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

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

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

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

"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