I Am the Fourth Lord
Devastating.
Cassian Vance had actually waited at the dock all night just so I wouldn't get cold.
Was that really necessary? He could've gone home as soon as my ferry docked.
It was such a foolish thing to do—yet I was inexplicably moved.
Sure, he'd said he wanted to hold me while we slept, but a small warmth still blossomed in my chest, spreading gently through me like sunlight on cold skin.
Actually, I didn't mind sleeping in his arms at all.
I said softly, "I have a mission to complete—don't ask what it is. I'll go turn it in first, then come home. Wait for me."
"Mm..."
I felt that little warmth expanding, making my heart glow with a quiet contentment. Even after I'd dragged Nora Hale all the way to the compound and deposited her in the holding area, a pleasant flutter still tickled my chest. I couldn't seem to calm the happiness bubbling inside me.
Maybe... I thought, cheeks warming. Maybe, from the perspective of a mature older woman, I should reward him for this. Just a little something.
After dropping off Nora Hale, I ran into Juniper and Valerian coming from the cafeteria—they'd just finished breakfast and were heading back.
They both greeted me, and Juniper noticed my flushed face immediately. "Sister, why is your face so red this early in the morning?"
I whispered, "Cassian Vance did something that really touched me."
"Like what?"
I told her about him waiting at the dock all night. "Isn't that sweet? Kind of touching, right?"
Juniper shook her head without hesitation. "What exactly is touching about it?"
"The weather was freezing, and he waited all night at the dock just so I could put on a jacket sooner! That's dedication!"
Juniper blinked at me, then said matter-of-factly, "The Emperor's boat is docked right there at the pier. It has leather sofas, a TV, black tea, blankets, and all kinds of books. He was waiting on a heated boat with every comfort. What's touching about that? How is waiting on the boat any different from waiting at the dock?"
Oh.
She... had a point.
That warm glow I'd been nursing evaporated instantly. I trudged back to our room, deflated and dejected.
Cassian Vance was lying on the sofa reading. When he saw me, he patted the empty spot beside him, gesturing for me to curl up next to him.
I couldn't resist asking, "Last night—were you waiting on the dock, or on your boat?"
"The boat has tea and sofas. Why would I stand on the dock? I'm not an idiot."
Right.
If he had actually stood on the dock all night in the cold, I'd have thought he was an idiot anyway.
I took a shower. When I came out, a bathrobe was hanging on the wall—I was sure it hadn't been there before. He must have put it there while I was washing.
I changed into the bathrobe and curled up beside Cassian Vance on the sofa. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I played with his fingers absently while Major trotted downstairs, panting happily and circling us like a fuzzy satellite.
A comfortable warmth settled over me. I relaxed further, nuzzling against his chest, looking up at the sharp line of his jaw. He looked down and kissed my forehead—softly, gently, like I was something precious.
I closed my eyes happily, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Then his hand began trembling as it slipped inside my bathrobe, fingers trailing across my skin.
I sighed. "Must you ruin every romantic moment?"
He argued with complete conviction, "From your perspective it ruins the romance. From a man's perspective, this IS romance."
I gave up arguing. "Fine. I know you're probably uncomfortable. I'll help you with that."
"Huh?" He sounded thoroughly taken aback, his voice trembling slightly.
He swallowed hard. "You're... not joking?"
"Of course not. I've been married before. This sort of thing is perfectly normal to me... I just don't want you to be uncomfortable all the time. Let me do something for you."
"Mm..." Cassian Vance actually blushed. His ears turned red. He stammered, "Then... then... I don't know what to say."
"Silly."
I smiled, then pulled out my phone and typed into the search bar: "male self-use personal device—"
Cassian Vance grabbed my hand, gritting his teeth. "You're impossible!"
We went to sleep normally that night, holding each other close.
Honestly, I didn't understand why he sulked all night after that.
I was offering to buy him a thoughtful gift, and he was giving me attitude. Some men were just insatiable—I couldn't very well buy him two!
I slept soundly until noon. When I woke and stretched, Cassian Vance was already dressed and ready to go.
"Are you busy again today?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"You're always busy..." I murmured, unable to keep the hint of complaint from my voice. "Look at Valerian—he always makes time for Juniper. I'm not asking you to hover over me constantly, but we rarely get time alone together."
"Valerian is a lightweight. I'm not."
"The lightweight manages to do what you can't."
"My mistake. I'm sorry."
He leaned down and kissed my forehead.
I slipped my hand inside his shirt and pinched his abs—just a quick squeeze. He reached for my collar in response; I punched him on the arm. He yelped and finally behaved.
"Some things I can do, but you can't," I said firmly.
Cassian Vance looked slightly aggrieved, like a puppy who'd been told off. Eventually he got dressed, washed up, and left before me.
I checked my phone and noticed messages on both my accounts—the regular one and the Fourth Lord account.
Nolan Kane's message read: "You completed the classified mission brilliantly. Let's have lunch today. I've booked private room 555 on the third floor of the cafeteria—it's completely secure, no one will notice us. If anyone asks, say Director Kane invited you. The Emperor will also be joining us. This will be the first meeting between the Fourth Lord and the Emperor."
A meal? And a meeting between the Fourth Lord and the Emperor? That was unexpected—I thought the Fourth Lord's identity was supposed to be one of the most closely guarded secrets in The Badlands.
Then I checked Cassian Vance's message. It was written in that stiff, formal tone he always used on the Fourth Lord account: "Sir, your tone yesterday was somewhat off. Have I offended you in some way? Today at lunch, if there were any past offenses, I hope we can let bygones be bygones."
I couldn't help but laugh.
So his "busy work" was having lunch with me.
I thought for a moment, then typed a reply: "I simply don't like you. Is that a problem?"
His response came quickly: "People are mutual. If you don't like me, what makes you think I like you? If it weren't for work, you'd be hanging from the bathroom ceiling by now."
This guy... He really never backs down. He'd even threaten his own superior officer.
I sighed and typed back: "Suit yourself! Just don't run when I come for you."
I thought my "Suit yourself!" was a pretty obvious hint—like, maybe he'd realize I was the Fourth Lord and we could stop this ridiculous charade.
But Cassian Vance didn't pick up on it at all.
"Are you challenging me to a fight, like children? My dear Fourth Lord, I wouldn't mind shoving your head into a toilet so you can enjoy your meal in peace."
"Oh, my dear Emperor, I swear—if you keep speaking to me with this insufferable arrogance, I will kick your backside with the sharpest black pointy-toed shoe in existence, at high noon, in broad daylight."
"A war of words? I have no interest. See you at lunch. One suggestion: wear your best outfit. It may well become your funeral portrait."
I set the phone down and scoffed.
Then I began getting ready. The midday weather wasn't too cold, so I chose a halter top, carefully covered my scars with foundation and concealer, and paired it with a mini skirt that made me look, if I was being honest with myself, like some kind of man-eater.
I checked myself in the mirror, turning side to side. Not bad.
The walk to the cafeteria turned heads—I could feel eyes on me the entire way. At the entrance to the third floor, a guard stopped me. "Sorry, the third floor is under renovation today. Please eat downstairs."
"I'm here as Director Kane's guest."
His expression changed. "Right this way, then."
He escorted me respectfully to room 555.
Inside, Nolan Kane rose to greet me with a booming laugh. "Truly impressive! You completed the classified mission brilliantly. Having you as Fourth Lord puts me completely at ease!"
I sat down and asked, "Where's the Emperor?"
"He'll be here shortly. He seems to be in a foul mood today... don't worry, though. He's professional. Won't let personal feelings interfere with work."
I nodded. "I wouldn't know why he'd be in a bad mood. I'm in an excellent mood, personally."
As if on cue, the door was thrown open with enough force to rattle the frame.
Cassian Vance strode in, snapping, "You little bastard, I'm offering you a meal and you—"
He stopped mid-sentence, freezing in place as he stared at me.
I smiled at him, sweet and lethal. "Hi."
He blinked at me, then at my outfit, dumbfounded. "Why are you... dressed like that?"
"You told me to wear my best outfit. I searched through everything I own, and this was the best I could find."
Nolan Kane stood, chuckling. "Let me introduce you both. This is Dandelion, our new Fourth Lord in charge of the Sin Hunters. And this—well, the Emperor hardly needs an introduction. Everyone knows him."
"You? The Fourth Lord?" Cassian Vance stared at me, stunned beyond words.
Nolan Kane continued smoothly, "The previous Fourth Lord was captured by Adrian Cross. Dandelion completed the classified mission exceptionally well. After carefully reviewing her background, I concluded she's the perfect fit for this position. Cassian, sit down."
Cassian Vance sat awkwardly beside me, visibly at a loss for words. His earlier bravado had evaporated completely, and he looked like he couldn't decide whether to be furious, embarrassed, or something else entirely.
Nolan Kane handed us menus. In a hushed voice, Cassian asked, "What... would you like to eat?"
"Suit yourself."
"Then... chicken and mushroom stew?"
"Suit yourself."
"Are you cold in that outfit? Should I turn up the heat?"
"Suit yourself."
Cassian Vance said helplessly, "I get it—you're upset about last night. Can we discuss this at home? Not in front of other people."
I glanced at him and finally sighed.
Fine. I wouldn't embarrass him at work.
"Order whatever you like," I said mildly. "I want to see what you enjoy eating."
"Okay."
After Cassian ordered, Nolan Kane lit a cigarette with a smile. "Dandelion, do you know why I invited you here?"
"No. But I'm about to find out, aren't I?"
"Ha! True enough." He took a drag, and I wrinkled my nose at the smoke. Instantly, Cassian reached over and pinched out his cigarette.
"No smoking."
"Huh? Since when is that—"
"I said, no smoking."
Nolan Kane looked awkward, stubbing out the cigarette properly and setting it aside. "Alright then... Let me introduce myself properly. Have you heard of Kane Investment Group?"
I shook my head. Business wasn't my thing at all.
"I started as a small merchant with just over two million in cash. Within three years, I turned that into a billion."
I said "Oh" without much enthusiasm. He was probably telling me something impressive, but I felt nothing. My husband had been a man who earned a few thousand a month. I'd loved our simple life—saving money together, doing occasional part-time work, traveling when we could afford it. A billion meant nothing to me. It was an abstraction, a number so far removed from my reality that I couldn't even fathom its weight.
Nolan Kane was clearly deflated by my lack of reaction. He'd probably expected awe, or at least surprise. He cleared his throat, seemingly unsure how to continue, and then recomposed himself. "Do you know how I achieved that?"
Nolan Kane was clearly deflated by my lack of reaction. He cleared his throat and continued, "Do you know how I achieved that?"
"No."
He took a deep breath. "It all began with a tragedy years ago..."
There are two great sorrows a person can experience regarding family.
One is when white-haired parents bury their children. The other is when children want to care for their parents—but it's already too late.
Nolan Kane's sorrow was the second kind.
Raised by a single mother in grinding poverty, his greatest dream from childhood was simple: to give his mother a good meal and buy her new clothes. He worked harder than anyone, and with talent and relentless perseverance, he made his first fortune.
The first thing he did was bring his mother to the city. He showed her the bright lights and modern world like a child seeking praise—wanting her to see what he'd accomplished, what all his sacrifice had been for.
Seeing her smile, he felt complete.
Because soon... she would live well for good.
That evening, his mother was happy and celebrated a little too much. Then she had a stroke.
He rushed her into an ambulance, but on the highway overpass, they were stuck in gridlocked traffic. The ambulance moved onto the emergency lane—that was what emergency lanes were for, wasn't it?
But a driver, rushing to the airport to pick up an important client and unwilling to be late, wedged his car in front of the ambulance, using its sirens and emergency status to clear his own path through the congestion.
No matter how the ambulance driver honked or flashed his lights, the man refused to yield. Even after they left the highway, he stayed in front of the ambulance at a red light, blocking the emergency vehicle so he could continue using its path through the stopped traffic.
Nolan Kane's mother missed the critical window for life-saving treatment.
She had worked hard for decades, and known happiness for exactly one day.
The driver's penalty? A five hundred yuan fine and six demerit points on his license.
This became the wound Nolan Kane could never heal. Why? Why had this man killed his mother and received only that pathetic punishment?
But it had happened. It was real.
Then one day, he received a mysterious phone call.
The caller told him that at eight o'clock that evening, he should drive to the east gate of the Sixteenth City complex—he could find a way to ease the pain in his heart.
Nolan Kane thought it was a prank. The whole thing sounded absurd.
But that evening he happened to have a business meeting near the Sixteenth City complex. Afterward, curiosity won out. He had his assistant drive to the east gate.
There, they saw an ambulance arriving to pick up a patient.
The patient was the very driver who had blocked his mother's ambulance.
Nolan Kane saw his chance for karmic justice. He would block this ambulance too!
But he didn't dare do it himself—worried about being suspected of targeted revenge. If that man died, the consequences could be far more severe than a traffic ticket.
So he sent his assistant. The man had been with Nolan for years and knew the boss's heartbreak intimately. He didn't hesitate—he drove straight out and blocked the ambulance's path.
The driver who had once delayed an ambulance died on one himself.
Afterward, the mysterious caller intrigued Nolan Kane deeply. He called back, demanding to know who they were. The caller wasn't in a hurry—instead, they gave him a set of lottery numbers and told him to buy a ticket the next day, then call back after the draw.
Nolan Kane, suppressing his curiosity, did as instructed. On draw day—he hit the jackpot.
When he called back, breathless with excitement, the caller made a proposal: together, they would create a world where bad people were punished.
An eye for an eye. Evil punished with evil.
In the caller's words, this would be a great and holy collaboration.
Nolan Kane had every reason to hate. They were a perfect match. He provided the money; the caller supplied the original batch of Sin Hunter targets—people whose lives had been destroyed by evildoers who escaped justice.
That was how The Badlands was born.
I frowned. "The caller—was that the Prophets' department? The Judgment Tower knows everything through their intelligence. This matches their pattern exactly."
"'Prophets' is a misconception," Nolan Kane said.
"What do you mean?"
He picked up his chopsticks and said gravely, "The word 'prophet' means someone who can see the future."
"Right."
"Now think differently. What if they're not seeing the future—what if they're FROM the future?"