While Caelum was enjoying a peaceful and undisturbed slumber within his private chambers at the Residential Villa, savoring the profound tranquility that precedes a grand storm of social engagements, his older brother, Sylvan, was enduring an entirely different and far more jarring experience. It was not the kind of beginning any man would wish for when facing a day as pivotal as the wedding of the young and celebrated scholar, Alaric.The first rays of dawn had not yet dared to pierce the horizon when Sylvia, Sylvan’s personal maid, burst into his room with a sense of duty that bordered on the militant. She did not bother with soft whispers or gentle nudges. Instead, without a single shred of mercy, she took a heavy towel that had been soaking in a basin of ice-cold water until it was saturated to its very core, and slammed it directly onto Sylvan’s face.Sylvan jolted upright as if struck by a sudden bolt of lightning, his breath hitching in his throat as the shock of the cold seize

Alaric, resplendent in his emerald-green official robes and traditional black gauze hat, completed the triple-bow ceremony with a respectful and humble grace alongside Yoni, who remained veiled beneath a heavy crimson silk shroud. As the final bow concluded, they were immediately surrounded and whisked away by a flock of bridesmaids and elderly attendants toward the bridal chamber. There, the more intimate rituals—the lifting of the veil, the sharing of the ceremonial wine, and the traditional binding of the hair—would take place, far from the prying eyes of the assembled guests.Caelum stood on the outer periphery of the main hall with Butterfly, watching the retreating figures with a complex mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. After all the political maneuvering and the subtle plays for influence, he felt a certain personal investment in this union. "May they truly grow old together in harmony," he thought to himself. However, he quickly added a cynical mental footnote: if they

As the hour approached eight in the evening, the heavy iron-bound wheels of the carriage finally rolled into the main courtyard of the Xiao estate. Caelum stepped down, followed closely by Butterfly, their figures illuminated by the flickering lanterns that lined the walkway. Leo, the driver, remained seated for a moment, his gaze lingering on Caelum with an expression that sat somewhere between professional detachment and calculated curiosity."Master, will you be heading to the pharmacy tomorrow morning?" Leo asked, his voice carrying a subtle, rhythmic undertone. "If so, I shall have the horses prepped and ready before dawn."Caelum didn't turn back, merely offering a casual wave of his hand as he guided Butterfly toward the inner corridor leading to the Lotus Spring Garden. "No need to rush, Leo. I have matters to attend to here first."Leo watched Caelum’s retreating back, a furrow developing in his brow. He found the young man’s behavior increasingly baffling. Only yesterday, Ca

Evangeline stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the swaying lotus leaves in the pond, but her mind was a chaotic storm of ledgers and declining figures. She couldn't quite put her finger on what "it" was—that elusive solution that could save the Xiao family from its current predicament. Or perhaps, she knew exactly what needed to be done but lacked the heart or the means to execute it. Deep down, she knew that the failing business of the family pharmacy was not truly Caelum’s fault. Even if Victor had remained as the head manager, or if they had hired the most cunning merchant in the province, the outcome would likely have been the same. Caelum, for his part, was acutely aware of this reality. Long before he had decided to take his "rest" and retreat into the relative obscurity of the garden, he had analyzed the battlefield of the Silverstream medical trade. In terms of pure medical efficacy and reputation, the newly established Linlan Pavilion was leagues ahead of the Xiao family

The attainment of the absolute pinnacle of the Medical Path had bestowed upon Caelum a vision that transcended the mere physical limitations of the human eye: the legendary technique known as Vitality Perception. Though he stood only at the threshold of mastering this divine insight, the world had fundamentally shifted in his gaze. He could now pierce through the layers of silk, flesh, and bone to witness the flickering embers of a person's life force. He saw the sluggish flow of blood, the hidden blockages in vital meridians, and the silent rot of latent illnesses long before a single cough or fever blister manifested on the skin. By synthesizing this spiritual clarity with the traditional four pillars of diagnosis—observation, olfaction, interrogation, and pulse-taking—Caelum’s ability to decipher the mysteries of the human body had reached a level of terrifying, god-like precision.To any ordinary physician or a casual bystander in the bustling East Market, the gaunt, monkey-faced