Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 151

No one dared to enter Khalif’s bedroom to report the latest developments.

Just over ten minutes ago, Khalif’s confidant, who had first reported Adan’s attack, had half his head crushed by a bronze deer head statue. Blood spread into ominous shapes across the carpet, trailing from the hallway to the stairs as they carried him out, leaving everyone terrified.

He had every reason to be furious. Adan was the chief organizer of the auction. If he died, all plans would be disrupted. Even if they gathered others to piece together the remaining three days, the imperfect execution would tarnish the Wolf’s reputation.

Xanye, too, had never seen him like this—his eyes bulging, veins popping, and breathing like a raging bull. The sight of the subordinate, half-dead from a single blow, was enough to instill fear. No one could be sure if he had enough reason left not to vent his anger on everyone in sight.

While others could avoid him, Xanye, sharing the room, had no such option. She had means to protect herself, but Khalif’s current fury was terrifying. It wasn’t the time to break ties with him, so she tried to diminish her presence, curling up on the bed in silence, her mind racing to understand what had happened.

“Call them all here!” Khalif roared, pacing the room like a trapped beast. “Everyone! Come see me immediately!”

The people outside the door, eager to escape the storm, quickly relayed his order, knowing he was referring to the Elders.

A few maids, almost in tears, dared not enter to clean the blood. The furious butler had to drag them to the stairwell for a scolding. The commotion Khalif made nearly alarmed the entire house. Prima woke up, thinking something was wrong, and put on a robe to check, but her governess stopped her in the hallway.

“A young lady of a good family doesn’t need to intervene in outside affairs,” the strict, middle-aged woman said. “You should stay in your room. Whatever happens, your father will handle it.”

Prima was anxious. “Did you hear that noise! Father rarely acts like this. What if something’s wrong? What if—what if there’s a fire?”

“If there’s a fire, someone will inform us.” Even at two in the morning, the woman, impeccably dressed in her gown, remained calm. “If you’re scared, I can read a chapter from Chris’ novel with you.”

“…No need,” Prima said. “I’m sorry for disturbing your rest. I’ll stay in my room.”

The woman, who was also half Prima’s maid, stayed in the room next to hers for convenience. Only after Prima obediently returned to her room did she turn and go to her own.

But Prima didn’t go back to bed as promised. Instead, she sat on the stool, lost in thought.

She thought of Priscilla. This was Prima’s first friendship with an outsider. In just a few days, she was almost irresistibly drawn to her. Priscilla wasn’t much older but had married far from home and, while pregnant, came to White Bridge, saying she “wanted to see the famous auction.”

Such independence and courage were qualities Prima lacked and longed for. She had been vaguely unhappy with her life but felt it was ungrateful to complain under such privileged conditions. Meeting Priscilla, who embodied her ideal self, gave her a clear concept of what she wanted.

A woman like that wouldn’t be deterred by a governess’ untimely advice. Prima, too, felt frustrated at being treated like a ten-year-old. After sitting and thinking for a long time, she decisively pinned up her curls.

She was going to see for herself.

Both ends of the hallway had stairs. To avoid disturbing others, she carefully descended the left side. Her soft shoes made almost no sound on the carpet. Like a sneaky little cat, she headed for her father’s floor.

Usually, even at midnight, there were guards near Khalif’s room, but tonight, his outburst had scared everyone away, or he had driven them off in his rage. The two floors were deserted.

Prima instinctively wanted to check on her father’s safety but heard his voice before reaching the hallway.

“Stay here,” Khalif’s voice said.

“I can help you check the dosage,” Xanye replied.

“No need.” Khalif sounded impatient. “This isn’t the first time. Go back to your room. If they arrive, have Causter take them to the conference room to wait for me.”

Xanye said no more. Prima didn’t want to see her, so she waited in the stairwell, but after a while, she realized Khalif had taken the other staircase. She lifted her skirt and turned to go down.

Khalif moved quickly. Even when she reached the corridor connecting to the living room, she didn’t see him. The hallway to the study and conference room was pitch dark, but the path to the basement was lit.

Why head to the basement? Prima hesitated for a moment. Her rebellious mood tonight made her follow without much thought.

Khalif had no lantern. The walls to the basement were inlaid with dimly glowing fluorites, providing just enough light to see a step or two ahead.

She had never been to the basement. As a child, she was afraid of monsters lurking in dark corners and didn’t dare go near. As she grew older, Khalif told her, “Dangerous weapons are stored there, not suitable for visiting.” Prima preferred sunny outings with friends and never seriously considered the mysterious basement.

Thinking of this, she moved quietly, not wanting to alert Khalif, and tiptoed down. The stairs weren’t carpeted. The cold stone beneath her soft shoes sent chills up her spine, making her wonder if she was underdressed.

However, the strange decorations on the walls distracted her most of the way. Although there were no wall lamps installed, every few steps there was a clock of various kinds—not the grand, intricate gilt floor clocks usually found in studies or banquet halls, but smaller ones that could hang on the wall, differing in style and size, from modern automatic wall clocks to antique timers. Prima glanced at a few and noticed that none of them kept accurate time. Each displayed a different time. The most extreme was a teardrop-shaped enamel clock, whose hands had stopped completely at 3:30 in the afternoon.

In addition to these clocks, there were many decorative doors on the walls. Although Prima had never been down here before, she knew her basement only had one level, accessible by a spiral staircase like a tower. But now, besides the clocks and fluorite stones, there were doors more bizarre than the mismatched clocks. Some were tall and narrow, just a willow wood door frame nailed to the wall with no handle; others looked realistic in the dim light but felt like paint on the stone when touched; and some were installed at ground level, only an inch high, like the one her friend Marie had on her bedroom door for her pet cat to come and go freely.

Such strange, impractical decorations had nothing to do with taste. This irrational setup could only mean one thing—it was related to magic.

Prima’s steps slowed.

Was this Xanye’s doing? The Wolf family was pragmatic, valuing magic but not excessively. Since Xanye’s arrival, Khalif had increasingly indulged in magic, which worried Prima, who wasn’t involved in family affairs, and now those worries were confirmed.

Khalif not only researched magic with the Monkey but also set up a lab under their floor. Judging by the setup, it had been there for a while.

But clocks and doors—what kind of magic was this? If it were altars, bat wings, and snakes, she could understand. But these seemingly purposeless items—were they magical or mere decorations for dark arts?

The basement had only one level, and the stairs weren’t long. Just as Prima reached the bottom, expecting Khalif in the end room, she saw a light ahead—from a door ajar.

A door?

Prima quietly approached and found a wooden door less than four feet high, with a wooden handle, different from the decorations. It was real and open, the light illuminating the steps.

The door was ajar, and the light spilling out illuminated the stairs. She could hear Khalif inside, making sounds like someone who had been strangled and was now painfully gasping for air, interspersed with curses.

Suddenly, she didn’t dare push the door open. Whatever Khalif was doing inside, he certainly wouldn’t want his daughter witnessing it. So, she lifted her skirt and peeked through the crack.

Inside was an ordinary room with a ceiling only a few feet high. The tall Khalif had to stoop to enter, but right now he didn’t need to stand straight because he was curled up on the floor, back to the door. His white nightgown was disheveled, revealing a large bunch of keys at his waist.

Beside him was a toppled crystal vial, its contents spilled. Prima wanted to see if it had a label, but then her father suddenly convulsed violently, his skin turning a horrific purple-red.

Prima wanted to push the door open and help him up immediately, not caring if she would be scolded later. But before she could move, Khalif let out a painful scream and curled up even more, completely unaware of Prima’s horrified look from outside the door. She turned her head and saw a small clock hanging by the wooden door start to chime. The sound was particularly clear in the quiet underground. As the clock chimed, Khalif’s hair, which had started to turn gray, gradually became black and shiny again. His slightly swollen body, a sign of old age, began to thin down. Prima could even see the veins on his exposed hand becoming more prominent and his muscle lines becoming more defined.

Prima covered her mouth, but she already knew what her father was doing. If it wasn’t time magic. It was body transformation. Either way, it was a forbidden area of magic for centuries. The Monkey might take pleasure in trampling on taboos, but he was a Wolf! She took a panicked step back, then decisively turned and ran up the stairs she had come down. The wooden clock behind her was still chiming, each sound striking her heart like a heavy hammer.

She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but the fluorite lights on the walls seemed dimmer than before. Sweating in fear, she ran without caring where she was headed. Just as she felt dizzy, someone suddenly grabbed her.

She almost screamed, thinking her father had caught up with her.

The person seemed startled as well and quickly let go.

“Watch your step,” they said. “What’s wrong?”

Prima looked up, her sweat-soaked bangs sticking to her cheeks. A handsome man stood before her, dressed neatly and even wearing gloves, as if for a formal event.

“Louis!” she whispered.

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