Crack! Crack! Zhang Yuan delivered a series of powerful kicks, one after another, striking the young man's face. The blows sent him staggering backward, and though he several times tried to organize resistance, each effort was interrupted by the relentless attacks. Yet despite the unrelenting assault, the official messenger remained unharmed—only feeling minor skin pain, gritting his teeth. This was a remarkably resilient earth creature. On the other side, the middle-aged man finished informing his companion, then promptly removed his walkie-talkie and donned a strange, deep-brown mask resembling bark. "Pffft... pffft..." From ten meters away, he exhaled continuously toward the two engaged in combat. Fine, sharp wooden spines emitted barely audible "whistles," silently shooting toward the opponents. The bark mask was a specialty item of the wood spirit class. When worn, the wearer could exhale to launch fine wooden spines. While not particularly damaging, these spines carried a biological toxin capable of inducing numbness, pain, and difficulty breathing. The number of wooden spears emitted is unlimited, and as long as the user has sufficient lung capacity, they can maintain the attack continuously—offering excellent value for money. Wearing the Eyes of the Observer, Zhang Yuanqing detected the spears' assault earlier, then planted one foot firmly on the earth monster's chest, used the momentum to leap sideways, rolled over, and skillfully evaded the spears with remarkable agility. The young earth monster, however, was less fortunate—immediately enveloped by over a dozen spears, which pierced his body and created a series of subtle, earth-yellow ripples. The strength of the spears was still insufficient to breach the earth monster's defenses. At this moment, Zhang Yuanqing's gaze pierced through the reinforced concrete walls, spotting three powerful travelers approaching the main entrance. Meanwhile, the official traveler stationed at the rear, who had been guarding the backside of the building, was now rounding the nightclub and heading this way. It was almost time—Zhang Yuanqing no longer hesitated. He leapt into the air and dashed full speed toward the street opposite the nightclub. "Do you think you can make it?" Seeing this, the middle-aged man expelled the wooden spines to block the enemy's escape route, then launched himself with the agility of a monkey, aiming for the enemy's back. His palms pressed together like blades, and his skin rapidly took on the rings of the tree, transforming his palms and fingers into sharp wooden spines that pierced the enemy's back. This was a Level 3 Wood Spirit, a captain-level master. Zhang Yuanqing, rushing forward, suddenly halted, twisted his waist, and drove his fist like a feinting thrust back at the enemy. The middle-aged man raised his left arm, causing wood patterns to emerge on his skin, solidifying into iron-hard wood. "Thud…" Zhang Yuanqing's wooden blade, formed from his palm, was sidestepped as he moved, cutting through his clothes, while his fist struck the enemy's raised forearm, producing a deep, resonant sound. Cracking, cracking, cracking… the middle-aged man retreated step by step, his arm splitting with a sharp sound, and streams of blood seeping from the fissures. Had he grown stronger?! His face changed slightly, showing signs of concern. The level of this mesmerizing spirit had already been witnessed not long ago—this one isn't that strong. According to logic, under the circumstances of being struck by the steward, his combat power should have declined, not improved. Ah, yes—he's blood-thirsty, raging when wounded. He killed people at the nightclub. This guy is actually weaker than I expected. No, rather, I'm overestimating myself. I've now reached the third rank. It's nighttime, the peak of the Night-Wanderer's strength. If I weren't afraid of revealing my identity and hesitant to use my Moon-Song Roar, I believe I could decide the outcome within ten strikes. Zhang Yuanqing allowed the wooden splinters to embed into his chest, then stepped forward with his right foot, delivering a punch from below upward. Thud! The middle-aged man's body arched like a shrimp, his eyes suddenly bulging outward, blood vessels prominent. At that moment, three official attendants emerged, witnessing the scene. The leading one wore a white suit, had a well-groomed backcombed hairstyle, broad shoulders and a strong frame, exuding commanding presence. He rushed forward two steps, adopting the posture of throwing a spear. Sssshhh— flames erupted from his palm, coalescing into a blazing spear of fire. The attendant roared, then forcefully launched the spear. As the spear shot forth like a streak of light, the middle-aged man snapped his fingers, attempting to summon fire energy, using the flaming spear as a conduit to close the distance between himself and the opponent. Zhang Yuanqing reached out into the air, grasping an official robe—deep indigo in color, bearing the imagery of yin and yang on its back, silver patterns embroidered on the upper section, and flames on the lower. Swish! The robe unfurled and automatically draped itself over Boom! The fire hydrant nearby exploded, a powerful jet of water surged forth like a snow lion or a white dragon, dousing the flame spear. The man in the white suit, just as the flames began to rise on his body, saw them instantly extinguish. He didn't immediately pursue, but instead gave a thoughtful "Hmm," observing the impetuous young man clad in a Taoist robe. This seasoned steward keenly sensed something was amiss. This young man, clearly a seductive spirit-being, had never before controlled water—what was going on with the robe? If it was a tool, why hadn't he drawn it out earlier? Where had his sword gone? A cascade of questions unfolded, growing more perplexing with each thought. At that moment, he saw the very young man who had attempted to assassinate him, sneer, lift his thumb, and with a sharp remark, declare, "The bull-headed man must die!" Then, he turned and dashed off. The white-suited steward's temples bulged with veins, his face growing progressively fierce, until finally, a roar of rage erupted from the crown of his head. He pursued relentlessly, as if driven mad. Five subordinates immediately followed their superior, chasing after the young man with fervor, growing farther and farther behind. Just seconds after they had departed, a young man with pale complexion and bright, alert eyes stepped out of the nightclub, carefully scanning left and right at the entrance, confirming safety before swiftly departing and vanishing into the darkness. "We should be far enough now..." He breathed in the slightly humid night air, paused, then suddenly pounded his fist into the ground, roaring softly, "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" Kou Beiyue kept pounding the ground with his fists, releasing his frustration, until cracks appeared in the cement and his hands were bloodied and bruised. Only then did he take a deep breath and calm himself. He pulled out his phone, intending to call Xiao Yuan and reassure her that he was safe and didn't need to worry. As he turned on the screen, he saw the unfamiliar number that had sent a message half an hour ago: "Get out!" He had already slipped out of the nightclub before that message arrived. "Beep~" He dialed Xiao Yuan's number. The call connected immediately, and Xiao Yuan answered with a cold tone. "Kou Beiyue?" "Xiao Yuan, it's me..." Kou Beiyue unconsciously lowered his voice, as if he were a child who had made a mistake. Then he heard a soft exhalation from the phone, like a well-puffed ball finally deflating at that moment. Just as he thought Xiao Yuan was about to launch into a furious tirade, the voice coming through the speaker was instead— "Where is he? Where's the one who saved you?" "I don't know. After he diverted those official attendants, I just escaped." Kou Beiyue answered honestly. "You're really something!" Xiao Yuan snorted, with a hint of grit in her tone, saying, "Next time you want to find your way to death, don't call me—just die quietly on your own. Don't burden anyone else." Kou Beiyue hung her head, disheartened. "I'll go back and look for him right away," the proud young man said, gritting his teeth. "No need. I've already come." Kou Beiyue suddenly turned around and saw, a few meters behind her, a young figure gradually taking shape in the dim light. He is a young man with an ordinary appearance, a reserved demeanor, and wearing black-framed glasses—often evoking images of "engineering type," "homebody," or "introverted." Is he one of Xiao Yuan's friends? The one who just saved me? That's what Kou Beiyue thought as soon as the idea formed. Then, she heard Xiao Yuan's relieved voice through the speaker: "Hand him the phone." Kou Beiyue tossed the phone over. Zhang Yuanqing reached out, took it, held it to his ear, and smiled: "I'm fine—no injuries, no exposure of my identity." On the other end, there was a quiet pause of about fifteen seconds, and then Xiao Yuan softly said, "Thank you." She then added, "I've agreed to join your group." Zhang Yuanqing's smile spread across his lips, offering a somewhat insincere response: "Oh, please don't say that—this sounds more like a transaction. I'm willing to help because of Xiao Yuan's personal charm. After all, we're all friends, aren't we?" Haha, Xiao Yuan—now you're officially mine. Xiao Yuan took a deep breath, "Anyway, thank you so much. I'll make sure to repay this favor." Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the spirited young man and said, "Then let's put that aside for now. I still have a few things to ask him." He hung up the phone and walked over to the young man, returning the phone, and asked, "What's your name?" As he handed it over, he glanced at the face reflected on the screen. This time, Zhang Yuanqing had changed his appearance—not to Wang Tai, but to a photo he had found online by searching for terms like 'homebody' and 'socially anxious.' With the magic ring of transformation, he could become anyone he wished; he wouldn't limit himself only to Wang Tai. "Kou Beiyue!" the spirited young man studied the much older man and asked, "Are you the Night-Wanderer? From Taiyi Sect? How did you meet Xiao Yuan?" Kou Beiyue, with his considerable experience, immediately deduced from the very moment the man appeared that he was a Night-Wanderer, a 3rd-rank Enchanted-Soother, having studied under Master Wuhen. After asking the question, he realized he had forgotten to express his gratitude and quickly added, "Thank you. Thank you for saving my life—this debt I will surely repay." You're so concerned about how I met Xiao Yuan—by the way, aren't you his son? Zhang Yuanqing spoke calmly, "My saving your life has nothing to do with you. Xiao Yuan will naturally repay me. Now, I'd like to know—why did you choose to assassinate the official of the Wu-Xing Alliance?" Kou Beiyue furrowed her brows. Zhang Yuanqing continued, "Since you know I am the Night-Wanderer, you should understand that the Taiyuan Sect and the Wu-Xing Alliance are closely allied. By killing the official of the Wu-Xing Alliance, you have committed a capital offense. Though I saved your life out of goodwill for Xiao Yuan, I still need a reasonable explanation." Kou Beiyue remained silent for a long time, as though recalling painful memories, then gritted her teeth, "Because he killed my sister. I was born and raised in a rural village in Jinshan City. I dropped out of high school after just a few years due to frequent fights. My sister, however, achieved more Last year, my parents thought I was idle at home, so they sent me to Songhai to join my mother and find a proper job. Everything was going smoothly until one day my sister suddenly disappeared. "It was one day more than a month ago when my sister came back..." At this point, Kou Beiyue's eyes flashed with deep, unyielding resentment. "She was covered in wounds, visibly worn out, and her mental state had deteriorated. I noticed she was wearing slippers—she must have escaped. After returning home, she immediately began packing her things, constantly urging me, 'Get going, get going!' I asked her what had happened, where she had been during this time, but she wouldn't tell me—she only repeated 'Get going, get going!' I couldn't contain myself and raised my voice in questioning, and instead of answering, she froze, dropped to her knees, and clutched her head, pleading with me not to hit her. It's hard to imagine the kind of suffering she endured over that month." Two and a half years later, when recounting these events, the pain and resentment in Kou Beiyue's eyes remain as vivid and intense as ever. Zhang Yuanqing's face gradually lost its expression, and he listened in quiet silence. "What happened afterward?" he asked. "We hadn't even left when that beast came charging after us. Yes, the steward you just dealt with—he killed my sister right in front of me. I can't forget the words he spat out as he murdered her: 'Stinking whore! You dare run? I haven't even finished with you yet, and you're already fleeing!' "Kou Beiyue smiled, cracking her lips to reveal a row of white teeth. "Then I too was killed, but I didn't die. The Spirit Realm granted me a character card, thus reviving me and bestowing me with a second life. Perhaps the Realm feels that there's too much evil in the world, and thus needs to punish evil with evil, and violence with violence." It shouldn't be this way. With the steward's status, what kind of woman couldn't he have? Whether ordinary women or female travelers, as long as he wished, there were always plenty available. Why treat a commoner so harshly? Unless he had a special preference—or some hidden reason. Hmm. If Kou Beiyue's account is true, then I cannot simply ignore this matter. Zhang Yuanqing furrowed his brows, asking, "Then how did he join the team of Wu Hen Master?" "Because I'm afraid of killing. Every time I see the pleas of the weak, their trembling with fear, I can't help but recall the way my sister looked just before she died. If I too become consumed by violence and reveal my claws against the helpless, wouldn't I be no different from the beast that killed my sister?" Kou Beiyue's expression was full of sorrow. You're quite principled—of course, someone who stands out among the evil professions must be a true oddity. Zhang Yuanqing was about to offer his approval when, suddenly, a cheerful voice came from beside them: "Indeed, indeed. To reveal your claws to the weak and treat them like beasts—what's the difference? The essence of killing is to use force against force, to swiftly and efficiently cleanse this corrupt world." Zhang Yuanqing and Kou Beiyue were both startled and turned to look at the speaker together. Under the warm glow of the orange streetlights, a young man stood there, wearing a sports headband, hands behind his back, smiling brightly at them.