The Cake

Alexander was more than willing to offer Miss Laura a position. Having just endured the disdain of a noblewoman, he found a strange kinship with Laura's current predicament. Social class might be determined at birth, but every individual possessed the right to choose their own path in life. Alexander's thoughts were rebellious and unyielding. He realized that perhaps the year spent with his younger brother had fully awakened the pride within him.

Born to the countryside, nourished by the Valra River, he had grown up running through the verdant hills and clear waters of Valra Town. Alexander felt no shame in his origins, but he was deeply offended by the treatment he had received.

This anger, however, wasn't directed at the noble lady herself, but rather at the aristocracy's discrimination against their kind—a quiet fury that fueled Alexander's silent defiance. Originally, he had intended to live a leisurely life in Black Swan City, engaging in business only occasionally. Even the soap business, which brought in a fortune almost daily, Alexander managed with normal diligence—he had inherited Old Doug's spirit of contentment and joy.

During the decade his brother vanished, Alexander immersed himself in mysticism and legends. He was a perfectly competent heir—but only competent. His life lacked drive and ambition, drifting along with the current.

Even after finding his brother, Alexander had only wished to continue living happily together. It was this trip to the imperial city, fueled by frustration, that finally spurred him into action.

Alexander began seriously contemplating his future path. If he merely aspired to be a nouveau riche tycoon, the soap factory alone could fund the purchase of a new estate in the southern countryside near Black Swan. He could live out his days in comfort and dignity.

But this time, Alexander broadened his horizons. He carefully analyzed the entire situation and then privately sought out Dr. Charlemagne.

Dr. Charlemagne had been deeply troubled lately. A stern and uncompromising man, he was gaunt with thin lips, and the words that emerged from them were rarely pleasant to hear.

Before his rise to prominence, everyone had called him eccentric and difficult to deal with. Now that he was in a position of power, Charlemagne was constantly bombarded with flattery and persistent attention. He couldn't even go out for a stroll in the imperial city without being mobbed!

So when Alexander arrived, Charlemagne's first words were: "Stand in the doorway. Say what you need to say, then get out."

Alexander froze. Thorn beside him offered a wry smile. Unlike his teacher, Thorn hadn't endured Charlemagne's hardships. Having faced life-and-death situations early on, he achieved success in his youth. This preserved a youthful vigor in his character, occasionally prompting him to joke with others.

"Doctor Charlemagne, I came specifically to ask if you need my help dealing with the disturbance outside?" Alexander instantly understood and quickly bit his tongue, cutting straight to the point.

Dr. Charlemagne's expression relaxed slightly. After a moment, he turned back to continue examining his instruments.

That must mean yes.

Alexander had gone out of his way to sweet-talk away the waiting crowd—nobles eager to thank the doctor or test the waters. Those lords didn't want to mingle with commoners buying medicine or staying at the relief center, so they'd each tried to send invitations for Dr. Charlemagne to visit them. No wonder the doctor had shut his doors in frustration.

This situation actually worked in Alexander's favor. He spent several days maneuvering before finally securing an opportunity to dine and discuss matters in detail with Doctor Charlemagne.

Thus, while everyone else remained hesitant and cautious, Alexander, acting on the Queen's instructions, cleared out an old, dilapidated building. Soon, countless people began streaming in and out. Before long, the first floor was fully prepared, and a massive sign bearing the royal crest hung at the entrance: "The First Hospital of the Nat Empire."

Mr. Alexander, the hospital liaison and patron, delivered a special public address announcing that Dr. Charlemagne and his disciples would be permanently stationed at the hospital. Not only that, but Dr. Charlemagne would begin selecting his own students and warmly invited individuals from all regions with their own medical research to apply for positions at the First Hospital.

Tang Feiliu was naturally aware of this news, yet throughout the entire opening ceremony, he remained somewhat distracted—he never imagined his brother, the man who had hunted daily to survive in Valra Town, could undergo such a profound transformation in less than a year.

"What's wrong?" On the way back, Edward couldn't help but ask with concern as he saw Tang Feiliu looking downcast.

"Nothing," Tang Feiliu murmured softly. Then, realizing his words didn't quite capture it, he quickly added, "It's just... before, my brother had no commitments, and we could hang out anytime. But now he's getting busier and busier..."

Edward understood what Tang Feiliu was saying.

It was a childish notion—only children wished their loved ones wouldn't go to work but stay home to play with them. Mid-sentence, Tang Feiliu felt a pang of shame at his own immaturity. He lowered his eyes, unable to meet Edward's gaze.

"Hmm, but your brother is happy. He's a man of principle, so he dislikes being looked down upon." After speaking these earnest words, Edward added softly, "But I'm not busy. You know that. I always have time for you."

To Tang Feiliu, those words sounded more alluring than any romantic confession. She couldn't help but lift her head, wrapping her arms around Edward and nuzzling him affectionately. After a moment, she playfully accused him first, whispering, "It's all your fault I'm so clingy now. I never used to be like this."

It was true. In his modern life, Tang Feiliu had been independent, living comfortably at home streaming cooking shows daily while maintaining good relationships with friends. But since meeting Edward, feeling that powerful yet heartwarming care, Tang Feiliu felt himself regressing, as if he longed to become a baby to be held in Edward's arms at all times.

"Is that so? Let me taste how clingy you are..." Edward responded to Tang Feiliu's accusation with a soft chuckle, gently kissing his cheek, bridge of his nose, earlobe, and neck...

The last vestige of loneliness Tang Feiliu felt about his brother pursuing his career vanished. He struggled, kicking his calf lightly to alert Edward, but soon even his calf was captured and caressed by Edward’s large hand. As the carriage raced toward home, Tang Feiliu could only gasp softly, "...Wait... I have plans... Edward, Edward..."

"Who did you arrange to meet?" Edward managed to ask between gasps, barely restraining himself.

But in the next moment, Tang Feiliu said, "It's Mr. Allen. Do you remember him?"

A vein throbbed on Edward’s forehead. Of course he remembered that gentleman from Nandeng Township—the one who was far too handsome. That gentleman’s affairs were anything but clean. Only someone as foolish as Tang Feiliu could still see him as a sorrowful and pure gentleman.

In truth, a man who survived the seas, returned home safely with vast fortunes, and could pretend to live innocently in the countryside—Mr. Allen might not be a villain, but he certainly wasn't the naive simpleton Tang Feiliu imagined him to be.

But Tang Feiliu didn't see it that way. He'd specifically written to Mr. Allen because renovating the city's sewers was a task he couldn't handle alone. Mr. Allen had all the necessary personnel, and Tang Feiliu was acting purely on official business.

But Lord Edward was hardly one for reason at such moments. Unable to voice his jealousy yet unwilling to swallow his pride, he paused briefly before burying his face in Tang Feiliu’s neck once more. He sucked at the pale skin, leaving clusters of red marks that resembled butterflies.

"Edward?!" Tang Feiliu gasped in confusion. This guy had been perfectly fine just moments ago—why was he suddenly acting like a madman?

But he soon had no time for questions beyond gasps, for His Grace was furious. When a large feline grew jealous, its torment far surpassed that of ordinary men.

Tang Feiliu was left dizzy and disoriented, eventually crying, yet still unable to fathom what had triggered His Grace's frenzy.

Tang Feiliu was furious. He could understand Edward acting out that night after the banquet—after all, he’d felt Edward’s pain at seeing Raven and himself sitting together. That look in his eyes had been like a large animal facing abandonment—a mix of sorrowful pleading and primal aggression... Tang Feiliu couldn't bear seeing Edward like that, so he tolerated his antics to the utmost. That gorgeous ball gown had barely lasted three or four hours before being torn to shreds the moment they got home. The fine fabric probably wouldn't even make decent rags...

And now, what on earth was he up to today? Mr. Allen already had an elf-like little boyfriend!

Tang Feiliu sobbed and hiccupped while furiously tugging at Edward's hair—utterly furious! Edward dared not speak, obediently offering his head to be pulled like a wolfhound scolded by its master after misbehaving.

Thanks to the Duke of Tang Feiliu's wild tantrum, by the time Mr. Allen was granted permission to visit the Duke's residence, it was already noon on the third day.

The banquet was personally ordered by Tang Feiliu. One could say Edward's outburst was entirely justified. Edward didn't want Raven to meet Tang Feiliu because he knew they'd get along exceptionally well. The sight of Raven and Tang Feiliu sitting together felt like a divine apocalyptic painting. Edward feared witnessing his radiance unite with another light source—it would be too scorching, stirring within him a dark impulse to hide Tang Feiliu away, an urge he couldn't control.

But none of that compared to the raw jealousy Alan inspired. Tang Feiliu himself might not have noticed, but among this group of friends, he regarded nobles like Mr. Johnson and the Marquis Raven with identical expressions—smiling and kind. Yet when he looked at Mr. Alan, Tang Feiliu blinked his eyes, filled with admiration, as if stars were dancing within them.

Tang Feiliu desperately wanted to protest his innocence. His fanboy status stemmed from three reasons: first, Mr. Allen was the first kindred spirit he'd ever discovered, a gentleman whose presence felt like a spring breeze. More importantly—Mr. Allen's appearance mirrored the heroes from modern superhero films: strikingly handsome, radiating impeccable integrity and effortless charm. What gay man who'd seen superhero movies hadn't swooned over such an American heartthrob? Who could claim they'd never had such a dream?

In Tang Feiliu's youthful days, this was the very type of dream guy he idolized—yes, Tang Feiliu was that shallow, a total face-obsessed guy. He just loved handsome, muscular, sunny-dispositioned hotties!

But the person he truly grew to love, the one he ultimately recognized in his heart, was Edward.

But that doesn't mean he'd glare at anyone who happened to fit his aesthetic!

Especially since Edward kept it bottled up, leaving Tang Feiliu utterly confused.

Nevertheless, to welcome Mr. Allen, Tang Feiliu happily urged the kitchen to prepare an array of delicacies. Since Mr. Allen's tastes were fairly standard, so Tang Feiliu instructed the kitchen to prepare tender, juicy black pepper beef brisket and salmon. These were paired with minced meat tomato sauce pasta and several other side dishes. Additionally, he specially included the recently launched berry cupcakes and red wine cheese as dessert.

Upon seeing the menu, Edward snorted disdainfully through his nose.

"You're home?" Since arriving at the imperial city, Edward had become more socially engaged, and with the city undergoing immense changes, he'd been perpetually busy. His sudden appearance at home was genuinely puzzling.

"I'm off today." Edward stood impeccably dressed, lifting his chin slightly. Tang Feiliu hadn't seen this aristocratic, haughty demeanor in him for ages and assumed it was a sudden whim. He immediately smiled and bowed slightly in response, "It's my honor to serve you, Your Excellency."

Then, grinning, he took the menu and instructed the servants on the timing of the courses before heading upstairs to change.

Edward's constant trailing left Tang Feiliu thoroughly baffled, yet he was delighted to be spending the day glued to him. One held his head high with duke-like bearing, while the other watched with growing restlessness, teasing him relentlessly... Fortunately, Mr. Allen arrived as a guest just then. Otherwise, the little page and the grand duke's little drama might well have unfolded in broad daylight.

Upon seeing Mr. Allen, Tang Feiliu was startled. He’d heard that Mr. Allen had recently arrived in the imperial city looking rather despondent and haggard. Yet he hadn’t expected the man who entered the door to appear so much thinner, stripped of his usual vibrant gentleness. Though forcing himself to stay alert, Mr. Allen somehow radiated an undeniable, unmasked ferocity.

"Mr. Allen, please sit." Tang Feiliu felt curious but dared not ask. During the meal, Mr. Allen savored the delicacies, smiling and offering praise. The three even discussed the city redevelopment project. Having just arrived in the imperial city, Mr. Allen had previously met Tang Feiliu briefly. This time, having reviewed the materials, he spoke about the plans with much greater clarity. Though visibly worn, his work had clearly not suffered.

"I heard from Lance that you have a beloved partner. Why didn't you bring him along?" After the conversation concluded, dessert was finished, and they sipped their after-dinner drinks, Edward—who had been notably reserved throughout—suddenly asked.

Mr. Allen paused, and before Tang Feiliu could decipher the meaning behind Edward’s abrupt question, Mr. Allen replied with a bitter smile, "Rogers is getting married."

"What?! Rogers Parr?!" Tang Feiliu nearly toppled from his seat in shock. Rogers... wasn't he and Allen mutually devoted? That beautiful, elfin-like boy—how could he choose marriage after finding such deep affection with Allen?

"...He said he lacks the confidence to..." Alan took a large gulp of his drink and murmured softly.

Allen didn't elaborate, but Tang Feiliu understood. He looked at Allen and sighed softly.

Rogers did like Alan. Though technically a few years older than Tang Feiliu, he wasn't like Tang Feiliu—who had grown up in the modern world and experienced much. Tang Feiliu knew what he wanted, and once he was certain, he took that affection very seriously.

Rogers was different. Handsome and born into privilege, he was like a child—naive yet cruel. Knowing Allen liked him, he avoided him. Mistaking Allen’s closeness with Tang Feiliu for something more, he made his move to keep Allen.

Yet after calming down, Rogers likely still harbored feelings for Allen. Still, he couldn't bring himself to accept the reality of being with him—a life without children, without societal acceptance.

Perhaps he feared that path, perhaps he simply craved comfort, or perhaps it was as simple as a child snatching a toy—once obtained, it could be discarded without a second thought.

He chose the smoother, more level path—a decision anyone could understand. But... watching Alan drink bitterly in his sorrow, Tang Feiliu sighed deeply and could only whisper, "If you need rest, I understand."

"No," Alan murmured after emptying his glass. "I want to do more. It's an honor to have this chance to serve His Majesty."

Tang Feiliu didn't know how to comfort him, so he simply said, "I made extra dessert today. Take some home to eat."

Like any friend comforting someone in sorrow, Tang Feiliu wasn't particularly skilled at offering solace. When those he cared about were distressed, his only strength lay in sharing delicious food with his friends.

Alan considered this for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."

Edward watched Alan coldly. When Tang Feiliu turned to instruct the maid to pack it up, Alan caught Edward's gaze. He gave a faint smile and bowed respectfully to His Excellency Edward.

"If you're feeling down or need someone to talk to, I'm here for you, okay?" Tang Feiliu approached with concern, handing Mr. Allen a wrapped package in oiled paper as he spoke.

"Thank you, Lance," Alan murmured softly. He tipped his hat to both men in farewell before stepping outside.

Tang Feiliu sighed softly and murmured to Edward, "How could this happen? Mr. Allen is truly pitiful..."

Edward remained silent.

"Hope eating something sweet cheers him up. Next time we meet, I'll bring him some berry cookies..." Tang Feiliu muttered to himself. Only then did Edward suddenly interject, "He doesn't seem like such a fragile person. But you haven't made me cookies in ages."

Tang Feiliu froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. She stood on tiptoe to ruffle Edward's hair, smiling as she said, "Yes, yes! It's time to bake cookies for our dear Lord Edward! It's all my fault, but... never mind. If you want some, let's bake them together!"

Smiling, Tang Feiliu took Edward's hand and led him to whip cream and melt butter. As they sat together, Edward watched Tang Feiliu's expression grow increasingly tender. After beating, mixing, and setting the ingredients, Tang Feiliu playfully flicked flour at the dazed duke and murmured, "...Mr. Allen will be all right, won't he?"

Such a tender moment was abruptly marred by the mention of Allen, who had been gone for so long. Edward's face instantly soured.

Tang Feiliu began to understand what had been bothering His Grace these past few days, and why the usually busy duke had made time for her today. Unaware, he couldn't suppress the smile curling at the corners of his mouth. After a long moment, Tang Feiliu finally murmured, "Do you know why I love cooking?"

"I don't know." Edward was still sulking.

"Because in that world, I once read a line from a literary giant who spent his entire life contemplating suicide. He wrote: 'I had intended to end my life in winter, but someone gifted me a summer yukata. So I thought... I'll live until then and die then.'" Seeing Edward’s blank expression—the Duke, who had endured suffering, transformed all pain into stepping stones of strength, and before meeting Tang Feiliu could suppress even his own darkness, jealousy, and ugliness with sheer willpower—clearly didn’t grasp such a delicate spirit. Yet the next moment, he heard Tang Feiliu’s gentle voice whisper softly: "... I want to create food like that—the kind that, when you're at your lowest, just one bite makes you feel warm all over and gives you the strength to keep going... food like that."

Edward watched his angel smile softly, then scratched his nose sheepishly. "I know it's a bit ambitious to think that way, but food itself has such a comforting magic, doesn't it?"

He blinked, then delivered his final line to the stunned Edward: "But the only person I truly want to cook delicious food for every day is you, Your Grace."

After all that, Tang Feiliu boldly made his move, his face flushing bright pink.

The next moment, Edward suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace.

It wasn't out of fear or for anyone else—it felt more like a childish whim.

"Then just cook for me," Edward muttered. "They're fine. You don't need to worry at all."

"Huh?" Tang Feiliu replied blankly, but His Lordship Edward had already lost interest in continuing the conversation.

Meanwhile, Mr. Allen, clutching the cake, returned to a charming little house. Stepping down from the carriage, he headed straight for the master bedroom.

The master bedroom was empty of servants—a detail Mr. Allen had arranged beforehand.

He pushed open the door and walked straight up to the second floor.

Rustling sounds came from the room. As Mr. Allen pushed open the door, he saw a slender, fair-skinned young man lying beneath layers of draped curtains in the upstairs bedroom. His beautiful green eyes were filled with tears, his entire body tightly bound and secured to the bed.

A golden chain was fastened around his neck, lending an unsettling charm to the youth who resembled an elf.

Spotting Mr. Allen enter, he fluttered his long lashes as large tears rolled down his cheeks.

He frowned in hurt, looking at Mr. Allen.

"Rogers, have you been a good boy today?" Alan hummed a country tune as he walked in, smiling gently as he asked his lover in bed.

If Tang Feiliu had been here, he might have been scared out of his wits by Mr. Allen's sudden change of expression.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Tangyuan Nuonuo for the landmine

Today's word count explosion left my back aching.