Hearing the serious tone of Yuan Shi Tian Zun, Guan Ya and Wei Yuanzhou both turned to Bai Hu Wan Shi. "Regarding violations and misconduct..." Bai Hu Wan Shi immediately looked somewhat embarrassed, stammering, "Why did you suddenly bring this up? I mean, I do sometimes take advantage of my position to earn some extra income—after all, the funds provided by the organization, though not insignificant, aren't enough to cover the down payment for a home in Jinghai City; I'd need to save for at least five years. "But I'm only making a modest side income—just a few hundred thousand—within my limits. Besides, everyone else is doing the same." Wei Yuanzhou, standing by, cleared his throat and expressed his displeasure. "That's your case. I've never taken any side benefits. Don't attribute your shortcomings merely to the environment or society. As long as you remain true to your principles, no amount of corruption can erode your resolve." Bai Hu Wan Shui felt a bit embarrassed: "Wei brother, I simply can't compare with you. You're well-known throughout our division for your integrity. But look—because you don't go along with the crowd, you've been sidelined, and even now, you still haven't been appointed as a steward." Zhang Yuanqing glanced at Guan Ya, who gave a slight nod. It wasn't something like favoritism or backdoor deals that would be out of the question, but when it came to violations of rules and misconduct, Bai Hu Wan Shui only mentioned making quick profits. Given his current frail health and poor mental state, if he were lying, he surely wouldn't be able to conceal it from Guan Ya. Zhang Yuanqing's brows gradually furrowed. Guan Ya said, "Rest well. We'll be staying at the hospital for the next few days. If the assassin who targeted you dares to come, we'll take him down." Upon saying this, she noticed Yuan Shi Tian Zun bowing slightly and quietly stepping out of the room. "Where is he going?" Guan Ya asked. "I'll just head to the restroom!" Zhang Yuanqing replied. Flush the descendants down the toilet one by one—damn it, I'll definitely have to find a way to create something that suppresses desire someday... Zhang Yuanqing muttered under his breath. 10 p.m., Huhu Hotel. Two electric bikes rolled over the uneven road, turned a corner, and approached the hotel, finally parking at the entrance. Kou Beiyue, dressed in a delivery rider's uniform, opened his delivery box, pulled out a stack of food boxes, and led his younger brother with a proud stride into the hotel. "Xiao Yuan, I've brought you some dinner tonight—well, it's just two of us delivering food, but we're making ends meet quickly!" Kou Beiyue placed the food on the front desk and said with confidence. The plump rider removed his helmet, politely unfastened the packages, and voiced his own question: "Two riders should definitely earn more than one, but, boss, there are so many ways to earn money—why do we have to deliver food?" Kou Beiyue replied naturally: "Because we don't know what else to do." The plump young man opened his mouth, only to find himself at a loss for words, and settled down to unfasten the bag, one by one placing out the food trays. After a few seconds, he added with a note of doubt: "Wait, earning money isn't difficult at all. You're now a Saint, aren't you? You could simply sell off the items from the transcendent stage and become a millionaire in no time." Before Kuo Beiyue could respond, the small round woman calmly said: "If the items from the transcendent stage are no longer used, we will donate them to the transcendent practitioners within our organization, enhancing their ability to handle dangers and ensuring their survival rates." The young man suddenly understood. He knew that the master had a loose network of practitioners scattered across various locations, who would only gather at the Wuhen Hotel during the master's lectures. At that moment, a deep, resonant chime echoed from deep within the hotel, followed by an elderly man, his face etched with lines of weariness and suffering, stepping out into the hall. He wore a slightly creased pair of old leather shoes, a cheap short-sleeve shirt priced at just ten or fifteen yuan, and equally modest black trousers. The elder’s skin was dark and luminous, etched with deep wrinkles, much like a hardworking farmer tending fields or a laborer on construction sites striving to make a living. One could easily see the wear and tear of life etched into his face. “Zhang Uncle?” When he saw the elder, Kou Beiyue beamed with surprise, saying, “How come you’ve come? I just bought dinner—why don’t we share it?” The elder, with a look of evident hardship, shook his head slightly. “I’ve come to consult Master Wuhen about something important—I’ve got matters to attend to, so I won’t eat.” After a moment’s hesitation, he looked at Kou Beiyue and asked, “I heard from Xiao Yuan that your sister’s case has been resolved, is that right?” Kou Beiyue nodded firmly. “From now on, I have no attachments—I’ll focus entirely on training under Master Wuhen. By the way, it was the Yuanshiyuan, the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign "That young man is quite talented—I have to admit he's just a little better than me. He's very friendly to people like us. I'll introduce you two sometime." Hearing this, a genuine smile finally broke through the weathered lines on his face: "That's good. That's good. Bei Yue, you're truly fortunate..." He seemed reserved, repeatedly saying words like "fortunate" and "that's good," then falling silent, a bit awkward and reserved, his gaze shifting toward the younger, plump man. Kou Bei Yue quickly introduced: "He's our new member, 'Liang Chen Zhe Zhu Er Shi.' He's my younger brother. Uncle Zhang is a veteran of our organization—he's a very kind person." It was clear that Kou Bei Yue deeply appreciated this gentle elder. A simple, quiet farmer—reserved, somewhat dull, not particularly eloquent or skilled in social interactions—was the younger man's first impression of Uncle Zhang. He bowed respectfully and said, "Uncle Zhang!" A moment of hesitation flickered across the older man's slightly reserved expression. Kou Beiyue said, "Uncle Zhang, I heard from Xiao Yuan that you were injured recently by officials—by whom? Is it serious? Now that I've become a Saint, I can send my younger brother to avenge your injury." Uncle Zhang paused, then shook his head: "Not serious at all, Beiyue, Xiao Yuan. I'll go back now." He nodded once to Xiao Fu. Kou Beiyue said, "Take your time, Uncle." After Uncle Zhang had stepped out of the hotel, Kou Beiyue turned to Xiao Fu and said, "Uncle Zhang is actually quite old—old enough to be my grandfather. But everyone calls him Uncle Zhang, so I do too. Just follow me. He's a bit reserved in nature, but has a warm heart and is always willing to help younger people. Whenever you need assistance, feel free to go to him. However, he doesn't visit the Wuhen Hotel very often, so you might not see him often. Ah, I haven't bought much food for the evenings. With Uncle Zhang leaving, it'll be better—otherwise, we won't have enough to eat." Is a freelance person naturally kind? If someone else had said it, Xiao Fat would have scoffed. But after these several days of getting to know him, he now deeply understands that this is an organization dedicated to self-redemption. Xiao Yuan watched the elder's retreating figure, her brows slightly furrowed. ... Jinghai City People's Hospital. In the lounge outside the Special Care Ward, Zhang Yuanqing sat in a high-back chair, a freshly eaten meal box and a canned beer placed beside his chair. "Captain Wei, how long have you been promoted to Saint status, and yet you haven't advanced to the rank of Guardian?" Zhang Yuanqing took a sip of chilled cola, gazing at the man across from him. The entire floor of the Special Care Ward has been cleared out, ordinary patients transferred to other wards. Official Wayfarers are now stationed at the hallways and elevator entrances. Guan Ya, with her keen insight, has taken over the hospital's control room, while Xiao Green Tea is stationed in an adjacent ward, using props to monitor the surrounding activity. All they need is for the murderer to arrive, and then they will rise together to confront him. Wei Yuanzhou held a bottle of beer in his hands, smiled, "To be promoted to the rank of steward, one must achieve three or more C-level feats, or one B-level feat. Everyone says that B-level achievements come at the cost of one's life, while A-level feats are reserved for the elders. You're a prodigy, so you may not fully understand the hardships of ordinary practitioners." "No, no, no," Zhang Yuanqing countered, with a touch of sentiment, "My achievements were also earned at the cost of my life." "I thought you'd be like White Tiger Wansui described—uncompromising, standing apart, thus being sidelined," Zhang Yuanqing said. Wei Yuanzhou replied seriously, "Integrity is the foundation. I do indeed tend to stand apart, but I wouldn't say I'm excluded. As long as you focus on your duties, the organization will eventually notice you—just it takes time." "I've been too superficial," Zhang Yuanqing said, raising his canned cola. He appreciated the gentle, careful nature of the plague deity, and was considering whether to transfer him to Songhai, even though his achievements weren't yet sufficient for a position as a steward there—still, he could recommend him to Fu Qingyang to serve as a patrol team leader. Since patrol teams track fugitives, it's more conducive to accumulating merits, and once enough merits are gathered, Wei Yuanzhou could later return to Jinghai City to serve as a steward. However, securing a steward position in Songhai remains challenging—being a direct-administered municipality, Songhai typically appoints stewards at the 5th or 6th level of Saint rank, with only a few at the 4th level. Wei Yuanzhou smiled, lifted his beer can, and took a sip. Zhang Yuanqing said: "Fellow Captain Wei, have you considered..." Suddenly, a hurried voice came through the earpiece from Xie Lingxi: "Brother Yuanshi, I heard one of our patrol staff collapsed in the hallway—there was a brief struggle, but they're still breathing, not dead—just unconscious..." The attackers have arrived! When did they infiltrate the hospital? Why didn't Guan Ya issue an alert? There's no surveillance in the hallways—yet he chose to first eliminate the enemies already stationed there... Zhang Yuanqing suddenly sat up. Wei Yuanchou, across the table, also set down his beer can, his expression now serious. He too was wearing earbuds and had heard Xie Lingxi's voice. Zhang Yuanqing pressed his earbuds, asking, "Did you hear the footsteps of the attackers? In which direction?" Xie Lingxi's voice came through: "He's here, coming toward our floor... uh..." The sound in the earbuds cut off abruptly, replaced by the soft, delicate murmurs of Xiao Lǜcha. The very next moment, Zhang Yuanqing and Wei Yuanchou at the round table both felt their legs give way, their heads spin, and a wave of intense fatigue and drowsiness surged through their bodies. At the same time, Zhang Yuanqing heard the extraordinary travelers' sounds of falling—soft, rhythmic "puff" as they collapsed in the hallway. Wei Yuanzhou quickly retrieved a fresh,嫩 green leaf from his inventory, held it in his mouth, and said in a steady tone: "It's an odorless, tasteless paralyzing gas—likely originating from the ventilation ducts or the central air conditioning system. The toxicity isn't severe, but it significantly weakens our combat effectiveness..." He immediately deduced the attacker's strategy based on the condition of his colleagues. The more potent the venom, the stronger the scent, and thus the sooner it would be noticed. The attacker was clever—using the hospital's ventilation system to deliver a slow, steady assault, gradually paralyzing the official agents within the building. Zhang Yuanqing exhaled, "I've got it." What tactical approach would a skilled toxin specialist adopt when facing a numerical disadvantage? During private discussions, Li Chunfeng had suggested—delivering the gas through the ventilation ducts. Therefore, Zhang Yuanqing assigned the lively young attendant and the ghost bride to monitor the central air conditioning and ventilation systems, and issued a detox pill crafted by the wood spirit to each on-duty official agent. To his surprise, he was still caught off guard. Zhang Yuanqing suspected that the medium had performed a particularly elaborate prayer before setting out, adding a powerful boost to his efforts. Calmly, he summoned the Mountain God's Staff—the item that came with a high price but offered exceptional strength—and gripped it firmly, activating its extraordinary power. Instantly, a strong force surged from the staff, flowing through his body, instantly dispelling any fatigue or weakness in his muscles. With the staff in hand, Zhang Yuanqing strode out of the lounge and just in time spotted a man in a dark coat, hunched over, wearing a mask, rushing toward the special care ward with bright lights illuminating the corridor. "Thud!" He braced the staff against the floor, and a ripple of green spread out, instantly reviving the potted plants lining the corridor, which quickly grew and extended vines, wrapping around the advancing figure. The enemy, draped in a coat and hunched over, proved remarkably agile, sidestepping and lightly leaping over one vine after another, finally launching himself upward, landing on the wall to evade a lash from a vine that just missed him, arriving precisely before Zhang Yuanqing. From beneath the black robe, a steel-gaunted arm extended, its palm broad and resembling that of a large rodent's forepaw, with sharp, keen nails. "Whoa!" The clawed palm sliced through the air, emitting a clear, resonant cry, effortlessly tearing through the young man holding the staff. Yet this was only a phantom. The hunched seer paused momentarily, then lay his body sideways, pressing his back firmly against the wall, as though evading an unseen force. "Crash!" The ground beneath him was shattered into fragments. The young man holding the staff emerged into view. With the first strike missing, Zhang Yuanqing immediately launched himself into the air, demonstrating exceptional flexibility, his foot tip "cracking" against the seer's jaw. At the same time, he caught a glimpse of the spirit-medium’s half-face: dark, mouse-like eyes, white hair at the temples, deep fish-mouth wrinkles around the eyes, clearly aged. The spirit-medium’s body suddenly collapsed, then nimbly sidestepped again. Thud! Zhang Yuan’s snake-like kick left a deep crater in the wall. Without hesitation, he activated the Star-Flight Technique, his body transforming into a dreamlike constellation, just evading the spirit-medium’s swipe aimed at his ankle. When Zhang Yuan reappeared several meters away, his face was pale, with numerous worm-like protrusions rising beneath his skin, slowly crawling. He was poisoned, and his body was invaded by egg sacs. The air was filled with toxic vapor and dust-like egg sacs, entering his body with each breath. “Cough! Cough! Cough…” Suddenly, the spirit-medium began to cough violently, feeling tightness in his chest, discomfort in his throat, and difficulty breathing. His forehead also warmed up. He was now ill—pathogens were attacking his immune system, causing various discomforts. It was Wei Yuanshou in the lounge who released the pathogens. At that moment, a door down the corridor was violently kicked open, and a red-haired young woman burst out, instantly igniting a fierce blaze within her petite frame, crashing like a meteor into the spirit-medium. The spirit-medium, already feeling unwell, had just raised her arms to block the impact. Yet, without a sound, a figure dressed in a vibrant red wedding gown, cradling a baby, materialized silently behind her, completing the fusion. "Boom!" The meteoric force struck the spirit-medium square in the chest, hurling him backward with force, spewing blood and leaving his front torso blackened. Seizing the moment, Zhang Yuancheng, drawing upon the robust vitality of the Night-Wanderer, suppressed the parasites and toxins within, holding the Mountain God's staff in his left hand and summoning his Blood-Drinking Blade in his right, swiftly pursuing the spirit-medium now fused with the figure. The sharp willow blade pierced the enemy squarely through the chest. Yet Zhang Yuancheng knew that, given the spirit-medium's vitality, such an attack would not be sufficient to kill him. Drawn calm, he sheared toward his opponent's neck, intent on severing his head. The spirit master, severely wounded, landed heavily and then seemed to lose his dexterity—his movements grew clumsy, unable to effectively evade the attacks. His agility had been traded for the little comic. To handle a Level 4 spirit master, he didn't need to deploy all his tools or invoke skills such as the Moon's Roar or Divine Soaring. At that moment, a tremendous "crash" echoed from the ward beside Zhang Yuanqing—the floor-to-ceiling window shattered. A dark figure surged through the broken glass, darted across the ward in an instant, and collided with Zhang Yuanqing, knocking him off his feet. The figure moved so swiftly that Zhang Yuanqing barely had time to react. He could only roll and simultaneously summon the Night Soaring technique to conceal himself. The figure did not pursue him further, but instead seized the spirit master's shoulders, carried him into the ward, and then soared through the broken window. Zhang Yuanqing's gaze followed the other person, and amidst the helicopter-like whir of her wings, he saw the sensuous, black-and-yellow spotted abdomen, and the familiar yet unfamiliar silhouette. Xiao Yuan? He was stunned.