Zhang Yuanqing and Xiao Yuan immediately fell silent, Xiao Yuan sitting back in her high-backed chair, her long legs neatly together, turning her face toward him, while Zhang Yuanqing did the same, turning his face to her. It was just like a couple who had just argued and were now holding out stubbornly against each other. Between the roles of "companion" and "justice," neither had truly understood the other. Kou Beiyue fully grasped this. He knew how deeply Xiao Yuan felt about her companions—she was the most trusted assistant of Wu Chen, responsible for recruiting, evaluating, and documenting all team members. Besides a few founding elders, the majority of the team had been developed by her, whom she personally assessed, engaged, and eventually introduced to Wu Chen. As the front desk of Wu Chen's guesthouse, she was also the front desk of the entire team. Over the past few years, Xiao Yuan had watched one by one her companions leave, remaining silent and observing quietly. Yet each time someone departed, Kou Beiyue noticed her sitting alone on the rooftop of the guesthouse, often staying there all night. In such groups, people often feel profoundly lonely—they need companions with shared values to walk the journey together. Kou Beiyue also understood Yuan Shǐ Tianzūn. He would never forget that evening, when, as they were leaving the security officer’s house, Yuan Shǐ Tianzūn suddenly said he wanted to smoke, only to cough violently right after taking a deep breath. It turned out he never smoked before. After finishing his cigarette, he went straight to the Copper Rooster Pavilion—despite the fact that it was a place of peril. And yet, this incident had nothing to do with him. "Xiao Yuan, you've always been curious about my past, haven't you? Well, here's my story—just as I'm about to tell it..." The elderly man on the bed stared blankly at the ceiling. This reserved man, after much hesitation and thought, spoke in a hoarse voice: "Have you ever heard of the case of the entire family wiped out in Qinghe County, Yusheng Province?" "Not really..." thought Zhang Yuan, who rarely paid attention to the news. Xiao Yuan furrowed her brows and thought for a few seconds, then said, "The case involving a family of seven, with only an eight-year-old child left?" The elder looked up at the ceiling, his voice weather "Xiao Yuan wasn't surprised, since people like them usually carried cases of death with them. All she wanted to know was the reason. 'Why?' 'As an evil profession, our hands are stained with blood, and we live among the spirits of the deceased, claiming lives from the world. That's exactly what Guipu said—so well put. I simply couldn't find the words.' Mr. Zhang smiled and began to recall his early life. 'I was just a farmer who never went to school. Besides farming, I had no other skills. I had four children with my wife—my first child died shortly after birth, one passed away from illness, another was taken away by traffickers, and only one remained. Back then, life was hard. People had to work from dawn till dusk just to get enough food. Children were often neglected, and every household had at least one child who didn't survive. To have just one child left alive was already a great blessing." "When I raised my son until he was twenty-two, I married him off, and the following year he had a big, healthy son—my grandson is absolutely adorable, so much like his father when he was young..." Zhang Yuanqing and Xiao Yuan listened as he spoke at length, neither of them interrupting, because when recalling these memories, there was a light in his eyes that softened his usually weary and troubled expression. "When the grandson turned six, both my wife and I died in a car accident—we were run over and killed. I heard the person who caused the collision had been drinking, and he abandoned the car right there, staggering away—whether that was true or not, I'm not sure." "His family has considerable influence in the area—wealthy and well-connected. During the legal proceedings, they managed to secure a mental illness certificate for him, and then he was cleared of any responsibility." "The lawyer told me that killing someone while mentally ill is legally permissible. As a farmer, I don't understand the law, nor do I know what this means." The elder smiled, a sad, helpless smile: "Hm. There's simply no room for argument." "I won't accept it. I said if I can't win the case in court, I'll go to Beijing to appeal directly. And so they sent people to beat me—seven or eight of them pressed me down on the field, pressing my face into the mud and water, causing me intense pain that has lasted me for half my life. Then, every day, people would wander around my home, taking away my ID card and refusing to let me take the bus. They threatened me: if I didn't want my children to suffer any mishaps, I should just stop making a fuss. Everyone told me to give up—my children were so young, after all, someone had to take care of them. After thinking it over, I decided to just go along with it. I couldn't afford to send him to school through farming alone, so I took short jobs during the off-season, saving one dollar at a time. By the time he entered high school, I had saved several tens of thousands, and I felt confident he would have a solid path to university. That's when I finally did something I had once failed to accomplish. That year during the Spring Festival, I bought a sharp knife, kept it tucked in my waist, took the bus into the city, and killed the entire family—two generations. I couldn't bring myself to harm the little child, so I let it go. Afterward, I fled Qinghe County, wandering around, hiding from view for several years, stealing when necessary and living as a beggar. The only person I never let go of was my grandson. I hoped to see him one last time after he graduated and got married, then go into custody. Unbeknownst to me, I eventually became a spiritual traveler, meeting Master Wuhen. After hearing my story, he invited me to join him in spiritual practice—forgiving the past, starting anew, and becoming a new person. "But I've always cared about my grandson. I wanted to see how he was doing, so I quietly returned to my hometown, Qinghe County. Only then did I learn that, after the family massacre, he was afraid of retaliation from relatives and moved away from Qinghe County—his whereabouts have since remained unknown." Speaking these words, Zhang Shi looked toward Yuan Shǐ Tian Zūn, his voice weathered and slightly hoarse, yet gentle: "Master Yuan Shǐ, you are a good man. If I had met someone like you back then, I might not have ended up where I am today. Bei Yue is truly fortunate—I'm very envious of him." Zhang Yuanqing remained silent, expression neutral, unsure of what expression to adopt in response to this praise—so he simply kept his face expressionless. Zhang Shi continued: "About a month and a half ago, I met him in Jinghai City. He has become a spiritual realm traveler and joined the Five Elements Alliance, now holding a formal position—what a wonderful development. "After further inquiry, I found that his situation isn't very strong—he keeps struggling to advance in his career. This young man is so sincere, not very polished or adaptable." Zhang Yuanqing heard this and his heart skipped a beat. He suddenly lifted his head, fixing his gaze on the elder. "Your grandson is... Wei Yuanzhou?" The elder nodded slowly. "He was born Wei Yuanzhou. I don't go by Zhang—my surname is Wei." Zhang Yuanqing was taken aback, momentarily stunned. "Then, why did you carry out the assassination of Bai Hu Wanniu, Wei Yuanzhou? Does he know about all this?" "This time, the killing quest in the Transcendent Realm saw a significant number of members from the Order of Harmony promoted to Sage rank. With limited positions among the Officers, Yuanzhou has waited for so many years. I couldn't allow anyone to interfere with his career. This is the final thing I could do for him—my way of making amends. He doesn't know about what I've done. If he did, he would surely have stopped me." The elder tilted his head slightly and looked at Xiao Yuan. "I'm sorry. I have let down Wuhen Master, and I have let down all of you. That's all I have to say." Zhang Yuanqing stood motionless by the window for a long time, then suddenly rubbed At that moment, he thought to himself, perhaps it was better to call it off—after all, the White Tiger was still alive, and he could compensate him in a more subtle way. But as soon as the words formed in his mouth, he said, "Thank you for informing me. By protocol, I must arrest you. Do you have anything you'd like to say?" The elderly man's voice was frail. "Please give me one day," he said. "I still have a few matters to attend to. I'll return to the Wuhen Hotel tomorrow evening and come with you." Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "Very well. I'll be waiting for you at the Wuhen Hotel. I hope you'll keep your promise." He then turned to Xiao Yuan. "I'll advocate on his behalf and strive for life imprisonment!" Xiao Yuan's expression remained neutral—neither joyful nor sorrowful—she simply nodded. Zhang Yuanqing looked at her once more, hesitated, then said nothing, and walked straight out of the room. In the corridor, Kou Beiyue leaned against the wall, his head bowed, standing silently. His face was filled with disappointment. Zhang Yuanqing had intended to ask him to fetch Zhang's room key so that he could stay at the adjacent room. But seeing the situation, he simply remained silent, his body transforming into a streak of starlight and vanishing directly into the room. The room was pitch black, yet for the night wanderer, darkness was the true stage. He went to the bathroom, washed his face and brushed his teeth, then returned to the room, lay down on the bed, sent a text message to Guan Ya to report that he was safe, and then stared blankly at the dark ceiling. The story of Uncle Zhang kept replaying in his mind, as if he saw an old farmer, once bent and unable to stand upright, tirelessly tilling the fields year after year, with hands rough and cracked, stubbornly raising his grandson. Until the day of the family massacre, when he finally straightened his back again, only to become a fugitive. Once more, the words spoken by the platoon leader echoed in his ears: "Evil professions are the very fires of humanity's own nature." He detested the evil professions, yet he sympathized with them—sympathizing with the "unworthy fathers" unwilling to reconcile with the world, with the wronged Kou Beiyue, and with Zhang Shi, who endured humiliation for the sake of his grandson. Now he understood what drove a humble farmer into the realm of evil professions. Yet, as Zhang Shi had said, all of this... simply couldn't be justified! Wei Yuanzhou listened carefully, nodded slowly, and after a moment of silence, asked, "What if he can't protect you?" Zhang Shi shook his head. "Then it's his life—his life. He's survived this long, and he's already lived more than enough. That's all." The lines of weathered lines on his face softened with tenderness. "Xiao Zhou, just seeing you like this now, I'm already satisfied. These years, I've let you down, made you suffer... so much." Wei Yuanzhou waved his hand, cutting him off. "I understand. With so many people here, you should go back first." Zhang Shi looked at him several times, as if trying to imprint his grandson's face into memory, before reluctantly turning and walking away. Just a few steps in, a voice from Wei Yuanzhou called out behind him: "Grandfather, you're deliberately not killing him, aren't you?" Zhang Shi stopped, silent. Wei Yuanzhou spoke firmly: "If you don't kill him, how can I serve as the steward? I told you before—because of you, my family's standing has always remained at 'below beta'." Unless I achieve a great feat, I won't be able to compete with him. "You've already harmed me once—why won't you help me now?" Zhang Su's weathered face, etched with the lines of time, said. "Grandfather doesn't want to kill people..." Just as he finished speaking, he suddenly began to cough violently. "Cough! Cough! Cough..." Thick phlegm seemed lodged in his throat; he gasped and strained, his voice hoarse, his face turning red, his forehead hot, exhaling waves of steaming breath. He was seriously ill. "Pffft!" A sharp blade pierced his heart from behind, emerging through his chest. At his side, Wei Yuanzhou's voice, strained with effort, whispered: "Grandfather, if you go to the Songhai Branch, I will surely be exposed—you won't be able to hide me from them. Rather than risk that, why not give me the credit? With your contribution, I'll be promoted to the position of steward. You've always hoped for that, haven't you?" The overwhelming pain surged through him—indistinct whether it came from his heart or from within. Zhang Su's eyes, once clouded with pain, tenderness, and disappointment, showed no surprise—eventually all of them transformed into serene acceptance. His lips trembled slightly as he uttered his final words: "That's fine..." This was all his grandfather could give you. ... "Ring, ring..." Hearing the familiar phone ring, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly sat up in bed, as if startled from death's embrace, his heart momentarily stopping. He pulled out his phone from beneath the pillow and glanced at the caller ID—it was Guan Ya. Didn't she say she'd be back that evening? What business was there for her to call so early in the morning? Yuanqing muttered a few complaints to himself as he answered, lazily saying, "Guan Ya, you don't need to wake me up in the middle of the night just to think of me. In my dreams, you were so sweet—constantly swaying your hips at me." Guan Ya replied with a scowl, "Are you planning to keep watching me sway my hips just in your dreams, or are you actually coming back with us to Songhai?" Yuanqing paused, startled: "Back to Songhai?" "I told you to wait at the hospital, and I'll handle this case—don't worry, just wait for updates." Guan Ya said, "It's already been handled. The attacker from last night has been killed." "What?!" Zhang Yuanqing jolted upright, all drowsiness gone.