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.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Two men rushed forward to block Colin.

"Stand down!" Marjorie shot them a sharp look, then turned to Colin. "Are you sure about this?"

Colin nodded and pulled the silver needles from the second patient.

By the time he reached the eleventh, an old man in a gray robe came hurrying over, his white beard bristling with fury.

"Stop! What the hell are you doing?"

The old man was so angry his whiskers practically stood on end. He shoved Colin aside.

"Are you trying to kill these people?"

Colin studied him. "You must be Dr. Murphy."

Russell Murphy—Seacliff's legendary practitioner of traditional medicine. Even Colin had heard of him.

"That's right." Russell's face was purple with rage. He shoved Colin again. "These patients have been poisoned. I've been administering my Vernal Detox technique—it takes two hours to fully purge the toxins. And you just ripped out every single needle!" His voice cracked. "You might as well have yanked the oxygen tube from a dying man!"

"You've wasted all my work. These people will die right here, right now. What exactly are you playing at?"

Colin's brow furrowed slightly. "Dr. Murphy, your diagnosis is wrong."

"What? You dare question me?" Russell looked ready to explode. He jabbed a finger in Colin's face. "I've practiced medicine my entire life! I've saved more people than you can count—"

"I'm not questioning your record. I'm telling you what's actually happening. These workers aren't poisoned. They're—"

"Nonsense!"

Russell cut him off with a roar. "Seize him! Take him to the police—this man is attempting murder!"

The two men in suits moved to grab Colin, but Marjorie's bodyguards stepped between them.

"Dr. Murphy." Marjorie's voice was calm but firm. "Colin is a physician I brought in myself."

"Miss Floyd!" Russell finally noticed her. His white eyebrows knotted together. "If you know what's good for you, you'll have him arrested immediately. Otherwise, all thirteen of these people will die!"

"I..."

Marjorie thought of her grandfather's words. Colin's methods did seem reckless, but she'd made her choice. "I'm putting my trust in Colin."

"You—!" Russell's whiskers quivered with indignation.

"What's going on here?"

A middle-aged man strode into the room, his bearing heavy with the authority of someone long accustomed to power. This was Samuel Floyd, Marjorie's uncle and a formidable figure within the family.

Russell's eyes lit up like he'd found a savior. He rushed over and laid out Colin's "crimes" in excruciating detail.

"Arrest him!" Samuel's face darkened with fury.

"Uncle Samuel, please—trust me. Colin can heal them." Marjorie held her ground.

Samuel's cold gaze swept over her. "He walks in and starts yanking out needles? That's not medicine—that's recklessness. What could some green boy possibly know about healing? Russell Murphy is the most renowned physician in Seacliff. You'd trust this nobody over him?"

His voice turned to ice. "Marjorie, if you mishandle this, we're talking about thirteen lives. You won't just lose your position as head of Seacliff operations—you'll lose your standing in the family entirely."

"Think very carefully about what you're risking."

Marjorie's slender frame trembled, but she lifted her chin. "Uncle Samuel, I'm putting my trust in Colin."

Before Samuel could respond, Colin spoke up. "Two patients still have their needles in. We'll know soon enough who's right."

He sat down, closed his eyes, and began circulating his Vital Abbott, preparing for the treatment ahead.

Breaking the Dragon Seal had cost him nearly all his cultivation. What little energy he could muster now was barely a thread—but it would be enough for what came next.

That was when it happened.

The two patients still bristling with silver needles began to convulse, their faces twisting in agony. The dark miasma pooled at their chests started spreading outward, creeping toward their limbs.

The monitors tracking their vitals shrieked in alarm, their shrill warnings filling the room.

"What—"

Russell and Samuel both went pale. Even they could see it: the patients were deteriorating rapidly.

Meanwhile, the eleven patients Colin had treated remained stable.

"Dr. Murphy." Samuel's voice was dangerously quiet. "Explain."

"I... this shouldn't be happening." Russell clutched at his beard, bewildered. "They were poisoned—my technique is the finest detoxification method there is. It should be helping, not making things worse!"

"Are you going to remove those needles or not?" Colin's eyes snapped open.

Marjorie moved before anyone could stop her, her hands swift and sure as she pulled the needles from the last two patients.

The effect was immediate. Like cold water poured into a boiling pot, their convulsions eased. The dark energy that had been spreading across their torsos retreated, condensing once more around their hearts.

The change was visible to everyone in the room. Russell's weathered face flushed crimson.

"Everyone out," Colin said, rising slowly. "I need to work."

Samuel shot Russell a withering look and swept out of the room without a word.

Once the others had gone, Marjorie closed the door and drew the curtains.

"Colin, what exactly is wrong with these people?"

"Get me a jar. You'll see soon enough."

Colin selected a silver needle and approached the first patient.

Channeling his Vital Abbott, he worked with blinding speed, his hands a blur of precise motion. From the Shanzhong point at the chest to the Shenting point at the crown of the head—thirty-seven needles in all.

What happened next defied explanation.

The dark mass coiled around the patient's heart began to move, following the path of the needles as if drawn by an invisible thread. It traveled upward, finally gathering at the Renzhong point just beneath the nose.

"Come out."

Colin flicked the final needle with his finger. From the patient's nostril emerged a black worm, glistening and writhing.

It was two inches long, covered in fine hair, its back marked with patterns that seemed almost deliberately sinister. The sight of it made Marjorie's stomach turn.

Colin dropped it into the waiting jar and sealed the lid.

He repeated the process for each patient. Thirteen worms, thirteen extractions, all now squirming together in the container.

"What are those things?" Marjorie's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Parasites." Colin's expression was grim. "Heart-Devouring Parasites, to be specific. They nest near the heart and slowly consume it from within. Eventually, the victim becomes what the old texts call 'one without a heart'—and dies in agony."

A chill ran down Marjorie's spine. "How did they get inside these people?"

"Parasites don't just appear on their own." Colin exhaled heavily, the strain of continuous needle-work showing on his face. "Someone planted them. Someone who wants Longtide Group destroyed."

Marjorie's face hardened. An enemy hiding in the shadows, wielding such dark arts—who could they possibly have offended so deeply?

Half a minute later, she gasped. "Colin—look!"

He followed her gaze to the jar. Inside, the thirteen worms had arranged themselves in a deliberate formation.

They spelled a single word.

Death.