Chapter 2

an House. Stefan input the code and entered the apartment. This was the place he had bought with Margery, intended to be their future marital home. Now, it seemed that the plan was unnecessary. He had returned to collect the few clothes and belongings he’d left behind. For Stefan, love was selfish. There was no room for a third person. When his exclusive devotion and loyalty were met with deceit and the rekindling of an old flame, he chose to leave without hesitation. To hesitate was to lose. Quickly, Stefan packed his clothes and essentials into a suitcase. Everything else—the odds and ends, the photographs—he tossed into a metal basin and set ablaze. Thick smoke billowed. In the roaring flames, the reflection showed a face of utter calm and cold detachment. A sudden memory made Stefan pull an elegant box from his pocket. Inside lay an exquisite diamond ring. He recalled Margery’s words during a prison visit soon after his incarceration. “Stefan, once you’re out, we’ll get married.” It was because of those words he had planned to propose tonight. But now, the brilliant sparkle of the ring seemed harsh, mocking, as if laughing at his naivety and foolishness. Thud. He tossed the ring casually. It traced an arc before landing in the fiery basin. Without a backward glance, Stefan turned and walked out. Outside, a light drizzle had begun to fall. The dim glow of streetlights illuminated the sparsely populated sidewalk. An occasional car sped by, tires splashing through puddles. Stefan walked alone, dragging his suitcase. A sense of aimlessness settled in. He didn’t know where to go. The truth was, he had no home. He was an orphan, raised in a state institution. “Better start on the tasks Mayson gave me. The first one seems tied to the Stewart family… Something about fulfilling an old pact.” He retrieved a sealed contract from his person—the token Mayson had instructed him to present at the Stewart Mansion. “The Stewart family of River City…” Stefan knew the Stewarts were a prominent, wealthy clan. He had no idea what agreement existed between Mayson and them. He’d planned to visit after settling things with Margery. Now, that timeline had moved up. ***** The Stewart Mansion was a massive estate spanning dozens of acres, divided into four major compounds. It featured a golf course, an artificial lake, a helipad, and more—a testament to the family’s immense wealth. At that moment, in the West Compound Villa, Chuck Stewart and his wife, Audrey Archer, were hosting an elderly man who exuded an air of serene, almost ethereal refinement. “Mr. Hale,” Chuck said, hope shining in his eyes. “Our daughter is in your hands. If you can awaken her, you will be rewarded beyond measure.” Beside him, Audrey pleaded, her voice earnest, “Mr. Hale, please, spare no effort. She’s been unconscious for half a year now…” Her voice choked slightly. The refined elderly man was Valka Hale, a highly renowned master physician in the country. Chuck and Audrey’s daughter, Sara Stewart, had been in a car accident six months prior and remained in a coma. The family had consulted all the top hospitals to no avail. Finally, using connections and a considerable sum, Chuck had managed to invite Valka. “Please rest assured. I will do my utmost,” Valka replied calmly. “Thank you, Mr. Hale!” the couple said. Just then, a servant entered and announced that the family patriarch, Micah Stewart, had summoned all members of the three branches to the “Hidden Dragon Hall”. An important guest had arrived. “What guest warrants summoning everyone?” Chuck frowned. He was the third son, with two older brothers. “Let’s go see. Mr. Hale can begin his examination of Sara in the meantime,” Chuck said to his wife, and they headed for the hall. ***** When Chuck and Audrey entered, they saw his eldest brother, Hewitt Stewart, and second brother, Frazier Stewart, along with their families, were already present. Seated in the place of honor was an old man with a full head of silver hair, yet whose eyes sparkled with vigor—the Stewart patriarch, Micah. Next to Micah sat a young man. The young man sipped a cup of coffee, appearing completely at ease, his demeanor casual. His complexion was slightly pale, but his features were sharply defined. His clothing was simple, even somewhat faded. This was Stefan. Micah held a worn contract, his aged eyes scrutinizing it carefully. After verification, he confirmed it was the original document. Micah took a deep breath and looked at Stefan. “Mr. Bryant… may I ask, how is Mr. Moss…” “You mean Mayson? He eats and drinks well. No problems,” Stefan replied casually, offering no further details. Before his release, Mayson had strictly instructed him not to reveal his whereabouts. “Twenty years ago,” Micah began slowly, “our family faced a great calamity. My father was still alive then. It was he who invited Mr. Moss to intervene, and thus our crisis was resolved.” He paused. “Afterward, Mr. Moss and my father made an agreement—this very contract.” “Mr. Stewart,” Stefan asked, curious. He hadn’t read the contents. “What exactly was the agreement?” Micah raised his eyes, sweeping his gaze over the assembled members of the three branches. Then he spoke, “Back then, they agreed that when a disciple of Mr. Moss’, holding this contract, came to the Stewart family in the future… a lady of the Stewarts would marry that disciple.” “What?!” The declaration sent a shockwave through the hall. Members of all three branches stared at each other in disbelief. Stefan’s jaw almost dropped. Over the past three years, he had cultivated immense mental fortitude. Yet Micah’s words managed to surprise him. So, Mayson’s intention… is for me to marry a Stewart woman? Had things not turned out as they did with Margery, he might have found this impossible. But now… Having resolved to sever all ties, the idea seemed inconsequential. He could treat it as completing a task. As for love… he no longer needed it. Whether any emotional foundation existed was irrelevant. “Grandfather!” a young woman’s voice rang out, sharp and indignant. “Are you saying that based on the paper, he gets to marry one of us? Look at him! What qualifications does he have?” The speaker was young and beautiful, in her early twenties, dressed in a Chanel gown. Her face was twisted in disdain as she glared at Stefan. This was Hewitt’s daughter Zoey Stewart. The moment she heard the pronouncement, she panicked. As the eldest granddaughter, she would be the most likely candidate. Looking at Stefan’s shabby appearance—thinking he could latch onto the Stewart family with just a piece of paper? She would absolutely refuse. “Grandfather,” a young man beside her chimed in. He was her brother. “Not just anyone can become a Stewart son-in-law. Have we checked his background? If he’s… unclean, having him would make us a laughingstock.” Next to the indignant young woman, her brother spoke up. His name was Hank Stewart. “Father,” Hewitt spoke up firmly. “This contract is from twenty years ago. Can it still be valid?” “Silence!” Micah’s cold shout echoed, his face etched with authority. “An agreement was made. Can the Stewart family now go back on its word? Moreover, if not for Mr. Moss’ aid, who knows what state we’d be in? Would you even be here, enjoying your lives?” The second branch, Frazier and his wife, lowered their eyes, remaining silent. They only had a son, so this didn’t concern them. As for Chuck and Audrey… they exchanged a worried glance. They only had one daughter, Sara. But Sara was currently in coma. Surely Micah wouldn’t expect Sara to marry this man? “Father,” an elegant woman beside Hewitt spoke. This was his wife Celeste Becker. “You can’t possibly intend for Zoey to marry him, can you?” “According to tradition,” Micah said, glancing at Zoey, “since Mr. Bryant is to marry a Stewart daughter, and she is the eldest granddaughter, it is most appropriate for her to fulfill this duty.” “Grandfather! I refuse!” The young woman’s voice was shrill. “I’d rather die than marry him!” The heated arguments in the hall fell on deaf ears for Stefan. His attention was completely captured by something else. He could sense it—from a specific direction within the vast mansion, wisps of a unique, special energy resonated with his body. They were being drawn in by his constitution, flowing imperceptibly into him, converging towards his martial meridians. “This is… “Profound Cold Earth Vein? The Stewart Mansion actually sits atop a Profound Cold Earth Vein?” Shock and realization dawned in Stefan’s eyes. D*mn… So this is why Mayson wanted me to come here…