2026-04-29 00:31:38
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93
Before Caelum had even reached the threshold of Silk Robe Alley, the sheer magnitude of the wedding of the Wei Dynasty’s Third Rank Scholar began to weigh upon the very air of the city. Starting from the bustling Kangning Street, the entire northern sector of the Shuzhou provincial capital was transformed into a vibrant theater of celebration. The rhythmic thundering of gongs and drums echoed through the narrow corridors of the city, punctuated by the sharp, staccato explosions of firecrackers that left a hazy, celebratory mist hanging over the cobblestones.Every storefront and residence along the route was draped in festive lanterns and colorful ribbons, each adorned with the crimson character for "Double Happiness." Young men and women of high standing, dressed in flowing red robes and elegant skirts, moved through the crowds with radiant smiles, distributing candies, traditional cakes, and small tokens of good fortune to every passerby."The wedding of the Third Rank Scholar, Alar
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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
91
In truth, Caelum had no desire to exert himself more than necessary, let alone plunge into the murky waters of political and business intrigue. His natural inclination leaned toward a life of quiet observation, a peaceful existence where the world’s troubles remained at a comfortable distance. However, the current precarious state of the Shau family left him with little choice but to begin laying the groundwork for a more stable future. He needed to be prepared, not just for the family's sake, but for his own survival in a city that was becoming increasingly hostile.The establishment of the "Hundred Herb Hall" was the first pillar of his strategy, a hidden reserve intended to safeguard their interests. The second pillar was himself—his own skills and influence, which he needed to cultivate with more urgency than he cared to admit."When did a son-in-law ever have to rely on his own hard work like this?" Caelum thought to himself, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "At t
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As Caelum had predicted with his usual calm foresight, the opening of the Spirit Orchid Pavilion changed the landscape of Silverstream’s medical trade almost overnight. Within just three days, the new establishment had successfully managed to divert more than half of the patients within a three-mile radius of the Eastern Market. It was a strategic masterstroke; not only were their medicinal herbs priced significantly lower than anyone else's, but they also boasted the presence of renowned physicians whose names carried weight among the sickly and the elderly. This combination proved irresistible to the public, drawing in waves of people who had suffered from chronic ailments for years, all hoping for a miracle at a bargain price.During these tumultuous days, Caelum had several opportunities to observe the man behind the counter—the manager of the Spirit Orchid Pavilion. He was a middle-aged man with a pale, beardless face named Silas. Contrary to what his name might suggest, Silas wa
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The province of Silverstream appeared to settle into a state of deceptive tranquility over the following days, a stillness that felt more like a held breath than true peace. To an outside observer, the bustling markets and crowded streets suggested that life was continuing as usual, yet beneath this mask of normalcy, a dark undercurrent of tension was beginning to stir. The news regarding the theft of the Shau family’s massive medicinal shipment had spread like wildfire, carried by the frantic whispers of travelers and merchants who had witnessed the grim aftermath at the mountain inn. Public opinion was sharply divided into distinct camps, fueling a climate of uncertainty and fear. The members of the martial arts community were convinced that the stolen crates held legendary artifacts or ancient spiritual herbs, far beyond the monetary value of common medicine. Some went as far as to claim that a mythical ginseng root, intended to save the ailing Old Marquis of the Shau family, had b
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The aftermath of a summer rain often brought a stifling heat that felt as though the downpour had never occurred at all. From the moment the sun crested the horizon, the rising steam carried a warm, muggy dampness that clung to the skin, creating an atmosphere that was both oppressive and irritating. It was the kind of weather that made one feel restless, yet there was an old saying that a calm mind brings its own coolness. Within the pavilion of the Shau estate, Caelum, Duke Zhang, and Mr. Sun remained composed, their temperaments as steady as ancient mountains. In stark contrast, Butterfly was bustling about, her twin hair buns bobbing back and forth as she tended to their needs. Despite the heat and the visible beads of sweat on her forehead, she moved with a diligent rhythm. By noon, when the sun reached its zenith and its rays were at their most piercing, Duke Zhang and Mr. Sun finally felt the weight of fatigue. They prepared to depart for a brief afternoon respite. Before leav
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