Because of the knight commander's words—"may not return"—Jian Qiao immediately jumped into the carriage and rushed to the ducal residence.
He wanted to exchange himself with Rege. He was afraid of dying, but he was even more afraid Rege would die for him.
After knocking on the door of the ducal residence, he learned from the butler that both Rege and the old Duke had gone to the military camp. The two of them, father and son, would march to the battlefield together.
Jian Qiao hurried to the barracks again, but he didn't even get through the door. Rege firmly refused to see him.
Jian Qiao stood outside the camp and waited. If Rege didn't come out, he wouldn't go back.
But he overestimated his ability. He didn't even get a chance to use this tactic. Rege sent a few soldiers to directly kidnap him back to the hotel, and instructed his two manservants to keep him locked up in the bedroom.
It wasn't until the day the army marched away that Jian Qiao regained his freedom.
With a pallid face he climbed the tall gatehouse at the entrance to the city and looked down.
Rege, wearing black armor, rode on horseback at the forefront, and the old Duke was half a length behind him. This time the Grande father and son were the chief and vice commanders of the army. Prince Andrew, the culprit who instigated the war, followed behind them with burgeoning ambition hidden in his eyes, unreconciled to his subordinate position.
He wanted to use the war to establish his position as crown prince, and he needed a remarkable military success to show off his prowess. As for how many people would die in the war, he didn't care at all. Perhaps the massacre of three hundred people was no more than a means for him to provoke the outbreak of hostilities.
"Rege, Rege!" Jian Qiao was leaning over the wall, shouting again and again until his throat was hoarse.
There were many other people shouting with him. They stood on the city walls watching their sons, husbands, friends, brothers... walk away. Some of the soldiers in the army might never return.
Thinking of this, Jian Qiao shouted even more urgently. Half his body was already stretched over the city wall, so he almost fell straight down. The two servants quickly held his waist.
Jian Qiao really wanted to jump down and fall directly into Rege's arms. That way he could exchange their places.
His shouts were drowned out in the tidal wave of calls.
At that moment Rege seemed to sense something. He turned his head and looked straight at Jian Qiao. His handsome face was without a hint of expression, like it was carved by a knife, and there were no ripples in his azure eyes.
He just looked at Jian Qiao quietly, his gaze so deep it seemed about to suck the other person in.
Jian Qiao was fixed by his overly focused gaze.
The two were far apart in their own time and space, far apart from the crowd, and looked at each other for a long time.
Hot teardrops welled up in Jian Qiao's red eyes, but Rege withdrew his gaze. He clamped his heels into his horse's flanks, forcing the stallion beneath him to gallop forward, departing Grande at a faster pace.
Jian Qiao braced himself against the wall with both hands, hastily leaning over as he shouted, "Rege, Rege, come back!"
The two manservants not only hugged his waist, they also held his legs. If no one had stopped him, he would have jumped down just now!
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A Scumbag Always Gets What He Deserves
幻想As a child, Jian Qiao was betrayed by his parents. As an adult, he was stabbed through the heart by a woman he barely knew but claimed to love him. If there was one truth he'd learned, it was that love was destruction. Rege Grande was a formidable w...
