Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 172

Run. Run fast.

Amber had only one thought in his mind. He didn’t know where to go or who the intruders were. His carriage-driving skills were only learned from mercenaries during breaks from his literacy lessons. He had never driven a carriage at full speed alone, and being unfamiliar with the terrain, he had a couple of near turn-overs when making sharp turns—but he managed to handle it, with his heart pounding wildly.

This wasn’t because he feared the assassins following them. Born in an underground arena, Amber was never afraid of death. What he worried about were the people in the carriage: Lady Priscilla’s belly was very large now, and even when she walked slowly in the garden, Amber feared that the bumps would hurt her.

But he couldn’t slow down. Probably because the auction was about to start, most people in the inner city were focused on the central auction hall. They had chosen their new house in a very secluded location to stay low-key. Although it wasn’t dark yet, the twilight was dim, the wind was getting colder, the streetlights hadn’t turned on, and there were few pedestrians, scattered in twos and threes—

Amber’s eyes widened suddenly. Not far ahead, a man in a bowler hat suddenly had his waist stretch up to the height of two stories, making his whole body thin and elongated like a tall, shriveled scarecrow. He awkwardly turned his head towards them, as if he were about to lean forward.

Was it an illusion or… Amber instinctively wanted to slow down. At that moment, someone grabbed his hand and pulled it skillfully. The carriage made a dangerous turn and darted into the neighboring street.

“Erica.” Amber loosened the reins and asked in a low voice, “What was that?”

“A type of puppet, but different from a witch’s.” Erica didn’t look back. The shops on both sides of the street they sped past were tightly shut. The same kind of creepy monsters emerged from the cracks in the sidewalk tiles, one after another, growing tall and large like disgustingly accelerated mushrooms.

Ordinary swords and knives couldn’t harm them, but at this moment, Erica was the only one with magic. Her usual cautious approach paid off now. The map of the inner city and basic defenses given to her by Louis were imprinted in her mind, requiring no extra thought. Erica decisively crossed one block after another, using a few unexpected turns and reversals to temporarily shake off the puppets.

When the carriage finally stopped at a deserted street corner, the sun had completely set, but for some reason, the streetlights were dim, with several flickering on and off, creating an ominous feeling.

Amber opened the carriage door, and Prima, startled, looked up. Seeing it was him, she breathed a sigh of relief. Emerald was wedged between two seats, looking very angry because no one helped it break free.

But Amber told them to stay put. He and Erica jumped off the carriage together and circled around to observe. Erica twisted open a lantern hanging on the carriage, approached the back of the carriage, and saw several mud-like stains illuminated by the light.

“Puppet marks,” Erica explained softly to Amber without touching them. “The carriage is contaminated. They’ll catch up eventually unless we cleanse these marks in time.”

Though Erica had talent, she had always treated magic as a supplementary skill and had never systematically studied it. Attacking was barely manageable for her, but cleansing wasn’t her forte.

If Mr. Charlie were here, he might be able to do it, but—

Erica glanced at the sky and reported the carriage’s situation to Priscilla.

“Then let’s get off,” Priscilla said softly. “If we’ll be tracked anyway, there’s no point in running endlessly.”

“I’ve sent a message to Shivers. He will try to meet us, but we need to find a safe place first.” Erica picked up Emerald and handed it to Amber, then turned to Prima. “Prima, please help. Yes, the Lady is not very mobile right now…”

Prima had been supporting Priscilla even inside the carriage to prevent her from getting jolted. She slung the large bundle over her shoulder and helped Priscilla out of the carriage. Amber wanted to help her with the bundle, but she firmly refused.

“I have the strength,” she said. “But I can’t fight, so at least I shouldn’t be a burden to you now.”

She pulled a thin blanket from the seats inside the carriage and used it as a cloak to wrap around Priscilla. “Where should we go? Priscilla can’t walk too far.”

Priscilla held Prima’s arm tightly under the cloak. Neither voiced their worry: Priscilla had been feeling unwell since earlier, but they knew they couldn’t stop here.

Erica and Amber led Priscilla across the street. Amber lingered for a moment, doing something unknown. Suddenly, the horse pulling the carriage neighed loudly and ran off with the empty carriage down another road.

……

Khalif didn’t use the guest entrance. Instead, he entered the venue through a gate that wasn’t open to the public, surrounded by a team of guards. The hall, usually decorated with silver and red, was adorned tonight with extremely expensive ultramarine drapes, gilded wall panels, and glittering chandeliers, with a huge rock sculpture of several majestic wolves in the center.

Dwight stood on the second-floor balcony, looking down at Khalif, who seemed mesmerized by the statue.

“There’s a similar sculpture in the city’s largest gambling house, the Platinum Palace—a life tree with a few monkeys climbing on it,” Shivers whispered. “The two families have similar histories.”

“Otherwise, they wouldn’t partner up to rob,” Dwight sneered, withdrawing his gaze as a lady, arm in arm with her male companion, walked by and curiously glanced at them.

Dwight wore a half-silver mask. His light golden hair was tied in a bundle behind him, and he had grown taller recently. His suit, bought off the rack, made him feel a bit constrained. The lower half of his exposed face was always tense, giving even passing strangers a sense of his low spirits.

Shivers wanted to say something but suddenly changed his expression, nodded slightly to the Duke, and quickly turned to leave. Hasting, who had been two steps away, stepped forward to fill the gap.

Dwight instinctively rubbed the gem at the top of his cane. Only one special circumstance would cause Shivers to leave him with his back turned: Erica contacting him urgently because of Priscilla. This was a direct order from Dwight himself.

Is there a problem with Priscilla? Then what’s Louis doing?!

Dwight no longer paid attention to Khalif in the hall and headed for their reserved private box.

They had secured a very good private box through an internal discount arranged by Louis before Adan’s incident. Originally, the Duke disliked doing such “petty” things, but the rabbit-headed shopkeeper excitedly went through the back door to get the VIP seat despite Dwight’s wishes, causing him to ask Shivers if Dwight had a habit of being overly generous.

Now, there was already someone sitting in the box—the well-connected, rabbit-headed shopkeeper. Because his head still maintained the appearance of a rabbit, he arrived early to avoid unnecessary attention.

He was sitting on a single sofa, studying the auction catalog and jotting notes in a notebook. On the table were his top hat and a half-drunk glass of iced mint tea, with crystal-clear condensation droplets on the glass.

He looked carefree.

The Duke, with a stern face, approached and flicked one of his slightly swaying, long ears. “Where’s your brother?”

Charlie, engrossed in writing, had to look up when interrupted. “What?”

“Erica contacted Shivers urgently. There must be an issue with Priscilla. Shouldn’t your brother be with her right now?” Dwight sat on another sofa, and Hasting moved the top hat from the table to the hat rack by the door.

Charlie put down his pen, eyes shifting. From his jacket pocket, he took out a flat paper bird. “Hasting, this place is full of surveillance magic—don’t look at me like that. Of course, I cleared this box. Find a window opening outside and release the messenger. It knows where Louis is.”

Hasting took the folded paper bird. In the blink of an eye, it quickly expanded into a fluffy ball in his hands, without any visible beak.

Charlie whistled. “You’re in good shape. This building usually rejects unregistered magic. I thought it would need the window open to transform.”

The young knight, unfamiliar with small animals, feared crushing the bird if he squeezed too hard, yet couldn’t just openly carry it to the window. Awkwardly, he cupped it gently and walked out.

“Louis wouldn’t stay too close to Priscilla,” Charlie said, watching Hasting leave, then responding to Dwight’s earlier question.

“Nonsense. He has a responsibility—”

“Of course, he takes responsibility. I mean, he doesn’t like being close to people he cares about,” Charlie explained patiently. “Louis hates the Holy Grail’s bloodline more than I do. He thinks the World Dragon is a symbol of terror and tragedy, and the Holy Grail awakening it’s no different from a curse. So he believes that he himself, as the Holy Grail, represents terror and tragedy, bringing misfortune to those around him. The first proof of this was our mother.”

Then there was Fahim, who exhausted himself for them, his original illness worsening from overthinking. Louis never voiced it, but Charlie knew deep down he had these thoughts.

His brother always had severe self-loathing tendencies, even extending to Charlie, who shared his bloodline. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have responded to Fahim’s question about what if Charlie were the Holy Grail and found by the Wolf Family with “Then I’d kill him myself.” This response also meant if Louis were the Holy Grail, he could end himself without burden.

However, Louis also deeply cared about his brother—perhaps the person he cared most about in the world was Charlie. These feelings weren’t contradictory for Louis.

“I’m very worried about him.” Charlie sighed, closing his notebook. “I thought becoming a father would make him care more about himself, but it hasn’t… That’s why I didn’t stay with Eugene and the others but followed Khalif. Now Louis is likely targeting him.”

“You mean to say your brother is a misanthropic pessimist,” Dwight said expressionlessly.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Charlie rebuked. “He just has a little psychological issue. He…”

He stopped talking and looked at the box door closed by Hasting. A caterpillar was stuck in the door crack, half outside still paper, half inside a full, wriggling bug, which gave the Duke a disgusted look.

They all stopped talking. Down the hallway, Khalif led a group of people towards them, his face barely suppressing his rage.

“Useless fools! You had the coordinates but still missed them. Send more people—” He couldn’t wait to give orders until inside the box, gritting out his words. “Even if you have to turn White Bridge upside down, find Prima. If you can’t, just kill yourselves on the spot. Don’t come back!”

Xanye followed behind, looking indifferent but feeling turmoil inside.

Khalif not finding Prima was expected because she had tipped off the family’s assassins to capture Prima first to use as leverage against Khalif. But the first wave sent had failed.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 171

The Wolves and Monkeys’ attention was also focused on these two places.

The continuous small-scale strikes had indeed disrupted many services, forcing the Wolves and Monkeys to temporarily recruit many lower-level family members to fill some particularly urgent gaps. However, the armed forces of White Bridge (which couldn’t be called an army without royal authorization) and the management of the two families didn’t involve any outsiders. Therefore, the security part didn’t face the same embarrassment as the service departments, but it wasn’t much better either.

As per routine, there were three teams taking turns guarding the perimeter of the central building to handle any emergencies. Additionally, there was a team that didn’t have to wear uniforms, blending in casually. Some were smoking under streetlights, some were flirting with waiters in cafes, and others, looking like vagrants, sat in groups of two or three against the wall, playing cards and whispering jokes.

“Sain and his team are really unlucky… Do you know what he complained to me about this morning? They made him wear tight pants! So tight he couldn’t even hide a sheepskin dagger!”

“No choice. They’re short-handed. But if the boss were here, no matter how shorthanded we were, they wouldn’t have involved us.”

“True. When have we ever done such menial work before? I’d rather go to battle than serve people.”

“So where did the boss go? Even Alexander is missing,” a man sitting against the wall said. The more he spoke, the more frustrated his tone became, and he threw his cards on the ground. “Then some outsider is giving orders with the authority ring, wanting us to guard around his bedroom to prevent someone from assassinating him while he’s with his mistress, hmph!”

“I think something’s wrong,” another man with a melancholic demeanor said. “The boss has disappeared without a word before, but Alexander has never done this.”

This time, even Alexander had disappeared. The subordinates all felt something was off—what’s even more unsettling was that the higher-ups had no reaction and just handed them over to Azman.

What a joke. They were the guardians of the Wolf family, not the private soldiers of any ruler. Even Louis had to live, eat, and train with the first batch of troops for several years to earn respect, despite his young age. Although they were superiors and subordinates, the bond of the first companions was ingrained in their spirits, something even the head of the family couldn’t change, let alone an old man who usually only cared about eating, drinking, and having fun.

“They should be fine,” the man who started the conversation said seriously. “Although some fools think…” Louis, Adan, and Cameron had been assassinated, though they scoffed at this idea.

“Think they were eaten by the Lions?” Another man snorted. “I think… huh?”

He maintained his casual posture against the wall and nudged his companion from under his trench coat. “Is that Alexander?!”

Though he asked with uncertainty, the young man entering their view was indeed Alexander, despite wearing vacation clothes completely different from his usual style and pulling his hat low to cover his face. From the lower half of his face and his walking posture, it was unmistakably Alexander.

Alexander didn’t realize his disguise couldn’t fool his acquaintances. He stood behind a lamppost, staring unblinkingly at the entrance of the venue—the entrance was already crowded with carriages, and elegantly dressed guests were entering one by one.

But he didn’t see Louis.

“Alexander?” A voice suddenly sounded behind him, startling Alexander. He turned his head so quickly that his neck made a creaking sound.

But he quickly recognized the person—a captain of the city defense team who occasionally reported directly to Louis, named…

“It’s you, Alvin,” Alexander muttered, rubbing his neck.

“What do you mean ‘it’s you’? What’s going on? Where’s the boss?” Alvin, the man who had been playing cards on the street, walked with him to a corner where they could still see the entrance, and asked urgently.

“I’m looking for him too,” Alexander said irritably. “Don’t pull on me. These clothes are new, and if I don’t find Mr. Louis, I’ll need them to get into the auction.”

Alvin didn’t let go. “What exactly happened? You all disappeared suddenly, and now Azman is ordering us around. Many brothers are being run ragged.”

“I know.” Alexander said helplessly, “Too many people are on strike. They had to find replacements.”

“So you’re skipping work to avoid being conscripted?” Alvin retorted. “You’ve always followed the boss. What happened before he disappeared? It can’t be for no reason—”

“I really don’t know,” Alexander said, frustrated.

Alvin stared at him suspiciously for a while, then suddenly let go. “Then why are you here?”

Alexander didn’t answer.

Louis didn’t tell him anything, but Alexander felt his disappearance was related to Khalif.

Without Louis, Alexander couldn’t meet Khalif alone, but tonight was the last session of the auction highly valued by both families, and the astrologer everyone was watching would be there. Khalif would definitely attend.

Alexander had a feeling Louis might show up too.

……

“Two more hours until the auction starts,” Prima said, looking at the fiery sunset outside the window.

Amber, holding Emerald, remained silent, fully focused on the wriggling, struggling creature. It had grown from the size of a bat to a small dog due to abundant food, albeit a fat little dog.

The Duke had even worried that its weight might affect its flying speed and seriously considered putting it on a diet.

But there was a benefit: a well-fed Emerald had much less desire for freedom and allowed the Duke and Amber, its food providers, to pet and hold it, though not for too long.

“What’s wrong with it?” Prima asked curiously. “Does it want to go out and play?”

“I don’t know.” Amber was afraid of squeezing Emerald too tightly and hurting it, but if he didn’t hold it firmly, it would break out of the window in agitation. It was the first time he had seen it like this.

At this moment, Erica came downstairs. Amber looked up for help. “Erica…”

“You two go upstairs.” Erica cut him off solemnly. “Now.”

Amber was stunned. He walked quickly to the window and looked out. The small garden was completely visible, and it was quiet, with no one in sight.

The boy pursed his lips, glanced at Prima, and led the way to the hallway, waiting for her.

Prima, a bit at a loss, instinctively got up to follow. She looked back and suddenly realized the house was unusually quiet.

It was as if someone had stolen the sound.

Seeing her following, Amber, holding Emerald, headed upstairs. The house had only two floors. He knew there must be uninvited guests—although they had moved in less than two hours ago, there were fixed guards in the garden and on the porch wherever Priscilla was, and none of them were in their places now.

They had just entered the hallway and hadn’t stepped on the stairs when they saw dark brown liquid seeping down from the wall at the end of the stairs, where it met the ceiling, emitting an ominous smell. Emerald began to struggle violently again.

A female mage ran out from the end, and seeing the changing wallpaper, she looked grim and placed a holly wreath at the stair entrance. A faint green light seeped from the wreath.

“Quickly, get the Lady out of this house,” she shouted to them. “Tell Erica the blessing spell wasn’t completed in time. The upstairs is contaminated!”

They had to go back the way they came. Finally, they saw some guards rushing past the living room, closing all the windows.

Erica was supporting Priscilla out of the bedroom. Priscilla had just fallen asleep and didn’t have time to change clothes, wearing only a robe, but her expression was calm.

“Upstairs—upstairs is contaminated,” Prima said, puzzled. “What’s going on?”

They had only moved here a few hours ago, and many belongings were still unpacked.

“Someone tried to break in.” Erica looked towards the door. “A mage.”

They had been careless. Most guest residences within White Bridge’s inner city didn’t have blessing spells. To keep a low profile, they had reduced their manpower, which turned into a flaw. But who had tracked them down so soon after they moved? For what purpose? Was the target Priscilla?

Whether or not, she couldn’t stay in danger.

Erica, supporting Priscilla, headed to the back door. A Brandenburg Knight left here by the Duke had quickly cleared the path for them, but this was only temporary. Since the opponent used magic, unless an anti-magic knight like Hasting was present, retreat was the safest option.

“You two get on the carriage too,” Erica said urgently to Amber and Prima.

Prima hesitated for a second, glancing from Erica’s stern face to Priscilla, then suddenly ran off without a word.

Erica: “??? Amber!”

What was wrong with this girl? Erica was both anxious and angry. “Bring her back. The opponent has many people, and we are short on mages.”

Though Priscilla was still the wife of the Duke of Mokwen, they didn’t dare keep too many of his people around her since Lestrop’s defeat and house arrest, fearing the remaining influence of Lestrop or the will of Tifa might harm Priscilla through these people. So, apart from the close maid from Lemena, Erica assigned by the Duke, a knight, and Amber, they only had two mages and a few guards arranged by Louis, without even mercenaries who were left at the previous house as a decoy.

Amber, still holding Emerald, chased after Prima. It wasn’t until Erica safely seated Priscilla in the carriage that they returned.

Erica didn’t use a coachman. She planned to drive herself, but Priscilla saw through her intentions and grabbed her arm.

“Wait for them,” she said.

Erica was anxious. “I’ll take you to a safe place first. Amber and Emerald will be fine. The knight will take care of Prima.”

Priscilla shook her head. Bad things always seemed to come in succession. She felt her stomach tightening in waves but didn’t mention it.

“We can’t leave them behind.” She tightened her grip on Erica’s arm and then quickly let go.

Erica was silent for a moment, then gently pulled her arm free.

“Sorry, Miss.” She still called Priscilla by her title from Brandenburg. “The Duke’s order is to prioritize your safety.”

Priscilla frowned and was about to speak when she saw Amber and Prima running from the back door through the half-open carriage door. The young lady might have never been so unladylike in her life, her face flushed with anxiety and exertion.

Before Erica could react, she shoved a somewhat messy bundle wrapped in bedsheets into the carriage.

“I-I packed some things,” she said, panting heavily as she climbed into the carriage. Amber silently followed.

“Scissors, painkillers, and cloth. Everything from the drawers is in there.” She sat on the bundle, seemingly exhausted. Amber placed Emerald inside, closed the carriage door with a bang, and sat in the front compartment pulling the reins, as if unaware of the noise of fighting in the house or the malicious whispers in the garden that had followed him and Prima.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 170

“Lord Khalif!” Azman had been waiting for a long time. As soon as he saw Khalif step out of the study, he hurried to greet him excitedly.

Khalif’s heavy demeanor lingered, making him appear a stark contrast to his spirited self from earlier that morning. Now, Azman’s overly high-pitched voice felt like it was making his ears ring.

No one understood the exhaustion from rapidly declining physical and mental energy better than Khalif, and no one loathed it more than he did.

That’s why he was so desperate—stimulants only provided temporary relief. The time magic researched by the Monkey family was also unstable. Different doors yielded different effects, but generally, they didn’t deviate from natural laws: the amount of energy put in relatively stabilized the effect of the time reversal. However, the current doors couldn’t be sustained for long. He could only briefly grasp time, then repeat the process of time slipping away from him.

Yesterday, he opened one such door. It maintained a short duration but had a high success rate and minimal side effects. Apart from feeling particularly fatigued afterward and needing time to recover, there was nothing to complain about.

At this moment, Khalif, who desperately needed to lie down, naturally had no friendly expression for the uninvited Azman. “Why are you here?”

“Cameron…”

“I know about Cameron,” Khalif said impatiently. “His assistant is also dead. I’ve sent five people to take over their work.”

Azman’s face turned pale. “I suspect this is a conspiracy!”

He spoke urgently, “First Adan, then Louis and Cameron. Lord Khalif, we need to take measures to stop this momentum.”

“Measures?” Khalif turned to look at him, a strange light flickering in his eyes. “Haven’t you already transferred most of the manpower here? What more do you want?”

Azman felt a chill in his heart, unsure if Khalif was displeased with his initiative, especially on the sensitive issue of manpower. But the authority had been delegated by Khalif himself. He had every right to do so.

“I am mainly concerned for your safety,” he said, toning down his anxiety and speaking with a slippery tone. “You’re the backbone of the family. We’re expendable as long as you’re safe.”

“With so many good hands surrounding us like an iron barrel, do you think those filthy slaves will charge the mansion with pickaxes?” Khalif’s dissatisfaction with Azman was clear, but he didn’t have time to deal with him. “If there are a few more fires, our business will be ruined by them. If any guests get hurt or other activities are affected, White Bridge will become a laughingstock on the continent.”

Azman hurried to clarify, “I haven’t reduced the security for the auction, but… the one who can assassinate several key figures in a short time is not an ordinary person.”

“The Wolf’s enemies have never been ordinary,” Khalif interrupted again. Although he didn’t like Louis, he had to admit that compared to someone like Azman, who only cared about his own safety and had no sense of the bigger picture, Louis was much more competent. Now that Azman was in charge, Khalif realized Azman was even more of a fool than he had shown before.

“Have the Monkeys monitor the Fox and Lion’s people. The old bag knows how to deal with them. If you’re afraid of dying,” Khalif looked down at Azman, who was a head shorter than him, with undisguised contempt, “then find a small boat and hide in Fortuna Harbor but leave your children behind. The Wolves need fresh blood, don’t they?”

Azman’s face turned deathly pale. Khalif didn’t look at him again and walked away.

The Wolves need fresh blood. This was a phrase often muttered by those dissatisfied with Khalif’s refusal to step down and his suppression of the younger generation. Although Azman had never said it himself due to his identity and position, being present in discussions where such things were said made little difference.

He had never expected that Khalif always knew!

Inside the study, Xanye had been eavesdropping on the conversation outside. She retracted her hand from the door.

Khalif didn’t spare any face for the remaining Elders, even at this critical moment. Xanye could almost conclude that he had obtained a key clue about the Holy Grail.

Unless he knew that the time reversal magic was nearly complete.

Xanye had always held back from Khalif on this matter. However, if the astrologer was omniscient, it wasn’t impossible for Khalif to get the truth from him. She had been experimenting with the magic in Khalif’s bedroom for as long as she had been with him. The initial attempts were indeed unstable because Khalif had no magical talent whatsoever. Performing the magic independently was very difficult unless a mage accompanied him—but Khalif refused to share the results with anyone. Moreover, Xanye, the magic designer, was still young. If she went back fifteen or twenty years with Khalif, she would turn into a child, which she absolutely didn’t want.

If magical talent was lacking, it had to be supplemented with soul thickness. This was Xanye’s calculated idea: extracting the life force of Khalif’s blood relatives to construct the “door”. Their souls would become part of the door’s space, greatly reducing the rejection of Khalif, the intruder. To support this idea, Khalif personally snapped the necks of two of his sons and tampered with a daughter’s carriage, causing her to die on an otherwise smooth road.

Khalif had never married. Besides a banished son and two married daughters, only Prima remained by his side. Only Xanye knew that this young lady wasn’t a cherished jewel but a carefully maintained human-shaped fuel.

Xanye didn’t sympathize with any of them, whether the previous victims of the door or Prima. However, she did feel a bit sorry for Louis. Compared to the old man, she preferred young people with lush hair, slender waists, and long legs.

Too bad Louis wasn’t nice to anyone. If he had smiled more, she might have delayed telling Khalif about his whereabouts by a few minutes.

Xanye lit several rows of candles, surrounding herself. On the floor lay a crystal slab the size of a hardcover book. She carefully wiped it with breast milk and rose oil, then sprinkled expensive fine salt over the mirror surface to break the anti-tracking magic items on the target’s body.

“…The blazing sun, freezing moon—I am a faithful follower of the Seven Gods. Please respond to my humble call and descend upon my fingertips… His name is Louis.”

Xanye closed her eyes and finished the incantation. The smoke from the burning sage didn’t dissipate over time. Instead, it grew thicker, enveloping her completely. It seemed there were many tiny lightning bolts in the smoke, causing Xanye’s body to twitch slightly. Her hand on the crystal slab began to tremble. After a few minutes, Xanye opened her eyes and saw the salt on the crystal slab had drawn coordinates as usual. However, unlike usual, it didn’t pinpoint a location but circled two completely different areas before stopping at a place in the inner city.

Was this a success or a failure?

If the target had strong anti-tracking magic, it could indeed confuse the result. But this was the first time she had seen it circle two areas simultaneously. Xanye frowned, moved to another room, and performed the ritual again, this time for Prima. The result showed she was still in the inner city, but the range could only be narrowed down to one block.

She was also in some magically protected area, possibly a building with a blessing artifact. The Wolf and Monkey didn’t oppose visitors setting up their own protections, despite discarding them during the inner city’s construction for ease of surveillance.

This result indicated her magic ritual wasn’t wrong. Louis had probably noticed something (after all, he and Khalif had been wary of each other for a long time), and Xanye pondered for a moment before calling the maids in the corridor. The well-trained girls silently entered the room to clean up the ritual items. During this interval, Xanye quickly went to the end of the second-floor corridor to the large terrace, pretending to get some fresh air. Seeing no one around, she threw something into the tulip bushes below.

After a while, she saw a gardener with a sun hat approaching. Confirming he knew where the item was, Xanye picked up her skirt and turned away.

……

A man pushed open the door to a small building. Inside, it was dark, and the air smelled musty.

“They’re upstairs,” said the old man behind the counter, glancing at him.

The man nodded and quickly ran upstairs. There, several partitions formed a large room temporarily used as a command center.

“They’ve withdrawn most of their forces,” the man said eagerly upon entering. “Only about twenty people remain, scattered.”

“Withdrawn?” Shiloh and Hasting exchanged puzzled glances.

“Are they so confident we won’t enter the inner city?” Shiloh asked. “Who gave them that illusion?”

“The final auction is at eight tonight,” Hasting said to the man who had just entered. “Their focus will be there.”

“Then storm the venue and kill them all! Just like they did to Jason!” one of the other men in the room said angrily.

“It’s best not to confront them head-on,” Hasting said calmly. “White Bridge has a well-trained armed force. They are disciplined, and we can’t even equip each person with a weapon.”

“So what do we do?”

“Side provocations, dispersed operations,” Shiloh said, looking excited. “He’s a pessimist—don’t be too tense. The more disciplined the troops, the more they need correct command to be effective. Reliable information suggests their commander has fled, replaced by a fool.”

“All we need is determination, courage, and a reliable plan,” Shiloh said. “If you trust us.”

“You saved Jason,” the man who had just entered said solemnly. “We can tell the difference between good and bad people.”

“And even without you, we’ve had enough of this crap,” others chimed in. “We work hard, yet the inner city people treat us like animals, but we’re the true masters of White Bridge. They are the invaders!”

“We should have taken back our dignity long ago,” said an older man crouching in the corner, stroking the scar on his leg from being scalded by something thrown from a Monkey Family’s carriage years ago.

Hasting picked up a piece of wood and drew a simple symbol on the wall with its charred end.

“Our companions have prepared hiding spots throughout the inner city. This is the mark,” he said. “Places with this symbol are safe. Remember: tonight’s auction will have concentrated armed forces. We are only to create chaos. The real battleground…”

He glanced out the window before calmly saying, “Is at the docks and residential areas you’re most familiar with.”

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 169

“Jim?” Charlie scrutinized his face, unsure if the world was really that small, letting him run into “that” Jim.

From his face alone, this young man with a small nose and mouth and eyes widened in fright looked more like a rabbit than him. It was hard to connect him with the muscular and well-built Jason.

“Are you Jim from Paradise Island?” Charlie asked again.

Jim hesitated before responding, “I’m from Paradise Island.”

“Are you Jason’s brother, Jim?”

“You know my brother?!” Jim seemed jolted awake, almost pouncing on Charlie, grabbing his neck, and demanding he repeat himself.

It really was Jason’s brother.

Charlie reached out to hold Jim’s shoulder, preventing him from jumping up, and lowered his voice. “Shh—these carriages are well soundproofed, but if you make too much noise and shake the carriage, it will attract attention.”

Jim held his breath and nodded.

“I know Jason. He’s been looking for you,” Charlie said, feeling a bit guilty. Although no one could have predicted what would happen, the honest and loyal man did get into trouble while helping them. Charlie hadn’t yet discussed this with Eugene, but he believed Eugene, who had spent more time with Jason, felt no less guilty than he did.

“Do you know what happened to him?” Jim tried to keep himself from getting too emotional, but his voice, strained with extreme repression, became high-pitched and thin. “Is he… Is he in trouble?”

“He had an accident and was seriously injured. We are trying to treat him…”

“Injured? He’s not dead?” Jim finally couldn’t hold back, grabbing Charlie’s short coat. “He’s not dead, right? The rumors outside are false!”

Charlie didn’t push him away but leaned closer, using his usual calming tone. “He’s not dead. He’s seriously injured… but we managed to keep him alive. The next few days are still dangerous, but for now, he’s alive.”

Jim’s hands trembled, but a huge wave of joy swept through him. His brother was still alive!

“Where is he now?” he asked urgently. “He’s alive—you said you saved him.”

He let go and repeated Charlie’s words. “You saved Jason. Are you his friend?”

Charlie was a bit surprised. Jim’s appearance seemed too gentle and fragile. Although he had no prejudice against such people, he secretly hoped the kid wouldn’t emotionally collapse from excitement.

But not only did he quickly digest the intense news, he also regained his composure quickly, not missing the information Charlie had lightly mentioned.

In terms of strong will, the two brothers were indeed similar. Stepping back further, Jim, like Prima, Prima’s friends, and even Priscilla, had courage that belied their appearances. Interestingly, leaving aside the well-off Priscilla, people like Jim and Prima were often overlooked in White Bridge. Regardless of their comfortable or struggling lives, their “existence” was rarely valued.

“The elven fruit can keep your brother alive, but it cannot restore him fully,” Charlie explained, briefly recounting the events leading to Jason’s accident. “He’s on Paradise Island now, with many people taking care of him.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Jim said, his voice trembling.

Charlie shook his head. At that moment, the carriage shook slightly, as if turning a corner. Both of them looked up warily, and Jim quickly calculated the route in his mind.

“What do you plan to do next? Will you go back? Jason has been worried about you,” Charlie asked.

Of course, he wanted to go back and take care of Jason, Jim almost blurted out. But then he stopped himself, looking directly at Charlie’s strange rabbit head for the first time without avoiding his gaze.

“You’re hiding in this carriage, saying you want to meet the astrologer,” he said. “Is that true?”

Charlie replied, “Yes, I want to make sure Kurt is safe.”

He looked at the still-excited Jim. “If possible, I want to rescue him. White Bridge has no right to imprison anyone, including the astrologer.”

Just as he thought, Jim realized this Mr. Rabbit was a friend of Mr. Kurt.

“Suppose… I mean, if I could meet Mr. Kurt in person, would that help you?” he asked cautiously. Jim didn’t make empty promises. In his heart, he believed everything the nearly rabbit-headed stranger said. If they saved Jason, he would repay them with his life—but he couldn’t risk Mr. Kurt’s safety with such a promise.

Fortunately, Charlie was very understanding. He immediately saw through Jim’s greatest concern.

“You can mention my name in front of him. I’m Charlie. After confirming it, give him my token. I have a small magical item that can establish a communication channel.”

“But unregistered magical items cannot enter the warehouse,” Jim said instinctively, then looked at Charlie uneasily.

He was used to observing his surroundings, but many places in the Wolf household were confidential and off-limits to prying eyes, especially for someone “like him.” So, he always observed in secret but never mentioned it to anyone.

Charlie indeed paused but didn’t comment further. His large, round eyes turned, his gaze falling on Jim’s robe.

“Registered items are not restricted, right? They can come and go freely,” he said confidently, touching the smooth, oil-painted interior wall of the carriage. Even if Jim was just a stand-in, his specifications matched those of the astrologer. The carriage had comprehensive protective measures. Charlie saw several different magical waves flowing and mingling in the small space.

“I have a way,” he said.

……

“What did you say?” Khalif glared at Xanye, looking like a beast ready to pounce. Xanye felt a jolt of fear but kept her face calm.

“Your daughter went out this morning, didn’t return, and didn’t take any attendants.”

“And you’re only telling me now.” Khalif’s voice was low, barely concealing his anger. The strike wave had swept through most of the inner city. Even temporarily redeploying available personnel to fill the gaps caused by the strike barely maintained a few key guest areas.

Some less well-off people were quick to take up the roles, but many who loafed around under the names of two families were far less competent than the usually well-trained lower-level workers. Their limited vision and brains couldn’t comprehend that if White Bridge’s reputation collapsed, their lives might plummet.

“She’s not a child anymore. Going out for a few hours is normal…”

“You know what it’s like outside!” Khalif shouted. “She shouldn’t be out at a time like this! Do you know how many children I have left—”

He stopped, even though there was no one else in the study. He became wary and fell silent.

“She’ll be fine. She’s probably just visiting her girlfriends. Where else could she go?” Xanye lowered her posture and spoke softly. “I know she’s important. If you want, we can start trying anytime.”

“Find her first.” Khalif paced on the carpet. “I remember you have a spell for finding people.”

Xanye’s heart settled. She calmly said, “Of course, she’s your child. Blood is the clearest marker.”

“No, I’m not looking for Prima.” Khalif stopped. The stimulant’s effect was wearing off. He looked a bit withered, making the gleam in his eyes appear more harmonious. “Can you find Louis?”

Xanye was surprised. “Louis? I thought you wouldn’t care if he was attacked. Is the Paradise Island rebellion real? Do you need him to quell the unrest?”

Khalif waved his hand, breathing heavily. “Paradise Island… who cares about that? If I succeed, what does it matter if we lose White Bridge?”

Xanye knew Khalif’s ambitions but didn’t know what he had discussed with the astrologer in their two private meetings. However, she was quick-witted, and seeing Khalif’s reaction now, she quickly concluded he must have obtained some crucial information.

If it were time-reversal magic, Khalif wouldn’t hide it, because that magic always needed her to push it. There was only one possibility left: the Holy Grail.

And it wasn’t the new Holy Grail, but the previous one—otherwise, he’d have to wait at least ten years for a newborn to grow up. Khalif wouldn’t show such disdain for White Bridge, the family’s lifeblood, if he didn’t have a good reason.

The previous Holy Grail was still alive? Xanye’s heartbeat quickened. She asked calmly, “If you don’t care about White Bridge, why find Louis? You’re the head of the Wolf Family. Even if he’s not here, the power is still yours.”

“Just tell me if you can find him,” Khalif said impatiently.

He wouldn’t share all his secrets with anyone. In some ways, Xanye was his partner, but only for time magic. Regarding the Holy Grail, he’d rather keep it to himself.

Many thought he was getting senile with age, but Khalif remembered a lot, including how White Wolf Fahim and the Lamp Bearers appeared in that small town around the same time.

Suspicion had been planted over twenty years ago. The legend of the Holy Grail wasn’t a secret within the family. Khalif had always viewed Fahim as a hypothetical enemy, not just because of his abilities but also out of jealousy. Even after his death, people whispered about what a pity it was that Fahim died young. Those comments were like thorns in the family head’s seat, making Khalif uncomfortable.

Back then, he suspected Fahim wanted to use the power of the World Dragon to extend his life. He also tracked the Lamp Bearers, trying to control the Holy Grail. But at that time, Khalif’s foundation was weak, and Fahim left no concrete evidence, so the matter was dropped.

Who knew Fahim would later bring a boy into White Bridge, claiming he was his nephew, and poured all his resources and assets into the boy—Khalif’s suspicion and wariness toward Fahim transferred to the boy after Fahim’s death.

He never trusted Louis. His dealings with the astrologer confirmed his suspicions: he took the family’s eligible youth list Louis submitted to Kurt, and none were the Holy Grail.

But the Holy Grail still existed in the world.

He entrusted this task solely to Louis. After Louis brushed it off and disappeared, Khalif thought Louis was either Fahim’s successor, planning to seize the Holy Grail and become king, or his age was fake, and Louis was the Holy Grail Fahim brought from the small town.

Confirming the Holy Grail was easier than locating it. The bloodshed and childbirth would attract the Lamp Bearer if the scent was strong enough. Louis, cunning like Fahim, likely noticed Khalif’s suspicions and disappeared.

But where could he hide?

Xanye met Khalif’s gaze, her mind racing. She said, “Using an item Louis frequently uses as a medium, I can determine the approximate range. Not as precise as for Prima.”

“A range is enough,” Khalif said sternly. “Find Louis first, then Prima.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 168

It had been a long time since there had been a violent murder case in the inner city. To be precise, since Louis took full responsibility for security, there had not been a case involving the deaths of more than two people.

The reputation of White Bridge as a “no-go zone” was largely due to its defensible terrain and the ancient protective blessings it retained. Internal brawls and executions weren’t subject to this restriction. Louis, inheriting Fahim’s cold and iron-fisted methods, had suppressed internal family disputes with extremely severe punishments. In such an environment, even Khalif, without a valid reason, would be impeached for stripping multiple people of their lives under the guise of the family head.

This certainly placed some restrictions on the privileged class. However, in contrast, the sense of security within the inner city greatly increased. Some daring young ladies even ventured out with only one or two maids, wandering the brightly lit streets until eight at night.

So, when Azman heard the news of Cameron’s death on the street, a suffocating fear quickly enveloped him from head to toe: first Adan, then Louis, and now Cameron—if anyone dared to tell him this was an accident, he would jump up and slap them hard!

This was clearly a conspiracy against the Wolf family Elders. Look at what happened to poor Cameron! Three guards, one assistant, and a coachman all died at the end of Frelaf Street. The carriage was destroyed, and the blood of the five men flowed through the cracks in the pavement into the alley next to Frelaf Street. The area was a tall building mainly rented out to various companies for office use. The crime scene was at the back door of the building on the shaded side, a place usually only passed by the administrator and employees sneaking a smoke. This undoubtedly increased the difficulty of solving the case.

A squad under Louis arrived at the scene as quickly as possible and collected the bodies, but they found no witnesses. Logically, five grown men, three of whom were well-trained guards, shouldn’t have been silently killed on a street in broad daylight, even in a relatively secluded location.

A high-level mage could do it, Azman thought. Only magic and curses could kill so many people so quickly. But the violently damaged carriage made this reasoning contradictory—solving crimes wasn’t his forte. The Elder good at it was missing, and although Azman didn’t like Louis, he certainly didn’t wish for him to end up dead in some unknown ditch.

Because Khalif clearly didn’t care about the Elders’ lives. Earlier, when Adan and Louis disappeared, he showed not a hint of regret or sorrow. His first reaction was to coldly distribute their powers and duties to those still alive.

Louis and Adan were the youngest Elders, exceptionally capable and promising. Losing such people couldn’t make Khalif emotional. At this point, Azman found it hard to deceive himself into thinking that the remaining Elders would be any different in Khalif’s mind.

Human psychology was strange and selfish. When Khalif treated others with such coldness, Azman secretly rejoiced. But when Cameron, an Elder of similar seniority and a close acquaintance, met with misfortune, the fear and panic of losing a companion made him unable to stand.

“Where’s Arthur?” he managed to ask, trying to steady himself. “Where did Arthur go?”

“Mr. Arthur went to Paradise Island. Mr. Cameron asked him to handle communications between the two sides…”

“Increase security—no, get him back first.” Azman was like an ant on a hot pan. “Elders shouldn’t act alone at a time like this.”

He muttered to himself, “Yes, don’t act alone. Bring all of Louis’s men here to protect us… and Lord Khalif.”

Azman had the family heirloom that temporarily granted him the authority to act. With Louis absent, most of the armed forces in the inner city were effectively under his control. This realization made him feel a bit more secure. The shadow of Cameron’s daylight assassination loomed large, and in his panic, he didn’t think through the deeper implications of these incidents. He only instinctively tried to protect himself in every way possible.

In this situation, Azman overlooked many things, such as sealing off the news to prevent panic, strengthening guest security to prevent further incidents, and investing energy in tracking down the killer… He did none of these necessary tasks.

Therefore, the news that “an elder of the Wolf Family was stabbed to death in broad daylight inside his carriage” spread faster and wider than the most notorious gossip about the city’s courtesans, inevitably embellished several times over. The most accepted version among the public was that “someone had awakened an ancient, dormant demon in the inner city. Unable to find sustenance, it roamed aimlessly, killing people at random. Several recent murders were actually the demon’s doing.”

“What kind of demon kills in broad daylight?” a coachman whispered to his companion. “Werewolves under the moon, vampires at night, witches on cloudy days… Which of these evil things doesn’t shy away from the sun? I don’t believe it.”

“Do we have to discuss this? It gives me the creeps… If it weren’t for the damned strike, I wouldn’t have to be a coachman. Damn it. If my wife knew I became a coachman, she’d demand to go back to her mother’s house.”

“Who doesn’t feel that way?” The other coachman sighed. They might not be rich or hold the Wolf name, but they were genuinely born and raised in the inner city, fundamentally different from the people of Paradise Island. Even if they lived frugally, less wealthy than some of the Paradise Island workers in the inner city, they considered themselves spiritually and socially superior, ashamed to be associated with those “inferiors”.

“Stop complaining… Are they coming out?” His companion glanced around. Perking up, he jumped off the step and quickly returned to his carriage, shushing the napping coachman behind him, signaling that it was time to work—they were to escort someone important and had been sternly warned not to make any mistakes.

They reacted quickly. Several armed men escorted a hooded figure from the passageway, moving straight to the carriage without pause, then shoved the central figure into the vehicle.

The coachman took a second look. Wasn’t this supposed to be a big shot? That shove seemed a bit rough—was he seeing things?

“Stop gawking!” The lead armed man noticed the gaze and barked, startling the coachman into looking away.

But he hadn’t seen wrong. The shove was indeed rough. Jim, pushed into the carriage, almost fell to the floor, and though he managed to adjust his posture, his knee hit the floor hard.

It didn’t hurt much.

Jim, in a daze, shut the door and sat on the floor, lost in thought.

He had been in a daze for a while since a senior told him that his brother Jason had been beaten to death.

The man liked gossip and had detailed the events to Jim. If it hadn’t been time for his shift to watch the venue, he might have gone on to predict the critical time of the impending conflict between Paradise Island and the inner city.

Jim was first shocked, then enraged (thinking it was a baseless rumor), but as he listened, he became increasingly despondent. Having worked in the inner city for years, he knew the inner city folk were capable of such senseless cruelty, especially towards those from Paradise.

Professionalism kept him from breaking down immediately, but he couldn’t sustain his rationality. He followed commands like a puppet, doing as instructed—until his knee hit the floor, snapping him out of his stupor. He couldn’t distinguish between illusion and reality, unsure if today’s events were real or a dream.

If not a dream, how could the strong Jason have been beaten to death? Jim’s hands and feet were ice-cold. He curled into a ball, staring blankly ahead.

If it wasn’t a dream, then why was there a rabbit in the carriage?

???

A rabbit?

He blinked blankly, watching as the carriage bench was lifted from below. From the storage space emerged a rabbit… head.

“Good thing you didn’t sit down, or I’d have had to toss you off. Could you give me a hand—huh?” Struggling out of the cramped space, Charlie leaned over and met Jim’s eyes. They stared at each other in silence.

“Who are you?” Charlie asked.

Jim: …That question shouldn’t come from an intruder.

“I heard this carriage was supposed to carry the astrologer,” Charlie continued, pulling himself out. Tall and long-legged, he had suffered stuffing himself in there for so long.

“Are you an assassin?” Jim asked sluggishly, oddly unafraid.

If today was his last, he wouldn’t complain. His family was gone. Helping the kind Mr. Kurt once more before dying didn’t seem bad.

“Uh… no,” Charlie replied. “I’m just a big fan wanting to meet him.”

Charlie noticed the young man on the floor seemed off. He squatted to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Jim’s eyes followed his movements.

“I’m not the astrologer,” Jim said. “You won’t meet him. I’m just a stand-in, here to check tonight’s venue.”

No wonder he was dressed like that, Charlie thought.

The kid wore a robe but had no magical aura. The outfit was contradictory. If he was a stand-in, it made sense—far enough from the stage, with the right lighting, it could work temporarily. But up close, it was clear he wasn’t the real thing.

Unless the Wolf Family intended no close encounters with the astrologer.

This wasn’t a good sign. Had Khalif killed Kurt? Hence needing a stand-in?

But Kurt was a living astrologer. Such a rare being, even a corpse or relic, held value. Though Louis thought Khalif was crazy, Charlie didn’t think he’d lost his mind that much.

More likely, Khalif had seen Kurt’s power and changed his mind. That made sense—anyone with ambitions would be moved by an all-knowing astrologer.

Charlie thought for a moment. “What’s your name?”

Jim’s lips moved. He didn’t understand why this stranger cared about his name, but long-ingrained obedience made it hard to refuse a firm tone.

“Jim, my name is Jim,” he weakly replied.

---

The author has something to say:

Charlie takes on human form when working.

Transforms once on the carriage, with Dwight assisting.

Surprise, he’s furry again.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 167

At the very center of White Bridge stood a distinctive building with a plaza at the front large enough to accommodate thirty carriages at once. The entire building was four stories high, with six huge pillars flanking the main entrance, intricately decorated with holly and sun motifs. Three grand doors stretched up to the top of the façade, and from the street, one could see the brilliantly polished, colorful tiles inside.

This venue, which typically functioned as a hall, meeting room, and trading center, transformed into the main auction hall during auction events. The most hyped and significant auctions were held here.

Charlie, with his back hunched, carried three wooden stools at once, hustling back and forth under the sun like a busy worker ant. Due to time constraints, even the supervising foreman, who usually stood with hands on hips in the shade, joined in to carry lighter items such as tablecloths and numbered paddles.

This was due to a manpower shortage.

After sunrise, a wave of strikes swept through the inner city. Mrs. Morris’s firing of servants (and injuring several) had exacerbated the situation. The arsonists responsible for several warehouse fires had somehow escaped the dragnet and spread explosive news:

Jason never entered the inner city for work!

He was just passing through!

He had no prior interaction with the Morris family! He had nothing to do with the arson!

Eyewitnesses claimed that the Morris family was venting their anger, first beating Jason to death for merely passing by, then extending their rage to all Paradise Island residents. They incited others to fire these hard working people and even used private justice, resulting in more deaths.

These testimonies spread like wildfire, causing an instant explosion of unrest. The inner city found itself divided, and within Paradise Island, rumors ran rampant. Many people quit their jobs outright, while others plotted strikes with their fellow townsmen. This left the Wolf and Monkey in a precarious position. “Trustworthy” workers were reassigned to more critical tasks, creating significant gaps in other peripheral jobs. Charlie seized this opportunity to infiltrate and work as a laborer.

Since becoming Rabbit Head, he rarely had to disguise himself, so he was out of practice. The wig and skin-darkening potion made him sweat to the point of dizziness. Unlike Jason, who was used to heavy lifting at the docks, Charlie found the physical exertion overwhelming. Taking advantage of the foreman’s distraction, he slipped into the corner shadows for a break and discovered he wasn’t the only one with that idea.

A man occupying the best hiding spot glanced up at him, then shifted over to make some room.

Charlie didn’t squat down but leaned against the wall, reaching into his pocket. Unfortunately, his rough work robe had no long pipe, only a crumpled cigarette.

The man kept staring at his hand. Charlie smiled and broke off half the cigarette for him.

“Thanks, brother.” The man eagerly accepted it, looking much friendlier. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Just got here,” Charlie said, holding the cigarette but not lighting it. “They said they needed people.”

“Everywhere needs people,” the man scoffed, but carefully pocketed the half-cigarette instead of lighting it.

“Things are a mess now—honestly, if my wife wasn’t pregnant, I’d have gone back home last night. No more serving these bloodsuckers.”

Charlie said nothing, glancing outside. The slightly pot-bellied foreman was still running around.

“Don’t worry. Everyone here is one of us. He wouldn’t dare try anything—he’s afraid we’ll gang up on him. Ha! They’re finally getting a taste of their own medicine!”

“Some folks have done just that,” Charlie said. “There was a big incident on Third Street this morning—about thirty people got involved. It was a huge deal.”

“That’s nothing,” the man sneered, lowering his voice. “Those are small skirmishes. If you go back now, you’ll see the real deal. I’ve heard even the defenses are up. I’m telling you. A fight could break out any minute.”

There was no fear in his voice, only regret, as if he wished he could join in.

Charlie straightened up, satisfied with the brief respite, and put the unlit cigarette back in his pocket.

“If a fight does break out, what should we do?” he asked quietly. “The Morris family sees all Paradise Island people as enemies. If… we’re still in the inner city, we won’t escape.”

The man straightened up instinctively, ready to say something, but Charlie saw what he had been waiting for and waved him off.

Three silver-edged blue carriages approached in a line, escorted by a team of guards. All wore serious expressions. Instead of stopping at the main entrance, they bypassed it and headed for another passage, the one used for staff.

The auction was set to start in the evening, so they hadn’t taken the longer detour. Charlie compared the scene to Louis’s internal information: two mages, eight armed guards, and four attendants—indeed, the highest security for a “single-item auction”.

The highest value item for this auction was undoubtedly the astrologer.

Charlie avoided the foreman, crossed the plaza, and his hair gradually changed from inconspicuous reddish-brown to an even less noticeable dark brown.

……

“I said there’s no time to deal with this,” Cameron snapped, turning around to glare at the person behind him. “Does it have to be now?”

“Miss Cynthia and the Lady have been crying all morning. Young Master Adam rode off without any attendants. The two married ladies have also returned, and they’re all waiting for you.” The messenger felt equally troubled, caught between equally demanding masters.

“I’m busy with the auction!” Cameron shouted. “If they can’t help, fine, but can’t they be reasonable? I don’t care if the lace shop staff didn’t show up, if the swans and wine for tonight’s banquet haven’t arrived, or if no new musicians are found. Just cancel it all if there’s nothing!”

For the first time, he sympathized with Adan. Being bombarded with trivial issues while swamped with important work was maddening. How did Adan manage to stay composed?

The servant, entrusted with the entire household’s woes, was scolded thoroughly and returned with no solutions, anticipating a storm when he reported back. He felt a deep sense of despair, almost wishing he could be one of the Paradise Island people who boldly threw off their uniforms today. Unfortunately, his family had served Mr. Cameron’s family for generations, marking him as an “inner city person” through and through.

Dejected, the servant left empty-handed. Cameron, ignoring him, took his entourage and assistant and headed out, only to find just one carriage waiting.

“What’s going on?” the assistant asked. “Mr. Cameron always uses two carriages—”

“For some reason, several axles broke. And many stable hands are missing, so there’s not enough staff for repairs,” the coachman explained, looking terrified.

The assistant hesitated. Cameron waved it off. “One carriage will do. I can’t wait.”

“But this means fewer guards,” the assistant insisted. One less carriage meant four fewer protectors.

“It’s fine,” Cameron said wearily. “Tell them to bring Adam back home. He shouldn’t be wandering around now.” The streets were full of striking or dismissed lower-class workers, and Adam, who liked to dress ostentatiously, was a prime target.

The assistant, though uneasy, knew this wasn’t the time to argue. He helped Cameron into the carriage, where two guards accompanied them, while another rode up front with the coachman.

“Young Master Adam might have gone hunting in the woods,” the assistant reassured, knowing Cameron’s main worry was his flamboyant son. “There are usually no idlers there.”

“I should have warned them last night,” Cameron muttered, having not pulled an all-nighter in a while, looking more haggard than Khalif despite being younger. “But it’s good that Meg and the others are back. They should stay home with their mother and sister, and the staff should be trustworthy, even if fewer.”

The assistant nodded, a distant relative who was currently the most trusted, knowing his future was bright as long as Cameron was in power, making him all the more devoted.

“Those lowly scum think they can hold us hostage like this,” he said. “If it weren’t for the sudden trouble, couldn’t we find some carriage repairmen in White Bridge?”

Being at the heart of the Wolf’s management, he had more information than most. The attacks on Adan, followed by Louis’s disappearance, had taken out two of the five Elders, making him particularly concerned for Cameron’s safety and still upset about the reduced guards.

Cameron shook his head, closing his eyes to rest.

The assistant fell silent, hoping that Cameron could rest for a while during the journey. But things rarely go as planned. The carriage had only been moving smoothly for a short time when it suddenly made a loud “thud” sound, as if something heavy had fallen onto the roof, causing the entire carriage to shake dangerously.

The assistant was nearly thrown from his seat by the jolt, instinctively grabbing onto Cameron and shouting, “What happened?”

The two guards in the carriage reacted quickly. They exchanged glances, one staying behind while the other swiftly pushed the door open and leapt out, then immediately closed the door behind him.

The remaining three held their breath, trying to listen for any sounds from outside. However, Cameron’s carriage was well-made—waterproof, fireproof, and soundproof. In the ensuing silence, they could only hear each other’s slightly tense breathing.

Could they really be under attack? The assistant’s heart sank, but he turned to Cameron and said, “Sir, please don’t worry. Our carriage doors and windows are protected by anti-destruction magic. No one can…”

Before he could finish his sentence, a blinding light suddenly flooded the carriage, and they all looked up in disbelief. Half of the carriage roof had been pried open, allowing sunlight to pour in. A figure stood on the roof, silhouetted against the light, with a longsword resting on her shoulder.

Cameron could clearly hear a light laugh, as if the person had been amused by their stunned expressions.

It was a woman.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 166

At first, the warehouse fire seemed like a small rash on the back of one’s hand—itchy but insignificant. However, after just one night, the rash had spread over the entire arm, becoming both painful and itchy, impossible to ignore.

Khalif stared at Cameron with a grim expression.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

Cameron felt a chill down his spine. He hesitated before speaking again, steeling himself. “Adan’s parents reacted strongly to the conflict between a few young men and Paradise Island, dismissing many servants and demanding a meeting with you to ensure the family handles this matter properly.”

In front of Khalif, Cameron tried to downplay the situation, but in reality, Adan’s family had taken several outrageous steps, even openly demanding the head of the family punish Paradise Island. This news spread rapidly among the lower servants, causing multiple physical altercations within hours.

What was worse, Louis seemed resentful about being excluded from the auction management circle and had decided to take a cold stance on the issue. When Cameron sent someone to ask Louis to quell the situation, he found out Louis had simply skipped work, leaving no assistant behind.

Cameron involuntarily glanced around Khalif’s desk, assessing if anything there could be used as a weapon. As Khalif’s fingers twitched, he instinctively stepped back.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Cameron felt a wave of relief, noticing Khalif’s expression changing multiple times before he finally squeezed out a word through gritted teeth. “Come in.”

It was Azman, whom Khalif had tasked with handling all the guests. Normally responsible for White Bridge’s entertainment and leisure, he managed his duties smoothly. Today, however, his face was clouded with worry, and his usually well-groomed mustache drooped. Seeing Azman’s pallor, Khalif knew something was wrong.

“Lord Khalif,” Azman didn’t approach as he usually did. Instead, he shrank back, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

“Two gambling halls and several hotels experienced strikes this morning. Guests are affected, and complaints are flooding my office like snowflakes,” he said in one breath. “Today’s two auction venues were closed last night and remain unaffected, but if this continues, tonight’s final auction might also be affected—”

Khalif sprang to his feet, cutting Azman off mid-sentence.

This wasn’t just about the auction. White Bridge was the most decadent city on the continent of Doran, offering endless pleasures to those with money—pleasures made possible by the cheap labor from Paradise Island. Despite their immense workload and meager pay, the islanders had never seemed to complain, and both the Wolf and Monkey Families enjoyed the benefits of this labor disparity.

“Have Louis detain the ringleaders,” Khalif said coldly. “Raise the pay to stabilize the strikers. No chaos before the auction ends.”

Azman wanted to ask if the ringleaders referred to the Morris couple or the strike agitators, but there was a more pressing issue at hand.

“Louis is missing,” he said weakly. “When the trouble started on Paradise Island, they were looking for him, but—” No one knew where Louis was. His carriage could be tracked, but only he had the tracking permissions. Although Azman was an Elder, Louis’s subordinates wouldn’t listen to him.

Khalif outranked Louis, but with the chain reaction of strikes like a tidal wave, he couldn’t handle everything personally. Azman had expected Khalif to explode in rage, but instead, he looked oddly amused upon hearing the news.

“Louis is missing?” Khalif repeated, his tone strange, even smiling insincerely at Azman and Cameron’s puzzled looks.

“Have Arthur handle the strikes,” Khalif said, quickly regaining his composure. “Get them back to work—raise the pay if needed. Cameron, you know my limits.”

He roughly pulled off a ring and threw it to Azman. “I’m giving you authority. Ensure everything is peaceful until midnight tomorrow.”

Azman was stunned by this sudden empowerment. It was unlike Khalif’s usual behavior. Without further explanation, they watched Khalif leave the office like a whirlwind.

……

Jim stood anxiously as the tailor marked the last alteration, then removed the expensive fabric from his body.

He was now wearing a white cotton shirt from Laporte Island. It wasn’t luxurious, but the style was trendy—soft like sleepwear, giving a somewhat artistic vibe, unlike the classic stiff-collared shirts.

“Your hair needs a bit more trimming,” a sharp-tongued woman criticized, examining Jim. “The clothes are fine, but your hair is too messy.”

This remark forced Jim to endure more sticky hair gel, the pungent scent making him want to sneeze, but he held it back.

Jim had worn fine clothes before. When he was favored, the young master gave him many silk trousers and shirts. However, when he was driven out, he didn’t take any with him. For one, he probably wouldn’t have been allowed to, and wearing such conspicuous clothes among servants could cause trouble.

Those experiences made him less uneasy about wearing good clothes again, but what made him anxious was the reason behind it.

“If you’re angry with me, it’s understandable,” Jim apologized to Kurt. “I don’t know how to express my apologies for having to impersonate you.”

Kurt was curious. “What kind of person are you?”

Jim: “A poor man from Paradise Island.” He had been in the inner city long enough to hear various derogatory terms, but he knew Kurt wouldn’t say such things. The man, forced into captivity, had a surprisingly good temper, making it easy for Jim to apologize.

Kurt was somewhat familiar with the relationship between Paradise Island and the inner city. Jim, allowed to chat within limits, had mentioned his origins.

“Firstly, this isn’t your choice,” Kurt said. “Secondly, I’m not some holy leader. If I could choose, I wouldn’t want to be an astrologer. This identity wouldn’t offend me, so you don’t need to apologize.”

Kurt hadn’t anticipated that Jim’s role in serving him had this use. Although their appearances differed, their builds were similar. This attentive young man, accustomed to observing various “important people”, was prepared to play the astrologer at the auction.

If he had any doubts before, Kurt was now certain that Khalif didn’t intend to sell him. Not because of any kindness, but because he realized Kurt’s value was far greater.

“I need to inspect the venue this afternoon. Someone else will bring your tea,” Jim whispered, kneeling by the sofa. “If… I get sold, someone else will take care of you.”

Kurt patted Jim’s shoulder, feeling pity. Whoever had educated this boy made him think he should never stand taller than others when speaking. Despite his corrections, Jim hadn’t changed this habit.

“You won’t be sold. This is just to ensure the auction doesn’t fail,” Kurt reassured him. “You’re not an astrologer. If sold, they’d quickly find out, and you’d be killed.”

“Even if I die because of it…”

“You won’t,” Kurt said patiently. “Whoever is tricked will seek revenge, and the auction’s reputation would be ruined. The Wolves wouldn’t be that foolish.”

Jim asked in confusion, “So, I’m just there to show my face?”

Kurt affirmed, “Just to show your face. If things go smoothly, you might even be back in time for supper.”

Jim nearly cried. He truly believed he’d be sold in Kurt’s place and, as Kurt said, wouldn’t survive once discovered. He was terrified, with no one to confide in. His only brother was on Paradise Island, and they hadn’t seen each other for years.

“Thank you. Thank you for telling me this.” Jim clung to the sofa’s tassels, his eyes red. “I was preparing myself—”

Kurt wanted to comfort him but was interrupted. Someone entered, announcing that Khalif had arrived upstairs and would be coming down soon, asking Jim to leave.

Jim quickly stood, wiping his eyes hastily. As he turned to go, Kurt grabbed his coat.

“Mr. Kurt?”

Kurt looked surprised and somewhat hesitant. “Jim, do you have family in the inner city?”

Kurt had noticed an ominous sign on Jim’s face, but unlike astrological calculations, it was based on intuition and talent, rarely used for divination.

“I have a brother,” Jim said. “But he’s not here.”

The person who had entered urged them again. Kurt glanced at the door, then leaned in and whispered, “Find a chance to visit home.”

Jim stared at him in shock, but the person outside couldn’t wait and pulled Jim away. Khalif was already at the end of the corridor, and they barely managed to avoid him by ducking into a side room.

“What’s wrong with you?” the messenger scolded Jim. “Hesitating like that. What if you’d run into Lord Khalif?”

Jim didn’t say anything, but he was deeply concerned about Kurt’s unusual behavior.

If anyone else had made such an ambiguous remark, he wouldn’t have paid much attention. However, given his recent experiences, it was clear that Mr. Kurt was a truly skilled astrologer. The guards and outer servants occasionally discussed how rare and valuable astrologers were on the continent, and how White Bridge was incredibly fortunate to have captured one this time.

For someone like that to urge him to go home… There weren’t many valuable possessions in his house on Paradise Island. As long as he and his brother had enough to eat, they were satisfied. Could it be that something had happened to Jason?

“Don’t think that just because you were chosen as a stand-in, you can get carried away. This job is just for one night. Do you think wearing a fancy shirt makes you a noble?” The man continued to rant, “Don’t forget where we came from.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim quickly said. “It was because Mr. Kurt was still talking to me. I won’t forget where I came from. Even if I forget, the inner city will never acknowledge me.”

“That’s right,” the man said. “The inner city will never acknowledge us. In fact, they don’t care at all about the hardships we endure, so all of this is deserved.”

When talking about the boss behind his back, he instinctively lowered his voice. “The more people who go on strike, the better. Let them see what the inner city becomes without Paradise Island!”

“Strike?” Jim heard a new word.

“You don’t know? It’s all over the place!” The man thought for a moment and realized that Jim, who had been mostly confined underground, wouldn’t have heard the news. As the one responsible for running errands and delivering messages, he often went outside. With Lord Khalif just arriving, the man figured it wouldn’t end quickly, so he let his gossiping nature take over and sat down with the bewildered Jim. “Let me tell you all about it.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

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Chapter 165

“Thank you, Amber.” Prima tried her best to remain calm, nodding at the boy. But when she looked up and saw his face, she was startled again. “What happened to your neck?”

She moved closer to Amber, carefully examining the scratches on his neck and face. The scratches weren’t deep but were long enough to look serious. Amber himself didn’t think much of it. Compared to the injuries he had sustained from underground fighting, these were nothing. However, to a girl, such long wounds on the face were indeed alarming.

Prima’s movement allowed Amber to catch a whiff of her perfume. The boy stiffened a bit. He had met Prima twice before and knew she purely regarded him as a child, but he still felt a little uncomfortable. In a stiff tone, he said, “Just a cat gone out of control. It’s nothing serious.” He couldn’t very well tell her it was due to an ill-tempered Pluto Owl that would hiss at anyone and required a battle every time he fed it.

Prima instinctively wanted to offer some scar cream from her home but remembered what Louis had told her today and what she had encountered upon returning home. Her face paled, but she didn’t want Amber to worry, so she simply advised him to watch his diet and keep the wound dry.

Amber wasn’t very good at dealing with women, especially when they showed concern for him, so he made an excuse and slipped away to find Priscilla.

“Why would Prima come at this time?” Louis was a bit surprised. “Does she know your identity?”

“What identity?” Priscilla countered. “Countess of Mokwen or the mother of your child?”

Louis: “……”

“You know what I mean,” Louis said. “If you’re unhappy, I can go talk to Prima.”

Priscilla roughly knew about Louis and Prima’s past—Louis hadn’t mentioned it, but the simple girl had confided her romantic troubles to Priscilla, who she saw as a gentle and understanding sister. In reality, Priscilla quite liked Prima.

But being pregnant, her mood was often unstable, and she couldn’t help but get a bit irritable.

Priscilla lowered her gaze. “Of course, I told her my identity. Otherwise, how would she know the address here? After all, I am considered a distinguished guest of the Wolf Family this year.”

“As for you.” She curled her lips slightly. “Better not go over. Last time, I spent a lot of effort badmouthing you with her, and it would be awkward.”

She was telling the truth. Criticizing men was always a good way for girls to bond quickly, and Priscilla felt a subtle connection with Prima regarding their similar unrequited feelings towards Louis. Their criticisms were quite heartfelt.

Louis nodded. He didn’t mind being talked about but could roughly guess Prima’s panic. Charlie had mentioned he would use Louis’s identity to discuss Khalif’s secrets with Prima. While he didn’t know the extent of what Charlie had revealed, it was normal for a dutiful daughter to be confused and panicked after seeing the murky world outside her safe bubble.

“If you like, I can leave some people to help you move,” Louis said, focusing back on his main purpose for coming today. “It would be best to finish before sunset.”

Priscilla was silent for a moment. She wanted to ask more about the friction between Paradise Island and the inner city and didn’t feel like moving due to her discomfort. But she understood Louis wouldn’t suggest this without considering her feelings, and Prima was waiting for her.

“Erica will arrange it.” Priscilla sighed softly. The odd feeling of unease she had earlier was now gone, replaced by a deeper worry.

“I once said in a letter that I would tell you the baby’s gender in person, but that was a lie. The doctor couldn’t determine it, so we’ll have to wait until the baby is born to know if it’s a boy or girl. So… whatever you’re planning, please be careful.”

Louis’s expression remained unchanged. He nodded. “Please take care of your health.”

……

Prima returned home at nine in the morning.

Khalif had left for Adan’s office in the middle of the night, but Xanye was still there. Knowing that the eerie, evil doors in the basement were connected to Xanye, Prima wanted to avoid seeing her even more than usual.

Moreover, Xanye was an unregistered mage, and Prima wasn’t confident she could come out on top if they clashed.

So before leaving, she instructed her maid to wait for her at the side door and not alert anyone else.

Since it was Khalif’s house, Xanye didn’t dare to place many spies, and with Khalif not around, no one knew when Prima returned. But as she sneaked along familiar routes to the basement, she found the door already locked, thwarting her plans to investigate secretly.

Prima didn’t want to give up. She remembered seeing the large ring of keys Khalif had when he collapsed in pain last night. These keys were made from various materials and had different shapes, likely matching the many strange doors on the walls. Maybe the key to the entrance was among them.

Khalif would likely carry something so important with him, but if Xanye had a hand in the magic, could she also access the basement freely? Hesitant, Prima decided to test Xanye but found her in the garden talking to someone from the Monkey Family. Without Khalif’s permission, the Monkey couldn’t freely enter the house. Seeing them walking away, she grew anxious and rushed towards them, dragging her maid along.

She could only catch a few words as she got closer, and just as she tried to slow down and listen carefully, Xanye turned around and caught her eye. Xanye usually didn’t think much of Prima, who was overly gentle and indifferent to worldly affairs. Thus, she wasn’t alarmed but instead displayed her usual sneer. “Oh… it’s you.”

She turned to the small man beside her and whispered, “Always sneaking around.”

Prima steadied herself and put on an annoyed expression. “I wasn’t sneaking around. I was walking. This is my family’s garden. I’m going to catch a carriage—please make way.”

Xanye raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised at Prima’s assertiveness. Her pretty eyes shifted as she thought of Khalif’s outburst last night. She figured the household staff and Prima thought her fall from favor had started, hence the sudden change in attitude.

A bunch of fools. She snorted and looked Prima up and down. “So you’re going out. Yes, an old maid like you should go out more so the young men know—”

“Alright, alright,” the small man interrupted in a placating tone. “No need for hostility between beautiful ladies. Miss Prima, you look more radiant than ever.”

Prima glanced at him. Although his words were flattering, his eyes were filled with malice, making her uncomfortable. She instinctively took a step back.

Xanye didn’t want to talk to her anymore. She said to the man, “Don’t waste time on irrelevant people.”

“Irrelevant? No, no, no. Miss Prima is the jewel in Lord Khalif’s eyes.” The man smiled, his eyes narrowing. “The most important child, right?”

If she had heard this a day earlier, Prima would have had no other thoughts. But after Louis told her about the possible sources of her father’s basement magic, hearing this from a Monkey made her feel like she was falling into an ice pit.

Regaining her composure, she wanted to find Louis, but Alexander said he wasn’t around. Distressed and confused, she felt a shadow over her home. After wandering around, she thought of Priscilla and rushed over without considering if it was appropriate.

But once there, she didn’t know how to explain everything to Priscilla. She couldn’t divulge Khalif’s actions casually. She had come to Priscilla because her other girlfriends, also in Khalif’s sphere of influence, were likely not safe. As Countess, Priscilla was a distinguished guest and not subject to the same risks. Additionally, she was mature and kind.

Prima felt ashamed of her selfishness. So when she saw Priscilla come into the room with her pregnant belly, Prima stood up suddenly, startling her.

“Prima, what’s wrong?” Priscilla held her hand while slowly sitting on the sofa. “You don’t look well.”

Prima shook her head. She had barely slept, and the shocks she had faced showed on her face despite the light makeup she had applied before leaving.

“How are you feeling today?” Prima looked carefully at Priscilla’s face. “I encountered something… but I regret it now. I shouldn’t have disturbed you so abruptly.”

“It’s alright,” Priscilla said, looking at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Prima shook her head, troubled.

“Then have some tea,” Priscilla suggested kindly, patting her hand. “Just keep me company. The doctor says I shouldn’t go out—”

“It’s better not to go out,” Prima blurted. “It’s not safe outside.”

Earlier, as she passed through certain streets, she had sensed something was wrong. People were gossiping and arguing in the streets. Coupled with Louis being unusually busy, these weren’t good signs.

In such times, Khalif would usually prioritize stability, urging Louis to quickly resolve issues to avoid affecting White Bridge’s business and reputation. But Prima had noticed since last night that her father’s attention was significantly divided, and Louis… seemed to be rivaling Khalif.

Under these circumstances, it was indeed unwise for Priscilla, being pregnant, to go out. Getting caught in any conflict would be disastrous.

She detailed the warehouse fire and Adan’s attack to Priscilla, including how Adan’s high-profile mother was lashing out at all Paradise Island residents within her sight. Priscilla’s face grew more solemn with every word. When Prima finished, Priscilla gripped her hand.

“Prima, I need to leave this house and find somewhere safer,” Priscilla said. “This area is too conspicuous. If conflict intensifies, it’ll be a target. And you—being Khalif’s daughter—are also at risk. You should go home and stay indoors.”

Prima’s face paled further, and Priscilla immediately noticed her hand trembling. She frowned. “What’s wrong?”

She thought back over her words and keenly sensed something amiss. “You can’t go home?”

Prima looked at her helplessly, amazed at her perceptiveness. She used the word “can’t”, not “won’t”.

“Then come with me,” Priscilla decided. “We’ll pack up right now.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 164

The servant, who had been waiting at the gate for a long time, finally saw the familiar carriage and quickly went to meet it.

“Young Master,” they called softly.

But the first to alight was not the person they were waiting for, but a tall, taciturn man with unhealed wounds on his chiseled face, making one wonder if the parts of his body covered by clothes were equally scarred.

No one dared to ask.

The man personally unfolded the carriage steps, watching the young master’s movements—autumn had just begun, but this year’s cold wave had come particularly fast. Coupled with the extra mental strain, this outing had caused his master to start coughing again, which everyone was eager to prevent.

Everyone knew that the young master of the Napoli family had poor health. If he fell ill before winter, the entire winter’s social events in White Bridge would be dominated by the topic of whether Fahim would survive until spring.

Of course, this wasn’t something to be openly discussed, though Fahim himself didn’t seem to care much.

He stepped down from the carriage and casually handed his cane to the approaching servants.

“What’s the matter?” he asked wearily.

“The master has been waiting for you,” they replied simply.

“Maxim, take my things to the other residence,” he instructed the scarred man. “Get everything in order and come over.”

Maxim nodded but remained standing until he saw Fahim, surrounded by people, safely enter the house before turning and getting back into the carriage.

Fahim didn’t particularly like the old mansion, not only because it had a musty, decaying smell that no amount of incense could cover, but also because the people living there made him as uncomfortable as expensive but useless old handmade tapestries that made his nose itch.

He called it “idiot allergy syndrome”.

“Fahim.” The current head of the Napoli family, Rat, was sitting in a smoking room adjacent to the bedroom. Seeing his son finally return, his expression softened slightly.

Fahim stood in the doorway, not immediately entering or responding to his father, instead leaning against the doorframe, his gaze sweeping the smoking room.

His father, grandfather, and two uncles… Almost all the men of the Napoli family were present.

“Fahim, we’ve been waiting for you.” His uncle asked concernedly, “How did it go this time? Was it smooth?”

“Managed to get by,” Fahim finally stepped into the smoking room. The servants outside hurriedly closed the door.

“Where’s Dr. Alai?” Rat asked. “You don’t look well.”

Fahim found a single chair and sat down. “I always look like this. What happened?”

As the only younger member in the room, Fahim’s behavior was far from respectful. He didn’t even bother to hide his disdain for those present, even though they were his blood relatives.

But everyone tolerated it because, although Rat was the current head of the Napoli family, everyone knew Fahim was the real leader behind the scenes. Once Fahim came of age in April next year, the Napoli family would undoubtedly be handed over to him.

Rat’s face tightened again. “Your sister is in trouble.”

Fahim tilted his head. “Oh?”

“She’s pregnant,” Fahim’s uncle said with a grim face. “And the Forbisa family already knows about it.”

The Forbisa family was the one Rat had arranged for his daughter to marry into. This meant the child wasn’t her fiancé’s—this surprised Fahim a bit.

His sister’s mother was one of Rat’s mistresses, and, theoretically, she wasn’t supposed to carry the Napoli surname. However, because Fahim’s mother was in poor health and unable to bear more children, Rat brought this daughter into the old mansion, as it looked too desolate to have only Fahim as the only child.

Given her somewhat dishonorable background, this sister had always been overly quiet and timid in Fahim’s memory. He had never seen her get angry, and she wouldn’t refuse anyone. When their father arranged her marriage, she had obediently accepted it.

Fahim had once asked her about her impression of the Forbisa family, but she remained silent.

Now, barely two months after the engagement party, her pregnancy was showing, indicating she had been intimate with someone before getting pregnant.

Fahim frowned slightly, watching his father and uncles start arguing again.

“The Forbisa family already knows. The marriage is definitely off,” Rat said. “We must send her away—there’s no place for a daughter like her in the Napoli family.”

“Of course,” Rat’s brother said. “But what about the Forbisa family? They won’t let this go quietly.”

The smoking room fell into a brief silence.

Under Fahim’s management, the Napoli family had started to rise again, but this had only been in the past three years. This short time wasn’t enough to elevate the family to a higher level. Strictly speaking, they were still slightly weaker than the Forbisa family. The marriage was supposed to be a steppingstone to reclaiming their glory, but now it had become a potential heavy anchor that could sink them.

If there were other eligible daughters in the Napoli family, they could continue with the marriage. However, Rat only had these two children, and Fahim was unmarried. Yet, even Rat knew that as long as Fahim survived, he would go much further. In a few years, Fahim’s marriage prospects wouldn’t be limited to the Forbisa family’s level.

Fahim watched the group of men argue over his sister’s pregnancy and began to feel his nose itch again.

“I’ll go talk to the Forbisa family,” he said.

Rat and the others sighed in relief. They had summoned Fahim back with this intention, but their pride prevented them from suggesting that an underage Fahim handle the matter.

Fahim used a gemstone mine to settle the issue.

He had gone on a long trip during the change of seasons precisely for that gemstone mine. The location was somewhat ambiguous, and another family was also competing for it. Fahim had expended considerable effort to secure the mine. But before it had even warmed in his hands, he had to give it away as a compensation gift. While Fahim didn’t say anything, Rat and the others were so heartbroken they couldn’t sleep for days.

The Forbisa family gained a substantial benefit and didn’t publicize the matter, but no secret stays hidden forever. When the marriage was suddenly called off, some people managed to find out the reason.

Thus, Rat was determined to disown his daughter, as if burning a hole in the family tree would somehow separate the disgrace from the Napoli family.

Rat arranged for the “family disgrace” to be secretly sent out of White Bridge on a moonless night. No family members accompanied her to the dock. She boarded the ship with her pregnant belly, like a hidden mistake.

That winter, Fahim was busier than ever.

Losing the gemstone mine meant all his prior preparations and the losses incurred in the contest went down the drain. He had to negotiate with the Forbisa family. Though his cough didn’t return, his skin and hair grew even paler. On snowy days, walking down the street, he looked like a snowman wrapped in a coat.

“Such a mysterious look,” the ladies whispered by the fireplace.

“They say he’s in poor health… But where does he look unhealthy? If we must compare, my fiancé looks more like someone needing oil treatment.”

“Then invite him over.”

“Father would be angry. They say Fahim won’t live past 20.”

“When I was little, I heard he wouldn’t live past 15.”

“Hehe, if it’s not past 40, I could marry him.”

“Would he be willing? Some have been rejected.”

“There are really those wanting to marry him?”

“Don’t pretend. Many have their eyes on him.”

“I’m more interested in who got rejected…”

Fahim stopped and looked up. The curtains on the second floor of the villas along the street were quickly drawn, but the elegant carriages in the garden indicated a gathering of young ladies.

Maxim adjusted his grip on the umbrella, shielding them from the falling snow.

“How are your injuries?” Fahim withdrew his gaze.

Maxim didn’t respond. He had been injured protecting Fahim on their last trip, almost losing an eye. Fahim had placed him in another residence to recuperate, but Maxim recovered quickly and was back on duty within days.

Fahim didn’t need an answer and continued, “Arrange for tonight’s boat. I’ll go see her.”

His sister had, as usual, accepted the family’s “disposition” of her calmly and moved out obediently.

The Napoli family had no property or acquaintances in that small town, so the “Lady’s” exiled life wouldn’t be pleasant. By the time Fahim found the two-story stone house, his fingers inside his gloves were nearly frozen.

“Why didn’t you hire more people?” Fahim asked, sitting in the parlor with his sister. Maxim silently stoked the fireplace to keep the fire going.

She wasn’t impoverished to this extent. Although the Napoli family didn’t send anyone with her, they provided enough money for her to live comfortably. But she had only hired one middle-aged maid for cooking and laundry, making their winter life quite difficult.

“Just in case,” she said softly, covering her already bulging belly with a shawl.

“What are you afraid of?” Fahim frowned. “I’ll make arrangements.”

“I know.” She pushed a cup of tea towards Fahim. “I’m sorry. You’re already so busy.”

Fahim was indifferent to everyone, but she knew he still regarded her as his sister.

Even if disowned, Fahim would continue to support her. But as she said, Fahim was extremely busy.

The Napoli family had been in decline for several generations. Without Fahim’s birth, the family might have completely fallen in this generation.

Rat and the others were all useless. The entire family’s burden was on Fahim’s shoulders. Every day, he woke up to countless matters to handle. It was unrealistic and unnecessary for him to constantly worry about a half-sister.

But Fahim was the only one in the Napoli family who still cared about her. If he ever got too busy and forgot her, and she ran out of money, Rat and the others wouldn’t give her a scrap of paper. This insecurity made her instinctively live frugally.

Fahim looked at her belly.

“There’s only Molly and me. I’m not comfortable hiring male servants,” she explained.

“At least hire two more maids,” Fahim said nonchalantly. “Maxim, go to the agency—take the money.”

When Maxim left, Fahim told her, “Two people are too few. If you go into labor suddenly, there won’t even be someone to fetch a doctor.”

The argument was convincing. She immediately agreed.

“Thank you for visiting me and thank you for letting me keep the child.” She knew the family considered her a disgrace and wanted to abort the child.

Fahim said, “He’s my nephew.”

She had remained calm when she was disowned, showed little emotion when driven out of White Bridge, but hearing Fahim’s words made her cry.

At this moment, Molly entered with a tray of cookies. Seeing her mistress in tears, she panicked.

“Madam, Madam.” She whispered, using a handkerchief to wipe her tears.

“Thank you,” she sobbed. “I—I’m a useless mother. Fahim, will you protect him?”

Fahim sat still in his chair.

“Do you want to protect him?” he asked.

For a moment, the room was filled only with the crackling sound of wood burning in the fire.

Molly left again, and she straightened up.

Fahim watched her quietly.

Snow began to fall again outside. Sitting in the narrow parlor, Fahim listened to his sister talk about the child’s father.

He wasn’t a member of the Wolf or Monkey Families—just a passerby in White Bridge. Handsome, experienced, humorous, and considerate, he was like a gentle breeze, irresistible to a young girl.

She knew he would leave, and he knew he wouldn’t stay. So, no matter how angry the family was, she never revealed any information about him because it was pointless.

Wind couldn’t be caught. She understood this from the start.

“I want to protect my child,” she said, touching her belly. “I don’t care about myself.”

She looked up, surprised to see Fahim smiling.

Fahim said, “This is the first time I’ve heard you speak, Hannah.”

Hannah looked up in confusion.

Maxim was efficient. He arranged for two maids, fixed the creaking door before dark, and bought enough firewood to fill the unused stable.

Hannah, wrapped in a shawl, walked Fahim to the door, but Maxim gently pushed her back inside, protecting her from the snowy wind.

“I’ll come back in a month,” Fahim told her. “Don’t worry about anything. I will protect him.”

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

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

---

Chapter 163

The people of Paradise Island had gone mad.

This was everyone’s first reaction when the news reached the inner city.

Due to his responsibilities, Louis was the first to receive the firsthand information. Additionally, Alexander, being somewhat involved, had the most accurate intelligence.

“Those people are from the same circle as Bravi, but none of them hold any official positions. Only Pendrel has an uncle who works as an accountant under Mr. Cameron. His abilities are mediocre, and he hasn’t been promoted in five or six years,” Alexander said. He wasn’t unfamiliar with their backgrounds, as they had boasted about their family’s few notable members when they first met, saving him the trouble of a background check.

“They used our carriage?” Louis quickly walked through the courtyard. “How many of them are still alive?” From his perspective, it didn’t matter if all that trash died, but to others, this incident was likely far more serious than a few deaths.

“The carriage was overturned by the crowd. By the time Alpha and the others arrived, Pendrel and the coachman had already been dragged out of the broken windows. They weren’t dead. Someone managed to control the situation. They might use them for negotiations later.”

Someone managed to control the situation?

Louis paused. Charlie’s friends had been lurking on Paradise Island, and they probably stepped in when things got out of hand. Otherwise, if the enraged crowd had killed them, it would have been tough to handle the potential backlash. The hotheaded rioters might not have considered this, but “those people”, including Priscilla’s brother, would certainly have thought of it.

“Who stepped in to negotiate?” Louis asked.

“They didn’t show themselves directly. They pushed out a mysterious old man who said they could talk.” Alexander felt partially responsible for the situation. If he hadn’t been so passive in dealing with Pendrel and his cronies, things might have turned out differently.

“You go to Adan’s place and keep an eye on them—” Louis thought for a moment, then changed his mind. “No, you’re not suitable. Let someone else go and make sure they don’t do anything stupid.”

Alexander was about to agree when he saw Annie running over, lifting her skirt, her face flushed from exertion.

“Sir, Mrs. Morris’s assistant is in the front hall, urgently requesting to see you,” Annie said, her breath unsteady. “We’ve tried to calm him down, but he’s very agitated.”

“Who?” Louis looked at Alexander.

“Mr. Adan’s mother,” Alexander said.

“What does she want?” Louis continued walking, but not to the front hall. He headed for the side door, where the carriage was waiting. Alexander and Annie had to follow him quickly.

“She says she wants to deploy people to deal with people who had malicious intentions toward her family…”

Alexander’s eyebrow twitched. Louis had just mentioned this, and Mrs. Morris was already demonstrating what “stupidity” meant. But then he thought, if this woman wasn’t like this, she wouldn’t have indulged people like Bravi and Pendrel, who were more trouble than they were worth.

Even so, to boldly send someone to command Louis to act as her enforcer was astonishingly arrogant. Did she think Louis, an Elder, was her private army leader? Why hadn’t he heard of the Adan family being this… absurd before?

Or maybe they were always a bizarre family, held together by the only sane and high-ranking member, Adan, preserving their image.

Louis stopped and looked at Annie.

Annie: “?”

She feared this ambiguous smile on her boss’s face the most, not knowing what he was thinking.

Alexander sighed internally, amazed at how the clever Mr. Adan could have such a reckless and shortsighted mother. He spoke up. “I will go to persuade her and arrange some people to prevent…”

“No,” Louis repeated with a peculiar expression. “No.”

“If he wants to stay here, let him. Don’t interfere,” Louis said. “As for anything happening in his household, it has nothing to do with us. That’s what you should say to anyone who asks.”

Alexander stared at Louis for a moment, trying to determine if he was delirious with fever.

“Mrs. Morris’s idea of cleaning up probably means anyone from Paradise Island in her sight. Given the unresolved conflict between Pendrel and Jason, if another incident targeting Paradise Island occurs, the rift will be hard to heal.”

Louis reached the carriage, swiftly stepped onto the footstool, and got in. He refused the coachman’s help, closing the door himself, leaving Alexander and Annie bewildered.

“Then don’t heal it. Let it tear apart.”

Annie was dumbfounded. She turned to Alexander after the carriage disappeared around the bend. “What does he mean by this?”

She knew Louis was always rebellious, rarely complying with anyone (except Khalif). But this seemed overly rebellious. Even she could see this wasn’t just about Mrs. Morris’s family honor or a life debt. If Paradise Island and the inner city broke off, most of the city would be paralyzed!

While the inner city held most of the wealth and power, the lowly workers toiling away in corners were the main force of White Bridge, especially during the auction with guests from all over. Even a two-hour disruption in hot water supply would result in countless complaints. The privileged had long been accustomed to servants doing everything for them. If the servile staff suddenly disappeared, they wouldn’t be able to drive carriages or cook, let alone untie their shoes or corsets.

Alexander didn’t respond. Reluctantly, Annie faced the difficult steward again and asked, “Where is he going? To report to Lord Khalif? Why didn’t he take you?”

Usually, Louis took Alexander with him everywhere.

Alexander shook his head, suddenly removing his glasses and carefully putting them in his shirt pocket. He ruffled his neatly combed hair.

“Don’t worry about it. Just follow his instructions. One thing, don’t let anyone into his office—not even a piece of paper. If visitors don’t listen, get some tough guys to block the door.”

Annie shouted at his back, “Where are you going?”

Alexander didn’t answer. He and Louis had worked together for so long they had developed a silent understanding. Although he had no evidence, his instinct told him Louis wasn’t going to see Khalif and that the carriage ride had nothing to do with his job.

Louis was going to do what he wanted, and by not giving Alexander any tasks or instructions, he was implicitly allowing him to do the same.

Strangely, Alexander wasn’t surprised. He walked briskly to the stables, led out a brown horse, and, after some thought, took off his coat and put on a short robe hanging on the wall.

He was heading to Paradise Island.

……

The path from the garden to the entrance was paved with granite slabs of consistent color, each meticulously polished. The carriage wheels made almost no sound as they rolled over them. The black carriage, like a ghost in broad daylight, stopped silently at the door. The silent coachman unfolded the steps for Louis to alight.

The servant, who had been dozing on the porch, woke as soon as the garden gate opened. Recognizing Louis’s distinctive black carriage from afar, he quickly summoned a maid to deliver the message and stood straight, waiting.

“Mr. Louis,” the servant greeted respectfully, bending deeply.

Louis nodded without responding, his attention on the approaching maid.

“Is the Countess home?” he asked politely.

“Madam is in the reading room writing poetry. Please wait in the side hall,” the maid, an older woman with a stern demeanor, replied.

Louis nodded, handing his cane to the footman, and followed the maid to the side hall, not urging her.

A boy entered to serve tea. Louis’s gaze traveled from the boy’s legs to his face. There were several scratches on his neck and jaw. Considering the boy’s age, it looked more like a pet cat’s doing than a lover’s gift.

“Amber?” he asked softly.

Hearing this, the boy looked up, trying to appear casual but was clearly curious, staring a bit too long at Louis’s face.

He looked exactly like Mr. Charlie but felt completely different.

“I’m Amber,” he said, a bit flustered. He regretted volunteering to serve tea just to see what Louis looked like—twins indeed shared the same face.

But Louis seemed only to be greeting him, not making conversation. Amber, unfamiliar with him, nervously forgot how to speak the common language. Priscilla soon came downstairs, and Amber took one last glance at Louis and quietly left.

“Ceylon.” Priscilla stopped Louis from rising to assist her and slowly sat on the sofa. “I can’t rely too much on others. The doctor says I might not have enough stamina.”

“I’m not others,” Louis said.

Priscilla blinked and smiled. “Of course you’re not. Why the sudden visit? Luckily, I got up early… Did Luna say what I was doing?”

“In the reading room, writing poetry.”

“Ah, I was actually eating a pie drenched three times in syrup,” Priscilla said lightly. “But Luna wants me to maintain my image.”

“How’s your health?” Louis scrutinized her face.

“The doctor forbids me from going out,” Priscilla said seriously, seeing Louis’s concern. “They all recommend I stay in my room.”

“Do you think you could handle moving? Not far, but somewhere safer.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is your registered address as Countess of the Mokwen Kingdom. Khalif knows this. Something might happen in the city soon. I’m worried.”

“Is it about Paradise Island?” Priscilla asked.

Louis looked at her.

“I’d rather you listen to music at times like this,” he said softly. “But your people are efficient. They get news quickly.”

“Do you think things will escalate? Will the conflict affect the inner city?” Priscilla frowned. “I’ve noticed many people from Paradise Island here. They handle most of the heavy work. If influenced externally—”

“They might react internally,” Louis finished. “I have an idle place five streets away. It’s listed as bad debt but maintained regularly. You can move there with trusted people.”

“This house is nice, but if something happens, it’s too conspicuous—” he was interrupted by the chime outside the carved glass door. After a few chimes and permission, Amber entered.

“Madam, another guest is here to see you,” Amber cautiously reported, trying to follow the formal speech patterns, though his pronunciation was a bit awkward.

Priscilla raised an eyebrow.

“I’m quite popular today.” She turned to Amber. “Who’s the second guest?”

“Miss Prima. She seems a bit distressed and quite frightened.”

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Kinky Thoughts:

Note: This chapter is originally chapter 164. The author noted she accidentally posted it as chapter 164 instead of 163. I’ve made the changes to the translated version swapping the two chapters in order to have a more fluid flow to the story.

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