A Silly Grin!

Richard stepped in through the foyer, cast a habitual glance across the living room, and hung his clerical robe on the coat rack. Most priests treated their robes like a doctor's white coat, wearing them on duty and taking them off when their shift ended. Underneath, they wore regular clothes, allowing them to blend directly into secular society the moment the robe came off. Karen, on the other hand, wore his clerical robe as his ordinary attire, without a spare change of civilian clothes underneath. His office featured a private lounge where he could leisurely shower and change into casual wear whenever he needed to visit a different venue. Furthermore, Karen's robe was exceptionally luxurious, embedded with numerous minor formations whose functions—such as self-cleaning and thermal regulation—operated smoothly and reliably. Casual clothes were nowhere near as comfortable. Richard's robe was far less costly, having been bought for him by his grandmother. Well, granted... Karen's robe had also been bought by his grandmother. Walking up to the door of his father's study, Richard hesitated for a moment and decided against entering. He suddenly realized something: his father hadn't beaten him in quite a while. A primary reason for this was that he rarely came home lately, spending most of his time busy at the department. He felt embarrassed to say he was busy in front of Karen, but in truth, he was genuinely swamped. After appointing him Office Director, Karen had only provided him with a general operational direction, whereas Mr. Alfred assigned him specific, concrete tasks. The reason he had immediately mentioned Karen's formation mentor, Piro, earlier in the car was that he had recently been tracking an academic seminar on formations that Piro was attending—much like a master formation artist delivering a dedicated lecture series. Richard had even gone out of his way to remotely order a floral basket in Karen's name and have it delivered. "Maybe I should take a shower first?" Richard turned around, deciding to postpone any 'parent-child bonding time' for now. The moment he turned, he let out a startled "Ah!"—sitting in the corner of the living room sofa was his uncle-in-law. Inquisitor Dake, his younger aunt's husband, sat huddled in the corner of the sofa, looking small and utterly helpless. There truly were people in this world whose presence was that faint. No matter the occasion, they naturally occupied the ignored periphery. His talent for staying hidden was more effective than any cloaking barrier. From the moment Richard entered the house to the moment he walked across the room, he hadn't noticed him at all. "Uncle." "Ah, Richard." Dake offered a smile, feigning surprise as though he had only just noticed Richard's return. Richard walked over proactively. Relying on intuition, he could guess that his uncle had come with a problem; otherwise, he would be smoking out in the garden flowerbed instead of sitting in the living room ahead of time. "Uncle, did something happen at work?" Richard asked with concern. "Uh, it's nothing, really nothing..." Dake waved a hand dismissively on instinct, but then immediately recalled that Richard was now the Office Director of the Whip of Order. After a moment's hesitation, he changed his tune. "Well, there is something. Just a minor issue." "Can you tell me about it, Uncle?" Dake pursed his lips and said, "There was an account routed through my inquiry tribunal. But it only passed through on paper. I never even saw the point coupons or the supplies. You know how it is—these things happen often at work, especially before an audit year. It's very common." "Yes, Uncle, and then?" "And then that account ran into trouble. A certain Bishop above fell from power, and many people in his faction were arrested or reassigned. When the higher-ups began auditing and tallying up the liabilities, they somehow traced it to me. That account was dumped onto my tribunal out of nowhere." Inquisitor Dake spoke somewhat vaguely, but Richard understood. This was an internal coupon-laundering scheme: by passing point coupons through smaller branch units, their identity and purpose could be scrubbed and altered. It was an irregular operation, possibly intended for embezzlement, or perhaps meant to facilitate covert missions. For example, the Light remnants unit at their headquarters couldn't possibly receive overt earmarked funds; any point coupons flowing there had to be drawn from other channels unless Karen was willing to shoulder all the expenses himself—which was clearly out of the question. After all, it was a classified department operating under the name of the regional Whip of Order, so the requisition of point coupons and supplies had to follow a process. However, due to the recent political struggle, half of the region's bishops had been ousted, and their backing factions were being purged. The irregular bookkeeping maneuvers that could previously be deferred were suddenly jammed. Once the higher-ups investigated closely, one of those bad debts got pinned directly on his uncle's head. "Richard, please believe me. This really had nothing to do with me." Richard believed his uncle wouldn't embezzle. His grandfather had always looked down on this son-in-law, considering him entirely lacking in ambition. If he had actually possessed the spine to embezzle, his grandfather might have even regarded him with a shred more respect. "I believe you, Uncle. But does my aunt know about this?" "She... doesn't know yet." Dake shook his head with an embarrassed, strained expression. "Is it a large sum?" Richard asked. "It's quite significant." If it were a modest amount, his aunt's allowances and subsidies as a Jurist might have easily settled it out of pocket. Evidently, this amount far exceeded what their household could bear. Now that trouble had struck, Dake had no choice but to come and plead with his father-in-law for help. Things would have been easier on him if he had told his wife and let her ask her own father, but he clearly wanted to shoulder the pressure alone. His wife had already endured grievances and misunderstandings from her family when she chose to marry him. Over the years, his career had never taken off; poor performance metrics aside, he would slip up from time to time. As a man and a husband, the dense layers of cigarette butts buried beneath the soil of the Guman family's flowerbeds bore witness to his private agony. "Roughly how much is it?" Richard asked. Dake gestured a number with his hand and added, "And that's not counting the supplies..." "That much?" "Yeah." "When I get back to headquarters, I'll ask someone to look into it for you. We should be able to find a way to resolve it." "Really?" Pleasant surprise spread across Dake's face. "Yes. Don't mention this to Grandfather for now, Uncle." "Phew... alright, alright." Dake nodded repeatedly. He had been sitting here waiting for Delon to return from work, every second feeling like torture. Picking up the teacup from the coffee table, Dake took several large gulps and smiled. "Our Richard has truly grown up." Richard shrugged. He rather liked hearing that. Just then, Delon walked in. As if a spring had been installed under his seat, Dake bounced straight up. "Father, you're back." Delon looked at him, his brow furrowing slightly out of habit, before giving him a nod. He had just circled through the garden to check the soup pot through the kitchen window, and after confirming everything was fine, looped back around to the front door. "Is something the matter, Dake?" Delon asked. "N-No, nothing at all." Delon looked even more puzzled, though he managed to hold back from asking: *If there's nothing, what are you doing here?* "Oh." Delon walked into the dining room, intent on discovering the surprise his wife had prepared for him. As for this younger son-in-law... he truly had no fondness for him. The old man was a staunch follower of Order's principles, holding himself strictly to an exceedingly high standard of personal conduct. While he had indeed been somewhat pedantic and dogmatic in the past, his integrity was unimpeachable. For an upright father-in-law like him to find a son-in-law unbearable spoke volumes about just how mediocre that son-in-law was. It wasn't that the old man had never thought about pulling him up, but with average talent and average competence, there was simply no leverage point to grab onto. One even had to worry that forcing him into a higher position would result in his incompetence bringing the whole thing crashing down. Yet there was no helping it; his daughter loved him and had insisted on marrying him. Only after Delon left the living room did Dake sit back down, adopting an elder's tone once more. "Richard, have you been busy at work lately?" "Very busy. Piles of work, never ends." "Yes, our line of work is demanding, but as a young man, you should apply yourself. Seize the opportunities while you're young." "You're right, Uncle." "Mm, hehe." Dake wore a satisfied smile. He was very fond of Richard. When Richard was a boy, every time Dake visited his in-laws, Richard would proactively pour tea, fetch a chair, and chat about school, saving him from countless awkward moments. "Oh, right!" Richard slapped his own forehead. "Why wait until I get back to HQ to find someone? Karen's here too! I can just tell Karen!" "Karen is here as well?" "What's going on?" Karen happened to walk in from the foyer. The spring beneath Dake's rear activated once more, and he reflexively shot to his feet. "Lord Minister." Karen offered Dake a gentle smile. "There's no need to be so formal, Mr. Dake. It makes us feel like strangers." Dake was Richard's uncle-in-law, which made him Karen's younger uncle-in-law by marriage as well. Moreover, in Karen's eyes, Dake was actually rather endearing. Several times when Karen visited the Guman residence, he had caught Dake hiding alone in the flowerbeds smoking just to kill time before meals to avoid conversation. He was devoted to his family, doing everything in his power to uphold his responsibilities as a husband and a father despite his ordinary abilities. Perhaps... that was simply what an ordinary man looked like. "Yes, of course, Lord Minister." Dake waited until Karen sat down on the opposite sofa before cautiously taking a seat himself. Inwardly, he was filled with emotional sighs. The first time he had met this young man here, he could still offer him guidance in his capacity as an Inquisitor. Later, when they met, he found himself proactively offering him cigarettes. Then, he had to speak to him in honorifics. And now, he had to address him as 'Lord.' "What were you discussing?" Karen asked proactively. "It's like this, Karen..." Before his uncle could speak, Richard jumped in and laid out the entire situation. Dake sat opposite them, wearing an uneasy, constrained smile the entire time. Karen nodded. "Then the nature of this matter is different. The handlers probably dumped several bad accounts onto Inquisitor Dake precisely because they knew of your connection to the Guman family, hoping you would help get them wiped clean." "Is that so?" Dake's eyes went wide. Having connections didn't guarantee an easy ride in an organization. Far from everyone catering to you, having people deliberately dig pits for you to fall into or pushing you forward as a scapegoat was the true norm. Coupled with the Guman family's consistently spotless reputation and Old Master Delon's fierce protective care over his integrity, such a bishop family didn't inspire the dread that the Norton family once commanded among subordinates. "Let's do this: when you head back, Richard, have Vic look into the records and sort it out. Whoever is responsible will bear the blame, and that will settle the matter." "Understood, got it," Richard replied with a grin. Dake let out a long breath of relief. He knew that with Karen's word, the crisis was averted. He might still face criticism or even a demotion, but there would be no disaster. He hadn't embezzled, after all. *Creak...* The living room study door swung open, and Mr. Aisen appeared at the doorway. Richard shot to his feet with a start; The spring hadn't vanished—it had merely transferred. Aisen's gaze fell first upon Dake. Dake smiled at him, and Aisen gave a stiff nod in return. Then his eyes shifted to Richard, his fist suddenly clenching. Little Jerry within Richard's body registered its host's reaction and immediately entered combat—no, entered beating-preparation mode. In the end, however, Aisen shifted his gaze toward Karen. "Karen, you're here." "Yes, Mr. Aisen." Karen rose and walked toward the study. Aisen stepped aside, allowing Karen in, before closing the door. "You aren't injured, are you?" Aisen asked with genuine concern. "I'm fine. It was nothing major." "Father went as well last night." "Yes. Grandmother dragged him along, haha." "I was quite surprised, truly. In my mind, Father would never do something so out of line, especially right after becoming a Bishop." "Mm." "So, Father really has changed, and by quite a lot." "Uncle, are you laying groundwork for something?" "Ah..." Aisen parted his lips, pausing before asking, "Is it that obvious?" "Not obvious, just not hidden well enough." "Today is Father's birthday," Aisen said. "I only just found out myself. But Richard and Dake don't seem to know." In most households, it was fairly common for the younger generation to forget an elder's birthday—those who were doted upon always took things for granted. But the Guman family maintained a strong traditional atmosphere and, by secular standards, would be considered conservative. As the patriarch, Delon's birthday ought to have been a major annual family event. "Because Father hasn't celebrated his birthday in many years. His birthday happens to be the anniversary of my elder sister's death." "Oh, so that's why." "Though that wasn't the exact date she died—it was merely the date the church determined as her accidental death during that mission—Father doesn't know that. So he never celebrates his birthday." "I understand now." No wonder Grandmother had chosen this specific day to move so... briskly. It was just like in kindergarten, where a little boy named 'Grandpa' had done a good deed, and Grandma immediately took him by the hand to collect his reward. Multiple factors were at play. "Father never shows his longing for my sister in front of others. Barring any surprises, over these few nights, he will work and live like a normal person by day, but by night, he will sleep alone in the basement, staring at my sister's portrait the entire night through. He has spent all these years doing that. "He has always carried immense guilt over her death, believing that his own high expectations drove her into that department, which ultimately led to the accident. "My sister was once the greatest pride of his entire life." "Much more sincere," Karen smiled. "Eh?" Aisen froze for a second before catching on, chuckling along. "That wasn't groundwork." "I know. So you don't need to lay groundwork, Uncle. It doesn't suit you. You're better off being direct." "Is that so..." "Grandmother told me she plans to tell Lord Delon about me." "Really? When?" "Today, most likely." ... "Looks like my soup is done," Madame Tangli remarked as she stepped into the kitchen, savoring the aroma. "Yes, I'm already itching to sneak a bowl," Delon replied with a chuckle. "Still, it will be a little while before lunch. I need to stir-fry a few more dishes. Since Karen is here, I'd like him to critique them for me." "Of course, my dear. Whatever makes you happy. I'll head down to my workshop for a bit." "Alright, go ahead." Delon exited the kitchen and walked straight down to the basement. His workshop was down there, laid out much like his office. However, he didn't immediately resume the research he had been conducting in his office. Instead, after taking a seat, he pulled an oil-painting frame from a drawer. Inside was not a photograph, but a delicately rendered oil portrait. The painting depicted a family of five. He and his wife stood side by side, his right hand holding a very young Aisen, while his wife cradled their infant younger daughter in her arms. Standing between him and his wife was their eldest daughter, smiling brilliantly—already a lovely young girl. Through the glass, his fingers traced his eldest daughter's face again and again. His eyes gradually grew moist. In his mind echoed the day he received the news of her demise, and the sharp, tearful reproach his wife had hurled at him: *"Delon, you promised you would protect our daughter!"* "I'm sorry..." Delon murmured softly to himself. Then, he snapped his head up. That voice hadn't merely surfaced in his memory—it had sounded in reality. He looked up to see his wife walking in carrying a fruit platter, on which lay a freshly washed bunch of grapes. "Do you still remember the promise you made me when our daughter was born?" Madame Tangli asked. "I remember, my dear. I swore to protect your safety and our daughter's with my life." "You broke your word." "Yes, I broke it. If I were given another chance, I would never..." "She is gone." Delon closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes. What is the point of saying all this now..." "If nothing had happened to our daughter, she would have married long ago, even before Aisen. Her child would probably be a little older than Richard." "Yes, that's true." "We might have had a grandson or a granddaughter. They would certainly be exceptional, because our daughter was exceptional." "Of course! Undoubtedly! She carried our bloodline. While still sitting in her cradle, she awakened the Key to the Rubik's Cube and treated it like a toy. "Any man who caught her eye would surely be extraordinary as well, and their child would have inherited their fine bloodline—a true genius!" Madame Tangli suddenly spoke up: "Someone like Karen?" Old Master Delon blinked, stunned. A look of contemplation and internal struggle crossed his face before he ultimately shook his head: "My dear, I believe that is impossible. Karen's brilliance exceeds our comprehension and imagination. I wouldn't dare dream of something so absurd even in my sleep. "Do you know, he is genuinely proficient in formations—a true, profound mastery! What kind of genius is he, and how on earth did he accomplish that? "In my eyes, only those exalted Holy Children in the sacred church could possibly possess such terrifying talent!" "What if—I'm merely saying what if—our grandson were someone like Karen?" Delon considered the question seriously, then spread his hands and replied: "Then I'd probably lie in bed at night, tossing and turning, and grin like an idiot—just like you've been doing in bed for the past six months, my dear..." Delon froze mid-sentence. He recalled those very actions. Over the past six months, his wife had frequently done that in bed—tossing and turning for no apparent reason, burying her mouth under the quilt, and giggling aloud. *Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!* Delon heard the violent pounding of his own heart. His mouth went completely dry. A possibility suddenly struck him—one that was crystal-clear, striking, and fully explained all the special treatment his wife had shown Karen ever since they first met. Certain truths originally remained shrouded in mist, but once a single thread was grasped and traced backward from the conclusion, everything snapped into blinding clarity. Moreover, his wife's words just now were practically an explicit revelation. The spring transferred once again. With a loud crash, the old man shot to his feet, knocking his chair flat to the ground without a backward glance. His eyes went wide as he stared intently at his wife, his fists clenched tight: "My dear... is it true?" Madame Tangli picked up a grape and popped it into her husband's mouth. Her fingertip lightly brushed against his lips, pale with sheer excitement, as she cautioned him: "Keep your silly grinning quiet tonight. Don't disturb my sleep."