All Chapters of Daily Dossier: Secrets of a Lazy Husband: Chapter 141
- Chapter 150
160 chapters
142
Under the shroud of heavy, leaden clouds, the city of Silverstream settled into an uncharacteristically early night. Long before the designated hour had passed, darkness had already swallowed the horizon. On either side of Canning Street, the storefronts began to glow with the warm, pale light of paper lanterns. Some were simple, blank, and pristine, while others bore the elegant script of "Herbs," "Books," or "Textiles." Regardless of their markings, they served their purpose, casting flickering beams of light to guide the weary traveler through the damp gloom.Caelum walked slowly along the edge of the blue-stone path, his movements deliberate. He held an oil-paper umbrella, tilting it slightly to ensure he did not obstruct the passage of the occasional carriage rumbling toward the city gates. The soft, incessant drizzle drummed against the taut oil-paper, a rhythmic patter that blended into the symphony of the city—the screech of wheels against stone, the distant chatter of merchant
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The morning after the long-awaited cessation of the rain arrived with a brilliance that made the world feel anew. As the sun climbed higher, the eastern sky was painted with a fleeting, kaleidoscopic array of clouds that soon dissolved into a pristine, cloudless azure. It was a day for new beginnings, yet within the walls of the Xiao estate, the atmosphere remained as thick as the morning mist.Butterfly and Leo were already in the thick of their daily duties. Beatrice, the mountain-born girl, moved with a grace that belied the rugged terrain she once called home. Her golden anklets tinkled with every step, a sound that Butterfly gently shushed, casting a protective glance toward the upper floors where Caelum was still lost in a deep, necessary slumber. Caelum had been stretched thin by his recent responsibilities at the academy, and sleep was a luxury he had earned.Beatrice sat at the table, her breakfast a testament to her heritage—spiced and fie
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Following the conclusion of Neil’s report regarding the initial phases of their counter-conspiracy, Caelum received the news with a strange, unnerving stillness. He did not celebrate, nor did he exhibit the relief of a man who had narrowly escaped catastrophe. Instead, he waved a hand with a dismissive, performative nonchalance, as if he were discussing the fluctuations of grain prices rather than the preservation of his own life. "Neil," he murmured, his voice laced with a subtle, mocking fatigue, "do not burden me with such grand titles. We are not architects of destiny; we are mere middlemen in a game far larger than our modest ambitions. The transactions between the Herb Pharmacy and the Xiao estate are matters for you and the Lady of the house. I am merely a glorified errand boy, ensuring that the ledger remains balanced, nothing more."In the dimly lit common area below, Silas, known across the lower levels of the criminal underworld as the 'Blade Maniac,' lay motionless. His bo
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The night air was heavy with an oppressive dampness, and the narrow, winding alleys behind the 'Hotel of the Immortals' seemed to swallow the moonlight. While listening to the conversation drifting from the distance, Caelum knitted his brows slightly, his mind racing with possibilities. Despite the tension coiling in his gut, his feet did not stop following. He moved with a practiced, feline grace, his steps making no sound against the uneven cobblestones. As he walked, he shed his heavy outer robe, tucking it securely into his clothes to reduce his silhouette."There are only a few houses behind the 'Hotel of the Immortals'," Caelum mused internally, his pulse steady. "If there was anyone nearby that night, they would certainly have heard the sounds, or seen those people, and... they would have seen me."If the witnesses were merely gullible citizens, there would be no cause for alarm. The true danger lay elsewhere. The greatest fear was that they might be plants—agents with maliciou
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Caelum’s declaration was not a mere guess. It was a calculated realization born of cold, hard experience. Even now, with the dust settled and the chaotic echoes of the skirmish subsiding, the expected system notification—the reward he had banked on—had failed to materialize. That silence was louder than any shout; it signaled that the game was far from over, and that a far more dangerous player was watching from the periphery.He waited for a lingering moment, his senses stretched to their absolute limit. The night was thick with a damp, suffocating mist that seemed to press against his skin. When no one emerged from the shadows, he rasped out, his voice intentionally roughened to mask his true tone, "I just saved you from that black-clad assassin. Don't you think you owe me a conversation? Surely, the scions of the Valerius family aren't known for such blatant ingratitude, are they?"He scanned the narrow alley, his eyes darting through the darkness. It remained hollow, empty, and de
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"A Master of Medicine?"Caelum smiled to himself; the "Black Tortoise Breath-Holding" technique were rare arts. It wasn't that few physicians knew of them, but that few had the capacity to execute them. They required mastery of acupuncture, identifying acupoints with precision, and a solid foundation in martial arts. Only those with internal energy could repair damaged organs. This was why a warrior like Lance, who suffered from damaged meridians, treated a physician skilled in this art with such profound respect.As he continued his own treatment, Caelum said, "I don't deserve the title of Master. It is merely a minor trick."*A minor trick...*Lance’s jaw dropped, leaving him speechless. This young man was exactly like the legendary medical masters of the "Shadow-Echo Sect"—his arrogance was truly staggering. If "Qi-Needling" were that easy, why would he be hiding in The Hundred Herbs Pharmacy, hoping for a stroke of luck?After a moment of silence, Lance asked hesitantly, "Since y
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Without a second thought, before Butterfly could alert Evangeline or Sylvia in the villa, Caelum circled around to the back of the wooden building and headed straight to his chamber. The air was thick with the scent of pine and the remnants of the night’s chaos. His heart thundered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the perilous reality he now inhabited. His clothes, damp and stained with the grime of the night, were a jarring reminder of the narrow escape he had just achieved. Every shadow in the villa seemed to hold a pair of watching eyes, and the silence of the night was not peaceful; it was heavy with secrets.At that moment, Butterfly hadn't run to Evangeline’s residence; instead, she had gone to find Beatrice, her heart gripped by an icy, paralyzing dread, hoping to wake her to search for Caelum together. When Caelum finally caught sight of her from the shadows, he felt a strange blend of amusement and a profound, melting warmth. This was perhaps the essence of hu
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The dawn of the next day broke over the horizon, a soft, pale light slowly peeling away the heavy shroud of night. Within the serene confines of the "Listen-to-the-Rain Pavilion," located roughly ten miles from the sprawling estate of the Valerius family, a fragile stillness took hold. Gentle, biting breezes drifted through the courtyard, causing the wind chimes dangling beneath the tiled eaves to sway. They sang out in a rhythmic, clinking melody—a sharp contrast to the chaotic, heavy downpour of the previous nights.Julian, the elder brother of Caelum, had been living through a period of profound strangeness. Since the unexpected arrival of the guests from the Fang family, he had been forced to vacate his own private quarters in the rear courtyard, settling instead into the middle yard alongside his personal staff. Though a deep sense of irritation simmered beneath his composed exterior, Julian adhered strictly to the protocols of hospitality. It was not merely a matter of pride; he
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"A real harbinger of misfortune." Caelum thought to himself as he paused, gesturing for Cynthia to proceed ahead of him. "I need to retrieve something. You and Sylvia go ahead, light the stove, and prepare some hot water. We will need it for the treatment." "As you command, Young Master." Once he had delivered his instructions, Caelum retreated to the wooden chamber. He reached into his robes, carefully retrieving a small, weathered box containing his acupuncture needles, and tucked it securely into his inner pocket. Leo, who had been lingering near the doorway, caught sight of him as he emerged. A flicker of genuine concern crossed his face. "Brother, should we send word to the esteemed Julian (The Old Calligraphy Master)? Her condition looks quite severe." Caelum shook his head firmly. "That will not be necessary for the moment. I have the situation under control." With those words, he turned and marched toward the Jiaxing Yuan. For an ordinary person, a minor cold might be
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Caelum remained blissfully unaware of the tempest brewing within Evangeline's heart. After he observed Cynthia and Sylvia meticulously attending to her, ensuring she consumed the bitter, dark herbal decoction that would stabilize her volatile and fading Qi, he allowed himself a moment of genuine relief. He retreated to the quiet, moss-covered sanctuary of his own garden, convinced that the crisis had finally passed. The weight of the day, with its near-death scares, the fragile medical maneuvers, and the suffocating tension of the manor, seemed to dissipate under the gentle, cooling embrace of the evening breeze. His mind wandered to the thought of fishing—a simple, rhythmic, and solitary pleasure that felt worlds away from the suffocating, labyrinthine atmosphere of the Valerius manor. He took a seat at his weathered stone table, closing his eyes to savor the silence, little knowing that the respite he craved was a luxury his current life could no longer afford. Every moment of peac