Merin opens his eyes.

There is no haze, no lingering turbulence, no stiffness in his body. His gaze is clear, sharp, as if the world has quietly aligned itself while he was unaware. He stands up from the bed without exerting any extra effort, his movements smooth and precise, strength flowing naturally through his limbs.

He walks toward the door and opens it.

A female servant stands outside, hands folded respectfully, clearly startled by how suddenly he appears. Before she can even lower her head in greeting, Merin speaks.

“Prepare my bath.”

He closes the door immediately after, leaving no room for response.

From outside, he hears the servant regain her composure.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Merin does not answer.

He returns to the bed and sits down, his posture relaxed as his thoughts turn inward once more.

The physical cultivation technique he has created unfolds again in his mind. If cultivated to completion, it will allow his life level to advance into the Third Stage of the extraordinary. That much is certain. The structure is stable, the principles aligned, the transformation path clear.

And yet,

He is not satisfied.

Something is missing.

The technique feels complete in form, but incomplete in essence. Like a blade sharpened perfectly, yet lacking weight. It can elevate life level, but not dominate existence. Not yet.

Before he can probe deeper into the issue, a knock sounds at the door.

“My Lord,” a voice says from outside, “it is your servant, Chen Yi.”

Merin’s thoughts pause.

“Come in,” he says.

The door opens, and Chen Yi steps inside. He is a middle-aged man with a restrained demeanour, his back straight, his movements careful. He is a distant relative of Housekeeper Chen and has been sent by the clan to manage Merin’s current residence.

Chen Yi bows deeply, then straightens and stands silently.

Merin’s gaze falls on his hands.

Two letters.

“Are the two letters from home?” Merin asks calmly.

Chen Yi’s eyes widen.

“Two?” He looks down, startled, and then stiffens. “It is… one letter, my Lord.”

He hesitates, staring at the second envelope in his grasp.

“My Lord, forgive me. I mistakenly brought another letter.”

Merin studies the envelopes.

One of them carries a faint, familiar presence.

Weiran.

He feels her power clinging lightly to the paper, restrained but unmistakable.

“No need,” Merin says. “Give me both.”

Chen Yi steps forward quickly and hands the letters over, then retreats to his previous position and lowers his gaze.

Merin weighs the two letters briefly, then opens the one from the family first.

Blood qi flows from his fingertip, sharp and precise like a blade. It slices open the envelope cleanly, leaving the letter inside unharmed. He flicks the empty envelope aside and begins to read.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

His brows draw together.

As his eyes move across the page, his expression darkens, not with panic, but with cold displeasure.

The letter details the attack during the Blood Deer Hunt.

Masked figures.

Chaos.

Royal and noble family members targeted.

And then,

Lady Duan went missing.

Merin’s frown deepens, but not from fear.

He had already asked Weiran to take care of Diexin.

What troubles him is something else entirely.

Who would dare?

Who would dare attack members of the royal family and the assembled nobles inside the Royal Forest?

He continues reading.

The letter mentions that the organisation behind Shen Ling made the marriage between Shen Ling and Prince Yuan’s fifth daughter possible. That the organization bribed Prince Yuan with Golden Blood Spiritual Liquid.

Merin’s eyes narrow.

So it is confirmed.

The organisation behind the Shen Family is not the Holy Blood Organisation.

That suspicion dissolves into certainty.

Blood qi flares in his palm, igniting like a crimson flame. The paper blackens instantly, curling inward as it burns to ash without smoke. The remains fall silently to the floor.

Merin reaches for the second letter.

Weiran’s letter.

He opens it.

Only two sentences are written.

“I have saved your child.”

“The attack was for your wife.”

Merin’s fingers tighten slightly.

A thoughtful expression settles on his face, deep and measured.

So it is Shen Ling.

And the force behind him.

They dared to reach for what belongs to him.

That cannot be forgiven.

Some lessons must be taught so thoroughly that even the thought of repeating the mistake becomes impossible.

Merin lifts his head.

“Call Ziqi,” he says.

Chen Yi nods at once and turns to leave.

Before he can reach the door, footsteps approach from outside, followed by a soft knock on the still-open door.

Merin looks up.

The female servant stands there, head lowered.

Chen Yi pauses and turns toward her.

“Shumei, what are you doing here?”

“The bath water for my Lord is ready,” she says respectfully.

Merin stands.

“Housekeeper,” he says to Chen Yi, “tell Ziqi to wait for me in the study room.”

Chen Yi bows.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Merin walks past him without another word, heading toward the bathhouse.

An hour later, he sits calmly in a chair, steam from freshly brewed tea curling lazily between him and the man standing across the table. Ziqi stands straight, head slightly lowered, posture respectful and disciplined.

Merin’s expression is composed, his voice even.

“Ziqi,” he says, “send my order to your brother. Torture the Shen Family members in Anxi Town. Find out whether the Holy Blood Organisation is behind them or not.”

He pauses for half a breath.

“And then,” he adds, “kill all of them.”

Ziqi does not hesitate.

“Yes, my lord.”

He bows deeply, turns, and leaves the room without another word.

Merin remains seated, fingers resting lightly against the armrest.

Originally, he had suspected the Holy Blood Organisation. It would have made sense. Their methods were cruel, invasive, and perfectly aligned with schemes that fed on chaos and blood. Yet over the years, he had destroyed many of their bases with his own hands. He knew their strength, their reach, their habits.

And something does not fit.

He never found any connection between the Holy Blood Organisation and the forces operating in the Western Gold Sand Region. More importantly, the Holy Blood Organisation no longer possesses the power necessary to launch a large-scale attack inside the Royal Forest, especially one that openly targets royal and noble families at the same time.

The scale is wrong.

The confidence is wrong.

The timing is wrong.

Merin exhales slowly.

For the first time in a long while, he lacks a clear answer.

His thoughts shift, re-centring.

His current position matters.

He is now in Wein Province.

Wein Province is different from the rest of the Song Kingdom.

On paper, it belongs to the kingdom. In practice, it belongs to the Xiao Family.

They are not a martial clan.

Not purely spiritual refiners.

Not nobles.

Not officials.

And yet, they are all of those things, and none of them.

If a single label must be attached, then “merchant family” fits best.

The Xiao Family is older than the Song Dynasty itself. Their roots sink deep into the land, and their wealth comes from trade with the Western Region, routes carved through danger, deserts, and blood.

Ninety per cent of the forces within Wein Province are connected to the Xiao Family in one way or another. Guards, caravans, warehouses, escorts, intermediaries, each serves as a resource node in the Xiao Family’s massive trade network.

Wein Province is their marketplace.

Their warehouse.

Their shield.

Only one force in the province can contend with them openly.

The Grey Wolf Army.

And their commander, General Zhang Wujun.

Merin’s eyes narrow slightly.

Before interacting with either of them, he needs leverage.

Control.

They will not speak with him seriously if he cannot even command a single town properly.

Gatewatch Peak Town is small, but it is the key.

Merin taps his fingers once against the table.

Then he rises.

He leaves the room and walks through the residence at an unhurried pace, his presence causing servants and guards alike to straighten instinctively as he passes. Outside, the carriage waits.

As he nears it, he speaks to the driver.

“Take me to the governor’s house.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Merin steps inside the carriage, and moments later, it rolls forward.

With his new official appointment, Merin is now not only the inspector of the northern region, but he is also the governor of Gatewatch Peak Town.

In theory.

In reality, the former governor, Shi Yuli, still occupies the governor’s residence.

He has been stalling his departure with endless excuses, unfinished paperwork, health concerns, missing seals, and unresolved accounts.

Merin had tolerated it.

Until now.

The carriage rattles softly as it moves through the town streets.

Merin leans back, eyes half-lidded.

He is tired of excuses.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep