I was going to see the Master of Zhishi Palace—why has the sky turned dark and stormy? Could it be that the Master is in danger? Zhang Yuanqing felt a surge of anxiety, and without a word, picked up his phone to call the Master of Zhishi Palace. "Beep… beep…" A few seconds later, the call connected, and a soothing, graceful female voice filled the speaker: "I'm asleep, haven't you heard? You said we were meeting tonight—so eager to see me, are you?" Upon hearing this voice, Zhang Yuanqing was momentarily stunned. Not only because the Master still had time and energy to be affectionate, which meant she was safe, but also because of the tone. In the past, whenever he spoke with her, she always carried a warm, composed demeanor—like a seasoned, accomplished lady—her tone consistently steady. Only when he questioned her about her father's past did she shed her lightness and adopt a more serious tone. This was actually quite unusual. People naturally experience emotions—joy, sorrow, anger, delight—and their moods naturally shift; they can't remain one-dimensional all the time. The previous Master had, in fact, been deliberately suppressing Now, the Gong Zhu's voice is soft, languid, sweetly腻, as if complaining to her boyfriend about him disturbing her sleep. Crazy? She's not crazy anymore! Zhang Yuanqing feels genuine joy—this eases his sense of guilt and eliminates the fear of saying something wrong and being scolded by his wildly passionate sister. "I'd like to come over now, since I'm not sure whether we'll enter the realm today or tomorrow," Zhang Yuanqing says. He's worried that they might enter the realm tonight. With all his current tasks now completed, there's no need to delay until midnight. At that moment, Guan Ya has likely heard the woman's voice on the phone, picks up her nightgown, and walks over. "Alright!" the Gong Zhu's voice remains soft and sweet, "You just come to the Good Music Hotel and wait for me." Zhang Yuanqing doesn't dare to say another word—he hangs up immediately. As soon as he presses the end call button, Guan Ya's pale, delicate arms wrap around him from behind, takes the phone, and hums softly, "Whose phone is this?" She loosened her hold on her boyfriend, glanced at the call log, and furrowed her brows: "The Master of the Zhengsha Palace?" But she didn't press further—instead, she opened her contacts, searching for keywords like "Fu Xue," "mother-in-law," and "aunt." Still, nothing came up. She then searched for "Mother of Guan Ya" and "who killed the mother-in-law." Zhang Yuanqing watched her with a sideways glance, silently amused. When she typed in "who killed the mother-in-law," he couldn't help but remark, "Guan Ya, you really understand me." Guan Ya huffed, then opened the contacts again, entered her mother's phone number, and confirmed she hadn't added her as a friend before returning the phone to her boyfriend. "Guan Ya, you're actually checking my phone—this isn't like you at all," Zhang Yuanqing said, folding the phone and slipping it into his pocket. "Are you worried that I'm secretly in touch with your aunt?" In his perception, Guan Ya was a confident woman—her stature, appearance, background, and outlook all contributed to her self-assurance. So she rarely gets jealous, unlike those petite, delicate women who constantly check their boyfriend's phone. Guan Ya huffed again: "My mother is simply too skilled—you'll never catch up with her. Best if you never contact her at all, or she might one day suddenly say, 'This is your Uncle Zhang.' 'Then we can each stay on our own terms—I'll call you姐, and you call my father that.' Guan Ya scowled, pinching his face. 'Are you still playing around?' 'You're doing the same, aren't you?' The two laughed and played around, rolling back onto the bed, where not long after, the creaking sound from beneath the bed resumed once again. ... Beijing. In the basement, Ling Jun sat in stillness within the spell-etched array, nine white candles burning at the edges, their soft green flames flickering gently. "When the candles turn into bright flames, the ritual will be complete," said Victoria, graceful in posture and appearance, seated outside the array. "What's this time, this time you've come back for?" "After some thought, Lin Jun frankly admitted, 'I've learned a few things about your elder brother from back then.' 'Your elder brother?' Victoria recalled, remembering this distant acquaintance. 'Lin Tu, wasn't it? He once courted me, but I didn't find men who were so naive and passionate appealing.' At this, she gave Lin Jun a cold glance. Lin Jun felt unexpectedly uneasy, cleared his throat, and then relayed the intelligence gathered from the Xiao Yao organization to Victoria. Upon hearing this, Victoria furrowed her brows deeply. 'Do you suspect the Abbot killed Lin Tu?' 'Not certain,' Lin Jun said softly. 'I returned to the capital specifically to investigate this matter.' 'My father is still within the realm, which is a good opportunity for me. But I'm afraid my trusted senior elders will notice something amiss, so that's why I've asked you to grant me the secret of Tai Yin's concealment.' Victoria gave a quiet laugh. 'How can you be sure I'm not one of your father's trusted allies?' "I'm not sure," Ling Jun shook his head, sighed, "but if it were you, I'd be completely content with dying at your hands. Victoria, you're the only woman I've truly loved in my life." "Hmm, your romantic flattery has certainly improved since back then." "That's not flattery—my actions speak volumes about my sincerity." Ling Jun paused and said, "How well do you know my elder brother?" "When you first joined as an intern following around the mixed-race beauty, you've now become a household name." Zhang Yuanqing teased. "You're still alive—that's quite good. By the way, the mixed-race beauty is now my girlfriend. Oh, and how far have you progressed?" "I haven't upgraded yet—I've only gained 50% experience points." Wang Qian smiled. "All my encounters have been non-fatal dungeons. For me, upgrading isn't the priority—survival is the real issue." "That makes sense," Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "Where is the Palace Master?" "On the third floor, the room on the left." Wang Qian said, then paused, took a deep breath, and asked, "Is he… still there?" Zhang Yuanqing chuckled. "Of course he is—I wouldn't dare let him face any enemies." He gently exhaled a stream of Taiyin energy, which then coalesced into a round, endearing infant on the counter.