TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 83

The marble-carved statue of the Goddess gazed softly at him. Those deep, tranquil eyes seemed to pierce Albin’s soul, soothing his trembling heart like a gentle breeze.

Albin held his breath.

His mind was in chaos, yet at the same time crystal clear.

No wonder he wanted to lean into the other’s embrace. No wonder his eyes could never leave the statue of the God of Love. No wonder the presence felt so familiar, making his nose sting again and again.

Mom…

He murmured silently in his heart.

I found you.

His surging emotions were hard to calm. All he wanted was to hurry back and take another look at that tree in the forbidden land.

“Dad, let’s hurry up and finish shopping so we can go back!” he said excitedly, his heart pounding as he tugged on Zeman’s hand and strode down the street. “I want to bring some gifts for Mr. Tiger’s family too! And for Uncle Edward!”

He wanted to thank Brother Edward and Mr. Tiger’s family for protecting his mom.

“Do you like the Rose Kingdom?” Zeman suddenly asked.

“Of course!” Albin replied brightly. “It just feels like there isn’t much messy discrimination here. Um—anyway, it feels like people here live pretty normal lives, and there are lots of smiles on everyone’s faces. Why is that?”

Maybe it was because the God of Love was his mother that he felt this way.

Before reaching Rose City, Albin and the others had passed through several cities in the Rose Kingdom as well. They were all relatively peaceful and tranquil.

If there was any major difference, it was that there seemed to be more city guards patrolling the streets.

After thinking for a moment, Zeman explained, “It probably has something to do with the temples.”

Aside from the Sun God Theocracy, which was completely ruled by religion, in most regions the power of the temples often clashed with local royal authority—and usually, the temples held the upper hand.

As a result, within a lord’s territory, it wasn’t uncommon for temples to overstep their authority and directly issue orders to lock down a city.

Local priests and lords frequently rubbed each other the wrong way. Both sides had their own armed forces. Many priests were also of noble birth, and both sides wanted to squeeze money out of the common people. But there was only so much money to go around—if one side took more, the other got less.

If the temple was relatively weak, like the Temple of Healing, things were manageable. But if it was something as powerful as the Temple of the Sun God—one that even interfered with secular law—then it became a case of two tigers unable to share one mountain, plunging everything into chaos.

Once the lords found themselves at a disadvantage, they would look for ways to cut public spending, raise taxes, or replace the temple’s personnel with their own people.

Zeman had often heard of such matters when he was at the Temple of the Sun God.

But the Rose Kingdom was a special case.

First, the priests of the Temple of the God of Love all had other things they were passionate about. Compared to others, they had less interest in money and power. For some priests, scheming every day and dealing with nobles—let alone interfering in governance—was far less appealing than staying home with the dolls they loved.

Over time, the Temple of the God of Love, much like its physical location, drifted away from the political center and held little control over the populace.

Of course, there were still those who genuinely loved wealth and power.

That led to the second unique feature of the Rose Kingdom—Edward’s identity.

As the only child of the current king, Edward was the unquestioned next monarch. All the lords of the realm would be his vassals. Every few generations, members of the royal family also served concurrently as priests.

In other words, the feuding priests and lords were both his subordinates. Both sides could come to him with complaints. As long as he wasn’t overly biased, the priests and lords would remain evenly matched—mutually restraining and supervising one another, locked in a delicate balance.

There were cases of collusion, of course, but overall they were rare and difficult to carry out too blatantly.

“Complaining about each other!” Albin listened with only a hazy understanding, but he felt that the situation didn’t sound too bad. “That actually sounds pretty nice… Can’t other countries do that too?”

The moment the question left his mouth, he realized the answer.

“Ah—other gods take over their priests’ bodies…”

Correct.

Zeman patted his head.

Those gods would never make impartial decisions and then share power with human rulers.

“The God of Love has never interfered in such matters. On top of that, Edward’s elders have served as priests many times before. That’s how today’s Rose Kingdom came to be.”

Hearing this, Albin couldn’t help but puff out his chest with pride.

Hehe—his mom really was different!

But then he immediately thought of how his mother had once been bullied by the other gods, of how he didn’t know when she would recover, and of how the weapon that had hurt her was now bound to his wrist.

He puffed out his cheeks, seething internally.

—The Sun God is a big bad guy! A huge bad guy!

—I’ll draw a circle and curse you! Curse you to turn into a big turtle!

…

While he was fully absorbed in condemning the other gods, he suddenly heard Zeman say, “Since you like this place so much, would you choose to stay in this city in the future?”

“Huh?” Albin snapped back to reality and blinked. “I wasn’t planning on that. Dad, did you forget? I want to become a holy child to help everyone.”

Zeman raised his brows in surprise. “But if you stay here, you can also become a holy child…”

The Temple of the God of Love didn’t have a holy child yet. If Albin stayed, he could become one—and stay by his mother’s side.

“Well, I could,” Albin admitted, “but Brother Edward is doing a great job here already, and there isn’t really anything that needs my help. Compared to that, I want to go to places that do need help, so people elsewhere can live as well as those in the Rose Kingdom!”

“If I’m the child of the God of Love, then I should help everyone even more!”

In Albin’s mind, gods were supposed to do good deeds and help people. Gods who did wrong were supposed to be punished. Even Zhu Bajie was cast down to the mortal world and turned into a pig for making mistakes.

Of course, he didn’t think he was a god. But since his mom couldn’t move right now, he could help everyone on her behalf.

Maybe that would even help her recover faster.

Albin planted his hands on his hips smugly and explained his thoughts to Zeman. “When Mom wakes up, I have to make her proud of me.”

Just like bringing home a test paper with a perfect score!

Zeman was momentarily speechless, then the corners of his lips slowly curved into a smile.

For such a young child to have thoughts like these was already something to be proud of. What’s more, Albin had already helped many people without even realizing it.

Zeman glanced back at the statue of the God of Love not far away.

You think so too, don’t you?

“Oh right—Dad, is there anywhere you want to go after the New Year?” Albin continued walking forward, tilting his head as he waited for an answer.

Zeman shook his head. “What about you?”

After some hesitation, Albin said, “I was thinking of trying to apply to become a holy child at some temple, but I’m not sure if I should travel to more places first.”

Traveling around would indeed broaden his horizons, but he didn’t know whether he’d still have that opportunity after joining a temple.

Come to think of it, temples should allow family accompaniment, right? Back when Margo was at the Temple of the Wine God, she brought her mother along too.

Feeling a bit lost, he sought his father’s guidance.

“Do what you want to do,” Zeman said gently, stroking his hair. “I’ll stay by your side, continue to teach you, and I will never allow the gods to harm you.”

“Thank you, Dad!” Albin hugged him, finally making up his mind to try the temple first.

If the temple didn’t let him go out, he’d just sneak out on his own!

He chuckled to himself, then suddenly remembered something. “Dad, about Brother Padma…”

—

After Albin and Zeman finished buying the gifts and returned, they were planning to find an opportunity to see Edward and ask whether they could go to the forbidden land. Before they could do so, however, Emerald came rushing toward him in a panic and shouted:

“Albin, Padma is gone!”

Albin froze. “Brother Padma? What happened?”

Emerald led him toward Padma’s room while explaining as they walked, “When I came back from the forest, I realized Padma was missing. Mu’en didn’t see where he went either.”

After all, Padma was staying in a temple—it was hard not to worry that something had gone wrong.

Padma’s door wasn’t locked, so they entered easily and began searching for any trace of him.

The bed showed no signs of having been slept in. It was very likely that Padma hadn’t returned at all after dinner the night before.

What remained in the room was Padma’s suitcase, and…

Mu’en’s sharp gaze fell upon a doll placed by the bedside. He picked it up. The doll was made in Albin’s likeness, lifelike and exquisitely crafted—its workmanship far surpassed his own by several leagues.

That fox…

Mu’en ground his teeth.

Albin, however, didn’t notice any of this. Once he realized that Padma might not have been in his room at all last night, he grew terribly anxious and hurried outside.

Just last night, he had said good night to Brother Padma… If only he had slept together with him last night.

Albin rushed off to ask Edward, but Edward didn’t know Padma’s whereabouts either.

Albin then questioned the guards along the way, running farther and farther out.

He prayed silently.

Mom, please let me find Brother Padma…

His eyes searched frantically as his thoughts spiraled.

Had Brother Padma gone to look for work?

Would that marchioness treat Brother Padma well?

Would they still be able to see each other in the future?

Questions kept popping up in Albin’s mind, until at last, following the guards’ directions, a pink figure appeared within his field of vision.

That slender, handsome figure was standing on a bridge outside the temple, both hands resting on a vine-wrapped wooden railing. He was looking down at the river. The corners of his mouth, usually lifted in a smile, were flat, his brows tightly furrowed, as though he were deep in thought.

“Brother Padma!” Albin ran over, panting hard, and stopped in front of him, bracing his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

Hearing his voice, Padma turned around in surprise and confusion, not understanding why Albin had come looking for him in such a hurry.

“Don’t go…” Albin clutched his sleeve, speaking before he’d even caught his breath, his words coming out in fragments. “I don’t want Brother Padma to leave…”

This wasn’t like when they had just met. They’d spent quite some time together now, and to Albin, Padma was like family.

He regretted it—he didn’t want Brother Padma to go work as someone else’s steward at all.

Once he finally caught his breath, he clung to Padma in a shameless hug, looking up at him pitifully.

“If Brother Padma wants to find a job, can I hire you? I’ve already talked it over with Dad. I don’t want Brother Padma to leave.”

Padma’s expression shifted from confusion to realization, tinged with complexity.

He slowly lifted a standard polite smile, bent slightly at the waist, extended his hand, and asked with a gentle grin, “Do you want to become my master?”

Albin understood that “master” referred to the one a steward served, but he still found the term a little uncomfortable.

He shook his head and let go.

Padma’s smile gradually faded—but Albin suddenly wrapped both arms around his neck and hung onto him mischievously, declaring with conviction, “You should be your own master! I don’t want to be anyone’s master. I really like Brother Padma—I just want Brother Padma to be my family!”

Brimming with resolve, he added, “I’ll work hard to support Brother Padma!”

Those rose-crystal eyes fixed on the child before him, Padma suddenly let out a long sigh.

“I really can’t bring myself to hate you.”

Albin blinked in confusion. “Did I do something bad that made you hate me? Brother Padma can tell me! I’ll try my best to fix it!”

Padma shook his head. He set Albin down and used his fingers like a comb to tidy Albin’s messy hair, ruffled from running over in such a rush.

He gazed at the bright, beaming face turned up toward him.

This was a god’s child. Divine blood flowed in this child’s veins… He hated the gods, so he should have hated this child too, just as he hated himself.

But no matter what, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t cut himself off from this softness.

He was torn by contradiction, unsure how to face the child, strange emotions welling up in his heart.

Only now, upon hearing the child say he wanted them to be family, did he finally understand what those strange feelings were.

It wasn’t that he was rejecting the part of Albin that belonged to the gods.

He was jealous.

Jealous that the divine race he despised could have a child like this. Jealous that the gods were this child’s most rightful family.

Should he retreat? Should he distance himself from the child?

Of course not.

He thought darkly.

Why should only the lofty gods be allowed to have all that is beautiful?

That’s right—he was ugly, base, despicable, filled with envy, revolting. But he still wanted, just like the gods, to have this child.

He removed the white gloves that separated him from everything, and with his hands as a demon, gently pinched Albin’s soft cheek.

This wasn’t something a servant should do to a master, nor something a dark demon should do to a god’s child.

But so what? This child was his family.

He had said as much before priests, and in the future—even before the gods themselves—he would say the same.

Having found Padma again, Albin happily brought him back.

The moment Padma returned, he was met with Mu’en’s unfriendly gaze.

Heh—the Night God.

Padma scoffed inwardly and glared back without backing down.

Reassured at last, Albin ate lunch with them, then excitedly told them all about who his mother was. As soon as the meal was over, he hurried off to find Edward, intending to go to the forbidden land to see his mom.

After he left, the atmosphere at the table changed abruptly.

Padma held the silver fork used only at southern tables, all smiles wiped from his face.

“Since the gods conspired to murder the God of Love, then if the gods were to discover that child’s identity as the God of Love’s son…”

Would the gods spare Albin?

Zeman’s expression was icy. “I won’t let that happen.”

Mu’en said as well, “I’ll protect my little brother.”

Emerald propped his chin up with the tip of his tail. “Then… should we kill gods too?”

He thought of what had happened in the dream.

Hm. He didn’t know whether it had succeeded there.

Padma smiled gently. “You’re right.”

Because of the curse, they had already planned to kill gods in the first place. But this time, without Albin mediating between them, their resolve had been more scattered.

Now, however—for the peaceful future Albin wanted, for Albin’s safety, and to lift the curse—they chose without hesitation to once again walk the path of god-slaying.

The matters of adults should, of course, be handled by adults. This time, they couldn’t let a child charge into battle for them again.

While Albin knew nothing of it, his family reached a subtle agreement.

Once the god-slaying strategy meeting came to an end—

“Now we should talk about this.”

Using a tone meant for serious business, Mu’en took out the doll found in Padma’s room and looked coldly at him.

Padma’s expression stiffened for a moment, then he smiled. “What? Jealous?”

Heh. Clumsy hands.

The subtle cooperation shattered in an instant.

—

Albin noticed, somewhat unexpectedly, that everyone seemed to be getting along better. Sometimes the adults would even send him away and whisper about something in private.

Were they preparing New Year’s gifts for him?

Albin had actually been secretly preparing something himself, so he grew even more excited.

On the day before the New Year, they attended a banquet at the Rose Kingdom’s royal palace. High-ranking nobles of all kinds gathered together; even the napkins and forks were embroidered with the rose emblem.

Graceful dance music echoed through the castle’s banquet hall. Gentlemen in embroidered coats invited ladies in long gowns onto the dance floor, where they danced elegantly.

Wearing the formal outfit Edward had prepared for him, Albin eagerly weaved through the crowd—but no matter how he searched, he couldn’t find Zeman.

Puzzled, he asked Padma, “Where did Dad go? Hasn’t he arrived yet?”

Padma shook his head. Just as Albin was about to go outside to look, the doors to the banquet hall opened, and the guards announced the identity of the newcomer.

With so many nobles present—including many from other countries—announcements upon entry were necessary to avoid confusion or mishaps.

Albin had already heard about many foreign nobles and priests attending, and this time, the guards called out:

“—His Holiness, the Pope of the Sun God Temple of the Saint Sunflower Theocracy.”

The once-bustling hall instantly fell silent. Everyone turned their gaze toward the distinguished figure, whispering among themselves in surprise at the pope’s arrival.

Albin’s curiosity was piqued as well.

Come to think of it, the carriage they’d taken to the Rose Kingdom had been provided by the pope!

Albin remembered him as a good person and craned his neck, wanting to sneak a look at what he looked like.

But everyone in front of him was taller. Even standing on tiptoe, he couldn’t see the pope through the crowd.

Just as he was about to give up, the people in front of him suddenly parted to either side, as if welcoming someone.

A figure walked straight toward him.

The man wore a luxurious white ceremonial robe, embroidered with exquisite runes and inlaid with dazzling gemstones that shimmered as he moved. A crimson-lined cloak trimmed in gold billowed slightly, the golden chain at his shoulders chiming softly.

“D-Dad…?”

That snow-white hair and crimson eyes were so familiar—yet everyone around him bowed and greeted his father as “Your Holiness.”

Albin was stunned.

Pope Zeman slowly walked up to him. The cold severity in his expression melted away, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. His clear, familiar voice reached Albin’s ears.

“Happy New Year, my little Holy Child.”

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