Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Those eyes didn't look like those of someone terminally ill.

There was no turbidity, no confusion.

Deep within his pupils was a calm, cold, almost scrutinizing clarity.

Like an old lion in a slumber.

Roy glanced at Xilen.

He opened his lips, his voice hoarse.

It seems they said something.

Xilun sat motionless on the edge of the bed.

He stared at Roy's face for a long time.

His dark, cracked face was expressionless.

But Xilun knew.

He knows everything.

This person—

I was never truly near death from the very beginning.

A moment later, Xilun stood up.

He walked to the door and paused for two seconds.

Then he opened the door.

David stood outside the door, almost pressed against the door frame.

"How is it?"

His voice was filled with barely suppressed anxiety.

Xilun looked at him and remained silent for a moment.

"Much better."

David was taken aback.

"Things are better than I expected," Xilen said calmly, as if stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.

"The pollution has been largely eradicated, and the virus has been suppressed. Your father's physique is far beyond that of ordinary people—as a third-tier extraordinary being, his vitality is even stronger than I estimated."

David's lips moved.

"That……"

"I think I'll wake up within the next two days."

As those words were spoken, the corridor became so quiet that the chirping of birds could be heard from the distant courtyard.

David let out a long sigh.

His shoulders slumped, as if the string supporting his body had been pulled out.

"That's good...that's good..."

He repeated it over and over, his voice trembling.

Then he raised his head, looked at Xilun, and solemnly bowed.

"Mr. Siren, you've worked hard. Please get some rest."

Xilun nodded slightly.

He walked past David and headed down the corridor toward the west wing.

He took a few steps and then stopped.

"Oh, right."

"Hmm?" David turned his head.

"I'd like to speak with Ms. Risa to ask her some questions," Siron said. "Where does she live?"

David paused for a moment.

This question came rather abruptly.

But he didn't think much of it.

“It’s behind the estate,” David said, “the house with the red chimney, you can see it if you walk north past the flowerbed.”

Thank you.

Xilun turned and left.

David was the only one left in the corridor.

He stood there, watching Xilun's figure disappear around the corner.

Then he turned around and glanced at the closed bedroom door.

Behind the door, his father was still asleep.

Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow.

David's gaze darkened.

He turned and walked in another direction.

……

The Red Chimney House is a two-story building located on the north side of the estate.

The red brick walls were covered with ivy, and the red on the chimneys stood out brightly in the morning light.

Xilun stood in front of the door and straightened his collar.

Then he raised his hand and knocked three times.

Boom, boom, boom.

A moment later, footsteps came from inside the door.

A maid opened the door and looked Xilun up and down.

"Excuse me--"

"I am Siron," he said, "I have come to visit Ms. Risa."

The maid's expression changed slightly.

"Please wait a moment."

The door closed.

About a minute later.

The door reopened.

"Madam, please come in."

Xilun strode in.

The living room wasn't large, but it was tastefully decorated. There was a velvet sofa, a mahogany coffee table, a small fire burning in the fireplace, and a faint floral fragrance filling the air.

Risa sat at one end of the sofa, holding a cup of tea in her hand.

She smiled.

"So it was Xilun who came."

She was a completely different person from the last time we met.

There was no anger, no hostility, and even the condescending arrogance had vanished.

Instead, a proper, gentle, and even somewhat friendly smile was given.

Like the matriarch of a large family receiving an important guest.

Xilen stood there, watching her.

His gaze was calm.

"lady."

"Have a seat," Risa said, gesturing to the sofa opposite her.

Xilun walked over and sat down.

He noticed that two cups of tea had already been prepared on the coffee table.

"What made you think of coming here?" Risa asked casually.

"I'd like to ask some questions about Susie."

Risa paused slightly in the hand holding the teacup.

Then she smiled.

"I don't know her well," she said. "You've got the wrong person."

She put down her teacup and casually added, "Perhaps we could ask Daisy about it; the sisters have a good relationship."

"Is that so?" Xilun nodded. "It seems I've come to the wrong place."

Risa maintained her smile well.

"How is the master?" she asked casually.

That's a very natural question.

It sounded like concern, but it also sounded like polite formality.

Xilun nodded slightly.

"not bad."

"If all goes well," he said, "we might have the results tomorrow."

Risa paused in her movements.

The hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air.

A very subtle crack appeared on the perfectly timed smile on her face.

"Did it go so smoothly?"

"Yes," Siren said, "it must be because Chief Link, as a third-tier extraordinary being, has an exceptional physique. An ordinary person probably wouldn't have lasted this long. It's precisely because of his good foundation that the treatment went much more smoothly than expected."

He coughed twice as he spoke.

The cough wasn't loud, but it sounded very tired.

"These past two days have been really tiring," Xilun rubbed his temples, a forced, bitter smile in his voice. "The continuous stress has taken a toll, and my mind isn't quite clear."

Risa looked at him.

"You've worked hard," she said.

The sound was very soft.

Xilun stood up and bowed slightly.

"Excuse me, madam."

He turned and walked out of the living room.

The door closed behind me.

Risa sat on the sofa without moving.

The tea in the teacup has gone cold.

Her gaze fell on the flames in the fireplace, the flickering light casting shadows on her face.

brow--

They were tightly folded together.

As dusk fell on the west wing rooftops of the manor, the twilight bathed the entire courtyard in a warm, golden light.

Xilun returned to his guest room and closed the door.

He did not light the lamp.

In the darkness, he walked to the bedside and sat down.

He took the pistol from behind his waist and placed it under his pillow.

He took the Soul-Suppressing Nail off his sleeve and placed it on the bedside table.

Then he lay down.

Lie face up with your hands folded in front of your chest.

Breathing is steady.

It's as if he doesn't care about anything at all.

In fact—

He is waiting.

Xilun closed his eyes, and the reverberation chamber remained open at its lowest power setting.

The sounds of the entire manor surged in like a tide, only to be filtered by him into countless fine lines.

Footsteps in the corridor—maids changing shifts.

The clash of weapons on the training ground in the distance—the daily drills of the armed guards.

The sounds of pots and pans in the kitchen—dinner preparation.

Someone is watering the flowerbed.

Business as usual.

But Siren knew that tonight would not be peaceful.

The message he revealed to Risa was too blunt—the chieftain might wake up tomorrow.

What does this news mean for someone who has been poisoning her husband for a long time, trying to let him die slowly in his hospital bed?

This means that all her plans are about to fall apart.

This means that once the clan leader regains consciousness, many things will no longer be able to be concealed.

She has to make her move tonight.

And it will be even more radical than before.

Xilun rolled over and buried his face in the pillow.

He was indeed tired.

Two consecutive days of decompression therapy have depleted a lot of my mental energy. Although I'm recovering well today, the heavy feeling of fatigue in my body is real.

but--

enough.

He just needs to wait.

……

the other side.

The third floor of the west wing.

Susie, carrying a small cloth bag, gently knocked on the door next door.

"elder sister."

The door opened.

Daisy stood at the door, and when she saw Susie, a look of surprise appeared on her face.

"Susie? What brings you here?"

"I want to...sleep with my sister."

Susie lowered her head and spoke softly, like a cat afraid of the cold.

Daisy's gaze softened.

"Come in quickly."

She reached out and pulled Susie into the room, helping her place the small cloth bag on the bedside table.

The cloth bag contained a neatly folded nightgown and a salted biscuit.

"You haven't had dinner yet?"

"I ate it." Susie shook her head. "I kept it."

Daisy did not press the matter.

She knew Susie's habit—she always liked to keep something to eat by her bedside, as if that was the only way she could fall asleep peacefully.

The two changed their clothes and got into bed.

Daisy's bed was large and soft.

Susie huddled under the covers, only half her face showing.

Her eyes appeared exceptionally large in the dim light, like two glass beads soaked in water.

"elder sister."

"Um?"

"It's so good that you have a mom and dad."

Daisy's heart skipped a beat.

She turned around and looked at Susie's pale face.

Susie's expression was calm.

There was no envy, no sadness.

It's just stating a fact.

But it is precisely because it is so peaceful—

It only makes people feel more sorry for them.

Daisy reached out and gently pulled Susie's head into her arms.

"From now on, I'll be Susie's mom and dad," she said, her voice a little strained. "I'll take good care of you."

Susie didn't say anything.

She buried her face in Daisy's chest, her tiny fingers clutching her pajamas.

After a while, she said something in a muffled voice.

"My sister seems to be in a bad mood lately."

Daisy paused for a moment.

She looked down at Susie in her arms and gave a bitter smile.

"I'm worried about my father."

She gently combed Susie's hair with her fingers, her voice lowering.

"The situation within the clan is very complicated right now. Father is so ill... and someone is secretly poisoning him. I don't know who that person is, but it's very likely an elder, or—"

She didn't continue.

Some possibilities were too sinister for her to mention in front of Susie.

Susie listened quietly.

Will your sister's parents also leave you?

These words were like a fine needle, piercing Daisy's heart.

Her hand stopped.

"Whether it's the father or the mother—"

Daisy's voice was very soft, so soft it seemed like it was about to break.

"I can't accept them leaving me."

"They are the best people in the world to me."

Susie didn't move.

Her breathing was shallow and light.

After a while, she spoke again.

"Sister, don't you have an older brother?"

Daisy frowned slightly.

"I'm not very familiar with him."

"Although my brother is polite to everyone and is a good role model for everyone in the clan—"

She paused for a moment.

"But I don't like him."

Susie didn't ask why.

She simply hugged Daisy tightly in silence.

It's like hugging a tree.

A tree that was unaware it was about to be uprooted before the storm arrived.

……

Late at night.

The manor lights went out one by one, leaving only the wall lamp at the end of the corridor with a faint glow.

East Wing.

The patriarch's bedroom.

Two night watchmen sat on chairs outside the door; one was dozing off, and the other was wiping a dagger.

Footsteps came from deep within the corridor.

It's very light and very stable.

The servant wiping the knife looked up and saw Risa.

She wore a dark long dress, a dark red shawl, and her hair was loosely tied back.

"Madam." The servant stood up.

"I've come to see the master."

Risa's tone was very flat.

The attendant nodded and did not stop them.

This is the clan chief's wife, the person in the entire manor who least needs to be stopped.

Moreover—

The people on night watch were Risa's men.

Risa pushed open the bedroom door and went inside.

The door closed behind him.

The bedroom was dark, with only a small oil lamp burning on the bedside table.

Roy lay on the bed, like a withered statue.

Risa stood in front of the bed, looking down at him.

Her gaze was complex.

There is indifference, there is weariness.

Perhaps there was also a trace—a very faint, almost imperceptible—of pity.

But that glimmer of pity vanished after a moment.

She turned around.

In the corner of the bedroom, a dark shadow silently emerged.

The man wore a dark gray cloak, the hood pulled low, revealing only the lower half of his face. He had a strong jawline and tightly pressed lips.

A man.

He's always been here.

She was here before Risa came in.

Risa walked up to him and lowered her voice.

"Pour your energy into his body and let it lie dormant."

Her tone was cold and precise, as if she were issuing an instruction she had rehearsed countless times.

"Tomorrow morning, Siren will come in for the final treatment. When he begins to activate the incantation—let that power erupt and destroy his body from the inside."

She paused for a moment.

"It would be best if he died during the treatment."

The man nodded slightly.

“That way,” Risa continued, “not only can we get rid of Roy, but we can also take care of Siron at the same time. The patient’s sudden death due to improper treatment—that reason is enough to shut everyone up.”

Her voice was eerily calm.

Like they're planning tomorrow's dinner menu.

The shadowy figure remained silent.

He turned around and walked towards the bedside.

near.

Get closer.

He looked down at Loy Link, who lay motionless on the bed.

This is the fifth-generation head of the Link family.

Viscount.

Third-order extraordinary.

Aberrant individuals.

At this moment, it looks like nothing more than a dying shell.

The shadowy figure reached out a hand.

His fingers were long and strong, with a faint dark light emanating from the tips—a trace of concentrated strength.

He grabbed Roy's wrist.

I felt a faint pulse.

Extremely slow, extremely weak.

Like a lamp about to burn out.

He began to channel his energy into his wrist.

That force, like a thin snake, slithered inward along Roy's veins—

Then--

He was stunned.

My wrist was gripped from behind.

The force was not great.

But it's frighteningly stable.

Like iron clamps.

The shadowy figure's pupils constricted sharply, and it tried to pull its hand away—

late.

Roy opened his eyes.

At the same time, his body sprang up suddenly, like a bow that had been bent for too long.

He grabbed the shadowy figure's wrist with his left hand and twisted it.

His right hand shot out like a snake, precisely gripping the shadowy figure's throat.

The entire movement was completed in one smooth motion, without the slightest hesitation or delay.

It's like a hunter tightening all the ropes the moment the prey touches the trap.

The shadowy figure's body was forcibly twisted, and its spine made a low cracking sound.

He wanted to struggle, to fight back—

But the hand gripping his throat possessed a strength that no "dying person" should have.

Third tier!

This is the power of a third-tier extraordinary being.

And it's not a typical third-order unit.

He is a mutant who reached the upper tier of the third order at his peak and has decades of combat experience.