Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Xilun stared at those lines of text, his brows furrowing little by little.

Third tier!

These two words are heavier than anything else.

He wasn't unfamiliar with strong individuals; Midas was one, as were some of the older members of the Tusol family.

But most of those are just aura, intimidation, and gaze. When it comes to the description in the newspapers like "stones shattered, trees collapsed, as if a storm had struck," the feeling is immediately different.

It's not simply about being faster or more ruthless.

That's something on a completely different level.

Xilun put down his coffee, leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, but the scene by the well last night involuntarily surfaced in his mind.

If it weren't for the clock tower pressing down on the well and the cold breath sealing it, and if Samuel hadn't still known a little about the old methods, and if that thing down there had really rushed out last night, with his current abilities, he probably would have had to fight his way out.

In a three-tiered battle, they were able to destroy a small section of terrain.

He remained silent for a few moments before turning his gaze back to the paper.

There is a small section at the end, inconspicuous in location, but its content is very sharp.

Due to the recent tense situation, the Tusor family is now recruiting worshippers and special consultants. Requirements include at least Tier 2, with preference given to those skilled in tracking, purification, sealing, and mystical processing. Compensation will be generous.

After reading it, Xilun lightly tapped the edge of the paper twice with his finger.

Rhodes observed his expression and cautiously asked, "My lord, is Tusor... going to expand his manpower?"

Xiren placed the newspaper on the table and said in a flat voice, "It's time to prepare for war."

Rod's heart skipped a beat.

Xilun picked up another tabloid and flipped through it. It was also about the third-tier battle last night. Some witnesses said they heard muffled sounds like cannonballs at night, and others swore they saw a tree in the woods that would take three people to encircle be snapped in half.

It's hard to tell what's real and what's fake, but there might be something real hidden in the exaggeration.

He glanced at it a few times and then closed the newspaper.

The wind in the north area is getting increasingly strange.

War doesn't just burn on the front lines. Especially in such a complex place, once the sea lanes are cut off, prices rise, and refugees move, coupled with the already tense relationship between the major powers, it can easily ignite.

With Tusol and the Scarlet Study Group causing such a commotion, things probably won't be peaceful at Moon Lake either.

Thinking of this, Xilun suddenly looked up.

"Any updates on the Black Swan Pavilion situation?"

Rhodes was prepared and immediately replied, "No."

"The smuggling truck that you seized is still sealed in the back warehouse as before, the seals haven't been touched, and the contents have been sent to the South District headquarters."

No one came to the Black Swan Pavilion to inquire, no one relayed messages, and no one tried to find a way to probe the situation. It was eerily quiet, as if nothing had ever happened.

Xilun narrowed his eyes.

"Not a single one?"

"Not a single one."

The room was quiet for a moment.

The faint cries of newspaper vendors could be heard outside the window, but the streets were noisier than usual, as if everyone was being driven to a frantic pace by the word "war."

Xilun picked up his coffee and slowly finished it, but he didn't feel much warmth in his heart.

It's too quiet.

It was unusually quiet.

The smuggled goods in that truck weren't just a few bags of flour or a few cases of cheap liquor; for the Black Swan Pavilion group to take such a risk, they must have been of considerable value.

Now the goods are in his hands, but the news seems to have sunk to the bottom of the water, and not a single person has come forward.

There are only two possibilities.

Either the owner of the goods has run into trouble and is unable to take action.

Either the other party is waiting, waiting for an even bigger wave to rise, and then settling old scores all at once.

Xilun put the cup down.

"Sir, should we have the truckload of goods checked again?"

"No rush." ​​Xilun shook his head. "Seal it off for now, don't move it. Send two tight-lipped men to guard it in shifts, and write down anyone who asks questions."

"Yes."

After noting it down, Rod asked, "Should we prepare a gift list and staff for Moon Lake in advance? The invitation says it's in about two weeks, so if you're going, you should start planning your itinerary now."

When Moon Lake was mentioned, Xilun's eyes flickered slightly.

The Moon Lake Festival.

That was the place he originally planned to go.

Firstly, it was said to be a rare semi-public gathering among extraordinary individuals, where people from the North District, South District, and even further afield would bring materials, potions, secret manuals, and old items to try their luck.

Secondly, the consumption of the Profound Yin Breathing Technique is becoming increasingly alarming. Two bottles of Yin Spirit Source Water won't last long at all, and the Profound Nether Spring is only a transition. He needs more rare water-based materials, and it would be best if he could also find some higher-level lightning-type resources.

And, third-tier magic potions.

Although this item is quite valuable, it is essential.

With the situation now in disarray, this grand event is even more like a hotbed of controversy.

If you can go, you should.

But we can't rush it.

Xilun leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table. After a moment of contemplation, he said:

"Prepare first, but don't make a fuss. List the materials as originally planned, focusing on collecting Cold Marrow, Heart-Cleansing Water, silverware that can be sealed by the old sect, and medicine to stabilize the spirit."

If nothing unexpected happens at the event, I will go and take a look.

Rhodes nodded in agreement.

Xilun added, "There's one more thing."

"Please speak."

"Still no news from Lund?"

Rod's expression turned serious: "The South District Manor replied yesterday, saying that Mr. Savy is still giving the same excuse—he is out and hasn't returned, and he doesn't know exactly when he will come back."

The people at the ocean-going port are still investigating, but haven't uncovered anything deeper yet.

Xilun's gaze softened.

Still no news.

If you count the days, it's been too long.

Given Lund's personality, even if he didn't come back, he wouldn't have left without even a reply.

He wasn't the kind of person who would leave his disciples waiting idly, unless he was completely preoccupied with something else, or... he was already tied up outside by something else.

As Xilun thought of this, his heart sank slightly.

The teacher wouldn't say a word about what he was investigating or what he wanted to do.

He used to think Lund was mysterious, troublesome, and dangerous, but now, looking back, he realizes that behind those shrouded-up old stories, there are probably far more than just personal grudges.

He was silent for a moment, then finally said, "Wait a few more days."

"If there's still no movement from Lund, I'll go see Savi myself."

Rhodes paused slightly, but still replied in a low voice, "Yes."

The room fell silent again.

The newspaper lay open on the table, the two black characters on the front page looking as heavy as lead, making it seem suffocating to look at.

Xilun raised his hand and rubbed his temples, causing the wound on his shoulder to twitch, but it didn't stop him from sorting things out in his mind one by one.

The Black Dove Church is temporarily closed and cannot be touched.

The patients in the east alley need to be monitored, and Samuel and Edwin need to be interrogated.

The Black Swan Pavilion is too quiet; be careful.

Two weeks after the Moon Lake event, it may be an opportunity or a trap.

And Lund...

Thinking of Lund, his gaze deepened slightly, but he ultimately said nothing more.

That afternoon, Siron had most of the visitors turned away.

The daily affairs of the fraternity branch still need to be handled, the follow-up liquidation of the township flower field case needs to be signed, the accounts of several warehouses and tax invoices need to be verified, the sealing of the Black Pigeon Church needs to go through internal procedures, and the expenses for medicines and guarding the South Warehouse also need to be approved one by one.

He did not go out again.

She has not made any public appearances since.

The North District was in an uproar because of the war and the Tussor family's statement, but he seemed to have suddenly sunk into the depths of the mansion, with only the study lights still on at night, one after another, until very late.

Everyone assumed that the young governor was recuperating from his injuries and avoiding the limelight.

Only Xilun himself knows the truth.

He was waiting.

Waiting for Moon Lake's letter, waiting for Lund's news, waiting for Tussor's next move, and also waiting for the well at Black Dove Church... Will it send a second message to him across half of the North District?

In the days that followed, the North District suddenly seemed to be held down by something.

The streets were still bustling, the taverns were still noisy, and the coal dust on the docks was getting thicker every day, but beneath that surface of noise, everyone was subtly tense.

Grain prices rose, medicine prices rose, coal prices rose, and several major newspapers took turns writing about the overseas battles, their words filled with clamor and panic.

Occasionally, a conflict between a family or power in the North District could spark gossip that would last until midnight.

Xilun did not get involved.

As he had said before, he stayed indoors and didn't go out.

During the day, I handle official business, audit accounts, conduct interrogations, and occasionally take some time to visit the patients who were dragged out of the Black Pigeon Church in the South Warehouse.

At night, he would shuttle between the study, the back mountain, and the meditation room.

Practice the Mysterious Yin Breathing Method, practice the Great Thunder Sound Breathing Method, sharpen your spear, nourish your spirit, and then use "Prayer for the Holy Sprout" to gradually suppress the pollution in several people with the most severe symptoms.

[Skill: Mysterious Yin Breathing Technique (Beginner)]

[Progress: 429/500]

[Skill: Great Thunder Breathing Technique (Beginner)]

[Progress: 557/1000]

[Skill: Bone Forging Iron Armor Asceticism (Expert)]

[Progress: 899/1000]

[Skill: Natan Heavy Gunnery (Expert)]

[Progress: 851/1000]

Life may seem peaceful, but it's anything but easy.

Among the people in Nancang, two were too old and ultimately couldn't hold on, passing away silently on the third night.

He didn't go crazy before he died, but he kept muttering about the old flowerpots on the windowsill at home and a pot of thick soup that he hadn't had time to drink, as if he had no idea how long he had been on the verge of death.

Feru stood there for a long time, his eyes reddening.

Upon hearing this, Samuel remained silent in his cell for most of the day, saying nothing, only requesting to see the prescription.

Xilun refused to let him see anyone, but had Rhodes make a copy of the prescription for him.

The old man leaned over the table and looked at it for a long time. He circled two herbs and said that one was missing to calm the temper and the other to suppress nightmares.

Xilun had someone buy it.

The conditions of the other patients gradually stabilized. In particular, the little boy who was convulsing in the annex, after being suppressed twice by Xilun with Baiyi, the "song" in his ears had disappeared, but he was easily startled awake at night, and once awake, he would tightly grip the blanket and not let go.

Everything seems to be getting better.

But Xilun himself was finding it increasingly difficult to sleep.

It was only shallow at first.

When I close my eyes, all I see in my mind are rainy nights, broken bells, the Black Well, and Samuel's face, whitened by mud.

Later, things that didn't belong to him began to appear in his dreams—like many damp, thin threads crawling up from the ground and brushing against his ankles; or like someone humming softly from a very far place, the words indistinct, but when he woke up, it was as if half a beat of the lingering sound was still in his ears.

He initially thought it was just due to excessive mental exertion.

On the seventh night, he was jolted awake from his meditation and found himself sitting in his study, but his back was covered in a layer of cold sweat.

The lamp on the table burned steadily, and the wind outside the window was not strong.

But for some inexplicable reason, he felt that the Black Dove Church to the south, which had been sealed off, seemed to be watching him.

The feeling wasn't strong; it was gone in an instant.

Xilun frowned, circulated the Moon Memory Meditation Technique once, and suppressed those distracting thoughts again without disturbing anyone.

Two days later, a short note was delivered to the mansion.

It wasn't an invitation to Moon Lake, but a postponement notice.

When Rhodes handed over the letter, his expression was somewhat strange: "The information from Moon Lake is very vague. They only say that due to the recent struggles and wars among the extraordinary individuals, the grand event originally scheduled for more than half a month later will be postponed for two months. The specific date will be announced later."

Xilun took the letter, glanced at it, and slightly tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Two months..."

Rhodes said in a low voice, "It seems they really have been affected by the war."

"And it's not just about war."

Xiren placed the letter on the table. "The North District has been too chaotic lately, and with Tusol and the Crimson Training Society making such a fuss, who would dare let a bunch of extraordinary individuals gather at Moon Lake at this time?"

Rhodes nodded, agreeing with the point.

Xilun wasn't too disappointed.

Postponement is fine too.

Moon Lake didn't move away; it just moved back.

For him, it actually gave him two extra months to catch his breath, gather resources, and check information.

As he was thinking, he heard footsteps outside the door again.

The person who came this time was not a servant, but Black Star.

As soon as the Tusol family's foreign affairs officer entered, he took off his black gloves. He maintained his usual indifferent demeanor, but his eyes showed a rare sign of fatigue.

"It's quieter here than in the clan's quarters," Black Star remarked casually, glancing around the study.

"Is it lively over there?" Xilun asked.

Black Star sneered: "It's quite a spectacle."

He didn't sit down, but stood by the window and looked outside before turning back: "I won't beat around the bush. The clan chief sent me here, and the meaning is simple—don't go too far from the North District recently, and it's best to be available whenever I call."

Xilun's eyes flickered: "You want to use me?"

"Maybe."

Black Star didn't deny it. "You saw what happened with the Crimson Training Association, right?"

"I've seen it."

"The two missing people, one is from a side branch and the other is a girl from the main branch who married back from outside. They are both quite capable."

The person disappeared near the Scarlet Training Institute's territory; the trail went completely cold, as if swallowed whole by something, leaving hardly any blood behind.

As Black Star spoke, a hint of gloom flashed across his eyes.

"Of course, the tribe doesn't believe their nonsense. But the problem now is, regardless of who did it, the matter has already involved mental remnants and active contamination. Do you understand what I mean?"

Xilun looked up at him.

Black Star also looked at Xilun, paused for a few moments, and then slowly said:

"The most troublesome thing about those crazy people in the Whisper Choir wasn't their knives or guns, but that their dirty stuff could seep into people's brains through their ears, their dreams, and through a well."

But now… the Tusol family has someone who can suppress pollution and get his hands on that stuff.”

He said this in a very flat tone, as if he were stating a business deal.

Xilun heard it very clearly.

His value has indeed changed.

Tusol valued him because he was young, strong, quick to grow, and a rare Tier 2 nominal knight.

But no matter how good these things are, they are still just "useful knives".

Things are different now. He has mastered the art of life, and at least in the eyes of outsiders, he is already a rare figure who can save lives, stabilize situations, or even directly change the course of a pollution incident in certain special circumstances.

This scarcity makes it more valuable than ordinary combat power.

It also makes it more likely for people to have their eyes on it.