Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 122
Shiloh tiptoed through the corridor, though he didn’t really need to be so cautious, as the carpet was of such good quality that it absorbed most of the sound of his footsteps.
Still, he was startled when he saw someone coming towards him, and immediately relaxed when he saw it was the Knight Commander.
Shivers raised an eyebrow at him. “Where have you been?”
Shiloh’s gaze wandered. “Just walked around outside… It’s my first time in White Bridge.”
“Oh,” Shivers said softly. “But I didn’t hear the sound of a carriage.”
The functional zones of the inner city were clearly divided: the auction house, reading hall, opera house, and clubs were all concentrated in the central part, radiating out into five areas—guest area, food and shopping area, transportation and logistics area, and two management areas occupied by the Wolf and Monkey families.
Their location in the guest area was chosen to be peaceful amid the bustle, and was the farthest from other areas, necessitating the use of carriages or other means of transportation—even if the distance wasn’t far, those staying in the guest area of White Bridge wouldn’t usually demean themselves by walking.
Shiloh didn’t hold much hope of lying to the Knight Commander and quickly gave up resisting. “I just wanted to chat with them for a bit.”
He was referring to the mercenaries who had been idly earning their keep since entering Fortuna City.
Thanks to the lead navigation of the “Azalea”, they had traveled safely, and even if they had encountered pirates, a few knights were confident they could protect the Duke’s safety. The mercenaries were just there to bolster their numbers.
But from the Duke to the mercenaries, none thought this trade was a loss. Like successful businessmen who often flaunt their wealth with extravagant houses and jewelry, security forces were a symbol of one’s class status. Erica even provided them with uniform combat suits to boost their appearance.
Shiloh wasn’t naive enough to be attracted by the mercenaries’ aura of danger and rough manners. He was only interested in their adventurous experiences and some insider information—unlike them, he was a complete outsider in White Bridge, but mercenaries, especially those with long-term service, had experience in similar missions and sometimes shared intelligence among themselves. They knew a lot more than expected.
But they weren’t willing to share.
Shiloh’s usually successful, charming demeanor hit a wall with these mercenaries, who were more indifferent than most. They were willing to interact with Eugene and even had a respectful admiration for Hasting, but they only ignored Shiloh. Whenever they gathered together, whispering and occasionally bursting into ambiguous collective laughter, Shiloh’s presence would abruptly stop the warm atmosphere, their mouths clamping shut tighter than clamshells.
The sense of not being able to fit in was secondary. The obvious resistance was rather hurtful.
Shiloh himself was still a young man, from a well-to-do family, and of high quality. He had never been so disliked before. When questioned by the Knight Commander, a defiant look appeared on his face.
Shivers laughed and pinched his mouth even tighter. “They avoid you for another reason.”
Shiloh’s round eyes widened, filled with more confusion.
“There are many activities here not suitable for minors,” Shivers said. “They just think you’re still a child.”
Though tall, Shiloh clearly possessed the vibrant spirit unique to youth.
“Some activities in White Bridge aren’t quite suitable for bedtime stories.” Shivers released Shiloh’s mouth. “We’d better not create unnecessary complications.”
Shiloh understood. “You mean those programs?”
Besides the auction catalogs, there were many flyers distributed daily here, more punctual than the official newspapers of the capital. These included content for first-time visitors as well as various invitations, which were written in slang about various enhancers and price lists.
Most of these programs were written ambiguously, incomprehensible to most—a surprising fact was that the mercenaries seemed to vaguely understand some of them. Hasting had once taken one to consult with them.
The mercenaries were polite to Hasting, and since he was after all their employer and these things had nothing to do with their contract, they had somewhat freely “translated” it for him.
To sum it up in a word, it was utterly vulgar and bizarre.
Anyway, after knowing what those slangs meant, the Duke’s gaze at the invitations was like looking at a virus, and Shivers also found it too… indescribable.
Nobility, especially those from ancient noble circles, weren’t strangers to sordid affairs. Shiloh was no fool. Realizing this, he silently made an “O” shape with his mouth.
“Our Lord has already gone to sleep. You don’t need to be so careful,” Shivers said.
The little foodie, Emerald, unexpectedly had a lot of spirit. Since the crow buffet, it hadn’t eaten anything, but it also refused to give in. After moving in, the Duke spent all day and every day enduring it in the bedroom, and with the newly awakened Emerald being extremely energetic, both parties were very tired and irritable.
“When will Mr. Charlie come back?” Shiloh was a bit disheartened. The Duke’s personality had changed a lot during this period on the Doran Continent. He had almost forgotten how arrogant, mysophobic, and moody his master used to be.
In recent days, the Duke’s practical actions had reminded everyone of his skill at making those around him unhappy when he himself was displeased.
Actually, Shiloh didn’t think too much. He simply felt that the Duke’s temper was better when the rabbit-headed shopkeeper was around, making everyone more relaxed.
There were people in the world who, like a gentle breeze or a soft stream, possessed qualities that were independent of their appearance or status, and could only be truly felt after spending time with them.
Shiloh didn’t dare say it out loud, but sometimes he secretly felt that in terms of dealing with people, the shopkeeper and the Duke were at two extremes.
Of course, Shivers knew that Shiloh was probably grumbling about the Duke internally. He curved his finger, intending to flick this troublesome guy on the forehead, but Shiloh immediately covered his messy, curly-haired forehead.
“I’m just worried about him,” Shiloh defended. “I didn’t say anything—”
“If you’re really bored, just watch over the Lord for a while for me.” Shivers sighed, dropping his hand.
Shiloh wouldn’t refuse work, but he was curious. “Are you going out again?”
“I need to contact Erica,” Shivers replied. “It’s much easier to arrange a meeting here than in Mokwen.”
……
Dwight wanted to see Priscilla for two reasons: firstly, to see for himself how she was doing physically, and secondly, to make some early preparations for the auction.
They had eyes and ears in Syriacochi, but the information was somewhat delayed. Instead, it was from Yitzfa where reports arrived more promptly—yet, since entering White Bridge, they hadn’t encountered anyone from the Fox family or any of their agents.
This was probably due to the family’s sense of territoriality. Although the Fox’s intelligence network was reputed to be omnipresent, they still ostensibly left a vacuum in White Bridge to maintain balance.
The last piece of news they had from Mokwen was that Lestrop had been seriously injured, affecting the army’s morale and leading to several retreats. Defeat seemed only a matter of time.
The more dire the situation, the more crucial Priscilla’s safety became. Dwight was still troubled by Kurt’s prophecy and saw this as an opportunity to meet with him and ask if his sister’s fate had diverged from the path he wished for her.
Yes, it had diverged.
That’s what Kurt had told him during their first meeting.
“Prophecy is not omnipotent, nor is it guaranteed to be fulfilled one hundred percent. The future, before it truly arrives, always has countless possible faces. Astrologers simply calculate and extract the most likely outcome,” the slender young man said. “This is the most likely fate as of now, much like a carriage traveling on a set route. I can tell you its routine destination, but if something happens along the way—maybe someone stops it midway, or perhaps a small stone gets lodged in the axle—in any case, the path will deviate because of this.”
Thus, Dwight rejected all the prudent advice around him and set off immediately. It turned out he was right. If he had followed normal procedures to request communication with Mokwen, his letter would have taken at least half a year to reach Priscilla, and by the time he waited for a reply and responded, it would have been too late.
Charlie’s target was also Kurt. If he could meet the astrologer first under the pretense of the Countess wanting to trade early, through Louis’s connection, he might at least learn what had happened to the normally reclusive Kurt. With the person himself cooperating, whatever means Charlie intended to use to extricate his friend would likely have a higher chance of success.
White Bridge was a place that ignored status and only recognized money. The Wolf and Monkey took client privacy very seriously, so those truly entering White Bridge often found their worldviews shattered by their play methods, and the involved parties naturally didn’t boast about their licentiousness here. That these secrets had never been leaked by the Black Gold Families proved their confidentiality skills.
Thus, the arrangement for the siblings’ meeting this time became much easier.
Brandenburg had been without a Lady for a long time. Both Dwight and Priscilla were still children when their mother passed away. The Duke of Brandenburg actually had little experience with adult women, so he was quite startled when he saw his sister’s significantly large belly.
The inadvertent awe on the brother’s face made Priscilla laugh. She didn’t rise but remained reclining on the chaise lounge, propped by several cushions, and gestured for him to come over.
Erica and Shivers both left the room, giving them privacy to talk.
Dwight was unusually at a loss for words. He had many questions, such as: Do all pregnant women have bellies this large? Or does it appear especially large because Priscilla is slim? Could there be twins inside such a large belly, or perhaps more? How many babies can a human have at once? It looks very dangerous…
But he was unsure if these questions were just common knowledge in the realm of childbirth. Even though the other party was his sister, he couldn’t just ask them outright. Embarrassment was secondary. The last thing he wanted was to cause Priscilla any panic.
Priscilla was in a good mood, though. Anyone whose body was heavy and burdened with various derived minor ailments and who could only lie down all day would be happy to have a relative come to keep them company.
Plus, she already knew of Lestrop’s inevitable defeat, which had been a heavy burden on her mind for a long time, now significantly relieved, making even her belly feel less heavy.
She didn’t rush to speak but took her brother’s hand and gently placed it on her stomach. Dwight’s fingertips were somewhat cold, and he remained motionless.
“He moves sometimes,” Priscilla said with a smile in her eyes. “Just wait and see.”
Actually, he had more serious matters to discuss with Priscilla, but he didn’t dare move his hand, and again wanted to ask silly questions like why babies move before they are born.
He didn’t want to be foolish, even if the other party was Priscilla.
“…Is it heavy?” Dwight finally asked.
“It’s heavy.” Priscilla blinked. Her limbs were swollen, but her face hadn’t distorted too severely, and her eyes were still bright. “Erica walks with me every day, but it’s getting harder.”
“Then just lie down,” Dwight said without hesitation.
Priscilla giggled and explained the importance of daily activity.
“There are three doctors arranged here.” Seeing her brother’s nervousness, Priscilla instead comforted him. “I brought one from Mokwen, and Ceylon added two more.”
“You mean Louis.” Dwight pursed his lips, a sign of his worsening mood.
Priscilla pretended not to notice. “Like you, he hasn’t experienced these things, so he’s a bit too nervous.”
“If he were nervous enough, you wouldn’t be pregnant,” Dwight said bluntly.
“My body is very uncomfortable. Please be a good uncle and don’t make me use my energy to coddle you right now,” Priscilla said.
Dwight: “……”
“Why don’t you tell him to be a good father?” he said. “Two doctors…”
“We’ve already separated.” Priscilla patted his hand. “And he’s already doing enough. You can be even more upset. I think what he’s doing is very romantic.”
The author has something to say:
Charlie and Louis have different paths, but both are very attractive to the opposite sex.
And the Duke is a rare example of a beautiful but ineffective male lead in Jinjiang.
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