Chapter 38【VIP】

Ludovico and Opesa talked from morning to afternoon, and the first negotiation finally came to an end when their stomachs ran out of food.

The two stood at the door of the shop. Opesa bowed her head in thanks, her voice clear and crisp, "It was a pleasure to discuss this. I hope to see the collection soon."

Ludovic smiled reluctantly, trying his best to ignore the gaze from behind him: "Me too."

"Okay, sir, be careful on your way."

Ludovico nodded and turned away.

The snow had stopped for a long time - the snow on the road had been melted by people and was mixed with the mud.

He was a bit of a germaphobe, and he tried to walk on the edges and corners of the snow where a hint of white could still be seen. He carried the painting box a little higher, for fear that the muddy snow water brought up by his steps would stain the suitcase.

His goal was clear, and he walked towards First Avenue without any hesitation.

There were a lot more people on First Avenue than on other avenues. He walked directly into the crowd to stop the rat that was following him from behind.

After confirming that the little mouse that was following him was no longer tracking him, Ludovico continued walking towards his destination.

His destination is the church.

The number of people in the church did not decrease because of the missing persons. Instead, there were more families with daughters or young women who came to pray for nothing to happen.

The light coming through the stained glass dappled the church floor, the bells echoed rhythmically, and the clergy sat quietly in their chairs, listening to the believers' troubles and occasionally turning the pages of the scriptures to offer answers.

Ludovico walked into the church and walked slowly towards the priest who was helping someone with his problems.

The blind priest had keen hearing. He paused when he heard Ludovico's approaching footsteps and nodded slightly towards him. "Hello, child of God."

"Good day, Father." Ludovico returned the greeting, his gaze slightly tilted to the side, catching sight of the believer the priest was addressing. Even though the person was dressed casually and wore a hat to conceal their features, he could still tell who they were. Slightly startled, he quickly saluted, "Your Highness Henry..."

Henry waved his hand gently, lowering his voice, but the hoarseness in his voice could still be heard: "No need to salute, I'm just here to confess today. Under God, we are equal."

"Yes, dear Your Highness." Ludovico also lowered his voice. "Is Your Highness distressed by the recent disappearances in the city?"

Henry sighed and leaned weakly on the chair: “Yes.”

"Your Highness, why don't you talk to Ludovico?" Father Kidd suggested kindly, seeing Henry's dejected state. "Ludovico is one of the church's finest painters. He's the artist behind most of the paintings you see in the church. Perhaps looking at his paintings might help you relax a little?"

Henry smiled bitterly: "Maybe I can't even appreciate the quality of paintings in my current state, and I will just waste a good painting."

"How could that be?" Kidd smiled faintly. "Paintings don't necessarily need to be appreciated. One of the advantages of painting is that it can make people feel calm and comfortable."

Henry remained silent, his eyes lowered, staring blankly at something. Seeing this, Ludovico said, "Excuse me, Your Highness."

He sat down on the chair next to Henry, opened the painting box, and took out several scrolls: "Your Highness, take a look at my recent humble work."

He unfolded the scroll, revealing the scenery he had seen during his recent travels—a lotus pond bathed in moonlight, the grass lush and green, snow-capped mountains blanketed in silver… Henry watched silently, his lips curled up slightly, “How beautiful! Is this all Furlan?”

"Yes," Ludovico replied with a smile, "Furlan is beautiful, and all this belongs to you."

Seeing them talking, the priest went to another place to help the believers solve their problems. Henry shook his head and smiled awkwardly: "No, this is not mine. I have never even seen these views. I am just a puppet imprisoned by the power of the palace."

"How could that be? Your Highness will see this one day."

Henry had heard this sort of talk countless times and was tired of it, yet he had to pretend to be open-minded. After viewing the paintings, his heavy heart didn't ease much, but instead he felt even more depressed.

He is a prince and the future ruler of Furland, but he has no rights to freedom and has to cover up the shameful things that the royal family has done.

He couldn't talk to anyone, and the heavy truth behind the disappearance weighed on him. In desperation, he came to the church to seek answers from the priest, but he was never able to find relief.

Never mind, there's no point in repenting, he thought, and prepared to leave.

He was just about to politely say he was leaving when he saw half a piece of drawing paper sticking out of Ludovico's collapsed painting box.

As a member of the royal family, he naturally wouldn't be so rude as to peek. However, his gaze suddenly froze after scanning the half-length of the drawing paper: "Excuse me...what is that?"

He took a look and took out the drawing paper to look at it. "Oh, this is Cui Liu from the Secret Language Family. That dress is called a cheongsam."

"No." Henry signed. "Whose name is this?"

“It’s the creator’s signature.”

Henry's "...Sindrel?"

"Yes, Sindriel."

Found it.

Henry's heavy mood suddenly dissipated.

The huge rock weighing a thousand pounds suddenly collapsed, and was replaced by an indescribable sense of relief and joy.

He finally found her, the drunk, reckless, and somewhat clumsy girl.

He leaned forward slightly, his hands unconsciously grasping Ludovico's arms. "She's whispering, right?"

Ludovico didn't know why he was suddenly so excited about a name, and nodded in confusion: "Yes, Your Highness."

The moment he got his answer, Henry let go of Ludovico's arm and quickly stood up to leave. His steps were so eager and full of anticipation that he even bumped into the bench next to him, making a loud noise that attracted attention. But he didn't care and ran straight out.

His figure quickly disappeared at the door of the church, leaving Ludovico standing there, looking in the direction he left, deep in thought.

...Could it be that Prince Henry had also been bumped into by that rude fellow? Ludovico thought hard as he packed his painting box.

As he was halfway through packing up his painting boxes, a solemn and authoritative voice came from the side: "Ludovico, how's the investigation going?"

Ludovico knew who it was. He didn't stop to cover up the conversation by cleaning up. "I checked, sir, but I didn't see anything strange so far."

"Then continue investigating." The voice paused. "My spell couldn't have failed for no apparent reason. There must be something else at work. By the way, you can give the things you found to that man named John."

"Yes, my dear sir, I will give him the manuscript." Ludovico closed the box, and the image of Sinderel appeared in his mind. "'He' is the chosen one, right?"

"Yes."

"Why does 'he' want to hide his gender?"

Ludovik felt something strange from the moment he met Sinderel.

He doesn't look like a woman at all.

Sinderel was beautiful, his features enough to seduce the average person, even deliberately hunching over and using clothing to hide his distinguishing features. But he was an artist, a painter who had painted countless people and gods, and he could tell at a glance that his frame was not that of an ordinary girl, but more like that of a young man.

"Because—I killed his sister." The words were cruel, yet there was no ripple. "He thought that this way, he could live on in his sister's place." The voice sighed softly. "Poor, foolish Son of God! He didn't even know that everything, from beginning to end, was arranged by me."

"He should accept the path I've chosen for him. That way, he'll have less to lose." The man seemed a little regretful. "It's just that he's too stubborn... But it's better this way. This way, it will make the pain more severe and prove my point."

Ludovico just listened and reached out to pick up the painting box.

The one he serves and believes in is the "angel" before him.

A god who represents pain and is the opposite of purity.

"Ludovico." The servant cried out his name in pain, "I have recently sensed the fluctuation of her magic power."

"Is it... that angel?"

"Indeed, the energy of this sacrifice was much less. Plus, the spell I cast on Opesa failed. It must be because she broke the restriction and sneaked into this world."

"My goal, is to find that angel?"

The voice replied, "Yes."

Ludovico replied softly, "Got it, sir."

Outside the church, Henry rushed out of the door stepping on the spots of light.

He jumped on his horse, pulled the reins and turned around, staring straight ahead, rushing in the direction of the secret language.

First Avenue was bustling with people, so he deliberately chose a side road. Even though the alley was narrow and his elbows scraped painfully against the wall when he turned, it didn't matter.

He walked forward against the draft, the Secret Words sign was close at hand. He saw a figure swaying on the doorstep: blond, blue-eyed, wearing a gray cloak, carrying a large bag on his shoulder, about to throw away the garbage.

His golden hair shone brightly in the sunlight, like flowing gold, his skin was as white as snow, and his features were as delicate as a sculpture.

"Sinderel." A woman inside the store called out, "Wait a minute, there's still trash."

The heels of my boots tapped against the stone ground, in sync with my heartbeat.

Sinderel.

She's right here.

The sound of breathing wrapped in heartbeat hit his eardrums. Henry could not see anything except the person in front of him, and the sky and the earth became a blurred background.

He bent down slightly and put the garbage in a corner in front of the store.

A bit of paper scraps accidentally touched his fingertips. He wrinkled his nose and looked at his fingers with some disgust.

Henry's heart melted.

so cute!

Henry's legs betrayed him before his brain did - he stumbled and fell off the horse as soon as the horse's hooves touched the ground. Like a reed blown by the wind, he stumbled towards Sinderel, stumbling twice on his cloak along the way, and took two quick steps before he could steady himself.

Sinderel took two steps back in disgust to avoid being bumped into by this guy. Disgust was clearly written in his emerald pupils, and the corners of his mouth were stretched into straight lines, as if he had seen some dangerous person.

Henry finally moved closer and wanted to kneel down on one knee to kiss her hand, but just as he raised his hand halfway in the air, he was glared at by Sinderell and shuddered. His fingertips curled back as if burned, and as he shrank back with his head drooped, his fingertips rubbed against the mud on his trouser legs that he had just rubbed in the alley.

Henry: Wow! QAQ!

"Um, um..." He quickly hid his hands behind his back and swirled his tongue in his mouth three times, "M-Morning?"

Sinderel folded his arms and took two steps back. His eyes slowly moved upwards from his muddy pants, pausing at his slightly messy light-colored hair. "It's already afternoon."

"Um...good afternoon?"

"It's past noon."

"Good day?"

"Uneasy." Xindrell glanced at him. "Being entangled by an unknown person, I can't feel at ease at all."

Sinderel stared at Henry without looking away.

It was so noisy, his heartbeat growing faster and louder, he didn't even have to focus to listen.

Why would a prince come to Fifth Avenue?

His eyes turned cold.

Henry: ...

Henry's mind was blank: he had never imagined that the person hidden under the veil was such a stunning beauty.

He was more beautiful than all the daughters and princesses his father said he had ever seen.

Stared at by Sinderel's emerald eyes, he was even more speechless, and instead he felt so uncomfortable that his ears turned red.

You can't do this!

Henry shook his head violently, and the strands of hair on his head swayed with it. "I, I came here..." He took a deep breath, his neck stiff as a goose, "I want to marry you!"

Sinderel: ...

The air suddenly became quiet.

Cinderella suddenly stopped treating him as a human being.

Sinderel opened the large garbage bag and prepared to put Henry in it: "I think you can be classified as garbage."

The moment the wooden door was opened, the gold color suddenly dimmed a little.

A woman appeared from the store, leaning against the door frame. Her brown hair was like ripe chestnuts, her purple eyes were like clean crystals, and her eyebrows were sharper than a knife blade. However, a smile played at the corners of her lips, covering that sharpness with honey. "What's wrong?"

She was like a rose grown in the Earl's greenhouse, blooming among the thorny bushes, deadly and extremely seductive.

A flamboyant charm that is completely different from that of the blonde girl.

When her clear purple eyes swept over, Henry stopped in his tracks and his body temperature rose rapidly - it turned out that what was hotter than the sun was her glance.

This feeling was even stronger than when I saw Sinderel.

Henry was bewildered.

Why is this happening?