Merin’s understanding allows the five organs to link.

A cycle forms.

Wood from the liver flows into the heart, feeding fire.

Fire descends into the stomach, nurturing the earth.

Earth transfers into the lungs, strengthening metal.

Metal sinks into the kidneys, deepening water.

Water returns to the liver, enriching wood.

The cycle turns again.

And again.

But each rotation weakens.

Power bleeds away.

By the twentieth cycle, nearly half of his Blood Qi is consumed.

This is not a true cycle.

It relies on expenditure, not generation.

A stable cycle should sustain itself.

He lets his consciousness sink deeper.

He stops forcing the transfer.

He begins refining conversion.

Instead of pushing wood into the fire, he allows resonance to guide the transition.

Fire no longer burns hotter.

It burns cleaner.

Earth no longer grows heavier.

It grows denser.

Metal stops sharpening outward.

It condenses inward.

Water stops spreading.

It circulates.

The moment alignment improves, something changes.

An invisible field forms around Merin.

At first, it is subtle.

A faint pull.

Unbound metal trembles.

Dust-sized filings shiver.

Moments later, small metal objects lift into the air.

They drift toward him.

They stop meters away.

Then begin to rotate.

Slowly.

Smoothly.

Merin sits at the centre.

Like a sun.

The attraction strengthens.

Chairs scrape across the floor.

Metal ornaments rattle.

The necklace at Diexin’s throat jerks sharply.

She wakes with a gasp.

For an instant, terror floods her.

She thinks he is killing her.

She sits up abruptly, the cover sliding away, her breath uneven.

Then she sees it.

Metal circling the room.

Merin is unmoving at the centre.

Power bending space.

She grabs her necklace and holds it down with Qi.

Shock replaces fear.

“He isn’t in the Ninth Stage of the Blood Seal Realm,” she whispers.

Her eyes widen.

“This is minor mastery of the Inner Five Organ Realm.”

Her hands tremble.

Monstrous.

The word fits too well.

A loud knock slams against the door.

Voices shout from outside.

Diexin snaps out of it.

She looks around, spots a white robe, and pulls it on quickly.

She backs away from Merin, every step careful.

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The attraction grows stronger.

The metal bolts on the door begin to strain.

She braces herself.

“Everyone, move away from the door,” she shouts.

“I’m breaking it.”

Poison Qi surges through her palm.

She strikes.

Corrosion eats through the bolt in an instant.

She strikes again.

And again.

The door collapses inward.

Housekeeper Chen steps into the doorway first.

He freezes.

His mind goes blank at the sight before him.

Servants and maids crowd behind him.

Yueqing pushes forward.

And beside her stands a young boy, his features strikingly familiar.

Diexin glances at him.

Her heart skips.

He looks like Merin.

Too much like Merin.

“So this must be—”

“Duan Lin,” she murmurs.

The servants stare at Merin, shock rippling through the room as recognition dawns.

“He’s not in the Blood Seal Realm.”

“He’s in the Inner Realm.”

“He’s only twenty.”

“Has anyone in this era ever cultivated this fast?”

“Not just this era, not even in the past.”

The murmurs stack atop one another until Housekeeper Chen snaps back to himself.

“Lock down the mansion,” he shouts.

“No one leaves until Lord awakens.”

“Yes,” the guards respond, scattering at once.

Housekeeper Chen turns to Diexin.

“Mistress, please stay and guard the Lord.”

Diexin nods.

The servants are ushered away, the doors shut, and silence returns.

Only Yueqing and Duan Lin remain with her.

Diexin watches Merin.

The attraction field stabilises.

Metal stops trembling.

Rotation smooths.

Control replaces chaos.

She feels Duan Lin’s gaze.

Persistent.

Curious.

She turns her head.

“Do you want to say something to me?”

He hesitates, then blurts out, “How did you make my brother agree to marry you?”

He frowns.

“I thought my brother would never marry.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Diexin says flatly.

“Your brother asked me.”

Duan Lin’s eyes narrow.

“Did you know him before?”

“Were you hiding your relationship?”

She shakes her head.

“No.”

“We met two days ago.”

He raises his voice.

“That’s impossible.”

“My brother would never agree to marriage after two days.”

Diexin’s expression does not change.

“Then ask him yourself when he wakes up.”

Inside the field, Merin reaches the limit.

The cycle no longer resists.

There is nothing left to refine at this stage.

He withdraws his consciousness.

The cycle continues on its own, polishing his body without loss, without excess.

One stage is complete.

The next waits.

He seals the power inward.

The invisible field collapses.

Metal crashes to the floor.

Chairs slam down.

The room exhales.

Merin opens his eyes.

He surveys the wreckage calmly.

Later, after order is restored, he goes to the office.

Ye Wen arrives with a report.

“The source of the white powder hasn’t been found,” Ye Wen says.

“But another group has begun inquiring about it.”

Merin’s gaze sharpens.

“Did you find out who?”

Ye Wen shakes his head.

“They hid their tracks very well.”

“Continue the investigation,” Merin says evenly.

“And keep an eye on the other group.”

“Yes, Lord.”

Ye Wen leaves.

Merin does not linger.

With his captains occupied, he personally inspects a crime scene.

By sundown, the case is resolved.

Yet he does not return home.

Instead, he orders the carriage elsewhere.

“To White Lotus Pavilion.”

—

The White Lotus Pavilion stands luminous against the evening, its layered roofs glowing softly.

It is a spiritual item store operated by the strongest sect in the Two River Plain.

Merin enters without pause.

He hands an attendant a list.

Materials for refining a Dream Gu.

The attendant’s expression remains neutral, but his movements grow careful.

Minutes later, the items are brought out.

Merin pays with spiritual chips and leaves.

—

Back at his estate, Merin returns to his room.

He places a white centipede Gu into a sealed jar.

One by one, he adds the remaining materials.

He closes the lid.

He lowers the jar into a large kettle filled with water, seals it, and lights a gentle flame beneath.

He calls a servant.

“Maintain this fire,” Merin instructs.

“Do not let it rise or fall.”

“Yes, Lord.”

A full week will be required.

Merin leaves the refining room and returns to his office.

He writes.

Not arrays.

Not formations.

A spell.

He reconstructs the principle of the Dream Gu in written form.

His Virtual Engine Dao stems from the Law of Dream.

Even in a different world, the law bends enough to allow a minor spell to exist.

By the time he finishes, the night is deep.

—

He returns to his room.

Diexin is there.

She sits against the headrest, legs covered, a book open in her hands.

She looks up when he enters and closes it.

“Lord.”

Merin removes his outer clothes calmly.

“With our relationship,” he says, “you can call me by name when we’re alone.”

She nods.

“I’ll remember, Lord.”

He steps onto the bed in his innerwear and hands her the written spell.

She looks at it, puzzled.

“What is this?”

“A spell,” Merin replies.

“It functions similarly to the Dream Gu.”

Her eyes widen.

“What?”

She opens the pages and begins reading.

“Where did you get this?” she asks.

“Found it somewhere,” Merin says lightly.

His hand slides over her leg and draws her beneath the covers.

“You can study it tomorrow.”

He takes the pages from her, sets them aside, and pulls her closer.

The room grows quiet.

The night deepens.

And outside, unseen threads continue to tighten.

In a sealed chamber, three masked men stand before a stone door.

Minutes pass.

The door grinds open.

Chu Feng steps out.

The three bow deeply.

“Congratulations, Your Highness, on your increase in strength.”

Chu Feng snorts.

“Enough,” he says coldly.

“Tell me how the plan progresses.”

One of the masked men speaks.

“The Song royal family has requested aid from the Golden Lotus Sect.”

He pauses.

“It is highly likely the saintess will be dispatched.”

Chu Feng smiles faintly.

“Very good.”

They move deeper into the underground base.

Chu Feng speaks again.

“Our connection to the Black Fang Palace,” he says.

“Is it clean?”

“It will be,” another man replies.

“By sacrificing a few expendable pieces, we can sever all visible links.”

Chu Feng nods.

“That connection must never reach the Golden Lotus Sect.”

They exit into the open night.

Moonlight washes over stone and shadow.

Chu Feng stops and looks up.

The full moon hangs high, pale and distant.

For a moment, another face overlays it in his mind.

Clear.

Cold.

Like moonlight itself.

He narrows his eyes.

“How is Diexin doing?”

Silence answers him.

Chu Feng turns sharply, anger surging like a rising storm.

“Did something happen to her?”

One of the masked men steps forward.

“Highness, Shen Ling is already in the capital,” he says carefully.

“And Diexin has arrived as well.”

Chu Feng exhales, tension easing slightly.

“Where is she?” he asks.

“I will meet her tomorrow.”

The three men exchange glances.

One hesitates, then speaks.

“Highness… you may not be able to meet her.”

Chu Feng’s jaw tightens.

“Did she attack Shen Ling?” he demands.

“Did something happen to her?”

They shake their heads quickly.

“No,” one says.

“She is getting married.”

Chu Feng freezes.

“Married to whom?”

“Duan Merin.”

The world tilts.

Three years ago, he rescued Diexin.

They travelled together.

Fought together.

Survived together.

Somewhere along the way, he fell in love.

But ambition chained him.

His vow to his father bound him.

He never crossed that line.

After her betrayal by Shen Ling, he believed she would remain alone.

Remain with him.

Now he hears she is marrying another man.

His voice turns hoarse.

“Why?”

“How?”

The men look away.

“We don’t know.”

Chu Feng falls silent.

Then, quietly, “I want to meet her.”

“Highness,” one warns, “if you approach her, Marquis Duan may begin to investigate you.”

Chu Feng’s eyes harden.

“I want to meet her.”

A pause.

“…We will think of a way,” another says.

Chu Feng nods.

He turns away from them and looks up at the moon.

“Leave me alone.”

They withdraw into the shadows.

Alone beneath the cold moonlight, Chu Feng tilts his head back.

And screams his frustration into the night.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep