It was none other than Harry who had blocked his powerful blow!​The middle-aged man stood on the polished marble driveway, staring at the young man who was holding his wrist in place. For the first time since Harry had arrived, Clara's father finally gave him a real, serious look, his sharp eyes narrowing with deep surprise and hidden respect.​"Well, well... you actually have some real skill, kid," Richard Astor man muttered in a low, heavy voice, feeling the steady, immovable strength flowing from Harry's grip. "To block my hand like that, you must have been training hard in martial arts for at least ten years!"​Inwardly, the man was deeply shocked. He knew his own martial prowess was legendary—he comfortably ranked among the top ten martial arts masters in the entire country! Very few people in the world could block his sudden attacks so effortlessly. Even though he had only used about thirty percent of his total strength in that swift slap, thirty percent of his power was still

Hearing his wife's gentle mediation and logical reasoning, Mr. Richard Astor’s stern, furious expression finally began to soften slightly. He let out a long, heavy sigh, running a hand over his face as he looked at his stubborn daughter with a compromised, weary gaze.​"Fine," Mr. Richard Astor spoke in a gruff, heavy tone, setting clear terms. “Anica, you just have to wait another two years. If there is still absolutely no news of the missing Holland heir by then, you can go ahead and marry this boyfriend of yours. But until those two years are up, you cannot rush into anything! Otherwise, if the heir suddenly appears tomorrow, the high-society circles will say our Astor family completely broke its solemn word!"​Hearing her father's sudden concession, Clara’s heartbroken face instantly lit up with pure delight. The heavy cloud over her heart vanished in a single second, and she bounced on her heels, nodding her head enthusiastically.​"Deal! I agree! Two years is totally fine!" Cla

Harry sat completely frozen in his leather chair, his dark eyes wide with profound shock and intense, deep puzzle. As he listened to Clara explain the secret martial clan and the ancient aura technique, a wild, unbelievable thought began to thunder violently through his mind.​Ever since he was a young boy, that mysterious old servant who had lived in his family home had forced him to learn and practice a strange, nameless cultivation technique every single night before bed. Harry had spent countless late nights sitting cross-legged on his bed in the pitch-black darkness, breathing in rhythmic patterns and circulating a warm, strange current of energy through his limbs until he fell asleep. He had always assumed it was just a strange, ancient health exercise to keep his body fit! But now... hearing about the reclusive hidden families, the secret meridian cleansing, and the terrifying aura cultivation, Harry could not help but wonder with a racing heart—was his nameless night technique

​The moment the entire room tilted and Harry's knees buckled under the sudden, crushing of the drug, Clara's breath caught sharply in her throat. But despite the conditions, she wasn't scared at all. Rather, she was somewhat excited, as she had been waiting for this exact window of opportunity the entire afternoon. As his dark eyes fluttered helplessly and his heavy body went completely slack against the soft leather cushions of the private booth, a secretive smile touched her lips. She leaned in close to his slumped frame, her heart beat picking up speed. Her slender fingers were already working eagerly at his shirt collar, loosening the top buttons, while her sweet-scented lips hovered just a single, breathless inch away from his flushed cheek.She leaned in closer, about to close the distance between them. But out of nowhere, Harry's broad hand shot straight up through the heavy air. ​He turned his face away sharply, blocking her kiss with a motion that was way too controlled

“I understand, son. But I need to know something very important. Your father…”Richard’s voice dropped into a quieter note, almost like he was trying to placate the triggered young man in front of him. This was as much of an apology that Harry was going to get for now, as he spoke solemnly. "Tell me about your father."​Harry hesitated for a brief moment, the sudden question striking a tender nerve deep inside his chest. The old pain of grief surfaced where he hadn't expected it at all, thinking that he had already buried that loss from his life in the past.Never expecting a question to pull up up dusty, buried memories from his lonely childhood. He looked down at his hands, his eyes darkening.​"He died a long time ago," Harry replied softly. "He passed away before I was even old enough to understand who he truly was to me. It's not... this isn't some grand, dramatic family mystery like the ones about your family. It's just my ordinary life, as the son whom my mother raised by her