CH-033

Four days until his father's wedding.

When the long-sealed carriage finally stopped in front of the Duke's manor in Carson City and the carriage door opened, Leslie only felt his head spinning and his chest heavy and uncomfortable. He suppressed the reaction with effort, keeping his lips pressed tight, not daring to show the slightest impropriety.

He was afraid.

Afraid others would suspect his resentment of this wedding. Suspect that he was unwelcoming of that "new mother." Suspect that he was resistant to all the new members who were soon to arrive.

Yet when he stepped out his first step, he nearly stumbled powerlessly off the carriage, and was fortunately caught at once by the butler beside him: "Young Master Leslie, are you all right?"

Leslie looked up to reply, and incidentally glimpsed three silhouettes standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows in the distance. At that distance, he couldn't make out the expressions of whoever stood there, or even determine whether they were looking at him the way he was looking at them.

And yet he still felt something imperceptible and stinging brush across his face — as though his gaze had been pierced through.

"......" This was clearly not a particularly good first encounter.

Stepping inside the manor's main hall, the first thing Leslie's eyes landed on was the scene in the parlor: two young men about his own age were lounging on the sofa chatting animatedly with their mother, the atmosphere intimate and easy. A chessboard rested on the sofa cushion beside them, several pieces scattered and askew, with half-eaten fruit beside the board. The closeness between the three came naturally to them, their manner casual and unguarded — the air of people who owned this place. And Leslie, standing at the door, was the uninvited stranger, the outsider.

They had very obviously noticed his arrival, yet not a single one had spared him so much as a glance.

In the silence, the butler spoke first: "Lady Adalee, this is Young Master Leslie."

Lady Adalee was a young and beautiful golden-haired woman with eyes the color of sapphires. It was said she bore a striking resemblance to Leslie's birth mother, Odora, but Leslie felt not a trace of closeness toward her.

At the sound of his name, Adalee turned her head in Leslie's direction. There was no particular warmth in her eyes, and her expression was half-smile, half not: "I expected that even having been sent to live in a remote country village for years and not having learned much of anything, you would at least know to greet your future mother with proper courtesy upon meeting."

Adalee sighed softly, her expression shifting to something that looked almost like concern: "I know you've been living in some loneliness all this time, and your father doesn't seem to have paid you much attention..."

She paused, then her tone shifted, a barely perceptible cold smile touching her lips: "But don't you think that perhaps this attitude of yours is precisely the reason your father has grown increasingly distant from you? Have you ever wondered why you would be so neglected — even discarded by him?"

Leslie's eyes darkened at her words, though he had no intention of engaging with what she'd just said. He simply replied coolly: "Lady Adalee, if that is all you wanted to say to me, then I'll go rest."

Adalee had already heard this child had a strange personality. Now seeing him in person, she confirmed — thoroughly unlikable.

But that suited her just fine. A fringe figure like this wasn't worth spending energy on. She let out a light sound of contempt, as though hearing some amusing fantasy: "Are you sure you have a room to rest in here?"

"Dad said the rooms here are arranged by us. Are you sure you have a room?"

"Shouldn't you ask us properly first?"

The two young men by Adalee's side finally looked up at him — one with a raised brow, looking him over; the other with a derisive sniff. Neither made any move to greet him.

The word "Dad" fell like a spike into his ears — the sharpest word in all of what had been said. His vision went momentarily dark, his knuckles snapping tight, as though gripping something he could crush.

Because in that instant, he felt the most important person in his life had been stripped away so blatantly, without so much as asking for his thoughts.

A fire burned in Leslie's pupils — for one moment he nearly lost all composure, wanting to leap across the room and beat them both to a pulp. To make it clear to them that they had absolutely nothing to do with his father!

How dare they speak about his father in that tone!

"...You do call him that affectionately," Leslie's voice dropped low, cold and raw. "The wedding ceremony hasn't even started, and you're already calling him that so readily? Is it because your own biological fathers are already dead and gone? Whether they are or aren't, have you no shame calling someone else's father like that so casually? How utterly repulsive."

The parlor fell into the silence of a battlefield.

The expressions of the two young men froze. The composure on Adalee's face congealed in an instant.

Leslie stood where he was — thin and slight, yet like a sword newly drawn from its sheath, cold and sharp, concealing nothing of his hostility.

"Put him in that old room to the north. That room is the most fitting for someone as unsociable as him." Adalee's voice was frenzied, like a particularly ugly shriek.

The butler hesitated slightly, then quietly complied.

Leslie followed the butler, and once outside the parlor's door, he understood — in this home, he was truly the real outsider.

*

On the other side.

Before the night had fully fallen, Shu Li and Herens arrived at their destination.

The building was a two-story structure with a small square courtyard in the center, at the center of which stood a small fountain bearing a sculpture of a saint. The fountain's water murmured and gurgled, lending liveliness to the solemn little courtyard.

Each priest had their own independent small room of about six square meters, with a bed, a writing desk, and a small window, but no private bathing room inside. The washroom could be found in the east wing of the courtyard.

"The cafeteria is in the public canteen over at our cathedral. If you need to prepare your own food, you may use the kitchen." Once the deacon had finished giving the complete introduction and confirmed neither Shu Li nor Herens had further questions, he parted ways with them.

After entering his room and confirming no one was nearby, Herens said to Shu Li: "Is it just me, or did I find the Carson City cathedral people fairly courteous?"

When he had first confirmed the room, he'd found only a single bed inside, so he had asked the deacon for a set of bedding and a straw mat to put on the floor. By the time he and Shu Li had made a full round, the things were already ready and waiting.

The truth was, Herens hadn't often heard people say anything good about Carson City. For instance, the cathedral clergy would place a donation box beside the free water well for travelers, encouraging offerings — and if a traveler truly didn't donate, they'd typically be subjected to a round of unpleasant muttering and mockery. Or the Carson City cathedral clergy were particularly fond of passing off inferior goods, giving people things that were about to spoil.

And so in Herens's mind, the Carson City clergy were sharp-tongued and cutting. Yet arriving here mentally prepared for that, he found the person who had received them to be reasonably pleasant to deal with — not warm and attentive, but responsive when asked questions, and quite reliable.

Shu Li had no particular thoughts on this, only saying: "Perhaps it's because we happened to get a good deacon — isn't that a good thing?"

Herens thought for a moment and could only vaguely agree: "That's true."

The words had barely left his mouth when another thought flashed through Herens's mind: "Could it be because of the particularly special gift Father Alistair prepared? So we received a warm welcome? Just now coming along the road, I heard that Father Symeon of Stonehollow pastoral district has sent an extremely precious marble divine image — the whole city has been talking about it, and even his arrival is greatly anticipated."

As for the marble divine image, Shu Li had heard about it along the way as well. The statue had already caught the attention of the new Duchess on the first day it arrived, and she intended to keep it in her private prayer chamber after the wedding concluded. These rumors spread further and further, growing more and more enticing. Those who wanted to see it could do so on the day of the duke's wedding, when the statue would be briefly put on public display — after which it would be permanently housed within the manor and shown to no one again. Being so close at hand, Shu Li had privately resolved that whatever it took, he would go see it up close and feast his eyes when the time came. They said it was a rare and matchless artistic treasure — the pinnacle of marble carving. Not just believers who were captivated by it; even those with no particular religious feeling had been struck by its craftsmanship and mystery. Some said the statue was beauty beyond the ordinary world, and that standing before it produced a sense of inexplicable awe and stillness. This rumor was extremely contagious, and many people were hoping to catch a glimpse of it on the duke's wedding day.

Band had said he would also take an hour to bring Finnian to see the divine image that day.

By comparison, the gift Shu Li had sent in late June was on the level of a street stall.

"I didn't send anything particularly special as a gift," Shu Li said.

The words had just fallen when a long, solemn bell resonated through the air, lingering in the silent night. The sound was steady and deep, slowly permeating every corner and reverberating through every inch of quiet.

Shu Li instinctively looked toward the bell tower outside the window and asked: "That tall tower outside — that's the venue for the duke's wedding, right?"

Saying this, Shu Li found himself actually somewhat looking forward to what lay ahead.

After all, he had never attended anyone's wedding — perhaps it would be a very good experience.

Of course, this was what he thought before three clergymen died in succession.

At this moment, Shu Li was completely unaware of what would happen one after another in the days to come.