Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

"yes!"

Oro looked up: "Father, do you suspect he'll continue searching for materials?"

As Oin looked out the window at the sky, which was not yet fully bright, the corners of his mouth gradually flattened.

"It's not a doubt, it's a certainty."

He spoke very slowly.

"Last night he took so many cold-elemental resources. The first thing he'll do when he gets back won't be celebrate, but rather shut himself away and digest them. But no matter how many resources he has, without that final piece of the puzzle, he'll never get through. A person like Xilun won't gamble his fate on someone else. Since he's already sold me out, it means he's even more anxious now."

Oro suddenly understood something, his eyes lighting up: "So—"

"So what you should be doing right now isn't leading your men to rush into the North District and fight to the death," Oin said, "but rather finding out every possible path leading to the Lunar Silver Marrow."

He paused for a moment at this point.

My fingertips landed on the edge of the table and tapped it lightly.

"Then, wait for him to walk out on his own."

The hall was deathly silent.

Everyone could tell what was hidden behind those words.

It's not about letting them go.

Yes, etc.

When the knife leaves the crowd, leaves Albert, leaves the walls and gun barrels of the Brotherhood, when it walks into the fog on its own for the last piece of material—at that time, Oin will break it with his own hands.

The candle burned silently.

Finally, a hint of gray and white appeared on the horizon.

Oin stood up, his wound causing blood to seep from his sleeve again, but he seemed oblivious, simply draping his cloak back over his shoulders.

"Seal the warehouse door, drag the dead out, and let the living continue working." He walked towards the door, his voice colder than the morning wind. "From today onwards, anyone in the North District who dares to utter a single word about last night will have their tongue pulled out."

He paused slightly as he reached the door.

"And, Oro."

"exist."

"Remember your anger tonight." Oin didn't turn around. "Don't let it burn your brain. Keep it. You'll need it when you kill Siron later."

……

When daylight fully broke, the Brotherhood mansion's main gate remained closed.

The streets in the North District were quieter than usual.

It's not that no one woke up, but that those who did wake up didn't dare to speak loudly.

The sounds of bells and gunshots that came from the direction of the Tusol hunting grounds last night were like a dull knife, slowly scraping along every alley, causing merchants to close their stalls early, taverns to close their doors halfway, and even the newsboys to lower their voices.

The change of power is something that is far removed from the lives of the poor.

But when nobles draw their swords, the blood that flows out often reaches their feet first.

Inside the underground training room of the mansion, the brazier burned brightly.

A pile of newly moved iron boxes sat in the corner, their lids still covered in mud from the old warehouse of the hunting grounds.

Yinlingyuan Water, Cold Bone Crystal, Frost Pattern Leaf, and Quiet Sleep Powder were all renumbered and sealed by Rod, and arranged neatly.

Siren sat in the center of the carpet, shirtless.

He had injuries on his left rib, shoulder, back, and the outside of his right arm.

Some of the injuries were from scrapes of wood and flying stone fragments sustained while retreating in the old warehouse last night, while others were deeper, from hidden wounds accumulated from a series of battles previously fought.

Bloodstains can close wounds quickly, but they cannot completely erase fatigue from the very marrow of your bones.

A chill swirled around him.

The brazier was burning brightly, yet a thin layer of frost had formed on the ground.

Siren breathed slowly, his chest rising and falling very gently.

With each inhale, the chill descends along the throat, lungs, and blood vessels, like a thin, cold snake burrowing deep into the bone marrow; with each exhale, white mist rises from between the lips and teeth, condensing into tiny frost particles in front of the body.

When the Xuan Yin Breathing Technique is circulated to its deepest point, the pain is no longer sharp.

It became sluggish and heavy, as if someone had pressed a cold piece of iron against the chest, slowly sinking in.

Xilun did not stop.

He needs time.

But what we lack most is precisely time.

Oin might not dare to touch him now.

With the three third-rank members of the armed insurgent party having just made their move, Albert's shadow still looms over the Tussol family.

With Gran arrested and his military documents seized, Oin is busy appeasing his collateral branches, suppressing his old subordinates, and silencing the council of nobles. He will not openly take action against the Brotherhood anytime soon.

But this safety is very thin.

It's so thin, like window paper in winter, that it would crack if the wind blew.

Once Aoin has secured his position as chieftain, once Albert has extracted enough benefits from Tusor, and once all parties confirm that Xilun has not immediately advanced to the third tier—

All the accounts will be brought up and settled.

Very light footsteps came from outside the door.

Rhodes stopped outside the training room without knocking immediately.

Xilun opened his eyes.

"Enter."

Rod pushed open the door and entered, carrying several letters and a long, narrow wooden box.

He glanced first at the frost on the ground, then at Xilun's pale but composed face, the worry between his brows still lingering.

"Young Master, how are your injuries?"

"It can still move."

"This is not good news."

"Being able to move is enough."

Rod paused for a moment, then placed the wooden box on the table: "Mr. Lund sent two bottles of healing medicine and a letter. He said that if you dare to continue practicing Red Star within three days, he will personally come and break your legs."

Xilun took the letter, opened it, and glanced at it.

The handwriting is messy and the pressure is heavy.

The first half of the text criticizes him for using a third-tier weapon like a knife last night, while the second half is written more briefly—the Black Death Cult has been unusually quiet lately, and several external lines at the Third Charity Hospital have been withdrawn, as if they are waiting for a bigger storm.

The last sentence is only one sentence.

Don't push yourself to become a monster.

Xilun looked at the letter for a long time before folding it up.

Rhodes whispered, "Mr. Lund is very worried about you."

"He wasn't worried about me getting hurt."

"What is that?"

"I'm worried that I'm used to getting hurt."

Rhodes was speechless for a moment.

Xilun reached for a bottle of healing medicine, uncorked it, and the liquid had a pungent smell.

He tilted his head back and drank it down, his Adam's apple bobbing, without even frowning.

Rod unfolded another stack of letters.

"Regarding Tusol, Aoin has announced that last night, the armed insurgents attacked the old hunting grounds with the intention of assassinating the newly appointed acting chieftain."

Austin was temporarily placed under house arrest, three of his former subordinates were executed, and seven others relinquished their military command.

The Noble Council has not yet formally recognized Oin's status, but the City Hall has already sent people to offer their condolences.

"They acted very quickly."

"He has to be quick," Rhodes said. "If he's slow, the people below will start wondering if the patriarch who almost died last night is still worth their loyalty."

Xilun put on his coat and pressed his fingertips against the wound on his left rib.

The wound has closed, but there is still a tearing, dull pain inside.

"Oin will not publicly pursue the matter against me."

"At least not now," Rhodes said. "But there are two more groups of informants outside the mansion. One group is from Tusol, and the other group has clean identities, like intelligence brokers hired by the Noble Council. The armed insurgents are also in the distance, but they haven't come any closer."

"Let them see."

Rhodes nodded: "It's all arranged. Our people deliberately let them see the medicine kit, the doctor, the resources for your seclusion, and the illusion that you haven't left the house."

Xilun looked up: "An illusion?"

Rhodes calmly said, "Young Master, you don't really intend to stay in seclusion and wait until Oin has secured his position, do you?"

Xilun glanced at him and suddenly smiled.

The smile was faint, yet it eased the oppressive atmosphere in the training room somewhat.

Rod has been with him for so long that he doesn't need to say too much.

"What about the material supply line?"

"Still following up." Rhodes flipped to the bottom record.

"After the fire at the old Viscount Brandon's warehouse, three batches of old items were distributed. The first batch went to the South District Auction House, and it has been confirmed that there was no moon phase clock there."

The second batch was mortgaged to Fisher Bank, and it mainly consisted of silverware and oil paintings.

The third batch was the strangest—it was taken over by a watch repairman, then passed to a secondhand watch shop on Bay Road, and three days later bought by an antique dealer named Eugene.

"Eugene?"

"On the surface, he's an antique dealer, but secretly he handles shady relics for nobles. He hasn't returned to the city recently; instead, he went to White Cliff Town by the sea."

Xilun tapped his knee lightly with his fingertips.

Baiya Town.

The place was located in southeast Victoria, by the sea, with an old lighthouse, salt warehouses, a smuggling dock, and many middlemen who sold stolen goods for the nobility.

If the lunar phase silver marrow was indeed hidden in an old lunar phase bell, it wouldn't be surprising if it ended up there.

The closer you are to the sea, the easier it is for things to disappear.

Once the ship sets sail and the person changes their name, they can't be traced at all.

Rhodes continued, "Rena sent back a message in the middle of the night that Eugene is not alone. He has two guards with him, one of whom is suspected to be a second-tier extraordinary being."

Meanwhile, Tusol's men are also searching for old Brandon's belongings. They're a little slower than us, but they have more resources, and they should be able to reach White Cliffs within two weeks at most.

Xilun looked up: "Half a month?"

"Perhaps even shorter."

The meditation room was quiet for a while.

The charcoal in the brazier made a slight popping sound.

Xilun closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, the weariness in his eyes had been suppressed.

"Then half a month."

Rod frowned: "Young Master, your current physical condition—"

"It's precisely because my health isn't good that I need these two weeks."

Xilun said, "I will go into seclusion to recuperate. You will handle all external affairs. Let the outside world know that I am seriously injured and will not be leaving the mansion for some time."

"and then?"

"Two weeks later, I publicly visited the armed insurgent party."

Rhodes quickly understood.

"To see Albert?"

"On the surface, yes," Siren said. "After our cooperation last night, it's perfectly reasonable for me to visit him. Oin will be nervous, Tusol's informants will follow, and the Council of Nobles will wonder if we're up to something again."

"Actually?"

"On the return trip, we will change our route and go to Baiya Town."

Rhodes did not respond immediately.

The plan is simple, but dangerous.

Xilun is being watched by too many people now, and any trip he takes will trigger unseen events.

Visiting the armed insurgents could indeed create a large enough smokescreen, but once Oin saw through it, the material supply line in White Cliff Town would become a trap.

"How many people do we need to bring?" Rod asked.

"The less the better."

"Kuso?"

"No, he's too conspicuous."

"Lena?"

"She was there to provide support from the outside."

Rod said in a deep voice, "Young Master, bring at least two gunmen."

Xilun shook his head.

"I'm not going to fight a war."

Rod looked at him.

Siren added, "If a fight really breaks out, even two gunmen can't save me."

These words were both calm and jarring.

Rod pursed his lips.

He understood what Xilun meant.

This is no longer an ordinary gang conflict. The weakest of those watching him next are likely to be Tier 1 experts, while those who actually draw their swords are mostly Tier 2 or even Tier 3.

If ordinary gunmen follow, they will only become a hindrance.

"I will prepare two escape routes," Rod said, "one by land and one by water. White Cliff Town is by the sea, and with your water-dividing talent, the seaside is at least safer than the inland."

"Not enough."

Xilun walked to the table and picked up a Cold Bone Crystal.

The moment the gray-white crystal touched the skin, a layer of frost spread down the knuckles.

He applied slight pressure with his palm, and the chill was gradually drawn into his body.

"Find out the old swimming training data. Also, send over the underwater breathing, current, and tide direction records that I had compiled after the last time with Little Green Dragon."

Rhodes's expression changed slightly.

"You suspect you might be forced into the sea?"

"It's not a doubt."

Xilun looked down at the gradually fading Cold Bone Crystal in his palm.

"As long as Oin wants to kill me, he won't give me the chance to take the main road."

……

For the next two weeks, Siron did not leave the mansion.

At least that's how it appears to all outsiders.

The main gate of the mansion remained closed.

Every morning, a doctor would enter with a medicine box and leave in the evening; every night, Rhodes would personally deliver cultivation resources underground; the bitter smell of medicine being brewed in the mansion's kitchen would waft over the wall, and occasionally, a suppressed cough could be heard.

Tusol changed his eyeliner three times.

The first group was too hasty and tried to bribe the back door servants, but the next day they were thrown into the patrol team's cell by Kusso.

The second group was smarter; they disguised themselves as coal sellers, bread deliverymen, and street light repairmen, and slowly lay in wait across the street. Rod didn't touch them, only letting them see what they needed to see.

The third batch was the quietest.

They never approached, but instead took turns observing from the clock tower, the pharmacy attic, and the abandoned apartment two blocks away.

Xilun knew.

But he ignored it.

He only does four things every day.

Healing, meditation, practicing the Xuan Yin breathing technique, and water manipulation.

The underground training room already contained twenty-four water tanks, and the dense flow of water resembled his tentacles.

When it comes to underwater combat, Xilun considers himself invincible among his peers.

The clear water around him parted, gathered, swirled, and condensed into lines, sometimes like soft silk, sometimes like sharp knives.

After the cold breath merges into the water, the surface of the water will freeze silently, and then be shattered by the internal vibration of the thunderous sound, turning into fine ice sand.

When Kusso first saw it, he swore.

The second time, he remained silent.

The third time, he deliberately moved further away.

The ice sand that fell on the iron stake left a small dent.

Celen's injuries are slowly improving.

But he knew that wasn't enough.

The third level is like a heavy door, right in front of us.

He could even feel the cold wind seeping through the crack in the door.

But as long as the Moon Phase Silver Marrow is not obtained, that door will remain locked.

Two weeks later, one morning, a light rain began to fall in Victoria.

The rain was fine and dense, and the street surface shimmered with a gray light.

The main gate of the Brotherhood mansion was finally opened.

Xiren wore a dark black trench coat and a gray top hat. His face was paler than usual, but he walked steadily.

Rod held an umbrella and escorted him to the carriage.

The newsboy on the street corner looked up for a moment, then quickly looked down again.

The curtains on the second floor of the bakery across the street swayed slightly.

On the distant clock tower, a crow flapped its wings and took flight.

All eyes lit up.

Before Siren got into the carriage, Rod whispered, "The armed insurgents have confirmed that Albert will meet you at the old printing plant this morning. Rena is in the north river, the second carriage is in the back alley of the town square, and the third waterway is hidden under the iron bridge."

Xilun nodded.

"Where is the mansion?"

"Keep it closed as usual. If anyone tries to probe while you're away, we'll make them think you're still in the basement."

Xilun glanced at him.

"Don't force yourself to be strong."

Rod smiled and said, "Young Master, it's my turn to say that."