Meeting Ling Mo and Sean’s Secret Letter

Linden Ling had no idea that while he was still hesitating over whether to sacrifice Ruby Redsleeve and show enough sincerity to satisfy Prince Nolan, the so-called "bastard" he mocked—Ling Mo, known as Third Young Master by Ruby—had already slipped secretly into Eastlyn, preparing to make contact with Serena Feng.

You had to admit, the two brothers were thinking along the same lines. Once they realized how important Serena Feng was to Prince Nolan, both decided to start with her.

There was no helping it—Serena Feng was easy to find, Prince Nolan was nearly impossible to meet. Linden Ling, at least, had his status; if he visited formally, Prince Nolan would definitely receive him, but whether they’d actually talk business was another matter.

As for Third Young Master Ling Mo? With his position, he probably couldn’t even get a glimpse of Prince Nolan. Officially, Ling Mo was Skyvault Fortress’s Third Young Master, but anyone with even a bit of knowledge about Skyvault knew his standing was lower than the servants.

When Linden Ling was a child, he literally put a dog chain around Ling Mo’s neck, forced him to crawl instead of stand, and forbade him from speaking—he could only bark like a dog.

Back then, Ling Mo’s life at Skyvault Fortress was no better than a dog’s. Only after Linden Ling was chosen by a martial arts master and taken away as a disciple did Ling Mo’s days improve a little.

Once Linden Ling left, the people of Skyvault Fortress still didn’t value Ling Mo, but at least they stopped humiliating him like Linden had. Ling Mo finally got a chance to breathe. Thanks to decent talent and relentless endurance, he secretly trained and gradually mastered solid martial skills, earning himself a place in Skyvault Fortress by sheer strength—and eventually, the fortress lord began to rely on him.

Of course, this so-called trust didn’t mean treating Ling Mo as a true young master. He was Skyvault Fortress’s number-one enforcer—the one sent to handle the dirtiest, most dangerous jobs. The fact that he’d survived all these years was honestly a miracle.

The dossier on Ling Mo came from Prince Nolan, handed to Serena Feng with a casual remark: "Skyvault Fortress is quite interesting."

When Prince Nolan said this, Serena Feng caught a flash of fox-like amusement in his eyes. She couldn’t help but wonder: Was Prince Nolan really so angry about what happened on the street that he’d wipe out Skyvault Fortress just to avenge her?

Turns out Serena Feng was overthinking things. Never mind that she didn’t have world-shaking beauty—even if she did, Prince Nolan was never the impulsive type. The only reason he paid attention to Skyvault Fortress was its value, and the fact that it had come knocking at his door.

After learning about Ling Mo from Prince Nolan, Serena Feng realized Skyvault Fortress really was fascinating—and that she hadn’t dug deep enough in her earlier investigations.

Previously, Serena had only looked into rumors about Skyvault Fortress, never bothering with the details of Linden Ling or Ling Mo. She’d figured her role was just to show up, that she had no real connection with Skyvault and certainly no way to carve off a piece for herself. But now, things didn’t seem so simple.

"Ling Mo... I’d actually like to meet him." Serena’s fingertip traced Ling Mo’s name on the page.

Compared to Linden Ling, Serena Feng had more faith in Ling Mo—and apparently, so did Prince Nolan. That must be why he was making things so difficult for Linden.

Knock, knock, knock—the sound broke Serena’s train of thought. She frowned. Who would be disturbing her at this hour?

"Come in."

Left Shore pushed the door open and entered. Before Serena could speak, he pulled an envelope from behind his back: "Someone asked me to pass this to you."

"You’re actually running errands for people now?" Serena took the letter, noticed the seal at the bottom, and raised an eyebrow. "Skyvault Palace Sect? Why would Sean Xuan send me a letter—and have Left Shore deliver it? That’s odd."

Left Shore just stared at the ceiling, neither replying nor leaving. Serena tore open the letter and skimmed it quickly; only then did she understand why Sean had written to her.

So that was it. Linden Ling was technically Sean Xuan’s little martial-uncle, so why hadn’t Sean told her he was coming to Eastlyn? Turned out Sean and Linden weren’t close at all—instead, he had real friendship with Ling Mo.

This letter was Sean’s way of asking Serena Feng to look after Ling Mo. As for Linden, Sean only mentioned him in passing—just enough for Serena to save face, but no need to take him seriously.

"Who brought the letter?" Serena set the note aside and asked.

"Ling Mo." Left Shore answered coolly, his tone unchanged as usual. But Serena understood—Left Shore must have some kind of bond with Ling Mo. Otherwise, with his personality, he’d never agree to deliver a letter for him.

"How do you know Ling Mo?" It wasn’t all that surprising they’d met—the two shared plenty of similarities. But Left Shore was luckier: his princess mother might be unreliable, but at least she hadn’t abused him, and he’d had a master to teach him skills.

"I saved his life." Left Shore clearly didn’t want to elaborate. "He’s outside. Do you want to see him?"

"Yes. Let him in. If you’re free, go spend some time with Feng Jin—talk to him more. He’s starting to forget what you look like." Left Shore always acted high and mighty around Feng Jin, and the boy was terrified of him. If things kept going like this, the two brothers would only drift further apart.

Left Shore frowned, about to refuse, then reconsidered and nodded. "Dou Dou’s outside. If you need anything, call him."

"If he’s your friend, I trust him." If Sean Xuan had gone out of his way to write, Serena was sure Ling Mo wasn’t some vicious villain. Not everyone with a tragic childhood turned out evil.

Left Shore shot Serena a look, as if to say she was hopelessly naïve and way too trusting. Serena didn’t bother to explain herself—he wouldn’t listen anyway.

Left Shore hadn’t been gone long when another knock sounded at the door. Serena Feng knew exactly who it was. She got up and opened the door herself. The moment their eyes met, Ling Mo froze on the threshold, his raised foot hanging awkwardly in the air.

He hadn’t expected—Serena Feng herself was opening the door for him. He’d never received this kind of courtesy in his entire life.

Serena took the opportunity to size Ling Mo up: thin, gloomy, steeped in the scent of blood. He shrank into the shadows, his whole aura radiating a chilling killing intent. His face was ghostly pale, and his eyes were as dead as stagnant water—enough to make anyone want to torment him.

Honestly, Ling Mo’s first impression was terrible. If not for Sean Xuan’s letter and Left Shore’s words, Serena would have suspected this man was some kind of demonic cultist.

Judging people by appearances was the worst mistake. Serena kept her feelings hidden and welcomed him openly: "Third Young Master Ling, please come in."

Ling Mo snapped out of it, coughed awkwardly, and bowed his head. "Miss Feng, just call me Ling Mo."

His voice was hoarse and slow, painfully unpleasant—like his throat was full of razor blades, every syllable sliced apart. Serena’s doctor’s instinct kicked in: just from that one sentence, she could tell Ling Mo’s throat was seriously damaged.

As a physician, and a professional one at that, Serena didn’t start with business. Instead, she pointed out Ling Mo’s condition: "There’s a tumor in your throat. Is it congenital or the result of human abuse?"

Serena was convinced it was more likely inflicted by others. If it had been congenital, Ling Mo wouldn’t just sound like he was speaking through razor blades—he wouldn’t be able to speak at all.