My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

The seventh day of the ninth lunar month is Frost's Descent.

In the western part of Wen'an County, at the training ground of Weiyuan Escort Agency, the thin frost of early morning had not yet melted away.

As usual, Chief Escort Lin Zhenyuan got up before dawn and practiced a set of his family's "Zhenshan Fist" in the courtyard.

The force of the punches was so strong that it shook the remaining leaves off the old locust tree.

He is forty-eight years old this year, but his martial arts skills have not diminished with age; instead, they have gained a sense of maturity and depth.

But today, this set of boxing techniques, which I've practiced for thirty years, went awry by the third move.

Lin Zhenyuan stopped and stood still, his brows furrowed, his gaze involuntarily drifting towards the east wing—the residence of his only son, Lin Yunfeng.

The windows were tightly shut, and the doors were closed, quite unlike any other day.

Since he was sixteen, Lin Yunfeng has gotten up at dawn every day and practiced swordsmanship at the training ground without fail.

He wielded the 72-pound "Wind-Splashing Blade" with effortless skill, its blade flashing like snowflakes, often drawing cheers from the early-rising guards and their men.

But now, it is already early morning, and there is still no movement from the east wing.

This is the eighth day.

The uneasy cloud in Lin Zhenyuan's heart grew thicker and thicker.

He beckoned to his butler, Lin Fu: "What time did the young master return last night?"

Lin Fu hunched over, his voice very low.

"Reporting to Master, it was three-quarters past midnight... and he still sneaked in through the back door. This old servant followed your instructions not to disturb him, but I noticed that the young master's steps were unsteady, and his complexion..."

"How do you look?"

"So white...like paper used to cover windows." Lin Fu carefully considered his words.

"This old servant dares to take a closer look. Young master's eyes are dark and his lips are bloodless. His legs are trembling when he walks."

Lin Zhenyuan remained silent for a while, then waved his hand to dismiss Lin Fu.

A morning breeze swept through the courtyard, carrying the chill of late autumn.

He tightened his short jacket, but felt the chill coming from his heart.

Lin Yunfeng is nineteen years old this year; he is his only son, born when he was thirty.

His wife died during childbirth, leaving behind this infant in swaddling clothes.

He acted as both father and mother, raising his son with great care and teaching him martial arts and how to be a good person.

Watching him grow from a toddler learning to walk into the spirited young man he is today.

This child is also very promising.

He practiced martial arts diligently from a young age and by the age of fifteen, he could withstand fifty of his moves without being defeated.

He started traveling short distances with a caravan at the age of eighteen. He was calm and composed, and sincere in his dealings with others. Everyone in the caravan praised him.

But everything changed after that caravan that returned from Jingyang Prefecture half a month ago.

At first, he was just a little listless, and Lin Zhenyuan assumed it was because he was tired from the long journey, so he stewed ginseng soup for him to replenish his energy.

But a few days later, Lin Yunfeng started staying out all night.

The first time was on the first day of the ninth lunar month.

That day, Lin Zhenyuan waited in the main room until Hai Shi (9-11 PM), but his son still hadn't returned. Just as he was about to send someone to look for him, Lin Yunfeng returned on his own.

When asked where he went, he only said, "I was drinking with some friends at Zuixianlou."

Lin Zhenyuan could smell alcohol on him. Although he had some reservations, he thought that it was normal for young people to socialize and socialize, so he didn't investigate further.

Who knew that from that day on, Lin Yunfeng did this almost every night.

At first, he returned at Hai hour, then at Zi hour, and in the last few days it has been delayed until Chou hour and Yin hour.

When he returned, he no longer reeked of alcohol, but instead carried a faint... fragrance?

It wasn't the scent of cosmetics or flowers, but rather a strange fragrance that was sweet yet chilling.

Lin Zhenyuan had traveled all over the country for thirty years and had never smelled this kind of aroma before.

What alarmed him even more was the change in his son.

In just seven or eight days, Lin Yunfeng visibly lost weight.

Her once full cheeks were now sunken, her eye sockets were deep-set, and her lips were pale and chapped.

The most deadly thing is his eyes—they used to be bright and spirited, but now they are always veiled in mist, his gaze is unfocused when he looks at people, and he often gives irrelevant answers.

The experienced镖局 (security escort agency) staff were gossiping amongst themselves.

Some say the young master contracted venereal disease, others say he was led astray by his bad friends and started using opium, and still others say he might have been possessed by an evil spirit.

Lin Zhenyuan didn't believe in superstition.

In his life, he believed in fists, loyalty, and the knife in his hand, but he didn't believe in gods and ghosts.

But the reality before him made him begin to waver.

At 1:45 AM, the door to the east wing finally opened.

Lin Yunfeng walked out wearing an outer robe, his steps unsteady, and he even tripped on the threshold.

The morning light shone on his face, revealing that his once handsome face was now frighteningly haggard, with dark circles under his eyes as if he had been punched twice.

"Father," he said in a hoarse voice, forcing a smile, "you're up so early."

Lin Zhenyuan stared at him for a long time, then suddenly said, "Feng'er, come here."

Lin Yunfeng approached hesitantly.

Lin Zhenyuan grabbed his wrist—it was ice-cold to the touch, and the pulse was so weak that it was almost undetectable.

He then lifted his son's eyelids and saw that the whites of his eyes were covered with fine blood vessels, and his pupils were dilated and lifeless.

"Tell your father," Lin Zhenyuan's voice was deep, "where have you been these past few nights?"

Lin Yunfeng's eyes darted around: "It was...it was just drinking and having fun with friends..."

"Which friend? What's their name? Where do they live?"

"These are all just casual acquaintances; even if I told my father, he wouldn't recognize them..."

"A friend you just met by chance, you're willing to spend every night with him, neglecting your family?" Lin Zhenyuan said angrily.

"Look at yourself! Do you still look like a martial artist? You'd fall over in a gust of wind!"

Lin Yunfeng lowered his head and remained silent.

Seeing him like this, Lin Zhenyuan felt both heartache and anger.

He took a deep breath and said to Lin Fu behind him, "Go and invite Mr. Chen over. Tell him that my old injury has relapsed and ask him to come and treat me."

This is a cover-up.

Chen Jishi, also known as Chen Langzhong, was the most famous senior doctor in Wen'an County, specializing in treating difficult and complicated diseases.

Lin Zhenyuan didn't want to make a scene, so he could only use this excuse.

Half an hour later, Doctor Chen arrived.

The old gentleman with white hair and beard frowned as soon as he entered the east wing.

He didn't rush to take her pulse, but instead walked around the room first, his nose twitching slightly.

Finally, he stopped by the window and stared at the grayish-white incense ash in the incense burner for a long time.

"Chief镖头 Lin," Doctor Chen turned around, his expression grave, "your son's illness is probably not simple."

Lin Zhenyuan's heart skipped a beat: "Please speak plainly, sir."

Doctor Chen gestured for Lin Yunfeng to sit down, and placed three withered fingers on his wrist to check his pulse.

This process took a full incense stick's time.

The room was eerily quiet, with only the rustling of autumn leaves being swept away by the wind outside the window.

Finally, Physician Chen withdrew his hand and let out a long sigh.

"How is it?" Lin Zhenyuan asked eagerly.

"His vital energy is severely depleted," Doctor Chen uttered. "And extremely so."

He paused, and seeing Lin Zhenyuan's blank expression, he explained.

"The human body has three treasures: essence, energy, and spirit. Essence is the foundation, energy is the circulation, and spirit is the commander."

An ordinary person's vital energy is abundant, like a river overflowing, endlessly regenerating. But your son is now…”

Doctor Chen shook his head: "His vital essence is almost exhausted, his qi and blood are both deficient, and his spirit is scattered."

To put it bluntly, it's like a large tree hollowed out by termites; the exterior might hold up for a few more days, but the inside is already rotten.

Lin Zhenyuan's face turned deathly pale: "How could this happen?! He was perfectly fine just half a month ago!"