Chapter 12: Winning Clayton's Favor

Words : 1787 Updated : Nov 13th, 2025

Stefan met James's piercing stare without flinching. Instead, he pushed back. "You've got it wrong. You're not giving me a chance; you're giving yourself a chance, and giving your father a chance. And don't thank me. I'm not helping you. I'm helping Mr. Lapwood." James blinked, momentarily thrown. For someone at his level, he had never encountered such boldness. Yet his respect for Stefan only grew; this young man was no ordinary figure. "Fine. I hope you can back it up. Come with me." He gave Stefan a long, searching look, then turned and led the group into a ward. On the bed lay an emaciated old man with ashen skin, wearing an oxygen mask. Pain pinched his brow. Anyone could see he was in dire straits. James handed over a medical file, his expression grave. "This is my father's case. Take a look. If there's any way at all, I hope you'll save him." "I don't need that." Stefan didn't take the file. He stepped to the bedside, placed his fingers on the old man's wrist, and took his pulse, closing his eyes to focus. He had studied traditional medicine at university and had inherited an esoteric lineage. In a heartbeat, he understood the old man's condition: late-stage cirrhosis, a host of complications. He had reached the point of no return. No medicine had helped. Without Stefan's intervention, the man had at best two weeks left. James's voice shook. "Well, is there a way to treat my father?" His father was a veteran of the border war. At this crucial moment, the old man's presence kept their rivals in check, and the Heyland family's legacy could last two more generations. If he died, their political enemies would pounce; the fallout would be unimaginable. Therefore, James would try anything to keep his father alive. That was the real reason he'd taken the risk of keeping Stefan around. Stefan glanced at him, said nothing, and let his actions speak. He unbuttoned the old man's shirt. After a moment's thought, he decided to put on a little show to reassure everyone. For effect, he ran through a series of hand seals. Then the five fingers of his right hand glowed, like tiny LED lights lighting up, a soft white radiance spilling from the tips. Gasps rippled through the room. All eyes were riveted on Stefan's glowing hand, stunned. Even for someone at James's level, he had never seen anything so uncanny as fingers that glowed. Legends said a Grandmaster could punch through steel, but even they couldn't make light pour from their fingertips. "Immortal arts..." James murmured, awe and hope swelling in his chest. "This is... like something out of the legends." Stefan, pleased with the effect, pressed his glowing hand to the acupoint at the center of the old man's chest. He focused his internal energy and began drawing out the sickly energy. As it left, the old man's chalky pallor warmed to a healthy flush. The tight knot in his brow loosened, easing line by line. Then Stefan guided a wisp of the Essence of Origin through the old man's system, cleansing and realigning his organs. Bathed in that energy, his body quickened, life springing back into dormant places. Throughout, James and the others barely dared to breathe, afraid to disturb the treatment. Suddenly, the old man's eyes flew open. He tore off the oxygen mask and shot upright in one smooth motion. Color brightened his cheeks as he bellowed, "Wine! Bring me wine. I want to drink!" "Dad, how do you feel?" James hurried forward, nearly giddy. Anyone could see the turnaround was nothing short of miraculous. Clayton glared and barked, "Are you blind? Can't you see I feel strong as an ox? Believe it or not, I'll knock your front teeth out with one punch. Quit yammering and bring me wine!" With that, he slammed his fist into the nightstand. The solid wood split with a jagged fissure. James jumped. "Dad, you just recovered. Please, take it easy!" Clayton himself looked startled. Wasn't he supposed to have late-stage cirrhosis, counting the days? Why did he feel so powerful now? "James, did you feed me an immortal elixir or something? I feel better than I ever have." "Dad, it's all thanks to this young gentleman." James bowed to Stefan, solemn and grateful. "Sir, thank you. You saved my father. I have no idea how to repay you." He was thoroughly convinced by Stefan's uncanny skill. Even his form of address had turned respectful. "I told you, I'm not helping you. I'm helping Mr. Lapwood. If you want to thank someone, thank him." Carlos inwardly beamed. He had worried Stefan might try to claim all the credit. Hearing this, he couldn't help but smile to himself. James studied Stefan, then turned to Carlos. "Carlos, I won't forget what I owe you. There's an opening for an office director at the City Bureau. Interested?" "Absolutely. Thank you." Carlos could hardly contain himself. All that trouble had paid off. "My friend, I owe you my life. If there's ever anything I can do, just say the word." Clayton had sobered. Anyone who could cure his terminal illness was worth befriending. "You're too kind. You bled for the country and carried the weight for everyday people. If you're ever in trouble, I believe anyone with a conscience would step in." Stefan spoke with quiet sincerity. He had deep respect for veterans like Clayton. Even without Carlos's connection, he would have helped. "Hahaha. I can see you're a man of heart. You're my friend now, no question about it." Clayton laughed, spirits soaring. "I do have a few connections, though. If you run into trouble, come find me anytime." Off to the side, Carlos felt a pang of envy. A few connections? Clayton had near top-tier state privileges and wielded profound influence in both the military and political spheres. He was a bona fide heavyweight. And now he'd taken such a shine to Stefan. How could Carlos not envy him? Stefan wasn't one to put on false modesty. He nodded with an easy smile. "Then I'll thank you in advance, Mr. Clayton. If anything comes up, I'll come to you for help. I just hope I won't be a bother." Clayton's laughter rang out again. "Not at all. It would be our honor to have you. You could never be a bother." After politely declining Clayton's repeated invitation to stay for a meal, Stefan and Carlos got in the car to head back to the prison. "Mr. Lapwood, when can I get free access to the prison?"

Chapter 12: Winning Clayton's Favor

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