C6 Who Are You Looking For??

The book Master Westley left him was his most crucial support during his recovery from severe injuries.

His master was an enigmatic figure, fond of wearing simple white garments, earning him the nickname "White-clothed Physician."

His medical prowess was extraordinary, having mastered miraculous healing techniques and achieved immortality.

Eight years prior, he imparted the complete teachings of the Sky Opening Nine Needles to Westley, but vanished mysteriously after delivering just the first half of the Sky Opening Medicine Scripture.

Westley's decision to become a mercenary was largely driven by his quest to find his master.

The formation of the formidable Hidden Dragon Squad was a twist of fate that unfolded later on.

With great care, Westley extracted the ancient tome, Sky Opening Nine Needles.

He opened it to a middle page and retrieved nine unevenly sized silver needles.

These Falling Sky Needles, a gift from his master, were forged from celestial meteoric iron. By the time they reached Westley, he was their nineteenth heir.

Despite the passage of time, the needles remained unchanged, becoming only sharper and more resilient.

The dim light in the room couldn't conceal the needles' eerie, cold silver glow.

"Sky Breaking Energy, harness the creation of Yin and Yang, set the cosmos of the sun and moon. Only through relentless accumulation can one shatter the body's constraints."

Murmuring these familiar words, Westley rapidly inserted the needles into several vital acupoints.

Fengchi Acupoint!

Zhangmen Acupoint!

Taiyuan Acupoint!

These were critical life-gate acupoints within the body!

The effect of each needle varied greatly depending on the depth of insertion into the acupoints.

Only through continuous refinement could one's needling technique reach perfection.

Westley, blessed with exceptional talent, had already mastered the art of Blind Needle.

The stimulation from the Falling Sky Needles triggered a trickle of Spiritual Energy within him, like water suddenly springing forth from a dry well.

Though the flow of Spiritual Energy was modest, it signified a fresh hope.

According to his master, this enigmatic Sky Breaking Energy was a primordial force, superior to all forms of Spiritual Energy and the essence of dominion.

After circulating the Spiritual Energy, Westley reopened his eyes to find the evening had arrived.

Gazing into the distance, Westley's thoughts were heavy. 'Though I've reconstructed my Dantian and Qihai, the flow of Spiritual Energy remains feeble. To truly replenish my meridians, I'm reliant on medicinal stimulation for a swift recovery.'

He sighed, the weight of his predicament settling in. 'But the cost of these herbs is steep, and I'm without any financial means at present.'

The realization cast a shadow over Westley's mood.

Life had been comfortable when Olivia ensured a regular allowance from the company each month. However, their relationship had soured, and she deemed him a lost cause, severing his allowance two months prior.

This left Westley in dire straits.

Struggling to make rent, let alone purchase medicine, he reflected on his days as a mercenary. His earnings from missions weren't enough to rival nations, but they could have easily placed him among Lindzac's wealthiest.

Yet, he had come here incognito to heal, severing ties with his former life.

Using that account would risk leaving a trail for hidden enemies to find.

It wasn't a lack of funds; it was the danger of exposure without a solid plan in place that kept him from his wealth.

'It appears even a penny can bring a handsome fellow like me to the brink of despair.'

With a heavy heart, he collapsed onto the bed.

As he wracked his brain for financial solutions, his old phone rang.

It was Aimee on the line.

'Is she ready to bring this charade to a close?' he wondered, a knowing smile crossing his face as he answered the call.

"Hey, Westley, where are you?" Aimee's voice came through, brimming with urgency.

"What's up?" he replied, his tone nonchalant.

"My dad's on his way back from Europe, should land around seven. My sister wants you to come home and settle things once and for all," she informed him.

"Oh," Westley responded, his voice betraying little concern.

"Just so you know... my mom's coming too," Aimee added.

"What?"

Westley's composure faltered. "The she-devil... I mean, is my mother-in-law also arriving?" he blurted out, his voice tinged with panic.

Aimee seemed to overlook Westley's peculiar reference to her mother, instead pressing on triumphantly, "Exactly! You'd better hurry back and don't be late."

She ended the call abruptly, leaving Westley to his thoughts, and then turned to share a conspiratorial wink with Olivia, who was engrossed in her book nearby.

"Sis, it's all taken care of. With mom overseeing things herself, I doubt that loser will be causing any more waves," Olivia's brother assured her.

"Okay," Olivia replied, her voice calm but her heart turbulent with anticipation. 'Could this really be the end of dealing with that man?' she wondered, hoping everything would go smoothly.

Westley, meanwhile, was panicking. 'Damn, that she-devil is coming too. What am I going to do?' His mother-in-law was a force to be reckoned with; she had nearly sabotaged his wedding three years ago, and the memory still cast a shadow over him. In a fit of anxiety, he tried to reach his father-in-law, only to find his phone switched off. 'He must still be on the plane,' Westley thought, trying to calm himself.

Without further ado, he dressed and stepped out. Passing the east room, he noticed the light still on—likely Ivy, cramming for her exams. Not wanting to interrupt, he hurried out of the house and onto Five-dragon Street, where he hailed a cab to the Aristocratic Villa.

Upon arrival, the driver announced the fare: "Sixty-eight dollars."

"That much?" Westley muttered under his breath. Scrambling to gather the fare, he managed to scrape together sixty-five dollars in mixed coins and bills. Handing it over with an embarrassed grin, he said, "Sorry, can I owe you three?"

The driver gave him a look of mixed pity and annoyance, reluctantly accepting the money. "If you can't afford a cab, why take one? Just my luck," he grumbled before driving off without another word.

Westley felt too dejected to even swear. As the son-in-law of the Ye Corporation's owner, he couldn't believe he was short on cab fare. Who would believe such a story?

With a heavy heart, he made his way into the Aristocratic Villa. The neighborhood was a collection of luxurious villas in the most coveted part of Lindzac, with prices that left everyone speechless. Only the wealthy and distinguished could afford to live in such a place.

The Rogers Family's home was a sprawling standalone villa in the southeast corner of the community, boasting over a thousand square meters of space, complete with a large garden and an ornate fountain amidst the rocks.

The entrance to the detached villa was striking, with a gate towering over three meters high and surveillance cameras dotting the perimeter—so comprehensive that it seemed not even a fly could penetrate the fortress-like security.

The villa boasted a sophisticated access control system, capable of recognizing faces to grant entry—everyone's but Westley's, that is.

He had no choice but to press the doorbell like any other visitor.

Soon after, a white-haired elder in a flowing robe, his hair meticulously groomed, strode toward him with a brisk, unwavering gait.

Stopping at the door, the old man fixed Westley with a gaze and posed a question that left him utterly dumbfounded.

"Hello, may I ask who you're looking for?"