ENGLISH VERSION 
2711
The clamor of Oakvale was already far behind.
Logan
didn’t leave right away. Instead, under a clear, moon-washed sky, he
quietly appeared in the courtyard of Grace’s private residence outside
the palace.
A few small dishes and a pot of sake sat on the stone table.
Grace, dressed in simple yet elegant clothes, was drinking alone in the moonlight.
She
didn’t seem surprised to see him. She simply smiled and gestured toward
the stone bench opposite her—almost as if she’d already expected him to
stop by and say goodbye.
“Heading out?” she asked, pouring him a full cup of wine, her tone casual yet familiar.
Logan sat down, the warmth of the porcelain cup melting into his fingertips. He nodded. “Yes. Things are wrapped up here.”
Grace
lifted her glass, her expression turning earnest. “Thank you for
everything. Without you, I wouldn’t have even reached Fairyharbor
Island, let alone secured the Immortal Essence Pill to save my father.”
Logan lightly tapped his cup against hers. The soft, clear ring of porcelain cut her words short.
“You
and I don’t need that kind of formality,” he said. “You guided me. I
helped you get the medicine. We both gained what we needed—neither of us
owes anything.”
His tone was calm, but it carried the natural sincerity that existed only between true companions.
Grace
smiled, accepting that response wholeheartedly. She didn’t say another
word—just lifted her cup and drank in one smooth motion.
She understood him well. He never said anything he didn’t mean.
“What’s next for you?” she asked, her gaze soft with concern.
Logan didn’t answer immediately. His eyes drifted westward, as though he were looking across thousands of miles.
He
set his fingers lightly on the rim of his cup. “West Lucozia. My father
isn’t well. I’m going home to check on him—and bring a few things.”
He
didn’t specify what “things” meant, and Grace didn’t ask. She already
knew the King of West Lucozia’s condition was dire—and that without a
miracle, time was running out.
“The road to West Lucozia is long. Take care.” Grace raised her cup again. “Help me send my regards to His Majesty.”
“Alright,” Logan said simply.
He finished his drink, stood, and left—clean, decisive, without lingering.
No
dramatic parting, no unnecessary words. Just as silently as he arrived,
his figure flashed briefly in the moonlight and vanished.
Grace looked at the empty stone bench. A faint smile touched her lips.
After everything they’d been through together, his presence had quietly carved itself into her heart.
But sadly… his heart already belonged elsewhere.
…
Leaving Oakvale, Logan still didn’t head back immediately.
Refining
Immortal Essence Pills was no small undertaking—especially when the
goal was to heal Rufus, whose lifespan had been eroded by time itself.
The pill’s quality needed to be far higher than a normal batch.
Without
the opportunity he’d gained on Fairyharbor Island, he would have needed
to consume part of his own origin power to refine such medicine. It
would take days.
Several days later—
The martial training grounds of the West Lucozia Prince’s Palace.
Banners snapped sharply in the wind. The roar of battle cries shook the earth.
Despite the King of West Lucozia’s failing health, the cavalry’s drills had never slackened.
In
the center of the training ground, a young general clad in black
commanded the soldiers through complex combined-attack formations. His
movements were powerful, his voice booming. This was Austin—Logan’s
younger brother.
Suddenly, he sensed someone watching him.
He spun around—and froze.
A white-clad figure stood quietly at the edge of the training grounds, eyes fixed on him.
“Big Brother?!” Austin blurted out. Shock flashed across his face, quickly replaced by pure joy.
He rushed over, ignoring the soldiers still practicing behind him. “When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Logan
patted his shoulder, taking in his now-rugged frame. “You haven’t even
been here long, but it looks like the military camp’s been treating you
well.”
“How
could it not?” Austin laughed. But the smile faded just as quickly. His
voice dropped. “Brother… Father’s health is getting worse. I don’t know
how much time he has left. He’s always thinking about you. You should
really go see him.”
“Relax. I’m already handling it.”
Logan
reached into his robes and pulled out a smooth jade box, handing it to
him. “Take this to Father. It’ll extend his life by ten years.”
Austin’s eyes widened. “Extend his life… by ten years?”
He looked up sharply, expression trembling between disbelief and hope. “Big Brother… you’re serious?!”
“I’ve already had the officials test the medicine,” Logan said. “It’s completely genuine.”
“You had the government test the medicine?” Austin’s eyelids twitched.
Only his older brother would dare say something like that without batting an eye.
“Time is short. Go now—and don’t tell him it came from me.”
“Brother, you’re not coming to see him?”
Logan paused, then shook his head. “No. I’ll wait for you to bring me news.”
Maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to face his dying father.
Maybe he wasn’t ready to see the once-towering figure reduced to frailty.
Austin didn’t push further. He clasped his fists, bowed, spun around, and took off like an arrow loosed from the string.
He hand-picked several of his most trusted guards, mounted up, and raced toward the King’s secluded residence.
2712
The
quiet room was worlds apart from the solemn, imposing atmosphere of the
Prince’s Mansion. The villa felt peaceful, almost serene.
But inside the master bedroom, the heavy smell of medicinal herbs mixed with the suffocating weight of death.
Rufus—the
once-mighty King of West Lucozia—now lay frail and skeletal on the bed.
Sparse white hair clung to his forehead. His complexion was ashen, his
eyes sunken, and his breathing so faint it barely stirred the air, as
though the last ember of his life might be snuffed out at any moment.
Princess
Eloise sat by his bedside, gently wiping his thin, brittle hands with a
warm towel. Her beautiful eyes were swollen and red, fresh tear tracks
still glistening.
Several seasoned physicians with white hair and long beards stood nearby, shaking their heads, sighing helplessly.
Rufus’s body was already at the brink—far beyond what medicine could touch.
“Father! Mother!”
Austin burst into the room like a storm, ignoring the dust on his clothes and all sense of decorum.
“Austin? What are you—” Eloise’s surprise quickly shifted into worry.
Austin didn’t explain. He hurried to the bedside and opened the jade box. “Mother! Quickly—give this pill to Father!”
The
moment the lid opened, a gentle, pure fragrance filled the entire room.
It carried such potent vitality that the lingering heaviness and
deathly stillness dissolved almost instantly. Everyone felt refreshed—as
if a fresh breeze had blown through their chests.
“This… what is this?” Eloise and the veteran physicians stared in disbelief. They had never seen a pill radiating such life.
“This is the Immortal Essence Pill. It can save Father’s life. We have no time—he needs to take it now!” Austin urged.
Seeing his seriousness, Eloise gritted her teeth and pushed aside her doubts.
She carefully lifted Rufus’s nearly weightless head and slipped the milky-white pill into his cracked lips.
The
pill didn’t even need to be swallowed. The moment it touched his
tongue, it melted into an incredibly warm current—like the first thaw of
spring—flowing silently into his dried meridians, seeping into his
failing organs, nourishing what little life remained.
Everyone held their breath.
At first, nothing happened.
But after just a few seconds—
A miracle began.
Rufus’s deathly gray face slowly gained a hint of healthy color… like parched soil drinking in fresh rain.
His
sunken eyes seemed to fill out again. His nearly silent breathing
became slow, steady, powerful—his chest rising and falling with new
life.
Even
more incredible, the skin-and-bone limbs that had looked ready to
crumble began to show faint twitches of muscle. The bluish veins beneath
his skin throbbed again, full of energy. Vitality—youthful, vigorous
vitality—was reawakening from the depths of his body.
Before the time of a single incense stick passed, Rufus’s eyes twitched.
Then, suddenly—
They opened.
Sharp, commanding eyes—the kind that once surveyed the world with an eagle’s intensity.
He was dazed for a heartbeat. Then clarity returned, along with the aura of a king reborn.
He moved his arms subconsciously, feeling strength swelling back into his body. It felt like regaining the prime of his life.
“I… I’m alive?” Rufus murmured, staring down at himself, overwhelmed.
“Your Highness!”
“Father!”
Eloise and Austin threw themselves at him, crying tears of joy.
Eloise hugged her husband tightly, sobbing with relief.
Around them, physicians and servants dropped to their knees.
“His Highness is blessed with boundless fortune!”
“A miracle! Truly a miracle!”
“Austin,”
Rufus said, exhilarated, “tell me—where did this pill come from? I was
already prepared to die, but after taking it… I feel reborn.”
“This…
this was given by a reclusive master,” Austin said awkwardly. “He was
grateful for everything you’ve done for the country and its people, so
he sought out an elixir for you.”
“A
reclusive master?” Rufus narrowed his eyes sharply. “Austin, you’re
still terrible at lying. Tell me the truth. This is a life-saving
favor—I must repay it properly.”
Caught under his father’s piercing gaze, Austin finally caved.
“Alright, alright… it was from my elder brother. But he told me not to tell you.”
“Logan?” Rufus froze, then burst out laughing.
“Hahaha! That brat! So he hasn’t forgotten his old man after all! Good—good!”
His joy was impossible to hide.
Surprise—because Logan had managed to find such a miraculous medicine.
Relief—because Logan had finally let go of old grievances.
It was only a shame that Logan refused to show himself. Even now, he cared enough to avoid embarrassing his father.
But now… Rufus had time. His life had been extended. And he would make things right.
…
Atop
the highest watchtower of the Western Palace, Logan stood with his
hands behind his back, the night wind billowing around him.
With
his cultivation, distance meant nothing. Everything inside the villa
unfolded before him as clearly as if he were standing in the same room.
He
watched Rufus laugh heartily, vitality restored, strength
returning—almost ten years younger in spirit as he scolded Logan
affectionately.
A tension buried deep in Logan’s chest finally loosened.
A moment later, he moved. His figure blended into the cool night breeze and vanished without a sound.
Not a single person noticed he had ever been there.
2713
After
leaving the Western Mansion, Logan headed back to Oakvale. The
dangerous trip to Fairyharbor Island had yielded more than just the
Immortal Essence Pill.
The life force, life essence, and soul flames of Cassius and the other two had all merged into him.
He had also inherited a portion of Gensei’s memories.
From them, Logan learned that martial artists were not the only ones who walked the world—cultivators existed too.
But
true cultivators were extremely rare. They lived in seclusion
year-round, hidden from the mortal world, difficult for anyone to
encounter.
Individuals
like Aukon from Fairyharbor Island were also cultivators, but ones who
had strayed far from the proper path—they were essentially demonic
cultivators.
In martial arts, the “Land Immortal Realm” was equivalent to what cultivators called the Core Formation Realm.
Logan was already at the peak of Core Formation—just one final step away from forming his Nascent Soul.
This final step was neither easy nor particularly difficult.
He could sense it now—the threshold of the Nascent Soul stage hovering faintly in the darkness, clearer than ever before.
But this barrier wasn’t something one could break through with spiritual power alone.
He needed to transform from the mundane—a breakthrough of the heart.
Only when one’s spirit and soul were complete and free of regrets could they truly enter the Nascent Soul stage.
When Logan returned to Oakvale, he moved back into the villa he had previously used.
The spiritual energy here was thin, the mortal aura heavy—perfect for experiencing ordinary life and tempering his Dao heart.
The villa was unchanged, though the courtyard plants looked a bit wild from months of neglect.
Closing the door behind him, Logan shut out the world.
He
didn’t meditate. He didn’t cultivate. He emptied his mind completely,
living like an ordinary scholar who couldn’t even kill a chicken.
Every day, he read books, brewed tea, swept the courtyard, watched the sunrise and sunset, listened to wind and rain.
He
didn’t use a trace of his divine sense. He didn’t absorb spiritual
energy. He even deliberately avoided thinking about his power to move
mountains and overturn seas.
Seven days passed quietly.
On the morning of the seventh day, sunlight spilled through the window onto Logan, who sat cross-legged on a futon.
The immense spiritual aura around him, once perfectly restrained, slowly receded like a tide.
This wasn’t suppression—it was disappearance.
He
opened his eyes. Their profound clarity—once able to see through all
things—was gone. What remained was the simple gaze of an ordinary
person, tinged with a hint of confusion.
He stood up and stretched. For the first time in a very long while, he felt heaviness… fatigue.
Hunger. Thirst. The cool bite of morning air.
All these sensations he had almost forgotten suddenly became vivid again.
“Transformation into the Mortal Realm… So this is what it feels like.” Logan murmured with a relieved smile.
He clearly sensed a hazy mist enveloping his dantian.
His spiritual power was silent—out of reach.
At this moment, he was no different from an ordinary man.
His indestructibility, his immunity to poison—completely gone.
But he understood this was necessary. Before breaking into the Nascent Soul stage, one had to fully experience mortal life.
To understand all the emotions, desires, joys, pains, and imperfections of humanity.
Only then could one shatter the elixir, form a nascent soul, and rise once more.
During this time, using true essence or breaking the seal would shatter his foundation—years of effort wasted.
“After running around for so long… it’s finally time to live like a normal person.” Logan smiled and opened the villa door.
The sunlight was a bit too harsh. He instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes.
Thinking of a certain smiling, passionate woman, warmth welled in his chest—along with a sharp sense of longing.
“Natasha…”
His body reacted out of habit, wanting to ride the wind to her side. But the moment the thought formed, he chuckled.
Now he was just an ordinary man.
Shaking his head, he walked to the roadside and hailed a taxi.
“Sir, to Dash Corporation.”
…
Dash Corporation — President’s Office
Natasha, dressed in a crisp white suit that highlighted her graceful figure, sat behind her desk reviewing documents.
Sunlight
poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting a soft glow
across her profile. But her slightly furrowed brows revealed a mix of
weariness and longing.
Months
had passed. That troublesome man—her nemesis, her husband—had
disappeared without a trace, without even leaving a message.
She knew Logan was capable and must be dealing with something serious, but her worry and resentment had only grown day by day.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Enter,” she said without looking up.
The
secretary stepped in, visibly troubled. “President Harmon, Young Master
Spanner is here again. He’s holding a huge bouquet of roses and insists
on seeing you.”
Natasha’s brows tightened instantly. A flash of irritation crossed her eyes.
“Tell him I’m in a meeting and don’t have time. And tell him to stop coming.”
“But Young Master Spanner…” The secretary looked uneasy.
“Do as I say.” Natasha’s tone was crisp—absolute.
“…Yes, President.” The secretary retreated quickly.
Moments later, a commotion erupted outside the office.
“A meeting? What meeting? Natasha, I know you’re inside! My feelings for you are real—why do you keep avoiding me?!”
Security quickly dragged him away.
Natasha pressed her fingers against her temples, exhausted.
Persistent pests—impossible to get rid of.
She stood and walked to the window, gazing down at the river of cars below.
“Husband… where are you? If you don’t come back soon, I’m going to be bothered to death by these flies.”
Just then, her office door opened again.
“I said I’m not seeing anyone! Don’t you understand?!”
Natasha spun around angrily, frustration about to erupt—
But the moment she saw the figure in the doorway, everything inside her stopped.
Her anger froze. Her exhaustion melted away.
Sunlight streamed in behind him, outlining a tall figure she knew better than anyone.
He wore simple, casual clothes. His face carried traces of travel fatigue.
But that gentle, familiar smile—
The one she had dreamed of countless times—
was right there.
Was it Logan?
English version
2714
Natasha stood frozen, her red lips parted slightly, as if her mind refused to accept what her eyes were seeing.
Her beautiful eyes shimmered instantly, tears gathering so quickly they blurred her vision.
“Husband?” Her voice trembled—fragile, disbelieving, almost afraid to hope.
“Natasha, I’m back.”
Logan smiled softly and opened his arms.
In
the very next heartbeat, she flew into his embrace like a bird finally
finding its way home. Her fragrance wrapped around him as she threw her
arms around his waist, holding on so tightly it felt as if she never
wanted to let go.
“You…you bastard! You finally decided to come back!” Natasha choked out, her voice breaking.
The
force of her impact made Logan—now stripped of all cultivation—stumble
and nearly fall backward. If not for his remaining physical strength,
they would’ve both hit the floor. Only then did he fully grasp how truly
mortal his body had become.
Still,
he wrapped his arms around her trembling figure, holding her as though
she were the most precious thing in the world. Guilt and tenderness
surged through him.
“I’m sorry for making you worry,” he murmured gently into her ear.
Natasha
buried her face into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent with
desperate longing. Her small fists thumped against him over and
over—soft, harmless blows that carried all the grievance, fear, and
longing she had bottled up for months.
“Where
have you been? You vanished without a word! Do you have any idea how
worried I was? I couldn’t sleep! I thought something happened to you,
you heartless jerk! Waaaah…”
Her tears soaked through his shirt, but Logan didn’t stop her. He simply held her tighter, letting her vent completely.
“It
was my fault,” he said softly. “I had to repay a favor and take care of
some things. But I promise—I’ll never disappear on you again.”
Natasha lifted her tear-stained face, looking at him with eyes full of hurt and hope. “Really? You’re not lying to me?”
“I swear—”
Before he could finish, she pressed a slender finger to his lips.
Natasha let out a watery laugh, her eyes glowing through the tears. “Who asked you to swear? Just keep your word.”
And then she rose on her toes and pressed her soft lips firmly against his.
“Mmm…”
Logan froze for a heartbeat before closing his eyes and returning the kiss—slow, gentle, overflowing with longing and love.
The
office melted into a warm, intimate glow, sunlight softening around
them as if even the world wanted to give them this moment.
But—
Bang!
The office door blasted open.
Young
Master Spanner stormed inside, face twisted with fury. He had been
turned away earlier, but stubborn arrogance pushed him to force his way
in.
And now, seeing the cold goddess he’d chased for so long wrapped in another man’s arms—
It shattered him.
“Natasha! Who the hell is this?!” he roared.
He flung the expensive bouquet of roses to the ground, petals scattering like shredded pride.
“You dare touch the woman I want? Are you looking to die?!” His eyes burned with toxic jealousy as he glared at Logan.
In an instant, the warm atmosphere collapsed.
Natasha
snapped out of her daze. Her entire face iced over as she stepped in
front of Logan protectively, her voice laced with icy disgust.
“Young Master Spanner, get out. Now.”
The sight of her shielding him tugged at Logan’s heart.
He had always been the protector.
But now—now that he was mortal—he finally understood what it felt like to be protected by someone who loved him.
He placed a reassuring hand on Natasha’s shoulder, signaling her to stay calm, then stepped forward.
Logan met Mateo Spanner’s enraged eyes with unshaken calm.
“I’m her man,” he said lightly.
“And if you think I’m courting death…you’re welcome to test that theory.”
Cultivation
or not, Logan still had enough physical skill to handle a spoiled,
wine-drained playboy who wasn’t even as strong as a normal man.
He had absolutely nothing to fear.
2715
When
Mateo heard Logan calmly say, “I am her man,” and saw Natasha not only
stay silent but look at Logan with a tenderness he had never witnessed
before, something snapped inside him. Rage surged through his veins, hot
and overwhelming, making his entire body tremble.
“You bastard! You really want to die!” Mateo roared, completely losing control as he raised his fist to attack.
“Mateo! How dare you!” Natasha’s voice cut through the room, cold and sharp enough to slice ice.
“Natasha!
What’s so good about this pretty boy? How am I worse than him? I’m
completely devoted to you!” Mateo’s expression twisted into something
both ugly and desperate.
“Enough! Stop your nonsense and get out!” Natasha snapped, her patience gone.
“You—!” Mateo choked on his rage, then shifted his fury toward Logan.
“Kid! If you’re so tough, come fight me one-on-one! Or are you the kind of coward who hides behind women?”
“A one-on-one fight?”
Logan couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips.
“What?
Scared?” Mateo sneered. “If you don’t dare accept, then kneel and
kowtow to me. Admit you’re a coward, and maybe I’ll let you go.”
Logan nodded lightly. “You’re right. I am a little scared.”
“Wha—?” Mateo blinked, stunned, then smirked even more arrogantly.
But before he could mock him, Logan added calmly,
“I’m afraid…I might accidentally kill you.”
“You fucking—!” Mateo completely lost it, his mind consumed by rage.
Without another word, he swung his fist straight at Logan’s face.
Logan moved just as the fist reached the tip of his nose.
No dramatic aura.
No flashy technique.
Just a simple lift of his right hand—swift, precise, and impossibly fast.
“Smack—!”
The crisp slap exploded through the office like a thunderclap.
Mateo
felt a force he couldn’t resist. Half his face went numb instantly; his
ears rang, his vision spun, and the next thing he knew, he was whipping
around like a top before collapsing to the floor with a heavy thud.
He passed out on the spot.
Silence swallowed the office. Even the hallway outside went still.
The
security guards and secretary who had rushed over froze, eyes wide. It
wasn’t the slap that shocked them—it was who had been slapped.
A direct descendant of the royal Spanner family.
A man no one in Oakvale dared provoke.
But Natasha didn’t care. If anything, a deep sense of relief settled in her chest.
With Logan’s status and abilities, teaching Mateo a lesson was nothing. As long as he didn’t kill him, it was fine.
A few seconds later, Mateo twitched and snapped awake.
The burning pain in his cheek and the metallic taste of blood brought everything back in an instant.
“Ahhh! I’ll kill you!” he howled.
Humiliation mixed with agony pushed him over the edge.
He
staggered to his feet, eyes bloodshot, and tore a gleaming dagger from
his waistband. With a feral roar, he lunged straight at Logan’s abdomen.
“Watch out!” Natasha shouted.
Logan’s gaze cooled.
He had only meant to discipline the man. But coming at him with a blade—aimed at a vital organ—was a clear attempt to kill.
He no longer needed to be polite.
The
moment the dagger thrust forward, Logan shifted his stance. His
movement was light, fluid, almost ghostlike as he slipped past the
blade.
His right hand snapped out like an iron clamp, seizing Mateo’s wrist.
Crack!
A sickening sound echoed.
“Ahhh—! My hand! My hand!” Mateo shrieked in agony.
The dagger clattered to the floor. Mateo’s wrist was bent at a grotesque angle, clearly broken.
Logan’s expression remained indifferent.
He lifted his leg and drove a powerful kick into Mateo’s stomach.
Bang!
Mateo
flew backward like a rag doll, slamming into the office wall before
sliding down in a heap. He curled up on the floor, shaking, tears
streaming down his face. He was in so much pain he couldn’t even muster a
scream.
“Get lost,” Logan said coldly.
Mateo’s head jerked up. His face was ghostly pale, sweat pouring down like rain. His eyes burned with fear—and resentment.
“Fine…fine!”
he spat, trembling. “Natasha! And you, pretty boy! Just wait! I, Mateo
Spanner, swear I will get revenge! My Spanner family…will never let you
go!”
Clutching his broken wrist and swallowing back sobs, he staggered out of the office, leaving behind the dagger on the floor.
He didn’t even dare look back.
2716
Inside a luxury car parked at the base of the Dash Corporation building—
The
driver froze in shock as he watched Mateo stumble out, clutching his
twisted wrist, face pale and contorted in pain. Terrified, he rushed out
of the car.
“Young Master! What happened?!”
“What
are you asking for?! Just drive! Get me to the hospital—now! It hurts!”
Mateo barked, kicking the driver before scrambling into the back seat.
The driver didn’t dare speak again. He started the car at once and sped toward the nearest hospital.
Mateo
sat hunched in the back, trembling, his eyes fixed on his misshapen
wrist. Pain throbbed through him, but the rage in his chest burned even
hotter, coiling like a venomous snake ready to strike.
Gritting his teeth, he fumbled for his phone and dialed a number with his good hand.
The call connected quickly. A calm—though clearly irritated—man’s voice came through. “Mateo? What is it? I’m in a meeting.”
“Big brother! Someone attacked me! My wrist—it’s broken!” Mateo cried, his voice thick with panic and fury.
“What?!” The man’s tone instantly sharpened. “Who has the guts to touch someone from the Spanner family on our turf?!”
“It
was that bitch Natasha’s gigolo! He’s at Dash Corporation! Big brother,
you have to help me get revenge! I want him dead! No—no, I want him to
wish he was dead! And that bitch Natasha, I’ll—”
“Enough!”
his brother snapped. “Go get your injury treated first. I understand
the situation. I’ll take care of it. Natasha… Hmph. It seems the Harmon
family is getting bolder if they think they can disrespect us. Don’t
worry—I’ll get justice for you.”
Hearing his older brother’s firm promise, Mateo finally calmed down—though the hatred in his eyes only deepened.
…
Back in the CEO’s office, security had already cleaned everything up. The bloodstains and scattered roses were gone.
Natasha signaled for her secretary and the guards to leave before closing the door.
She walked over to Logan. “Are you alright?”
Logan gave her a small, easy smile. “It was just a fly buzzing around. Hardly worth mentioning.”
“Mateo
belongs to the Spanner family—one of the capital’s royal clans. He may
just be a spoiled brat from a collateral branch, but the Spanners are
fiercely protective. His older brother, Hayes Spanner, is well-known
among their younger generation. He’s ruthless… and he won’t let this
go,” Natasha warned.
“The
royal Spanner family, huh?” Logan arched a brow and smiled, completely
unfazed. “Whatever comes, we’ll deal with it. But you—you’ve clearly
been annoyed by this pest for a while.”
Seeing that he wasn’t worried at all, Natasha let out a breath of relief.
“Yes!
He’s been driving me insane. If it weren’t for my maternal
grandfather’s ties to the Spanners, I would’ve had him thrown out ages
ago,” she huffed, a hint of coquettish frustration in her tone.
“If
he shows up again, I’ll beat him again.” Logan’s tone was casual,
almost lazy, but the underlying dominance was unmistakable.
Natasha
felt her heart warm. She slipped her arm through his. “Okay, enough of
this. You just got back—no work today. Come shopping with me!”
She picked up the internal line and told her secretary to cancel all meetings and appointments.
Then, with bright enthusiasm, she dragged Logan out for their long-overdue date.
Their first stop: the city’s most upscale luxury shopping plaza.
Glancing at Logan’s slightly worn casual outfit—still unable to hide his natural elegance—Natasha felt a pinch of heartache.
“Come on. Let’s get you something new. My man should wear nothing but the best.”
Without hesitation, she pulled him into a top-tier luxury menswear boutique.
The
staff immediately noticed Natasha’s aura—her expensive designer outfit
and unmistakable noble poise—and quickly greeted her with full
attention.
Natasha
personally picked out clothing for Logan: shirts, suits, casual slacks,
trench coats… nearly every new seasonal style in the store.
Logan didn’t care about clothes, but he let her indulge to her heart’s content.
When
he finally stepped out of the fitting room in a dark, impeccably
tailored suit, the atmosphere in the store shifted instantly—almost
brightened.
The suit framed his posture perfectly: broad shoulders, slim waist, long legs.
Despite
his understated nature, that calm, world-worn steadiness in him blended
unexpectedly well with the elite sharpness of the suit, creating a
unique kind of charisma.
“Sir,
you look incredible in this,” one of the female assistants said
sincerely. Even seasoned professionals like them couldn’t help but be
impressed.
Natasha’s eyes shimmered with amazement. Her expression glowed with pride.
She
walked up to him, straightened his collar with gentle fingers, and
admired him from all angles. “Not bad at all. I really do have great
taste.”
The
female staff exchanged glances—the moment they took in Natasha’s noble
beauty and effortless grace, any fleeting thoughts they might’ve had
disappeared.
Yes… only a woman like her could stand beside a man like him.
2717
After
finishing with the men’s clothing, Natasha still wasn’t satisfied. She
grabbed Dustin’s hand and pulled him into the Chanel boutique next door,
excited to pick out a few new bags for herself.
While
Natasha was absorbed in browsing, a young man swaggered over. He wore a
garishly patterned shirt, a thick gold chain, and an expression full of
self-importance.
“Beautiful
lady, you have great taste. That bag just arrived—it’s a limited
edition. It suits you perfectly,” he said with a greasy smile.
His eyes roamed over Natasha with open greed, completely disregarding Dustin standing beside her.
Natasha didn’t even look up. She continued examining the handbag in her hand as if he didn’t exist.
But
the rich kid kept going, convinced he was being charming. “Gorgeous,
let’s be friends. Pick anything you like today—it’s on me.”
As he spoke, he shot Dustin a smug, taunting glance, showing off.
Natasha’s expression instantly soured. She snapped coldly, “Get lost.”
The
rich kid’s smile stiffened. He was a well-known young master in this
area, and no woman had ever dared talk to him like that.
His face darkened. “Miss, don’t be so rude. Do you even know who I am? How dare you talk to me like that?”
Before
Natasha could answer, Dustin stepped forward, placing her behind him
with a protective gesture. With a faint, almost amused smile, he asked,
“Oh? Then who are you? Go on. Tell me.”
Seeing Dustin speak, the rich kid puffed up even more. He lifted his chin, looking down at Dustin with disdain.
“Hmph!
Listen carefully. My dad is the chairman of one of the biggest
companies in this city! If you know what’s good for you, get out of
here. Otherwise, I can make you disappear with one word.”
Natasha and Dustin exchanged a look—one filled with the same helpless resignation.
These spoiled rich kids really were everywhere.
Persistent and annoying—just like flies.
“What’s all the noise about?”
A clear, elegant female voice drifted in from the entrance.
Everyone turned.
A
woman walked in wearing a soft lavender dress. Her beauty was striking,
her bearing cold and refined. In terms of looks, she was easily on par
with Natasha—but their energies were completely different. Natasha was
fiery, vibrant; this woman was icy and untouchable.
The moment he saw her, the rich kid’s arrogance evaporated. He rushed over eagerly, plastering on a flattering smile.
“Sister Dahlia! Why are you here? It’s nothing serious—I just ran into some jerk…”
Behind Dustin, Natasha narrowed her eyes the moment she saw the woman. She muttered under her breath, annoyed:
“You’ve got to be kidding me… of all people to run into.”
Dustin looked at her too, his gaze flickering in mild surprise.
What a small world.
But after that brief moment, he quickly composed himself.
Truthfully,
he no longer felt anything when he saw his ex-wife. Once, they had
shared a marriage. Once, there had been love, resentment, hurt—but time
had washed all of that away. What remained was barely more than a faint
shadow.
To him now, Dahlia was nothing more than another stranger in a crowded mall.
“How… how is it him?”
Dahlia’s irritation at the rich kid vanished the instant her gaze landed on Dustin. She froze in place.
In this vast city, after all their silence and distance… they still crossed paths here, in the middle of a luxury boutique.
Even Dahlia, with her famously calm and analytical mind, felt the faint tremor of fate.
Her expression shifted rapidly—shock, confusion, mixed with an emotion she didn’t dare acknowledge.
As
she looked at Dustin—still handsome, but now carrying a mature
steadiness—memories she had buried long ago surged up unbidden.
Their broken marriage.
Her own harsh, decisive actions.
The hurt she caused him.
A wave of guilt washed over her like a cold tide.
Part of her wanted to walk over and apologize—to finally say the words she never had the courage to say back then.
But the words lodged in her throat.
Now, Dahlia was a prominent figure in the royal Mosey family—admired, respected, watched by countless eyes.
Identity. Status. Pride.
All of them formed invisible shackles holding her back.
And then she noticed Natasha—equally beautiful, confident, and clearly close to Dustin.
A subtle, bittersweet ache spread through her chest.
“You’re still up to your old tricks,” Natasha muttered, eyes narrowing.
Of
all people, Natasha understood this feeling best. When you truly love
someone, you notice the tiniest lingering looks from anyone else.
And this wasn’t just any woman.
This was Dustin’s ex-wife. A woman with whom he shared a painful history.
Seeing Dahlia stand frozen, staring at Dustin with that complicated, unreadable expression—
Natasha’s instincts screamed.
Without
hesitation, she stepped forward, slipping half a body’s width in front
of Dustin, subtly but firmly asserting her place by his side.
2718
“Mrs. Nicholson, what a coincidence.”
Natasha’s
voice was cool, carrying a touch of polite distance. “But isn’t it a
little inappropriate for you to stare at my husband like that?”
“Husband?” Dahlia snapped out of her daze. She smoothed down her emotions, returning to her calm, icy composure.
A
faint smile appeared on her lips—light, elegant, and tinged with
disbelief. “Ms. Harmon, if I recall correctly… you’re not married yet.
Where did this husband suddenly come from?”
Natasha had clearly been waiting for this question.
She
immediately hooked her arm through Dustin’s, leaning in close as if to
make a point. Tilting her pretty face up, she said clearly and
confidently, “He’s my husband. We’ll get our marriage certificate
tomorrow.”
Her declaration was like tossing a stone into still water—the ripples in Dahlia’s heart were impossible to hide.
Her
smile faltered for just a moment. She turned to Dustin again, her gaze
deepening with complicated emotions. After a brief pause, she managed to
respond in an even tone:
“Then… congratulations.”
“Thank
you for your blessing, Mrs. Nicholson.” Natasha’s smile bloomed—bright,
triumphant, and edged with satisfaction. “When we hold our wedding,
we’ll be sure to send you an invitation. You must come and show your
support.”
Those words landed in Dahlia’s chest like another sharp blade.
She
frowned slightly—irritation flickering across her face—yet she found
she had no grounds to object. All she could do was swallow her
frustration.
At
that moment, the rich second-generation brat who had been ignored for
ages slowly inched closer. He swallowed hard and asked cautiously,
“Sister Dahlia… do you know these two people?”
Dahlia gave him a bland glance. “Two old friends. Why?”
The moment he heard “old friends” paired with Dahlia’s expression, a chill ran down the rich kid’s spine.
He might be a spoiled playboy, but he wasn’t dumb.
Dahlia
was now a powerful figure in the royal Mosey family—a woman even his
father had to treat with respect. If she called them “old friends” with
such a subtle tone…
Then these two were people he absolutely could not afford to offend.
He
silently thanked the heavens he hadn’t escalated things earlier.
Immediately, he plastered on a fawning smile, bowing repeatedly.
“Oh
goodness! A huge misunderstanding! We’re practically family and I
didn’t even realize—how embarrassing! I offended you both earlier. I’m
so sorry! I’ll leave right now, I won’t disturb your reunion!”
Natasha waved him off dismissively. “Get out of here. You’re blocking my sight.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” The rich kid fled as if his life depended on it.
Once he was gone, the atmosphere shifted again—dense with things left unsaid.
Dahlia drew in a breath and looked at Dustin once more. After a moment of deliberation, she finally spoke:
“Dustin… do you have time? How about we have a meal together? There are some things I want to talk to you about.”
Dustin frowned slightly and was just about to decline.
But Natasha beat him to it, beaming brightly. “Sure! Mrs. Nicholson personally invited us—how could we refuse?”
Dustin
shot her a surprised look, wondering what she was thinking. With her
personality, she should’ve been eager to avoid Dahlia entirely.
Natasha felt his questioning gaze and discreetly squeezed his arm.
She had her reasons.
Rather
than letting Dahlia pull any tricks in secret, it was better to
confront things directly—to assert her territory, to set boundaries
clearly.
And frankly… she wanted Dahlia to see with her own eyes just how extraordinary Dustin had become.
Let her feel the sting of knowing she misjudged him—of realizing how wrong she was back then.
This meal was the perfect opportunity.
…
A few minutes later, the three of them walked into a Haidilao hot pot restaurant in the mall.
Two
breathtaking women—one icy and elegant, the other radiant and
stunning—walking side by side with a man whose presence and looks made
him stand out in any crowd.
The restaurant’s return rate hit nearly 100%.
Wherever they walked, heads turned. Conversations stopped. Their presence was like a spotlight sweeping through the room.
After the waiter seated them, whispers began to ripple through the restaurant:
“Holy crap! Look over there! Those two women are insane—total goddesses.”
“Dude, one’s a cold beauty and the other’s a glamorous queen. Who is that guy?”
“Forget
one beauty—this guy’s sitting with two at the same table?! No, eating
hot pot with them! Is there no justice left in the world?”
“I’m jealous… did he save the universe in his past life?”
“Look at him. Maybe he’s some rich young master slumming it?”
“I don’t buy it. He looks too low-key. Just a bit handsome with a good vibe—ugh, I’m getting more jealous the more I talk.”
“Tsk
tsk… having two wives’ worth of blessings isn’t something mortals can
handle. Look at the three of them—doesn’t the atmosphere seem tense?”
English version
2719
Even
though the surrounding whispers were kept deliberately low, Dustin
still picked up a few with his sharp hearing. He remained calm, unfazed,
and didn’t bother responding.
Natasha,
on the other hand, seemed to bask in the attention—especially the
envious stares from the female customers. It made her even more pleased
with herself. Every so often, she would lean in to serve Dustin food or
pour him water with obvious affection.
Dahlia
kept her usual cool, distant demeanor, seemingly unaffected by the
chatter around them. Only once in a while did she lift her eyes to
glance at the two people sitting across from her, their effortless
chemistry dimming her gaze just a little.
Just then, a young waiter approached carefully with a pot of boiling hot pot broth.
Maybe he was distracted by the sight of Natasha’s and Dahlia’s beauty, but he suddenly lost focus—and his footing.
“Ah—!”
The
waiter let out a startled gasp as he stumbled, the steaming pot in his
hands tilting dangerously. In the next second, the scalding broth was
about to spill directly onto Natasha and Dahlia, who were seated on the
outer side.
Both women’s faces drained of color!
At the crucial moment, Dustin—who had been sitting quietly until then—moved.
He
reacted with lightning speed. His right hand shot out to steady the
waiter, while his left caught the edge of the pot, stopping the
violently shaking broth in mid-tilt.
A burst of precise strength stabilized everything. Only a few drops of red oil splashed onto the tablecloth—no one was harmed.
It all happened in an instant.
By the time the people around them processed what occurred, the danger had already passed.
The waiter, pale and trembling, apologized again and again.
Natasha exhaled in relief, patting her chest before glaring sharply at the waiter.
Dahlia’s
eyes lingered on Dustin’s quick, steady movements. Her heart skipped a
beat. A thought she had been trying so hard to suppress quietly
surfaced—then spread uncontrollably.
He… leaned toward me just now.
He was so fast. Does he still care about me?
Her
lashes trembled faintly as she lowered her gaze. The calm she had been
forcing on herself shattered under Dustin’s sudden, instinctive act of
protection.
She began to spin her own explanations, trying to pull something meaningful out of his otherwise neutral expression.
Maybe… I still matter to him? Even if just a little?
The
manager replaced the frightened waiter, and after a brief interruption,
the hot pot finally started to boil. Red oil bubbled as the spicy aroma
filled the air.
But the tension at the table was hotter—and far more complicated—than anything simmering in the pot.
Natasha
picked up her chopsticks first. With practiced ease, she dipped a slice
of marbled beef in the bubbling broth. Instead of placing it in her own
bowl, she dipped it into the sauce and lifted it to Dustin’s lips.
“Here,
darling, try this. Their signature fatty beef—super tender.” Natasha
beamed, her eyes soft and full of affection. Her voice was sweet enough
to turn heads—and the way she emphasized the word husband was
unmistakable. She wanted Dahlia to hear every syllable.
Dustin
gave her an exasperated but helpless look. In front of
outsiders—especially in front of Dahlia—he obviously wasn’t going to
push Natasha away.
He opened his mouth, took the beef, chewed, and nodded. “Mm. It’s really good.”
“Right?”
Natasha’s smile grew even brighter, practically glowing. She added
cilantro and garlic to his dipping sauce with a natural familiarity. “I
know you like it this way. Eat more.”
She
barely touched her own food. She was constantly cooking tripe for him,
scooping shrimp balls, or wiping imaginary grease from the corner of his
mouth.
Every gesture was intimate—fully claiming him.
Dustin
simply let her fuss over him, occasionally placing a piece of her
favorite greens into her bowl. Each small gesture earned him an even
sweeter smile and a loving look from Natasha.
Their easy warmth felt almost tangible.
Across
from them, Dahlia watched everything quietly, not missing a single
detail. Her fingers clenched her chopsticks a little too tightly,
knuckles turning faintly white.
The premium beef in front of her was simmering in chili oil, but it tasted like wax in her mouth.
Once
upon a time, she had been the one sitting beside Dustin—the one he
treated gently. Their marriage ended, and she knew she bore some
responsibility. But watching another woman so naturally enjoy everything
that used to belong to her…
That faint bitterness, disappointment, and quiet jealousy pricked at her heart like tiny needles.
She forced her eyes down, staring at her dipping sauce, trying to steady herself—but her emotions refused to settle.
Dustin’s
soft patience with Natasha contrasted sharply with the distant silence
that had taken over their relationship toward the end of their marriage.
Had he truly found someone better for him after the divorce?
The thought twisted in her chest, making her feel even worse.
2720
“President
Nicholson, don’t just stare at it. This beef tripe is really fresh—try
it.” Natasha finally seemed to notice Dahlia’s quietness.
Her tone was warm, but her smile held a subtle hint of triumph.
“Thank
you.” Dahlia lifted her eyes, forced a polite smile, and picked up a
piece of beef tripe. But her throat felt tight, making it hard to
swallow anything at all.
Trying
to ease the suffocating awkwardness—and desperate to ask about
Dustin—she found a topic. “Dustin, I heard you were away for quite a
while recently. Did you go handle something important?”
Before
Dustin could answer, Natasha cut in proudly, as if declaring ownership
over his schedule. “Yes! My Dustin is amazing. He went to take care of
something very important—and he even saved the Emperor! Didn’t you,
husband?”
As she said that, she plopped another beef ball onto Dustin’s plate with practiced ease.
Dahlia froze.
Saved the Emperor?
She
always knew Dustin wasn’t ordinary, but she never imagined he had
reached the level where his actions could influence the highest center
of power in Dragonmarsh.
Her gaze toward Dustin grew increasingly complicated.
Dustin simply offered a quiet “Mm,” not bothering to elaborate, as if such world-shaking matters were nothing to talk about.
His calm detachment made the distance between them feel even wider.
The meal dragged on under this strange tension.
Natasha
led the conversation effortlessly—sometimes acting intimately with
Dustin, sometimes asking Dahlia about her recent life in a way that
sounded like concern but felt more like subtle bragging.
Dustin
stayed silent for the most part, responding only when Natasha spoke to
him. Toward Dahlia, he maintained a polite but unmistakable distance.
The chatter around them never stopped.
“Did you see that? The woman in red keeps putting food in his bowl. She’s so attentive!”
“The woman in white looks upset… she barely said anything.”
“That guy is something else. Two gorgeous women at one table, and he’s still eating calmly!”
“Definitely a love triangle—look at the vibe!”
“If I could have dinner with even one of them, I’d give up ten years of my life!”
Their voices blended with the din, adding another layer to the already delicate situation.
Dahlia
felt her composure slipping. She had come today hoping to talk to
Dustin—to apologize, to resolve some of her tangled emotions—but
Natasha’s presence was like an unbreakable barrier blocking every
attempt.
And Dustin’s aloofness left her completely at a loss.
She
watched Natasha lean close again, whispering something into Dustin’s
ear. He tilted his head to listen, the corners of his mouth lifting into
a faint smile.
The scene was harmonious… dazzling… and painful.
Dahlia
grabbed the plum juice beside her and took a long drink. The cold
liquid slid down her throat, but it couldn’t cool the sudden surge of
frustration in her chest.
Finally, when she felt she couldn’t endure any longer, she drew a steadying breath and set down her chopsticks.
“I’m done.”
She
picked up a tissue and wiped her mouth with quiet elegance, trying to
hold onto her last bit of dignity. “I’m going to the restroom.”
She needed to escape—just for a moment—to breathe, to calm the chaos swirling inside her.
As
Dahlia walked away, a bit faster than usual, Natasha’s lips curled into
a sly little smile, like a fox guarding its territory successfully.
She leaned close to Dustin and whispered smugly, “So? Did I do well? Did I upset her?”
Dustin shot her a helpless look and gently flicked her nose. “You…”
There was no anger in his voice—only indulgence.
Natasha giggled, pleased with her victory.
In
the restroom, Dahlia splashed cold water onto her face. The pale
reflection staring back at her, eyes slightly unfocused, stirred a mix
of emotions she couldn’t fully name.
She kept telling herself it was over. Everything between them was in the past.
Dustin had moved on. He had someone new—someone who clearly made him happy.
Dahlia had no right to interfere.
No right to feel anything.
But then… why does it still hurt so much?
The
image of Dustin leaping to protect them earlier, and the soft, patient
smile he showed Natasha, replayed again and again in her mind.
She
took several deep breaths, trying to steady herself. She fixed her
makeup, put her cool, aloof mask back on, and stepped out of the
restroom.
When
she returned to the table, she found Natasha holding her phone up for
Dustin to see, the two of them leaning close together, sharing a quiet
laugh.
The sight pierced straight through Dahlia’s chest once again
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