“Why, if it isn’t my good grandson. Rushing over again to show your filial piety?”

Zhou Jiuyu approached Tong Che with a gentle smile.

“Sir, you truly are prescient! I really am here to serve you with devotion. After returning yesterday, I kept thinking—I hadn’t properly hosted you. So… here I am!”

Tong Che chuckled sheepishly, head bowed. Though nearly Zhou Jiuyu’s height, his posture made him seem a full head shorter.

Zhou Jiuyu blinked in mild surprise. He’d expected anger. One glance at Tong Che’s demeanor told him everything.

“You actually came for the ‘Sword God,’ didn’t you? But he’s gone now. So you’re asking *me* for help?”

“Truly… nothing escapes your eyes, Sir.”

Tong Che forced a flattering smile, his tone dripping with obsequious respect.

He hadn’t approached the genuinely powerful Nan Mengling. He understood: though Miss Nan embodied the domineering female lead archetype, the one who nurtured her, guided her to topple Lord Shao and the Sword God—was none other than this “Young Master Zhou” at her side.

*This* was the patron he truly needed.

Mysterious origins. Unfathomable strength. Spending fortunes like water. Keeping a Ninth Tier Sword Maiden as a personal maid. *This* was a real big shot.

“Perfect. I have a favor requiring your connections,” Zhou Jiuyu said, eyes crinkling.

Tong Che’s eyes lit up. “What task, Sir? Your grandson will spare no effort!”

“Know the ‘Sanctum’ in City One? I need a one-year access pass.”

At Zhou Jiuyu’s words, Tong Che’s expression shifted slightly—a flicker of hesitation. Still, he gritted his teeth and nodded. “I’ll mobilize every connection to secure it, Sir. But… the new lord of City Four takes office within a month. If I’m targeted then…”

“Then take his place.” Zhou Jiuyu’s voice remained calm.

“…” Tong Che’s pupils tightened. He swallowed hard, glancing cautiously upward. “Sir… city lord isn’t a title one simply claims. Ninth Tier strength is required. My talent’s plateaued—I fear Eighth Tier is my lifelong limit.”

“Secure the Sanctum spot. I’ll give you the complete breathing technique manual.”

Disappointment dimmed Tong Che’s eyes. He’d hoped for a world-shaking boon, not just a manual. *But what if this is a test?*

Ninth Tier… a realm he could only dream of. The pinnacle he craved.

No other patron remained.

Gritting his teeth, he knelt again, fists clasped. “Sir, this grandson wants no manual! Serving you is my honor!”

*The manual means little. Sir’s favor is the lifeline.*

Zhou Jiuyu’s eyes flickered with fresh surprise.

“Do well. You won’t be shortchanged.”

Zhou Jiuyu patted his shoulder. A slip of paper materialized in his palm—a phone number. “Call when done.”

“Yes, Sir!” Tong Che tucked it away carefully, spine chilling.

*Materializing objects… Could his ability be the mythical spatial-type power?*

The vanished ten billion. This slip. Only one explanation fit.

…

Back in the off-road vehicle, Zhou Jiuyu tossed the sword manual to Nan Mengling. “Same style as yours. It’ll elevate you to top-tier. Next: mountain road to City Five, then high-speed rail to City One.”

“Thank you… Young Master.” She hugged the manual, voice soft. “But… can Tong Che be trusted?”

Zhou Jiuyu shrugged. “Trust doesn’t matter. If he delivers, he’s rewarded. If not—we gained an obedient grandson.”

“Oh.” Nan Mengling settled quietly into the passenger seat, landscapes flashing past her window. Scene after scene reflected in her eyes, yet none touched her.

*Just leave everything to Young Master.*

*He’ll script the drama’s start and end. She need only be a docile puppet on a string.*

Zhou Jiuyu drove on, noticing her unusual silence since descending the mountain. She’d always been quiet—but after two days of closeness, this depth of quiet felt wrong.

Mountains rolled by. No carsickness this time. She sat still, fingertips tracing the window as forests blurred past. Confusion clouded her gaze… deeply. The mountain had shown her her true self. And shattered her.

Zhou Jiuyu eased off the accelerator, glancing at his maid.

If she was once a demure girl, she was now a melancholic young woman.

You could never guess what haunted her heart.

“Dusk falls. We camp here by the cliff.”

He parked, materialized two tents and a crackling fire. He turned to Nan Mengling on her wooden stool.

“Barbecue tonight. If you need solitude after today… sleep in the other tent.”

She didn’t reply. Just stared into the flames. Then rose.

A sudden gust snuffed the fire.

Wind snatched one tent away—yet left the other standing perfectly.

Zhou Jiuyu frowned. “Foolish maid. Stop misusing your ability.”

“Young Master… come.”

Nan Mengling unzipped the remaining tent, sat at the edge, and patted the space beside her.

Zhou Jiuyu hesitated, then sat—intent to listen.

The moment he settled, his breath caught.

The black spaghetti-strap dress slipped from her shoulders. Porcelain skin gleamed in the dim light. Her upper body bare save for a simple white bra with lace trim. Her hand guided his firmly over her heart.

“Let’s do it, Young Master.”

Her gaze held his—utterly serious.

Zhou Jiuyu’s eyes widened. He yanked his hand back, pushing to retreat—but an invisible force pinned him. He could only sit up…

*Sit up?* Weren’t they at the tent’s edge?

Clarity struck.

He turned.

A familiar yet strange room.

Dawn light filtering through the window.

He… woke up.