TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 66

Albin shook the bandage in his hand, looking smug.

This thing was really useful! His trap plan was a complete success—hooray!

Since he had no evidence that Mr. Dragon was actually his father, he could only come up with a way to test it.

He made himself look pitiful. If Mr. Dragon really was his dad, he should react.

The only kind of script he could think of that suited him was based on spoilers he’d overheard from comics, so he tried to imitate them.

He hadn’t expected it to work so well.

Could it be that his acting skills were top-notch? That he had fooled Dad so easily?

Albin stroked his chin, surprised to discover he might actually have a talent for acting. What an unexpected delight.

But what thrilled him even more was clearly the fact that he had caught his dad!

Albin squinted happily, his heart overflowing with joy.

He had only given this address to Mr. Dragon—so Mr. Dragon really was his father!

Damn! Dad had kept it from him for so long!

And yet Dad was super cool! He liked him so, so much.

And still he hadn’t told him! He had even tricked him! He had missed out on so many, so many chances to ride a dragon.

Big meanie!

Albin grumbled his silent accusations in his heart as he walked into the inn with light steps, searching for Zeman’s trace.

“Dad!” He spotted that white figure and couldn’t hold back his shout.

But the person didn’t turn around at all. Albin froze for a moment, then, driven by his impatience, rushed forward without thinking, circling around to the front.

He lifted his head excitedly, only to meet a pair of pitch-black eyes—and a strange face.

“Da—” His voice cut off abruptly.

Albin stood frozen in place.

This person… wasn’t Dad?

“Do you need something?” The white-haired, black-eyed man looked at him with a blank face, his eyes devoid of warmth.

Albin stared hard at him, trying to find similarities with Zeman.

From the build and hair color, this man looked like his father, but once he saw him head-on, Albin noticed the fabric of his clothes wasn’t as fine, the style not quite the same—there weren’t any other similarities at all.

The certainty in Albin’s gaze gradually turned to confusion. He staggered back a step.

Had he been mistaken? Mr. Dragon wasn’t Dad, and Dad hadn’t come at all?

Had he lost Dad again?

The sadness he had worked so hard to suppress suddenly surged up, his crimson eyes brimming with mist.

The man averted his gaze. Seeing Albin silent, he didn’t say more, just moved to walk past him.

“Wait a minute!” Albin, still unwilling to give up, leapt forward, hugged him, and pressed his ear against his chest.

The man froze. His hands twitched, almost raising to embrace back, but as soon as he realized something, he tried to step away—only to have Albin clutch tightly at his clothes.

Listening to that familiar heartbeat, Albin’s confusion slowly melted away.

He had often leaned against Dad’s chest, falling asleep to that comforting heartbeat. There was no way he’d mistake it.

“You are my dad!” he declared, firm and loud.

He glared angrily at the man before him.

A face could be fake, disguised with dark magic—he could do that himself.

He just didn’t understand why this man refused to admit it.

“You’ve got the wrong person,” the black-eyed man said flatly, pushing him away and turning to leave.

Albin stomped his foot, tears welling in his eyes, and huffed angrily:

“Big meanie! If you walk away and abandon me, tomorrow I’ll go find that rotten rat and make him my dad instead!”

The black-eyed man stopped dead in his tracks.

And that step completely exposed his identity.

From the moment he entered the inn, Zeman had already sensed that there wasn’t a trace of any monster aura here.

In such a confined space, even monsters like Padma—adept at concealing their aura—couldn’t escape his senses, so he shouldn’t have been mistaken.

The inn truly held no trace of the rat.

Eager to rescue his son, Zeman realized right away that he had fallen into Albin’s trap.

And Albin’s eager call right after confirmed it even more.

At that moment, instead of anger, what rose in his heart was pure relief.

Thank goodness—Albin hadn’t fallen into the rat’s hands.

But immediately after, he realized he couldn’t reveal himself, so he used dark magic to disguise his appearance.

Given his identity and strength, he usually defeated monsters head-on. Besides, the Sun Temple had always looked down on the Night Temple’s skulking ways of assassination and concealment. So even though he had mastered dark magic, he rarely used it.

At the very least, Albin didn’t know that he could use dark magic.

But he hadn’t expected that the child would still recognize him.

Hearing Albin’s angry threat, Zeman finally couldn’t help but furrow his brow.

Perhaps the success of catching him with a trap had made Albin fall into a kind of path dependence—Albin was now even disregarding his own safety.

Even knowing that the Rat was no good, he still dared to say something like that.

Zeman found this utterly headache-inducing.

He turned back, dispelled the disguise magic on himself, and met Albin’s ecstatic gaze.

His voice was cold:

“Don’t you dare say such things. Your threats are useless against me.”

Albin blinked, stunned by the scolding, then the anger and grievance inside him swelled like a balloon about to burst.

“Hmph! You don’t want to be my dad anyway, so I’ll say whatever I want and you can’t stop me!” he retorted, still trying to provoke Zeman. “If you dare walk away, then I dare go find the Rat to be my dad!”

A hint of smugness lingered on his face.

As if to say: See? Just by saying this, I made you tear off your disguise. Even if you leave, once I find Rat-dad, you’ll definitely come back.

But hearing him call that creature “Rat-dad,” Zeman grew even more furious.

He was angry that Albin didn’t care about his own safety, and also worried that Albin might actually follow through.

After all, children were stubborn. And Albin didn’t understand how dangerous that Rat really was—what if he was tricked away in his ignorance?

He had to teach Albin a lesson, to make sure he would never dare say such things again.

With that thought, Zeman’s gaze deepened, his expression turning stern.

He hoisted Albin up and carried him sideways into an empty room.

For the first time being slung over Zeman’s shoulder, Albin had a bad feeling. He struggled, but it was no use.

Zeman sat down in a chair, placed Albin face-down across his lap, pinned him with one hand pressed firmly on his back, and raised the other hand to strike his bottom.

The blow wasn’t strong, dulled further by the thick winter clothes, and there wasn’t much pain at all—yet Albin was completely stunned.

“You actually spanked me!” he shouted, puffing up his cheeks, his face red, fury blazing in his chest. He writhed like a fish out of water, struggling wildly. “Big meanie!”

Even his big brother had never spanked him!

Zeman’s voice was sharp and cold:

“Will you still say those kinds of things again? Hmm?”

Albin twisted his head, glaring at him stubbornly.

“I will! I will say it!”

Zeman’s hand came down again.

Albin, fuming like a little puffed-up pufferfish, cried out in anger and grievance:

“You don’t even want me anymore, so why do you care what I do? Big liar! You promised to be my dad, you promised to take me to the Rose Kingdom! If you were going to break your word, why did you promise me in the first place? You should’ve just let him take me away from the beginning!”

He argued unreasonably:

“Back then, if you hadn’t become my dad, the Rat would have taken me. So now it’s the same! Go ahead and leave—I’ll let him take me instead!”

“Even if I leave, Edward and the others will take good care of you.”

“I don’t care! You promised me back then—how can you run away now? Liar!”

“Didn’t Edward tell you? If you stay by my side, you’ll be in danger.”

“I don’t accept such a ridiculous reason! Even if it’s true, I won’t accept it! If I’m in danger, then Dad, you’ll definitely be in even more danger.” He muttered, but his tone was firm: “I can’t abandon you.”

Zeman faltered, loosening his grip.

Albin seized the chance, slipping away in a flash. He eyed him warily, then quickly cast light magic, binding Zeman to the chair with golden chains.

Now, not only could Zeman not spank him, but he couldn’t run away either.

Albin raised his chin proudly, hands on his hips, very pleased with himself.

“Anyway, I won’t accept that kind of excuse to end our promise! Before it’s fulfilled, I absolutely won’t let you run away again!”

The golden chains, like Albin’s resolve, bound Zeman firmly and unshakably.

“No matter where you try to escape, I’ll catch you and face the danger with you.” His red eyes, glowing in the golden light, stared at him with unwavering determination.

“Dad, you can choose not to tell me your little secrets. But I can also choose how I act. I won’t let you push me around, and I won’t let you disappear without a word.”

“Unless…” Albin’s expression grew tense. “Unless the danger is just an excuse, and the truth is you’re tired of me. You hate me, and you want to throw me away.”

He was terrified Zeman might actually say so—terrified of that answer.

And yet, part of him also hoped for it. At least it would mean Dad wasn’t truly in danger.

Conflicting thoughts tore at him, and the chains binding Zeman seemed to tremble slightly.

The golden light illuminated the room, cloaking Zeman in a holy glow.

Zeman’s heart had already been softened. Even when disciplining his child, he restrained himself carefully, afraid of hurting him.

Lowering his gaze to the chains, he couldn’t help but feel gratified—Albin’s magic had grown stronger, his child had grown fangs of his own. But this magic was still far from enough to truly restrain him.

He had countless ways to break free and leave. And if he left now, he wouldn’t fall for this little trick again—Albin would never catch him a second time.

But he didn’t break free.

He looked at the stubborn, aggrieved child before him. He knew Albin would never let this go.

And he himself… could not bring himself to say that he hated Albin.

After a long silence, Zeman spoke in a low, heavy voice:

“What if… the me of the future will kill you?”

“…Huh?” Albin was dumbstruck.

Why?

He couldn’t fathom why such a thing would ever happen.

How could Dad possibly kill him? Did that mean Dad really hated him?

Albin didn’t believe it.

He was just about to ask when a long-lost but familiar voice sounded from behind.

“Stay away from him, Xiao Bai.”

Albin suddenly felt his back press into a cold, eerie embrace. The figure behind him bent down, the soft crow-feathers on his fur collar brushing his neck, pale hands wrapping around to pull him backward—away from Zeman.

Albin froze where he stood.

That familiar voice filled him with disbelief.

He turned around in shock—and saw the face he knew better than anyone.

“Brother?”

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