Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

A sliver of morning light pierced through the gap in the curtains, cutting across the floor like a sharp blade.

Xilun had already woken up before the light touched his pillow.

He opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling for three seconds, and assessed his condition:

The pain in his temples had subsided, his breathing was smooth, and although his mental strength had not fully recovered to its peak, it had returned to more than 70%.

enough.

There will be a second net pressure test this afternoon.

Xilun got up and washed his face in the copper basin.

The cold water splashed on my skin, washing away the last trace of fatigue.

He put on his shirt and fastened his vest, then checked his face in the small round mirror.

The face in the mirror was thin and young, and the skin was a bit whiter than it had been six months ago—probably due to spending a long time indoors practicing meditation and reducing sun exposure.

But those eyes were as calm as two polished black pebbles.

Just as I finished fastening the last cufflink, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Mr. Siren, breakfast is ready." It was Lucas's voice.

"Come in."

The door opened, and the old butler walked in carrying a silver tray.

On the plate was a pot of black tea, two slices of buttered bread, a plate of fried eggs and a few slices of smoked meat, and a small bowl of thinly sliced ​​fruit.

The portions are small, but the combination is exquisite.

"The chieftain said that you would like to go to the east wing study after breakfast." Lucas put down the tray. "No rush, any time is fine."

"Um."

Xilun sat down at the table and began to eat at a leisurely pace.

He ate while organizing his plans for the day in his mind.

After breakfast, I went to see Austin—as expected.

Last night's first cleansing session was quite effective, and the clan leader will undoubtedly want to confirm the follow-up plan, and at the same time... there's a high chance he'll also want to discuss terms.

Elder Campbell's life was valuable, and so was the magic of Siron.

This deal can't be done for nothing.

The Yin Spirit Source Water has been exhausted, and the Cold Marrow Essence is also nearly depleted. If the Tusor family intends to use him as a tool for purifying pollution in the long term, then the necessary resources must be provided in full.

and……

Xilun took a bite of bread, his gaze falling on the gap in the curtains.

This is what Ao Yin looked like at the entrance of the meditation room last night.

That person won't admit defeat. A written apology or a reduction in bonuses won't hurt him at his core.

He controlled the channels for minerals and arms, which, in times of war, was tantamount to holding the family's lifeline in check.

Austin can't touch him.

Xilun can't touch him for the time being.

But this does not mean we can let our guard down.

After breakfast, Celen put on his trench coat and followed Lucas through the main house to the east wing study.

The study door was ajar. Lucas knocked three times, and a voice inside said, "Come in."

Xilun pushed open the door and entered.

Austin sat behind a large oak desk, several documents spread out in front of him.

The old man was wearing a dark brown tweed coat today, and his silver beard was neatly trimmed, making him look quite energetic—but the dark circles under his eyes betrayed that he hadn't slept well last night either.

"sit."

Xiren sat down in the leather chair opposite the desk.

Austin skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the point: "Hurst came to see me this morning and said his brother's complexion had improved a lot and his hand had stopped twitching."

"Thirteen outer threads have broken," Xilun nodded. "The core inside hasn't been touched yet; this was the second time this afternoon."

Are you confident?

"have."

Austin's gaze lingered on his face for two beats.

"Alright." The old man closed the file in his hand, leaned back in his chair, and his tone became more casual. "Young man, what are the conditions?"

straightforward.

Xilun didn't intend to beat around the bush.

"The Yin Spirit Water," he said. "I need a continuous supply, not just one or two bottles for emergencies, but a stable supply of at least one case per month."

Austin narrowed his eyes slightly: "A whole case...you can use it all?"

"We can use it all."

"At your level of mastering the Profound Yin Breathing Technique, a box of source water wouldn't last more than a few months, would it?"

Silen did not dodge the question: "That's why I said 'at least'."

Austin smiled silently.

That smile contained admiration, calculation, and a hint of a businessman's shrewdness.

"One box is fine," he said, "but you should know that the production of Yin Spirit Water is also decreasing due to the war. One box is the limit I can reliably provide."

"In addition," Xilun continued, "six bottles of Cold Marrow Essence for the next stage of Bone Forging Iron Armor, two boxes of Mind Cleansing Incense, and three boxes of Tranquility Potion—these are necessities for maintaining the patients in Nancang and for myself."

"It's reasonable for me to pay for the patient's medication," Austin nodded.

"at last."

Xilun's tone remained unchanged, as natural as if he were stating the weather.

"If there are similar incidents like Elder Campbell's in the future, the compensation will be calculated separately and cannot be covered by the fixed monthly payment."

Austin was silent for a moment.

"You mean...to discuss each issue individually?"

"right."

"Ha." Austin lightly tapped the table. "You learn very quickly."

"I'm not learning," Siren said calmly. "I just don't want people to think I'm easy to boss around."

There was a two-second silence in the study.

Then Austin burst out laughing.

The laughter was genuine and heartfelt, carrying the joy unique to an old hunter seeing a promising junior.

"Okay." He stopped laughing, took a blank contract from the drawer, and said, "I agree to the terms. Lucas will draft the document; you just need to sign it."

When will the first batch of Yin Spirit Water arrive?

"The day after tomorrow," Austin said. "I'll have them brought directly from the cellars in the west of the city."

Xilun nodded slightly.

Once the business was over, the atmosphere relaxed.

Austin picked up his teacup, took a sip, and looked over the rim of the cup at the young man opposite him.

"Silon," he suddenly said.

"Um?"

"How old are you this year?"

"twenty."

"Twenty..." Austin repeated the number, as if savoring something.

He put down his teacup and slowly shook his head.

You remind me of someone.

Xilun did not respond.

Austin didn't reveal the name either.

He simply waved his hand and said, "Go on, get some rest this afternoon and heal Kamber."

Silen stood up, nodded slightly to Austin, and turned to leave the study.

Xilun walked out of the east wing study, his steps unhurried.

The corridor was long and covered with dark carpets, with portraits of successive heads of the Tussol family hanging on the walls.

The figures in the paintings are in various poses; some hold swords, some hold staffs, and some hold nothing at all, simply gazing calmly ahead.

Without exception, their gazes carried the coldness and scrutiny of those in positions of power.

Siron had little interest in these portraits.

He focused his attention on both sides of the corridor.

Several members of the Tusol family stood by the colonnade; some carried tea trays, some held stacks of documents, and others were simply passing by.

But their eyes were all looking this way.

It wasn't peeping—it was open staring.

Xilun could sense the complex elements in those gazes: curiosity, fear, distrust, and a subtle hint of expectation.

He neither quickened his pace nor slowed it down.

It was clear that news of his refusal to treat Elder Campbell three days ago had spread throughout the mansion.

For an outsider to dare to stand by and watch a third-tier expert of the Tusor family die without offering assistance—that's either suicidal or having the means to be suicidal.

Siren stopped in the middle of the corridor.

It wasn't because of those stares, but because a young girl was standing blankly two steps ahead, blocking my way.

The girl was about fourteen or fifteen years old, wearing a light gray dress typical of a family maid, and holding neatly stacked piles of white linen.

Her hair was light brown, tied into a braid and draped over her shoulder, and her cheeks still had a hint of baby fat.

Her eyes were bright, like two brown glass beads, and she was staring intently at Xilen.

Xilun tilted his head slightly.

"Excuse me."

The girl didn't move.

She blinked—a gesture that seemed like some kind of confirmation signal, confirming that the person in front of her was indeed the one she had heard about.

Then she suddenly spoke, her voice as clear as a silver spoon tapping on the rim of a teacup: "You're the one who healed the Elder, Xilun?"

The air in the corridor seemed to linger slightly.

The middle-aged man carrying documents who was passing by paused for a moment, but did not stop; he simply glanced at the document out of the corner of his eye.

Xilun looked at the girl.

There was no fear in her expression—or rather, she was too young to have learned to fear what she should look like.

"Yes." Xilun nodded calmly.

The girl leaned forward slightly, as if confirming important news.

Then she asked another question, her tone innocent and direct: "Then why did you take so long to come?"

The corridor was completely quiet.

The maid carrying the tea tray froze, and a family guard standing at the corner unconsciously turned his head away.

Everyone is waiting for this answer.

Xilun looked down into the girl's eyes.

There was pure bewilderment in those brown eyes—not questioning, not accusing, just simple curiosity.

Why is Elder Kamber suffering while you, who clearly had a solution, were three days late?

Xilen narrowed his eyes; he could choose not to answer.

You can walk around this girl and no one will say anything.

But he didn't.

"Because this family doesn't welcome me."

His voice was soft and his tone was calm, as if he were stating an axiom.

"I can only wait outside."

The girl's mouth was slightly open.

She wanted to say something, but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat.

The corridor was completely silent; no one spoke.

The maid carrying the tea tray lowered her head, and the middle-aged man holding the documents quickened his pace and disappeared around the corner.

Xiren didn't look at anyone else.

He walked past the girl, the hem of his trench coat lightly brushing the carpet in the corridor, his footsteps even and steady.

Behind him, the girl stood there holding the stack of white linen, not moving for a long time.

She suddenly remembered what she had seen Mr. Celen through the window the day he arrived.

He stood alone in the rain outside the east wing, with no one to hold an umbrella for him.

……

On the other side, in a side room on the east side of the Tussol family's house.

O'In sat in a high-backed leather chair, the curtains only slightly ajar, the narrow beam of light slanting across half of his face.

He rested his right hand on the armrest, his fingers rhythmically tapping the leather surface.

One, two, three.

pause.

Then it was one, two, three times.

His gaze was calm, like a stagnant pool. But at the bottom of that stagnant pool lay dark, muddy water, and only he knew what lay hidden within.

Oin was thinking about something.

Yesterday, he stood at the door of the meditation room for an entire day.

It wasn't because I cared about Campbell.

It didn't matter to him whether Campbell lived or died. What mattered was that if Campbell died, he needed to know whose responsibility it was, and where that responsibility could be directed.

But Celen saved his life.

After the first cleansing, Campbell's complexion improved significantly, and Hearst even bowed to Siron in gratitude.

This means that Xilun's value within the family has risen to another level.

Written apologies and deductions from bonuses—these are all superficial things; Aoin never cared about appearances.

What he cares about is substance. What is substance?

In reality, Austin summoned Celen alone again this morning.

In reality, when Xilun walked out of the study, that old dog Lucas had a smile on his face.

In reality, it is Yin Spirit Source Water—Aoyin learned through his own channels that a portion of the reserves in the western city's cellar had been allocated by order of the clan chief.

For whom?

The answer speaks for itself.

Oin stopped tapping his fingers.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Not urgent.

The war had just begun, and supplies would only become increasingly scarce. Nearly half of the mineral and arms production lines were in his hands.

Austin can give Xilun the Spirit Source Water now, but what about in three months? What about in six months?

When war breaks out, all resources must be subordinated to the interests of the family. At that time, how much can an outsider get?

not to mention……

Oin opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the light shining through the gap in the curtains.

Xilun is only of the second order.

No matter how talented he is, no matter how rare his life techniques are, he is ultimately just a second-tier extraordinary being.

In this world, the difference between second-order and third-order is not a threshold, but a chasm.

Footsteps came from outside the side hall.

"Third Elder."

Oin lifted his eyelids.

The visitor was Oro.

His thin face wore its usual cautious expression. He entered, gently closed the door, and said in a low voice, "I've found out everything."

"explain."

"Yesterday, Siron performed a life-giving spell on Elder Campbell in the meditation room," Oro said.

"Specifically... those outside can't see it, but Black Star has been guarding the door the whole time. He said that Xilun went in for about an hour and came out pale, his mental energy was obviously greatly depleted."

Oin remained unmoved.

"And today?"

"This morning, the clan chief met with him alone. It's unclear what they talked about, but Lucas then arranged for someone to go to the west of the city to fetch a batch of Yin Spirit Source Water."

"How many?"

"One box."

Oin's right hand gripped the armrest slightly.

A box of Yinlingyuan Water.

The market price of that thing has now tripled—since the war started, all scarce resources related to extraordinary individuals have been skyrocketing in price.

One box is enough for a second-tier extraordinary cultivator to practice the Profound Yin Breathing Technique for nearly two months.

"Anything else?"

"Six bottles of Cold Marrow Essence, two boxes of Mind-Cleansing Incense, and three boxes of Tranquility Potion."

Oro reported one by one, "They were all approved by Lucas, directly transferred from the family treasury."

Oin remained silent for a long time.

The only sound in the side hall was the faint sound of the wind coming from outside the window.

Oro stood there, not daring to speak, cautiously observing the Third Elder's expression.