After Ming Zhi left the Holy Tower, she heard that a rebellion had broken out in the city.

"I heard it was Mr. Kemov who killed him. He ripped his heart out with his own hands."

"He betrayed his master and sided with the rebels. Because of him, all of us are being punished."

"Quiet, Ming Zhi is listening…"

"So what? This woman doesn't have enough special privileges already? Who knows what makes her so special? Other people's entire families got executed, her man also got slaughtered, yet she and her kids are perfectly fine."

Ming Zhi was sewing clothes for Ming Chen. Her hands kept moving, but warm tears slipped down her chin and dripped onto the brand-new fabric, leaving a dark ,wet stain.

"Come on, Ming Rui, take your sister and get out of here." Ming Zhi did everything she could to get the children away from this prison.

"Go. Just leave this place." She said the exact words to the young man in front of her now.

Looking at him, for some reason, Ming Zhi thought of that rainy night eight years ago.

The man had apologized repeatedly, filled with regret, but it was already too late.

Ming Zhi couldn't bear to see that expression again, even though she was very curious about the young man's connection to this place.

"What do you mean leave? I'm already here."

At the top of the tower, a mocking laugh echoed down.

Ruan Xing looked up and saw a withered man standing above, looking down from a distance. He was wrapped tightly in a cloak, the same kind as Qian Hua's.

It was obvious at a glance that they were from the same group.

Fu Gui: [That's Yin Zhu. A Tower Knight. His abilities are decay and life absorption. He might look like he's in his forties or fifties, but he's actually over a hundred years old. Pollutants cannot survive long under him. If you're not careful, you'll get drained dry. Don't let him touch you. He's impossible to shake off, like a parasite that clings to bones.]

Ruan Xing carefully observed the man and said, "The Tower really does accept anyone. You're one step away from a coffin, and you're still doing this job."

His voice was not loud, but the insult was sharp.

A stifled chuckle came from behind Yin Zhu. It was Lloyd.

That damned pollutant!

Yin Zhu glared at him and threw a ball of black light.

Lloyd's face changed instantly. Thick veins bulged from his neck, and a muffled groan came from his mouth. Soon, black marks began to crawl across the exposed parts of his skin, wriggling like insects, clearly in great pain.

Fu Gui: [This is how he punishes pollutants? Seems like he has done it a lot. What a petty guy.]

Just a laugh, and he punished one of his own. Those under him probably hated him to death.

Ruan Xing's eyes shifted slightly, and he looked at the man again.

"You have the key with you? What's your relationship with Fu Zhi?" Yin Zhu asked.

He stood upright, then tilted forward at a 90-degree angle as he went down the railing. Under his body, his black legs were replaced by jointed limbs, like a spider. The upper half was human, but the lower half was eight black legs.

However, the level of pollution on him wasn't that high.

Fu Gui whispered nervously: [This guy is vicious to others and even more so to himself. Those scars are probably self-inflicted. Just like Will, he's a total madman.]

Ruan Xing took a few steps back to increase the distance.

Yin Zhu snorted coldly, and then several black tendrils shot out from beneath his belly, lunging toward Ruan Xing.

The young man's silence only worsened his mood.

Yin Zhu aimed for his legs. The tendrils twisted to trap and crush them, but Ruan Xing moved swiftly. He easily dodged the attack and even shot one tendril with a black arrow. The corrosive hiss made Yin Zhu's face twist.

Nearby, Ming Zhi screamed as one of the black tendrils struck her. She was thrown aside and landed hard on the floor, black marks forming on her arm.

Now that he was closer, Yin Zhu finally saw Ruan Xing's face clearly. When their eyes met, a chill ran down his spine.

His pupils shook, and he froze.

"You… who are you?"

His tone was full of disbelief, as if he had just seen something impossible.

Ruan Xing looked up, his voice ice-cold. "Who are you?"

Yin Zhu felt his scalp go numb. That idiot Lloyd! Why had he not seen through this disguise? But if this really was that person, or his descendant, Lloyd probably wouldn't be able to tell anyway.

Yin Zhu refused to believe the worst. He forced a smile. "I think there must be some misunderstanding here."

Ruan Xing didn't even look at him. His eyes turned back toward the top of the tower.

He slowly crouched down, placing his right hand on the ground.

Suddenly, a bright light surged from the floor, illuminating everything. It lit up Ruan Xing's face from below, making his expression unreadable.

He slowly said, "The only misunderstanding here is that I overestimated your bottom line. Not only did you steal things, but you also even planned to take over my home."

His tone was calm, but the fury beneath it was overwhelming.

With a whoosh, the light grew brighter. Then, as if triggering some kind of mechanism, the mushroom lamps lining the wall, lamps Yin Zhu had studied for years but could never activate, suddenly lit up with a cheerful "pop~," glowing warmly as if welcoming their true master.

Spiraling light ran from the base of the tower all the way to the top. The mushrooms stretched their bodies, and the lights gathered like stars in the night sky.

The entire black tower seemed to come alive, rejoicing in the return of its real owner.

It was nothing like when the thieves were here.

Ming Zhi looked up, as if transported back to eight years ago.

That man had also lit up the whole tower, standing alone beneath the starry glow, his figure full of solitude.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. Could it be that eight years ago, the one he had been apologizing to... was this person in front of her now?

If that man knew they had finally met again after eight years, he would be happy, wouldn't he?

The lights revealed every detail inside the tower. Nothing had changed since Ruan Xing left. They didn't damage it, or more like, they couldn't.

The long spiral staircase wound its way up from the base, reaching the top.

Without the Tower Spirit's light, many details were hard to see. But now, the tower rejoiced in his return.

In all this time, only this young man had ever been its true and eternal master.

Fu Gui let out a dramatic "Wow!" The Mycelium, perched on his head, trembled and bent its body excitedly, letting out a joyful sound.

Ruan Xing's gaze swept the area. When he spotted a painting nearby, he paused slightly. Had there always been a portrait of himself here?

He couldn't remember clearly.

But the paintings confirmed his identity and explained how Yin Zhu and Lloyd recognized him.

He looked at Yin Zhu. "Anything else you want to say?"

How could it be a misunderstanding? The real owner had returned in person!

Yin Zhu looked around at the lights. His expression turned blank. He no longer bothered to act. He sneered coldly. "So what if you are back? You're a failure. If you cannot even protect your own things, don't blame others for taking them."

He had barely finished speaking when a blur flashed before his eyes. Several black arrows shot toward him from the darkness, swift and hard to dodge.

His expression changed. Even though he had prepared himself, he had clearly underestimated the strength of this "owner."

Meanwhile, Ming Rui was growing anxious. He had been waiting as an audience for a long time, but Ruan Xing hadn't returned yet.

He knew his mother worked at the Holy City, but she never told him exactly where. All he could remember was the faint smell of sea breeze on her when she came home, suggesting she worked by the ocean.

He also knew that anyone who entered the Holy City came back as a powerful pollutant. It was vastly different from ordinary people who mutated at the first stage.

Destroying that place was basically equal to destroying the Holy City.

Ruan Xing wanted to explore, while Ming Rui only wanted to save his mother. But he didn't see that familiar figure today.

"Who are you looking for?"

A strong figure approached. It was Kemov.

Ming Rui's former master now stood before him. Instinctively, he wanted to kneel, but the pounding of his heart stopped him. Even so, his jaw trembled uncontrollably.

It had taken great courage to return here. Ming Rui didn't want to be a coward.

He clenched his palm tightly and forced himself to calm down. "No one. You must be mistaken."

Kemov narrowed his eyes. "Your voice sounds familiar."

He had a sharp nose, but Ming Rui bet that he had never bothered to remember his scent. After all, to him, they were just possessions. Worthless little things.

Sure enough, he didn't recognize him.

Ming Rui said, "Maybe you're hallucinating. I just arrived in the city a few days ago."

Kemov glanced at him. "Maybe."

Then he casually sat down in the common seating area instead of the VIP section, mingling with the low-ranking residents.

He sat just two seats away from Ming Rui, who stiffened completely, unsure where to place his hands.

Someone nearby asked curiously, "Mr. Kemov, why is your pet, the woman, not with you today?"

Ming Rui's ears perked up.

He heard Kemov click his tongue impatiently. "The Administrator took her."

Gasps sounded around him. "The Administrator came?"

The Administrator was in the Holy City?

Ming Rui's pupils shrank. Was Ruan Xing going to be okay? Facing the Administrator directly… even high-level pollutants had no advantage.

No. That wasn't right. It was more like being slaughtered.

He had once seen a high-level pollutant who became a traitor. The Administrator simply lifted his entire massive body like it weighed nothing. Then, that man was reduced to a skeleton, dangling in the Administrator's hand.

Ming Rui began to tremble. This was bad. He shouldn't have let Ruan Xing go. He had dragged Ruan Xing into this too! Now, not only his mother, but Ruan Xing might die as well!

"Hey! You've been acting weird since earlier."

Kemov walked past the crowd and placed a hand on Ming Rui's shoulder.

Ming Rui tried to dodge it, but he couldn't move at all.

Kemov grinned, revealing his white teeth.

"I remember who you are now, little thing. Where's your sister?"

—

Ruan Xing walked slowly through the High Tower. Everywhere he passed, the mushroom lamps bent their bodies, as if showing off to attract his attention.

But Ruan Xing ignored them. These things had no consciousness. What remained in them was just the residual will of the Tower Spirit. The real one wasn't here, so there was no need to appease them.

He hadn't lived here long, so his memory of the layout was hazy. That was why those thieves could hide right under his nose.

Some rooms were empty now, with only furniture inside. It was probably because the place was still new and they weren't stocked up, and also because a lot had already been stolen.

Luckily, the thieves could only access few rooms. His own layered encryptions heavily protected the truly valuable materials, so most were untouched. The intruders hadn't even figured out how to access them.

Ruan Xing stopped walking.

He stared at a room he had no memory of and fell into deep thought.

Even if he didn't recall what was in every room, he definitely knew how many rooms his home had. When did this one get added?

Could Yin Zhu be hiding inside?

He pushed the door. It clicked and opened easily.

But when he saw the interior, Ruan Xing froze.

The walls were covered in paintings, packed so tightly they filled his entire view.

And every painting was of the same person.

A youth with long black hair and green eyes, sometimes sitting, standing, smiling, or deep in thought, depicted with vivid lighting and clean lines.

At the center hung the largest canvas, nearly life-sized.

The young man wore a white ruffled shirt, beige trousers, and boots, with a black cloak draped over one arm. He stood on an open patch of green grass.

A breeze stirred his hair and clothes, highlighting his figure. His waistline was clearly drawn, as if invisible hands had wrapped around it. Soft beyond belief.

He stood slightly sideways, facing the painter.

Sunlight behind him formed a faint golden outline. Even the fine fuzz on his cheeks was drawn in detail.

Ruan Xing never knew he could look like that. Every line on his face was gentle, curved, and completely innocent. Even his long hair seemed joyful.

The skill and care in each stroke showed how deeply the artist had poured emotion into the work.

Ruan Xing was sure he wasn't narcissistic enough to paint these many self-portraits. But who else could have done this?

The dates signed on the paintings were decades apart, revealing shifts in the painter's emotions.

At first, the youth was depicted with warmth and patience. The brushstrokes were full of affection, and he was the brightest light in each scene.

Later, the strokes grew harsh and messy.

The gentle youth vanished. In his place stood a colder version, surrounded by dull tones. Still perfect, but distant and indifferent, edged with disdain.

It was as if he were looking at the painter with eyes full of disgust.

In the final painting, the youth was working in a room in the Mage Tower. Beside him was another figure. It was a faceless man who leaned in closely on his shoulders, circling him with an intimate embrace.

It was incomplete, as if the artist couldn't bear the emotions anymore and abandoned the piece.

Ruan Xing tried to touch the paintings, but a barrier blocked him.

The protective formation was similar to his own, but it wasn't his work.

It was the Tower Spirit's.

The realization struck him like lightning.

These paintings, this entire room, were created by the Tower Spirit while he was gone.

These countless oil paintings had kept the Tower Spirit company through every passing day and year without Ruan Xing.

A whole room of oil paintings, one day after another, one year into the next. Each stroke a plea. Each canvas, a prayer.

All of his emotions were poured into them. Outsiders could only catch glimpses of what he had truly felt.

In those endless days and nights, the Tower Spirit numbed himself with painting, holding onto hope that his master would come back. But the wait stretched on, and the one he longed for never returned.

Eventually, he gave up.

The youth’s cold, disdainful eyes were the Tower Spirit’s greatest fear.

Did Ruan Xing actually hate him?

Ruan Xing clutched the fabric over his chest, his long fingers trembling with tension.

Without him, the Tower Spirit had remained trapped here, unable to leave the body he inhabited. Like a pitiful prisoner, struggling in the darkness, begging for his master's mercy... but received no response.

Fu Gui noticed something was wrong, so he poked his head out. The sight of the room full of portraits shocked him too, but sensing Ruan Xing's mood, he held back his comments and quietly reminded him:

"Ruan Xing, I just remembered. That Yin Zhu guy probably went looking for a living being. He's injured, and to stay alive, he has to drain life force. He might not even be in the tower anymore."

"Don't forget, if they found a way in, they also have a way to leave."

"If we waste too much time, he might already be gone."

Ruan Xing's eyes turned red as he replied with a raspy voice.

"…I know."