Chapter Thirty-OneThe event stretched long into twilight, and by the time the final herb demonstration concluded, the air in the Grand Assembly Hall felt charged—alive with whispers, awe, and restless admiration.The presiding elder struck the gong one last time, signaling the close of the conference. Servants began clearing tables, the scent of dried herbs and burning oil mingling in the air. Physicians clustered in tight groups, still murmuring about the young healer who had turned the night upside down.But before anyone could leave, a tall, silver-haired man in ceremonial robes stood from the high dais—one of the appointed President of the Medical City. His very presence demanded silence, and instantly, all conversation died away.He looked over the sea of faces, his eyes settling on Adrian.“Before we adjourn,” he said, his deep voice carrying with effortless authority, “there is one more matter to address.”Every head turned toward Adrian. The young man stood calmly in the cent

Chapter Thirty-ThreeThe hallway was quiet except for the faint hum of the rain outside, its rhythm echoing through the marble floors of the upper corridor. The night air carried the earthy scent of damp soil and city mist as Adrian pushed the elevator doors open, a small bundle of herbs clutched carefully in his hand. His coat was still wet from the downpour, strands of dark hair plastered slightly to his forehead.He rubbed the back of his neck wearily, ready to collapse after the long, exhausting day at the Medical City. But as he approached his suite, he froze.Someone was standing by the door.Even through the dim lighting, he recognized her immediately.“Isabella?” His voice came out a little rough from the chill. “What are you doing here this late?”She turned sharply, relief washing over her features the instant she saw him. “Finally,” she breathed out, her tone a mix of irritation and concern. “I’ve been waiting for you for almost two hours.”Adrian frowned, glancing at the c

Chapter Thirty-FiveThe room was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the phone still resting on the table beside the herbs. Adrian stared at it for a long time, his reflection ghosting faintly across the screen as the comments continued to pile up. His jaw clenched once before he finally reached for the phone and dialed a number.It rang only once before her voice came through—calm, bright, almost cheerful.“Young Master,” Isabella greeted. “Still awake?”Adrian leaned back in his chair, his tone steady but carrying the faint edge of disbelief. “You sound unusually calm for someone whose name is being dragged through every corner of the internet right now.”A soft laugh answered him. “Ah, so you’ve seen it.”“Of course I’ve seen it,” he said quietly. “It’s everywhere. Do you know what they’re saying? That you were at the hotel with some mystery man, that you’re reckless, that you’ve shamed your company—”“—and that the mystery man might be married,” she added lightly, cu

Chapter Thirty-SevenMorning came quietly, without ceremony.The faint hum of traffic seeped through the glass, mingling with the soft scent of herbs that still lingered in the air. Adrian sat on the edge of the bed for a while, his mind clearer than it had been in months. The fog that had clouded his thoughts had finally lifted — and with it, fragments of his life had returned, threading together like long-lost pages of a story he had once known by heart.He reached for his phone and scrolled through his contacts until his thumb paused on her name.Isabella Reyes.He pressed call.The line clicked. “Young Master?” Her tone was bright, lighter than usual. “You’re calling early today.”“I remember,” Adrian said quietly.There was a beat of silence. Then her voice rose, almost breathless, “You—what?”“I remember everything,” he said again. “The mansion. My mother. The day I left. Everything that happened before I lost my memory.”On the other end, Isabella didn’t speak for a moment. The

The night had settled thick over the city — a quiet, oppressive kind of darkness that swallowed every streetlight and left the air humming with unease. Beyond the bustling districts and glass towers, there stood a structure few knew existed. Hidden within the old quarter, walled by time and secrecy, was a sprawling compound of gray stone and arched corridors — a place known only to those who carried the mark of the Elder Pavilion.From the outside, it looked like an abandoned temple — its doors carved with fading runes, its pillars wrapped in creeping vines. But inside, it was alive with quiet purpose. Torches burned blue instead of gold. Strange instruments lined the walls — glass flasks, scrolls, and relics no modern eye had seen. Every object breathed of power, discipline, and control.In the heart of that place lay the Hall of Balance, a vast circular chamber floored with black marble. In the very center, embedded into the ground, was an eclipse-shaped sigil — half silver, half s