted, though?” Uriah looked at him calmly, “I asked Gurley—you did it on purpose, didn’t you? Sending him into the underground mech arena, tormenting him like that, and even feeding him all those exaggerations, changing him from a kind and innocent boy to what he is now…”
“Why are you suddenly interested in these things?”
Ferdinand’s expression stilled slightly, quietly gazing at him, a sense of dissatisfaction arising from Uriah’s meddling.
He usually appeared as a noble young master who could transform into a holy father when draped with a mantle, but his original temperament and facial features were really too fierce. Even by just raising an eyebrow, Uriah was overwhelmed with an indescribably intense pressure.
Uriah kept his mouth shut.
He had always been somewhat fearful of his older brother, regardless of his own status as either a younger brother or lover.
See—it was clearly him who had brought up the topic, but as soon as he overstepped his boundaries, Ferdinand brought out that look again.
Both tyrannical and unreasonable—he was really too temperamental.
“You must blame me.”
Ferdinand’s expression changed once more, as if returning to a gentle lover again as soon as Uriah deferred to him. He turned Uriah by the chin and kissed him.
“Don’t blame me…I love you, baby.”
Uriah fell silent. He would never refuse Ferdinand, so he kept his eyes closed.
“Don’t blame me, I’m doing it for your own good. You know I can never control this temper of mine…”
Ferdinand kissed his lover to appease him, though he was still basking in self-satisfaction.
He had planted a ticking time bomb next to Shen Zhifan, which would detonate Shen Zhifan himself—an even larger bomb.
One after the other—could it be any more perfect?
……
…
Mr. Gurley didn’t send Shen Zhirou home personally. He didn’t understand why Ferdinand was so meticulous about a little girl like her.
The Sevier bloodline in Shen Zhirou was too faint, and from the outside, one could only see the unfulfilled qualifications of that race.
His Highness Ferdinand’s flowery words had already completely deceived the girl, just as he had deceived Shen Zhifan all those years ago.
The aide beside him chuckled, “Congratulations, sir. The impression of a Sevier is truly fascinating.”
Mr. Gurley felt that this aide was quite insensible. Luckily, he rather favoured the other man, so he patiently explained.
“You think it’s fascinating? That one’s bloodline level is too low. Have you seen Shen Zhifan? Tsk…What a shame. He is a ‘blade’, so my lord won’t touch him for now.”
The aide couldn’t help but say, “…Speaking of, I have followed the lord for so long, but I never really knew…Sir, forgive my bluntness—His Highness Ferdinand is already the crown prince, so the empire will be in his pocket sooner or later. Why exactly must he…?”
Gurley rubbed at his moustache. The years he’d spent with Ferdinand had seemed to pass by in a flash.
“Why else? It’s just as we heard, outside His Highness’s door; he already stands at the peak of power and wealth. For these kinds of people, ‘immortality’ is the one thing they’ll forever pursue.”
The aide paused.
“Anyway, we shouldn’t presume too much,” Gurley eyed the aide in admonishment, “If we stay in line, there will always be meat to share.”
The aide nodded, as if in deep thought.
…
Shen Zhirou had been held in one of Ferdinand’s personal wineries. Now, she finally let out a breath, sitting in the back of a car an hour away from the place.
Her tears and anger from before had been completely genuine—even now, she cradled her head in her hands, pained and lost.
The truth of those buried secrets was like a bomb, ringing in her ears. It was only when she returned home that she recovered somewhat.
The driver was one of the burly men who’d helped tie her up. With a heavy accent and a cigarette dangling from his mouth, he was not handsome in the least, which made her mood even worse.
Until she was set before the entrance of her home, she still felt as if everything had happened a lifetime ago.
She swallowed as she stood there, facing the main door.
Her phone had already been returned to her. It was only yesterday that she had been blowing up her brother’s phone, while today it was the opposite.
As soon as she thought of going in and facing her brother, her heart dropped. Her fingers paused in reaching for the keys.
Yet the moment that she hesitated, two hands reached out from behind her, covering her mouth tightly.
It was at this moment Shen Zhirou felt that she was quite transcendent, because not only was she completely, unbelievably apathetic—she didn’t even feel fear anymore.