Blackstone Code-Chapter 415: If This Is Writing

The small gathering tonight had a great atmosphere. Mr. Wadrick even invited a popular female singer to perform live, accompanied by a band, making the mood quite lively.

“I heard you want to join the Saint Harmony Society.”

After the party had started, Wadrick found Lynch alone and brought up some of Lynch’s earlier ideas.

The Federation is ruled by the Saint Harmony Society!

The Saint Harmony Society rules the entire world!

How ignorant must one be to believe such a lie? Yet most of the Federation’s population believed it was true. Both the government and world leaders were either members or controlled by the Society.

What’s even more surprising is that the Saint Harmony Society, the secret force behind global control, never denied these rumors. Their silence only boosted their notoriety.

A secret society unlike any other—open yet exclusive, one everyone wanted to join.

Lynch wanted to join too. Most of the Federation’s upper class were members. Though it was possible to reach the top without the Society, having membership made things much easier.

He had considered enrolling as a student at a Federation Sanctum Academy this year, but his schedule was too tight; for now, he could only consider an honorary status.

Fortunately, this was the Baylor Federation—money could achieve almost anything.

Wadrick must have heard this news from somewhere; bringing it up now clearly had a purpose.

Lynch nodded. “That status is important to me.”

Wadrick gave a slight nod. “I can write you a recommendation letter. You know…” He pressed his thumb against the collar of his jacket, revealing the Society’s level-three badge. “With my endorsement, no one will give you trouble.”

Even within the Society, Wadrick was a major figure. Yet Lynch was wary of his motive.

At his level, every action and word likely carried a deeper meaning.

Lynch’s scrutinizing gaze made Wadrick chuckle silently. He raised his glass slightly, clinked with Lynch, and took a small sip before continuing. “Do you always look at the world this way? Even when it’s just goodwill?”

Lynch sipped his drink. “Every action has demands and motives behind it, especially from someone as renowned as Mr. Wadrick. It’s impossible for me not to think about it.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but it had the spirit of one. Wadrick smiled modestly. “This is an investment, Lynch. Your future will be remarkable, so I’m putting some small—but important—stakes in you early. Isn’t that what we like to do?”

“That makes me feel much better. I accept your investment, sir!”

They clinked glasses again, sealing the deal. Lynch knew that with Wadrick’s recommendation, once he became a member, he would be marked as part of Wadrick’s faction.

This meant that even before entering the Society, he would already share Wadrick’s enemies—a potential disadvantage.

But everything has two sides. With negatives come positives.

Joining the Society would mean facing opponents, but also gaining many allies.

Those who are friends with Wadrick aren’t obscure nobodies—there are risks, but also rewards.

Besides, even if Lynch refused, starting from scratch meant facing all kinds of challenges and factions: political camps, academic cliques, professional groups…

It was better to join a faction that posed less risk and offered higher returns.

“Before you leave, my butler will give you the recommendation letter. Now, I must…” He glanced at the other guests, “…excuse myself and attend to them.” Ꞧâɴǒ𐌱Ɛs

As Wadrick left, others who had been watching approached. “Mr. Lynch…”

It was a strange feeling. Lynch was still almost two months away from his 22nd birthday, yet these recognized successful figures already addressed him as Mr. Lynch. Perhaps this was a pleasure beyond wealth, status, power, and influence.

“Hello…” Lynch’s warm smile caused the young middle-aged man before him to return the sincerest grin.

In her room, Severella lay bored on her bed, flipping through fashion magazines. She planned to write another book—mainly because she was bored.

No one could understand her pain. From birth, she was seen as a failure, yet one that 99% of the world envied.

Whatever she did or didn’t do, the fortune she was to inherit grew at a terrifying speed.

The financial crisis and economic turmoil only slowed its growth slightly, leaving her even more bored.

But she didn’t fit in with her peers—those children from similar backgrounds.

The real failures spent their days only thinking about how to spend money in decadent ways.

Another group discussed business, politics, and other serious matters all day.

She wanted to find something meaningful. Perhaps becoming a role model for women of the new era was a good idea.

She wanted to prove to the world she was outstanding—that even without family background, she could be a remarkable modern woman.

Writing books, managing her fashion brand—these were her main tasks. She often received letters from fans, and recently, those letters had increased.

Every year at this time, letters rose because many high school girls prepared to enter college. Before starting, they sought guidance—like the long-selling book, How to Quickly Fit into College Social Circles.

This book appeared on many recommended reading lists, including “Ten Must-Read Books for Freshmen.”

The new sales wave sparked more fan letters, inspiring her to write another book—likely tied to her fashion brand.

This would create a strong synergy, using her bestselling author status to draw attention to her brand and cultivate a unique aura—something appealing to young, intellectual women.

Beginnings were always hard. As she flipped through the fashion magazines, she pondered the opening line: An ordinary girl and an ordinary dream. She felt this captured her feelings when creating the brand.

As she considered how to elegantly describe an ordinary girl’s struggle to achieve a simple dream, noises downstairs interrupted her thoughts.

She furrowed her delicate brows. She knew there was a small gathering at home tonight, and a slight noise breaking her thoughts was hard to recover from. She tapped the velvet pillow embroidered with gold thread, then turned over and got out of bed.

She decided to check it out and grab a drink while she was at it.

Severella was already an adult, and Mr. Wadrick didn’t forbid her from drinking, but only at home.

The outside world was dangerous. Many people were scheming to impregnate his daughter to infiltrate the family, so he was very strict about this. This was probably why Severella rarely mingled with peers of her age or background.

She disliked boring social circles, and her father forbade her from enjoying lively ones. Of course, she herself wasn’t fond of chaotic lifestyles either.

After all, she was a refined, independent, and strong young woman.

She entered the first-floor side room, quietly poured herself a glass of wine, and as she turned to find a corner to savor it, her eyes suddenly lit up.

A gentleman chatting with Lynch glanced over at Severella standing not far away, watching them intently. After some thought, he politely suggested they end their conversation.

Being stared at was uncomfortable, especially as the daughter of a powerful man.

Once he left, Severella approached Lynch herself. “What are you doing here?”

She asked casually. From several encounters, she had noticed Lynch was different from everyone else—he was an outsider.

He carried Mr. Wadrick’s calmness and could, like that man, give a girl a sense of security. That fleeting moment in the study that afternoon, the tiny particles suspended in the air, lit by sunlight, surrounded him.

He spoke confidently and calmly with Mr. Wadrick, the man she had admired for over twenty years, who now showed unprecedented focus and seriousness.

Lynch wasn’t like those who liked to fool around—constantly loud and reckless, which was hard to tolerate. Nor was he dull. He joked and laughed; being with him wasn’t noisy or boring—it was enjoyable.

A remarkable person. When she didn’t see him, she didn’t really miss him, but once she did, she couldn’t help but want to come over and talk.

Noticing the girl’s surprised gaze, Lynch was a bit taken aback. “I was passing by and got a bit hungry…” He nodded toward the plates on the dining table. “So I came in to get some food. You won’t report me, right?”

“I don’t have an invitation!”

She smiled with closed lips, not showing her teeth. “You’re lying!”

She didn’t give Lynch more chance to speak and asked, “Can you write books?”

Lynch hesitated slightly. “If by writing books you mean writing lies to deceive others, then yes, I can.”

The girl ignored everything before that and said, “Great, I happen to have something I want to talk to you about!”