Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

No, these are not ordinary silver needles.

It was thicker than the silver needles that Xilun had seen, with a light gray tip and extremely fine engravings on the surface.

"You can take a look." David picked up the vial from the tray and handed it to Siron.

"The characteristics of leukemia are very obvious—after poisoning, the body tissues will gradually die, and the blood will turn black. It is difficult to detect in the early stages, but in the middle and late stages, the tips of the fingers and toes will be the first to show symptoms."

He pointed to the syringe.

"This is the antidote. If someone gets leukemia, it's still possible to inject this in the early stages."

Then he picked up the special silver needle.

"This is a testing needle, specially made—if you insert it into a suspected toxic substance and the needle turns black, it means the substance carries the black blood virus."

He put the three items back on the tray and pushed them toward Siron.

"Mr. Sir Lun can keep it if he finds it useful."

Xiren looked at the things on the tray.

There was a two-second silence.

Then he put the three items away.

The medicine bottle and syringe were stuffed into the inside pocket of the coat, and the silver needles were wrapped in velvet and put into the trouser pocket.

Thank you.

He is leaving.

David spoke again from behind.

"Mr. Celen."

His voice became more serious.

"Perhaps there's more to the story—"

He paused.

"But just investigate carefully."

It is also said—

"Actually, I just need to focus on treating my father's illness peacefully; there's no need to be so busy."

Putting these two sentences together creates a rather subtle meaning.

The first sentence sounds like encouragement: Go ahead and check, just be careful.

The next sentence is a reminder: but it's best not to check.

Which one is it?

Xilun did not press further.

He took two steps toward the door.

"Mr. Celen."

David's voice rang out for the third time.

This time, there was an undisguised seriousness in his tone.

"I need you right now."

He said, enunciating each word clearly, "I hope you won't wander off without permission—like leaving the Link family or anything like that."

Xilun paused for a moment.

Then he nodded slightly.

"I see."

He pushed open the door and went out.

The corridor remained dimly lit.

Xilun walked slowly with his eyes closed.

They're not resting—they're analyzing.

David's intentions now seem quite clear.

First, he did not want Xilen to investigate further.

Secondly, he warned Celen not to leave.

Xilun wondered if he could leave unscathed five days later if he gave up the investigation and simply treated the chieftain peacefully.

He felt it was impossible.

Not because of David—

It was because of the person who released the first virus.

That person needs a scapegoat.

And Xilun was the perfect scapegoat—an extraordinary outsider who possessed the Elder's Decree, had access to the Patriarch's bedroom, and had both the authority and the motive.

Even if he heals the clan chief—as long as the murderer remains in the shadows, he could be framed again at any time.

Therefore, he must find out the truth.

Not for the Link family—

It's for myself.

But David made it clear that he didn't want him to investigate.

Why?

Xilun pondered for a moment.

A possibility has emerged.

If the murderer is Risa—

That explains David's attitude.

Risa is his mother.

No matter what she did, David couldn't stand by and watch her be exposed by outsiders.

He wanted Xilun to cure his father, but he didn't want Xilun to implicate his mother.

So he restricted Xilun's movements on the one hand, and provided him with tools on the other.

It means: You just focus on treating the illness, I'll handle the mess myself.

This makes sense.

But what if the killer wasn't Risa?

What if the killer is David himself?

An eldest son who has long been sidelined, with his father bedridden and his mother holding the real power in the family, he is nominally the heir, but in reality lives in the shadows.

If the father dies, the position of clan chief will naturally fall to him.

By then, he will no longer be a shadow.

He is the light.

Siron was unsure, but he did not rule out the possibility.

After returning to his room, he locked the door.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, took out the specially made silver needle, and twirled it between his fingers twice.

Then he put away the silver needles, drank a bottle of tranquility potion, and lay down on the bed.

He needs rest.

Real rest—not a performance.

Because a second pressure test will be conducted tomorrow.

Before closing his eyes, he set rules for himself in his mind.

From now on—

In front of anyone, he was that extraordinary outsider, weakened by the purification of pollution.

Walk slowly, speak softly, and cough occasionally.

His face was pale and he looked tired.

It looks like it could collapse at any moment.

This is his camouflage.

Until he finds out the truth or leaves this place.

……

Time passed in silence.

Xilun slept until nine o'clock in the evening.

After waking up, he did not go out, but leaned against the headboard and looked through the literature on the No. 1 virus.

The flickering light of the oil lamp cast shadows on his face.

He never left the room.

the other side.

In the reception room on the second floor of the east wing.

David sat behind his desk with several documents spread out in front of him, but his eyes did not fall on the papers.

The butler pushed open the door and came in, announcing softly.

"I checked."

David looked up.

"Mr. Siron did not leave after returning to his room."

David glanced at the grandfather clock on the table.

10:07 PM.

It's almost time to rest.

He was silent for a moment.

"I hope so."

After a while, he seemed to be saying to himself:

"Actually, there's no need to know too much."

His fingers tapped lightly twice on the table.

"Otherwise, it will always attract attention."

The housekeeper did not respond.

He simply bowed slightly and left the room.

David sat alone in the dim light.

His gaze fell on the family portrait painting on the wall—in the painting, he, as a child, was standing stiffly in front of his father, his hands neatly placed on the seams of his trousers.

He stared at the painting for a long time.

Then he stood up and drew the curtains.

……

at the same time.

In another bedroom in the west wing of the manor.

Risa sat in front of the dressing table.

She wasn't looking in the mirror—she was just sitting with her hands on her knees, her fingers tightly intertwined.

Her profile was reflected in the mirror.

On her well-maintained face, the corners of her mouth were slightly downturned, and her nasolabial folds were deeper than usual.

Her gaze was empty.

It's like looking at something very far away.

Much later, she stood up.

I stepped out of the bedroom.

Walk along the corridor towards the east wing.

Her footsteps were light, and the rustling of her skirt was exceptionally clear in the empty corridor.

They walked to the door of the clan chief's bedroom.

She didn't go in.

I just stood far away, a dozen steps away, looking at the tightly closed door.

A dim, yellow light shone through the crack in the door.

The two guards immediately stood at attention and saluted when they saw her.

Risa did not respond.

She stood there for about a minute.

Then turned and left.

His complexion was complicated.

Her steps changed direction—not back to her bedroom, but towards the second floor of the east wing.

David's meeting room.

She knocked on the door.

The door opened.

David was taken aback when he saw her.

Then he called out—

"mom."

Risa went inside.

David told the butler, "Get out."

The butler left the room and closed the door behind him.

Only the mother and son remained in the room.

Separated by a door, no one knew what they were saying.

Five minutes later.

Risa pushed open the door and came out.

Her complexion was even worse than before she went in.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and two unnatural red patches floated on her cheekbones.

She walked briskly back to the west wing along the corridor.

They entered the bedroom.

Close the door.

A moment later, her voice came from inside the door.

It was very low and soft, as if someone were speaking to someone.

"Don't hesitate any longer."

"Let's get started."

……

late at night.

The manor was shrouded in thick darkness.

The roses in the flowerbed lost their color in the moonlight, turning into a grayish-white silhouette. Occasionally, the calls of night birds could be heard from the treetops in the distance, sharp and short.

The third floor of the west wing.

In Xilun's guest room, the oil lamp had already been extinguished.

He lay on the bed, breathing evenly, and appeared to be fast asleep.

In the darkness—

There was a figure outside the window.

The figure was pressed against the wall outside the window, motionless, as if it were part of the building itself.

It stayed there for about thirty seconds.

Then it disappeared silently.

A while later.

Xilun opened his eyes.

In the darkness, his gaze was clear and calm, a stark contrast to his weak and exhausted appearance during the day.

"If you're keeping an eye on me, be prepared to be discovered."

He said those words to himself.

The reverberation chamber was always running at low power—a habit he had developed in the North District, and it was never completely shut off, even while he was sleeping.

The faint breathing of the figure outside the window, the rustling of clothes against the wall, and the pressure of feet on the stone slab as they briefly touched the windowsill—

The entire echo chamber was captured.

Who's watching me?

Siren sat up silently from the bed.

He didn't turn on the light.

In the darkness, put on your coat and tuck the pistol and Soul-Suppressing Nails close to your body.

Then he went to the window and gently placed his fingers on the window frame.

The reverberation chamber's far-field listening mode is activated.

He closed his eyes, recalling the movements of the figure as it left.

Footsteps—very light, but rhythmic. Those of a trained person.

direction--

Move to the left along the eaves outside the window.

left.

Susie and Daisy's room is in that direction.

Xilun breathed as softly as possible.

He quietly pushed open the window and climbed out.

The night breeze carried the earthy scent of the garden.

His movements were light and precise, his feet landing on the narrow edge of the eaves without making a sound.

Then he moved to the left along the eaves.

The reverberation chamber continues to work, gathering all the sound information from the surroundings.

I walked about ten steps.

He stopped.

The surrounding area became blurry here.

It's like someone entered through a window—

But he couldn't be completely sure whether the window belonged to Daisy or Susie.

The two rooms are next to each other, and the windows are too close together.

Xilun hesitated for a moment.

What does that mean?

Did someone enter one of the people's rooms?

What is the purpose?

He waited on the roof for almost another minute.

Then--

A figure climbed out of Susie's window.

Its movements were clean and swift, like a cat's.

The figure landed on the roof and then disappeared into the night with a leap.

Xilun did not pursue.

He climbed straight into Susie's window.

The instant he landed, his hand was already on the grip of the pistol.

The room was dark.

Moonlight streamed through the gap in the curtains that hadn't been closed, casting a pale band of light on the floor.

He quickly scanned the area.

Table, chair, wardrobe, bed—

Then he saw those eyes.

Susie.

She sat up in bed.

She was wearing a white cat-patterned pajama top with a wide neckline that revealed a sliver of her thin collarbone. Her face was so pale it was almost translucent, and her hair was disheveled and draped over her shoulders.

She sat there quietly.

Stare at him.

He didn't say a word.

Eyes—

calm.

It wasn't fear, it wasn't surprise, it wasn't the panic you'd feel if someone suddenly barged into your bedroom.

It is about calmness.

Those eyes were so clear in the moonlight that they didn't look like those of a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl.

They are like two pools of cold water at the bottom of a deep well, their depth unknown.

The two stared at each other for three seconds.

Xilun spoke first.

"I saw someone come in."

His voice was low, but his tone was steady.

Susie blinked.

"You can leave now."

That same phrase again.

Xilun did not leave.

"What do you mean?" He stared at her. "Do you know something—why have you been trying to persuade me to leave?"

Susie blinked again.

That empty, sluggish expression returned to her face, like a mask slowly covering the calm she had just displayed.

She seems to be playing dumb again.

Xilun interrupted her directly.

"I have no way out."

His voice wasn't loud, but he pronounced every word clearly.

"I can't leave. David won't let me go—he needs me to treat his father's illness."

"And if I don't understand what's really going on here, I'll remain passive, constantly being led by the nose, until someone pins all the blame on me."

He paused.

"If you know anything—I hope you'll tell me."

Susie blinked.

He didn't say anything.

Xilen sighed; it seemed she didn't trust him.

That's true—

How could a girl who had survived in this manor by pretending to be stupid for several years possibly lower her guard because of a few words from an outsider?

He changed direction.

"Someone just came in through your window," he said. "Do you know what he did?"

Susie blinked.

"I didn't see clearly." Her voice was soft and childish, with a dazed tone. "It looked like she was fiddling with something on the table."

He talks like a child who knows nothing.

Xilun knew perfectly well that she was pretending to be stupid—

But hearing her say that, it seemed as if she really didn't know anything.

This sense of contradiction gave him a headache.

He didn't argue, and turned to walk to the table.

The moonlight shone on the table, cold and pale.

A porcelain plate was placed on the table.

There were three pastries on the plate—delicate, cream-colored little squares, which looked like a late-night snack at the manor.

Xilun stared at the three pastries for a few seconds.

He reached out and released a wisp of his aura, which slowly enveloped the plate.

Capture.

observe.

The aroma gently swept across the surface of the pastry.

for a long time--

No results found.

At least there was nothing unusual about the aura.

He frowned.

suddenly--

It was as if he had thought of something.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the specially made silver needle.

David gave him silver needles to test for the black blood virus.

He gently inserted the needle into the pastry and slowly pulled it out.

Starting from the needle tip, a layer of murky black spread rapidly along the needle shaft, as if something had eroded the surface.

Silver needles

It turned black!