Can we meet today? Zhang Yuanqing perked up and said, "Is he in Songhai? Give me his contact information and address." Zhang's mom replied, "I'll send you a text message shortly. That gentleman is a very successful businessman abroad and a key business partner of mine. When you meet him, pay attention to your manners and demeanor—this is something you're quite good at." She was quite confident in her son's social skills. "I know. My foreign language skills are quite decent," Zhang Yuanqing said. Today, Mom was unusually free and didn't immediately end the call. "From what I hear from your grandmother, you've been staying up late every day playing games with Yuer? That might be affecting your studies," she said. What good is studying if the teachers won't teach me how to navigate the spiritual realm? Zhang Yuanqing replied, "Don't let your grandmother exaggerate. I only play games with my cousin on weekends. The rest of the time, I play alone." Mrs. Zhang sighed helplessly, "Your grandmother means that you shouldn't always hang out with Yuer on weekends. She's ready to meet a boyfriend now and can't keep focusing on you. You're both about the same age and both at the age when you should be dating—staying together all the time isn't ideal." Zhang Yuanqing pursed his lips, glanced at his phone—seeing no message from his mother—and rose to sit at the desk. He opened his computer, logged into the official database, and searched—Chìyuè Ān. "Having become a Saint for over a year, he must have faced several solo dungeons—perhaps four or five—and numerous group dungeons—over a dozen—during which, even with wins and losses, he has accumulated sufficient experience to approach level 5. Last night, choosing not to press him and escaping through a charm spell was a wise move." Regardless of equipment, there's a significant gap between level 4 and level 4. The difference between a Saint and a Transcendent is even more staggering. Kou Beiyue must have several key assets in his hand before he dares to attack a Saint. Yet, he still failed. Zhang Yuanqing quietly resolved to investigate privately and submit the gathered evidence to Fu Qingyang, making sure not to expose himself, for otherwise, facing off against a steward would be a long-term liability. Behind him lies the Zhu family. "Ding!" His phone emitted a brief, clear chime. Zhang Yuanqing glanced away from his computer, picked up the phone, and checked the message. Mage-Eye Emperor: "You've purged my mark?" Crap! Zhang Yuanqing felt a tingle in his scalp and composed himself, responding calmly, "What's the issue?" I should immediately have Wang Tai lock down his position. Five elders surged forward, as if suspecting him of having a hidden plan—could it be that other Tian Wangs from the Bing Zhuang Sect had arrived as well? Tian Wang of the Mysterious Eye: "The power of the Sun God cannot be controlled by an extraordinary-stage Night Wanderer. I've investigated Yuan Ting—heard he was summoned to the capital recently. On the official forum of Tai Men, there are daily videos of him being tormented. You're not him!" Zhang Yuanqing was startled, nearly dropping his phone. After a moment's thought, he replied, "So, who exactly are you? And why do you act so strangely?" Tian Wang of the Mysterious Eye: "Hm. The incidents I caused in Song Hai a few days ago—you, as a Level 3 Night Wanderer, should have heard about them. Why pretend not to recognize me? Indeed, Night Wanderers capable of wielding the power of the Sun God are not many. Finding your identity won't be difficult, unless you've never actually used that Zhang Yuanqing responded with firm resolve. "Haven't they told you that my magical eyes can locate Spirit Realm travelers? Though Songhai is vast, Kangyang District isn't that large—given a bit of time, I'm certain I'll find you. I suspect when I finally do, your expression will be quite entertaining." Are you truly bored, constantly seeking Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun and Zheng Sha Palace Master while simultaneously threatening the official travelers for amusement? Zhang Yuanqing silently closed the secondary card, choosing not to reply. He'd rather delete the Magician of the Eye King, yet he felt that having a friend at his side would allow him to indirectly influence the Magician's attitude and movements. Perhaps the phone location feature will prove useful one day. "The fact that I can harness the power of the Sun God—how many people actually know about this? It's not exactly good news. With so many leads emerging for the Magician, how long can I keep this secret? Zheng Sha Palace Master is far better at enduring than I am..." Just as he was thinking this, his mother's message arrived late. It was a photo of a business card, bearing her name, contact information, and her official position. Her mother had also written down the address of Songhai on the business card. Bill Tarantino, Director of the Marketing Department at Ant Pharmaceutical Company. Ant Pharmaceutical... Zhang Yuanqing opened his computer and searched for information about the company online. After reviewing the details, he was amazed—Ant Pharmaceutical was a globally renowned pharmaceutical company, ranked among the top ten pharmaceutical giants worldwide. "Mom's career is more successful than I ever imagined," Zhang Yuanqing noted on his phone and dialed the number on the card. "Beep... beep..." The phone rang twice before connecting. A woman answered, immediately delivering a series of foreign words. Zhang Yuanqing understood most of it and replied in English: "I'm Chen Shu's son, looking for Mr. Tarantino." "Please wait a moment while I check the appointment..." A few seconds later, the woman said, "Good news—Mr. Tarantino has been expecting you. Could you kindly provide your address? We'll send a dedicated vehicle to pick you up." "No, thank you. I'll come myself." Zhang Yuanqing is now very concerned about the confidentiality of his residential information. "Good! Is there anything else I can assist you with?" "Could you please have Mr. Bill clean up and wait for me?" Zhang said, "No, I'll go right now." After ending the call, he put on his shoes, then went to the wardrobe and pulled out the tailored suit that Li Dongze had specially ordered for him. He dressed himself in front of the full-length mirror by the window. As a meticulous and elegant chief, he required his subordinates to wear business attire to work, so he had specially commissioned a suit for him. Later, however, as Zhang achieved significant accomplishments and gradually gained prominence, the chief's expectations toward him began to decline. From requiring him to prepare a refreshing juice from the refrigerator to eventually allowing him to work in casual attire. Even when the chief suspected that Zhang and Guan Ya were exchanging lessons in the restroom, he only offered a passing comment: "There are hotels nearby; working within the office isn't very elegant." In full business attire, Zhang quietly left his bedroom, slipped out of the house, and hailed a taxi by the roadside, heading toward the International Building. The International Tower is one of the landmark buildings in the central CBD of Songhai, housing many renowned financial firms, and a preferred location for overseas companies to establish their mainland offices. As Songhai serves as a gateway for foreign capital, there are numerous such buildings throughout the city, with the International Tower being the most prominent. It's now peak commuting hour, and groups of well-dressed professionals stride across the streets in a steady flow, rushing toward various office towers. The bustling crowds and dense traffic have become a defining scene of Songhai's CBD. Most of these office workers cannot afford to rent homes in the CBD and must take over 40 minutes on the subway each day. Their first task upon waking is not to enjoy breakfast, but to rush out early, squeezing into the subway trains to avoid being late. Their lives move at a swift pace—so fast that even Zhang Yuanqing, a rare beauty among men, often goes unnoticed by his sisters and aunties, who are entirely focused on the traffic lights. As soon as the green light flashed, he hurried across the pedestrian walkway, never pausing for a moment. Zhang Yuanqing followed the group of office workers, crossed the street, and reached the lobby of the International Building, where he then dialed Bill Tarantino's number. "I have to swipe my employee card to enter the building—I can't make it in," he said in somewhat imperfect English. "Hold on a moment." A few minutes later, a man in a navy suit and white shirt emerged from the building, surveyed the scene, and announced loudly, "Which of you is Mr. Zhang?" Zhang raised his hand and pointed to his location. The man studied him with a warm smile and said, "Mr. Tarantino's assistant sent me down to meet you." They waited for a long time at the lobby before finally squeezing into an elevator. The suit man gently held out his arm to clear space for Zhang, apologizing, "I'm sorry, but it's always so crowded at this time of day." Zhang hadn't yet reached the typical age for a job interview, nor had he ever been to such a place—so he remained composed, nodding politely without offering any comment. The elevator stopped at the 37th floor, and he followed the suit-wearing man out of the car. The entire 37th floor was occupied by Anter Pharmaceutical's office space. The man led him to the marketing department and said to the receptionist, "Annie's client has arrived—please let her know." The receptionist nodded slightly, picked up the telephone, and shortly thereafter, a tall woman in a white blouse and skirt stepped out from within. She was around thirty, with long golden hair and sea-blue eyes that shimmered with a gentle, spring-like charm. Her features were refined and three-dimensional, making her a truly elegant and captivating presence. As she approached, her presence felt like a gentle spring breeze, subtly stirring a sense of warmth and desire in the male office staff, drawing their quiet admiration. The foreign woman glanced at Zhang Yuanqing with a smile, extended her hand, and spoke fluently in Chinese, "Hello, I'm Annie. You're younger than I expected." "Hello, hello!" Zhang Yuanqing reached out and gently grasped her hands, unconsciously squeezing the soft, smooth ones a few times, and praised, "Your Chinese is better than I expected." Hearing this, Anne beamed with pride, "Chinese is difficult to learn, but I've fully mastered it in just three years." She didn't withdraw her hands, letting the young man enjoy his tofu, her smile growing more alluring. "Oh my goodness, what a woman blessed by God! Your linguistic talent is truly astonishing—unlike me, who has spent half a lifetime studying foreign languages and still struggles with pronunciation, though I've been truly dedicated and promise you I have." Zhang Yuanqing said. Anne paused, then replied, "I can hold a normal conversation with you—there's no need for me to speak standard British Chinese." "Oh, God, that's wonderful!" Zhang Yuanqing exclaimed happily. "…." Anne forced a smile and said, "Come with me, Mr. Tarantino is waiting for you." Zhang Yuanqing finally reluctantly released his grip, following the female assistant toward the interior. Throughout the journey, his gaze seemed to lose control, magnetically drawn to Anne’s hips. The rounded hips, wrapped in her skirt, resembled a ripe peach or a full moon, stirring a hormonal excitement within him. This woman... Not long after, they paused at the minister’s office. Anne lightly knocked on the brown wooden door and in English said, “Mr. Tarantini, your guest has arrived.” A rich male voice responded from within, “Come in!” Anne opened the office door and led Zhang Yuanqing inside. The office was exquisitely furnished. To the right stood a handcrafted wooden desk, with a small striped flag standing upright at its upper right corner. To the left was the reception area, featuring soft sofas, a glass coffee table, and a wine cabinet. Seated at the wooden desk was a foreign man dressed in a light casual suit, with short, warm brown hair, a well-defined facial structure, and fine fish-eye wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His eyes were deep and calm, reflecting a quiet sense of experience and maturity, making him a distinguished middle-aged man with a refined presence. Bill Tarantino rose slowly, smiled as he walked toward the guest sofa, and said, "Good morning, Mr. Zhang. Shall I have my assistant prepare breakfast for you?" "Thank you," Zhang Yuanqing shook his head and declined, then settled into the soft sofa. Bill Tarantino sat down across from him, gently remarked, "I've been a close business partner with your mother. She's a capable and strong-willed woman—someone I greatly admire, though I also find challenging, as she's always assertive and direct during negotiations. "Yet she has one key strength: exceptional efficiency. She never engages in empty formalities or tedious social obligations—something I've found many mainland businesspeople lack." She just wants to make money as quickly as possible from you foreigners—after all, she’s the kind of workaholic who’d complain about the efficiency of a parent-teacher conference. Zhang Yuanqing mentally rolled her eyes at her mother, yet smiled warmly: "Tarantino, thank you for your kind words. Like my mother, I dislike inefficient communication. Do you know what my purpose for visiting today was?" Bill Tarantino leaned back on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his hands folded over his abdomen, and replied, "You're referring to the medicine for your headache, aren't you?" Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "I'm curious about this medicine—besides Anter Pharmaceutical, I can't find it anywhere else, nor can I gather any information about it. My mother says it's a new drug developed by your company. Honestly, that doesn't convince me. Developing a new drug requires substantial investment. For a rare, less common condition, it simply can't generate significant profits for you." Bill Tarantino paused for a few seconds, then said, "You're right—the drug wasn't developed specifically for your illness. It merely alleviates your headache. The drug we've developed, however, addresses all kinds of spiritual issues and heals the wounds sustained by the soul. Excuse me—my explanation was a bit off. Let me correct myself: it's specifically mental. In Chinese, the term 'spirit' is more accurate." Addressing the wounds sustained by the soul... Zhang Yuanqing remained silent.