Written by Colin?

Henry stared in disbelief. The legendary Master Ashen was actually Colin Cox?

"That loser's calligraphy is worth this much? Henry, are you sure you're not mistaken?" Kate Galloway asked.

"There's no mistake. The brushwork, the presence, the visual impact—this is undoubtedly Master Ashen's authentic work. And look, there's even his signature seal on the back."

Henry was equally puzzled. Colin was so young—how could he possibly be Master Ashen?

"Are you certain Colin wrote this?" He turned to Iris.

Iris was about to nod, but then she remembered how Colin had just tricked her with a fake contract. This calligraphy could be fraudulent too.

"I'm not sure. Colin claimed he wrote it, but who knows if that's true."

"Well, there you have it. Colin always did have excellent penmanship." Maxwell rose from his seat.

Kate couldn't sit still either. Having thrown Colin out so abruptly, she suddenly felt a twinge of regret.

If they'd kept him locked up at home writing calligraphy, with each character worth a hundred thousand dollars, a thousand characters would be... a hundred million!

"No, I'm going after him."

Kate grabbed the calligraphy scroll and shot Gerard a meaningful look.

Gerard immediately jumped up and hurried out the door with his mother, chasing after Colin.

Meanwhile, Maxwell crushed out the cigarette he'd barely started and rushed to Colin's room to search for more of his work.

"Don't just stand there—start looking! Each character is worth a million!" Maxwell was sweating with urgency.

At his words, Henry sprang into action, joining Maxwell in turning the room upside down.

Iris remained where she stood, her expression uncomfortable.

Her entire family had just thrown Colin out, and how long had it been? Now they were frantically searching for his calligraphy. The irony wasn't lost on her.

Meanwhile, Colin walked toward the Old House, his daughter's clothes bundled on his back.

Iris divorcing him—that stung, but he didn't hate her for it.

What he hated was that the Fox family had taken his daughter's life!

That child wasn't just Iris's. She was his daughter too.

What right did they have to make that decision without him?

Three months. His daughter had been three months along. She'd already developed into a tiny life, with a heartbeat, a small body, the first stirrings of awareness...

And just like that, she was gone.

Rage erupted from Colin's chest, blazing skyward.

"The Fox family—every last one of them is a murderer!"

He would settle this score. He would make them regret that foolish decision for the rest of their miserable lives.

He would get justice for his poor daughter.

The truth was, these past three years, Colin had only wanted to live as an ordinary man.

But in the end, he'd made the bitter discovery that he couldn't even protect his own child.

"If that's how it is, then I'll become who I used to be. After three years of silence, I suppose everyone's forgotten the name 'Dragon Lord.'"

Colin gripped the Serpent-Ember Jade at his chest.

The moment he shattered it, the Dragon Seal would break, and he would once again become the Dragon Lord—the man whom all eight regions once revered.

But... he still couldn't bring himself to do it. His cultivation was completely gone, and the injuries inside him hadn't fully healed.

Even if he broke the seal, he wouldn't be able to cultivate.

He could handle ordinary people easily enough, but against a true martial arts master, it could cost him his life.

After a long moment, Colin let out a heavy sigh, and his grip on the jade slowly loosened.

His phone rang. It was Amos Floyd calling—the patriarch of the Southland Floyd family, and an old friend.

That Longtide Group contract had come from the old man himself.

"Colin! Heard you got divorced. Congratulations! I was just about to set off firecrackers to celebrate." The old man's voice dripped with schadenfreude.

"You old bastard." Colin laughed despite himself. The man's information network was terrifyingly efficient.

"Perfect timing, actually. My granddaughter Marjorie happens to be in Seacliff. You should meet her. She's absolutely stunning—'moon-shaming, flower-eclipsing beauty,' they call her. Known as Well Spirit's most beautiful woman, the Queen of Commerce, five-foot-seven..."

Colin cut him off. "Old man, just tell me what you want. I'm not in the mood."

Amos chuckled. "Fine, fine. Here's some good news: I've found a five-hundred-year-old Blood Spirit Reishi. A treasure like that should be exactly what you need."

Colin's eyes lit up.

A five-hundred-year Blood Spirit Reishi would be enough to fully heal his injuries!

"I'll head to Well Spirit right away," Colin said immediately.

"Hold on now. I spent a fortune acquiring this. I half want to eat it myself—you think I'm just going to hand it over?" The old man's voice turned smug.

"What do you want me to do." Colin knew the man never did anything without a motive.

Amos's tone grew serious. "Longtide Group has run into trouble in Seacliff. No one else can handle it. You're the only one I can ask. My granddaughter—beautiful as a flower, I might add—will come find you shortly. Once you've dealt with the problem, I'll give you the Blood Spirit Reishi."

"Deal!"

Colin agreed without hesitation. The Blood Spirit Reishi was too important.

With it, he could fully repair his internal injuries. And once that was done, he could break the Dragon Seal and return to the path of cultivation!

To get justice for his daughter, he needed power. There was no other way.

He pocketed his phone, his gaze hardening with resolve. His pace quickened.

When he reached the entrance of the residential complex, a Rolls-Royce Wraith glided to a stop in front of him.

The door slowly opened, and out extended a long, porcelain-white leg.

Smooth and shapely, pale as jade—a pair of sheer stockings clung to her legs like a second skin, tracing every elegant curve.

Colin's pulse quickened at the fleeting glimpse.

She was tall, strikingly beautiful, and after a brief appraisal of him, she walked straight over.

The woman wore a flowing white gown trimmed with violet and gold thread—sensual yet undeniably regal. Her face was the kind that stopped hearts: delicate, luminous, as if she'd stepped out of some mountain goddess legend. Her eyes shimmered like autumn waters, captivating and impossibly refined.

"You must be Colin Cox. I'm Marjorie Floyd—my grandfather should have mentioned me."

She smiled and extended her hand.

Marjorie Floyd?

Colin blinked. So this was the Floyd family's eldest daughter.

She truly was breathtaking.

"Hello. I'm Colin."

He took her hand. Soft, smooth—like warm jade.

"Mr. Cox, Longtide Group has run into a problem we can't solve on our own. We'd like your help." Marjorie was direct.

"I know. Old Mr. Floyd already told me."

Colin gestured toward the run-down apartment complex nearby. "Wait here. I need to stop by my place first."

Wait?

Marjorie's brow furrowed slightly. With her status, she wasn't used to being kept waiting when she personally came to recruit someone.

But Colin was her grandfather's recommendation. She had no choice but to comply.

Colin headed home with his belongings. This apartment had been his and Iris's marital home—a cramped unit in a decrepit old complex. With his help, Iris's career had flourished, and two years ago she'd moved out.

This shabby place? She'd left it to him.

Back inside, Colin opened his bundle and stared at the colorful little clothes he'd made for his daughter. His chest felt like someone had carved out a piece of his heart.

He sorted through the tiny garments, and before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face.

A man doesn't cry easily—only when his heart is truly broken.

Just then, the door slammed open. Kate Galloway and her son Gerard burst in.

"Colin! Colin—"

They hollered like they owned the place.

"What do you want?" Colin's voice was ice.

"So the loser really is hiding here." Gerard sneered, waving a piece of paper. "Did you write this?"

Spring Pool's Gentle Charm.

Colin glanced at it and gave a slight nod.

Mother and son exchanged looks, eyes lighting up with greed. They stared at Colin like he was a gold mine.

"Not bad handwriting. Since you're so pathetic you can't even find a job, I'll do you a favor. Write for me every day, and I'll pay you two thousand a month. How's that sound?"

Gerard was playing quite the angle.

Colin scoffed. His calligraphy commanded ten thousand dollars a character—and this punk was offering two thousand a month?

"Not interested. Get out."

"What? You piece of trash, you're refusing me?"

Gerard's face contorted with rage.

Kate quickly grabbed his arm, then plastered on a smile and sidled up to Colin. "Colin, you were my son-in-law after all. Writing a few characters—it's such a simple thing. Since Gerard's already asked, just say yes."

"Son-in-law?" Colin laughed coldly. "Iris and I are divorced. I have nothing to do with you people."

Kate's expression hardened instantly. "You ungrateful wretch! Forgetting your mother-in-law the moment it's convenient—are you even human? Today you're writing whether you like it or not!"

"Get out." Colin's eyes flashed with anger.

"Bastard—you want to die?" Gerard grabbed a stool and swung it at Colin's head.

Colin sidestepped easily. Gerard stumbled, nearly falling.

But Kate was quick. She darted to the pile of tiny clothes and smirked. "Colin, if you don't write a thousand characters for us today, I'll burn every last one of your daughter's things."

Gerard was already there with a lighter, snatching up a stuffed bear and dangling it in Colin's face.

"Write, you dog—or else!" The flame flickered closer to the toy.

Soon, an acrid smell filled the room. The bear caught fire.

"You animals!"

Colin's restraint shattered. His palm connected with Gerard's face before the younger man could react.

Crack!

Gerard flew backward, his head slamming into the corner of the wall. Blood streamed down his face.

Colin lunged forward and smothered the flames on the bear—but it was already ruined beyond recognition.

The more he looked at it, the angrier he became. He grabbed Gerard by the collar, hauled him upright, and slapped him across the face again. And again.

A dozen blows later, Gerard's face was a swollen, bloody mess. Two teeth flew out mixed with blood. He looked like a battered pig.

"You dare hit my son? I'll kill you!"

Kate shrieked and kicked off her heels, driving the stiletto point toward Colin's eye.

He caught her wrist and shoved. She landed hard on her backside.

"Get. Out."

Colin's voice was low, dangerous. His bloodshot eyes burned with something that made Kate recoil—like staring into the face of a demon.

"Brock Hale! Get up here—someone's beating me!" Gerard screamed into his phone, blood dripping down his chin.

He'd always been a street punk. Now that he had money, he fancied himself a big shot and had collected a gang of lowlife friends to match.

Minutes later, a tattooed hulk led a dozen thugs up the stairs. They looked ready for murder, weapons in hand.

"Beat him! Beat this bastard to death!" Gerard jabbed a finger at Colin, snarling through broken teeth.

The thugs fanned out, surrounding Colin with their weapons raised.

Colin didn't flinch.

He reached up and unclasped the jade pendant from his chest, then hurled it to the ground.

The outer casing—carved in the shape of a serpent and phoenix—shattered completely.

But inside, something else emerged.

A dragon.

The Dragon-Shaped Jade.

Colin gazed at it, his expression softening with unexpected tenderness.

Old friend... I'm sorry I kept you locked away for three years.

But now?

The serpent shatters. The dragon rises.

I, the Dragon Lord, have returned.

When Colin picked up the jade pendant and slowly rose to his feet, everyone sensed something different about him.

The dozen or so thugs surrounding him all felt a chill crawl up their spines.

"Get him, Brock! Look what he did to me!" Gerard pointed at his grotesquely swollen face, screaming with rage.

"Move in!"

The tattooed brute glanced at Colin, then waved his hand.

"I'd like to see who dares!"

A commanding female voice cut through the air as a breathtakingly beautiful woman strode toward them.

It was Marjorie, flanked by two bodyguards in black.

The moment Gerard laid eyes on her, despite his bruised and battered face, his heart skipped a beat. What a knockout!

Those legs in silk stockings—absolutely exquisite.

"Deal with Mr. Cox's problem."

Marjorie surveyed the scene, her delicate brows drawing together.

One of her bodyguards stepped forward and made short work of the thugs.

Even Brock caught a vicious slap across the face before scrambling away in a panic.

The Floyd heiress's bodyguards were no ordinary men.

Colin narrowed his eyes. He hadn't expected this woman to handle his trouble for him. But the Serpent-Ember Jade was shattered now, and the Dragon Seal was broken.

The Dragon Lord had returned.

"Colin, who are these two...?" Marjorie looked toward Kate and her son.

Before Colin could respond, Kate shrieked, "So that's how it is! No wonder you were so eager to divorce my daughter—you've been keeping a little mistress on the side! This shameless hussy—"

She never finished. Marjorie's palm connected with her cheek.

A woman of her standing would not tolerate such slander.

A vivid handprint bloomed across Kate's pale face.

"Ahhh—!" She let out a piercing scream. "How dare you hit me! Do you have any idea who I am? I'm President Iris Fox's mother! You're finished—"

"My precious boy, kill these two! Avenge your mother!"

"You bitch! You hit my mom—you're dead!" Gerard charged forward, blood streaming down his face. But before he could get close, a bodyguard's kick sent him flying.

His body slammed into the security door with such force that the solid wood panel caved inward.

"Ahhh..."

Gerard lay on the ground, howling like a slaughtered pig.

His arm was broken, no doubt about it.

"You... that was brutal!" Kate pointed at Marjorie, then at Colin, snarling, "My daughter is Iris Fox! You broke my son's arm—I'll make sure you pay for this!"

"Break her jaw!"

Marjorie was already in a foul mood. She had no patience for this woman's threats.

The bodyguard moved to comply, mechanical in his obedience to the young mistress's orders, regardless of the target's gender.

"Forget it. Let them go." Colin spoke up.

Marjorie immediately waved her hand.

"This isn't over!" Kate spat, refusing to back down even in defeat.

Supporting the half-dead Gerard, she reached down to grab the calligraphy scroll from the floor.

"Leave the scroll."

Colin's voice was flat.

"What are you doing? You beat my son, and now you want to steal my family's treasure?" Kate's expression shifted.

Colin scoffed. It was his calligraphy. When had it become her family's treasure?

Well, technically it might have been while he was married. But they were divorced now.

Despite her devastating beauty, Marjorie was a woman of decisive action—she wouldn't be running the Longtide Group otherwise.

One look from her, and the bodyguard snatched the scroll from Kate's hands.

"Fine! Just you wait, you cheating pair! If I don't get my revenge, I'm not human!" Kate ground out through clenched teeth.

"Slap her."

The moment Marjorie uttered those words, Kate grabbed Gerard and fled.

"Hm? This is Master Ashen's calligraphy... an original?" Marjorie's eyes swept over the scroll, and her expression transformed. "That shrew had a genuine piece by Master Ashen!"

"It's mine." Colin extended his hand.

"No!"

Marjorie clutched it to her chest. The iron-willed businesswoman from moments ago had vanished, replaced by something almost childlike.

"Colin, let me have this. Master Ashen's work is my grandfather's greatest passion. If I gave him this piece, he'd be over the moon."

"Please?"

Those mesmerizing eyes of hers shimmered with a look that could break any man's resolve.

Her grandfather, despite his status, owned only one original by Master Ashen, which he treasured and hung in his study.

Though those particular four characters weren't exactly refined—"Senile Old Fool!"

Yet her grandfather cherished them like a priceless artifact.

These four characters, "Spring Pool's Gentle Charm," were far more elegant.

"I'll pay for it. Name your price..."

Marjorie was actually tugging at Colin's sleeve now, pleading.

"Fine. Take it." Colin sighed. For the old man's sake, she could have it.

Marjorie's face lit up with joy. She quickly tucked the scroll inside her coat, pressing it against her chest.

"Didn't you have something you needed me for?" Colin asked.

"Right."

Marjorie quickly composed herself. "Yesterday, over a dozen Longtide Group employees collapsed with severe abdominal pain and vomiting after eating lunch in the cafeteria. The doctors are completely stumped—they're calling it some kind of mysterious illness."

"They've all fallen into comas now. Their lives are hanging by a thread..."

"If they all die, Longtide Group will face serious consequences."

Colin considered this briefly. "Let's go. Take me to them."

The Dragon Lord was unmatched in both medicine and martial arts. Though his cultivation was gone, his medical expertise remained.

Soon they arrived at Riverview General Hospital, the finest in Seacliff—built with Floyd family investment.

Two muscular men in black suits stood guard outside the ICU.

"Miss Floyd, Second Master already brought in Dr. Murphy, the most famous physician in Seacliff. There's no need for you to go in." One of them blocked Marjorie's path.

"Where is Dr. Murphy?"

"He's finished his acupuncture treatment. He's having tea with Second Master in the reception room."

Marjorie turned to Colin. "Want to take a look inside?"

Colin peered through the window, and his brow furrowed. "Let's go in."

"Move aside." Marjorie faced the two guards.

"Miss Floyd, Second Master gave strict orders—no one goes in. Please don't put us in a difficult position..."

Slap!

Marjorie backhanded him across the face. "Out of my way."

Both men immediately lowered their heads and stepped aside.

Inside, Colin found thirteen patients lying on beds. A dark miasma clung to each of their chests, their faces twisted in agony.

Their shirts had been removed, and their torsos bristled with silver needles.

"What happened here?" Marjorie demanded.

One of the suited men hurried to explain. "Dr. Murphy said they've been poisoned. These are detoxification needles—they need to stay in for two hours to draw out the toxins. Under no circumstances should they be removed before then—"

His words died in his throat, his face draining of color.

Colin had stepped forward and ripped every needle from the patient's chest.