"I've mostly forgotten the details of my childhood, and don't quite remember the rank of the spirit servants. But since my grandfather places such importance on the basement, the rank of the guardian servant must be quite high—likely at the Sovereign level." Zhao Chenguang thought this over, then picked up his phone and sent a message to Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun: "I need items that can temporarily restrain a Sovereign-level spirit servant." Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun replied instantly: "For just restraining purposes, I'll draw a few Shāo Shā Jù (Breaker of Obstacles) seals for you. Come to the guild warehouse ten minutes later to collect them." Ten minutes later, Zhao Chenguang opened the guild warehouse and found the seals, clicking to claim them. He immediately stood up and walked toward the western room, where his grandfather stored supplies and outdated materials. Pushing open the long-dusty wooden door, a faint musty scent drifted into his nose. The storage room was filled with old items from over a decade ago, as well as materials that had lost their spiritual essence after the creation of the Yin尸 spirit servants. He even spotted the wooden swords and toy guns he had played with as a child, as well as the skateboard he had stolen from Sun Miaomiao. These items were dusted with a thin layer of gray, as though sealed by time. Zhao Chenghuang stepped into the room, moving and leaping through the clutter, leaving behind a trail of footprints. Soon, he reached a corner, lifted the iron partition, and found a square entrance. Before it stood a steep concrete staircase. Zhao Chenghuang leapt into the cellar, landing lightly, and arrived at a narrow passageway. Though dark and shadowed, the passageway was clearly visible to the Night-Wanderer. The walls were plastered with cement, and the ceiling,斑驳 with age, revealed layers of sycamore tree roots. He stepped forward, walking several meters, and stopped at a simple wooden door. He vaguely remembered having this same wooden door as a child—already weathered and worn back then, now completely rotted. Yet Zhao Chenghuang knew that the wooden door was merely decorative; the true guardians of the basement were the spirit servants. As he drew near to the wooden door, a dense, eerie coldness seeped out through the crevices, and on the decaying door, a withered, grotesque white eye of a ghost stood out clearly. "Banished! Forbidden entry!" the spirit's "voice" resonated in Zhao Chenghuang's ears—cold, ethereal, and laced with suppressed malice. Zhao Chenghuang produced a scroll of incantation and swiftly pressed it against the door. A bright, clear golden light flared up, illuminating the dark, chilly underground space. The ghostly face at the entrance roared in fury, then dissolved in the golden glow and retreated back into the basement. Zhao Chenghuang held a fresh scroll between his fingers, hesitated for several seconds, then bit his lip firmly and pushed open the creaking, frail wooden door. At that moment, a cold, sharp voice from behind him spoke: "What are you doing?" For a brief instant, Zhao Chenghuang felt a chill run down his spine, a sudden sense of impending disaster, but quickly steadied himself, turned around, and looked at his grandfather—gray-haired, stern-faced—replied Master Zhao stared at him coldly: "I've told you before not to enter the basement." Clearing the faint anger in his grandfather's gaze, Master Chonghuan felt a cold sweat break out and quickly said, "I know, I know..." Master Zhao's expression softened slightly, and he nodded gently. "Two months since you left home—your cultivation has made significant progress. What level are you now at? What's your experience percentage?" Master Chonghuan replied respectfully, "Level 5, experience at 80%." Master Zhao gave a satisfied "hm." "Before June next year, reaching Level 6 won't be difficult. Advancing from Level 4 to Level 6 within a year is the pace of a top-tier prodigy. But becoming a Master is no easy feat—many prodigies stall at Level 6 for five or ten years, which is quite common. Master Chonghuan, you must be prepared mentally. Don't rush." Next, the elder will help you cultivate a sixth-level Yin corpse and a spiritual servant, and teach you certain Yin-based spells. When you are able to receive the protection of the Yin through night wanderings, you will be promoted to the rank of Master." He once again assumed the tone of a strict, earnest elder. Zhao Chenghuang took a deep breath, "I will remember your teachings, Elder." Zhao Elder nodded, "Go rest now." Zhao Chenghuang bowed and transformed into a streak of starlight, disappearing down the corridor. After he had left the quadrangle courtyard, Zhao Elder walked to the wooden door and touched it, noting that it was slightly warm. "The power of the Sun God... Yuan Shǐ Tian Zūn?" He withdrew his hand and asked in a steady voice, "Did Chenghuang see anything inside?" A fierce, grotesque white-eyed ghost face appeared, "No..." Zhao Elder's expression relaxed slightly. "...A mysterious underground chamber?" At the Fu Family Village, in the villa, Zhang Yuanqing received Zhao Chenghuang's reply and immediately furrowed his brows. "If there were evidence of the fallen ones in the basement, then the basement itself wouldn't exist—at least not with the overseers of master-tier spiritual servants. How could any of the Taimei's masters fear the spirits of resentment?" "Creating a basement is equivalent to creating an act of self-exposure. One never knows when an unexpected incident might occur and reveal everything." Zhang Yuanqing, who had dealt extensively with the fallen ones, immediately dismissed Zhao Chenghuang's hypothesis. Whatever lay within the basement had no connection to the fallen ones—it might simply be Zhao's own secret. By sharing this with Zhao Chenghuang, Zhang's intention was to encourage him to speak openly and directly with the patriarch, gathering firsthand intelligence about the same boat alliance. Even if Zhao were indeed a fallen one, to avoid suspicion, he would willingly disclose information when questioned by his descendant. Thus, Zhao Chenghuang would face no real risk. Yet, due to the matter of the basement, Zhao Chenghuang became overly anxious and, instead of approaching, simply withdrew the conversation. "Zhao, even minor matters seem to fall through his cracks. I'll handle this myself—let me personally go and ask Old Zhao for the details." Zhang Yuanqing typed out his message and replied to Zhao Chenghuang: "I'll make the trip to the capital personally tomorrow." That evening, he would host a dinner at Fu Qingyang's villa, inviting friends to attend, and also welcoming Guan Ya and Tian Xia Gui Huo for the occasion. After the dinner, he would catch up with his long-time girlfriend on the profound philosophy of creating life. Just as he set down his phone, he heard a soft chime—checking it, it was a message from Asahara Reo. In her message, Asahara Reo gently conveyed the desire of the Chihoko Group to reclaim the Yata Mirror. When did I ever take your Yata Mirror? Zhang Yuanqing replied: "Once water has flowed away, it cannot be retrieved!" Once water has flowed away, it cannot be retrieved? Asahara Reo's Chinese was only at an introductory level, and she barely understood the idiom, so she sent the message to test the waters. "Master Yuanshi, does 'flowing water' refer to the Y Putting down his phone, Zhang Yuanqing walked to the balcony and looked down at the neighboring large villa, where the rabbit-dressed attendants and staff in wine-colored uniforms were setting up the evening banquet in the lush, green courtyard. There would be an outdoor dinner tonight, inviting senior stewards from Songhai, close friends from the official organization, and senior leaders from civilian organizations—both a welcome reception for Guan Ya and Tianxia Guihuo, and Zhang Yuanqing’s first official public appearance. At the same time, the dinner served as a strategic test of the adversarial faction. Zhang Yuanqing wanted to see whether the Southern faction would seize the opportunity to retaliate, and how strong the animosity from Lingtuo truly was. To mitigate any unforeseen risks, Zhang had his cousin and uncle quietly monitoring the situation, with the Dog Elder’s zoo ready to be relocated at any moment, and supported by a group of sovereigns—making the event highly secure. At eight o’clock, Zhang Yuanqing, waiting at the villa entrance, welcomed his first guests. A middle-aged man in a cream-colored suit, with a refined mustache on either side of his mouth, walks with a cane in hand, his polished leather shoes gleaming from head to toe—elegant and refined throughout. It is Li Dongze. Behind him follows his older colleague, Wang Tai, who suffers from mild social anxiety, and a young woman with slightly wavy brown hair and a very polished appearance. "Oh my goodness, my old boss, you're as elegant as ever," Zhang Yuanqing warmly approaches. Li Dongze, touched, pats his shoulder: "Now you're the most elegant one." He then turns to the young woman behind, introducing her: "She's a new hire from Group Two—Lingjing ID, the Little Magic Fairy, one of your fans." The young woman, sweet-tempered with bright eyes, her face flushed with excitement, eagerly says: "Hello, hello..." Zhang Yuanqing extends his hand and smiles: "Group Two truly produces beautiful women." After sending Li Dongze and the other two into the villa, Zhang Yuanqing noticed the business car parked by the roadside, and Miao Teng'er and Ling Jun stepping out of the vehicle. "I didn't invite you," Zhang Yuanqing opened his arms and embraced his teacher. "Where there's a gathering, there are beautiful women; where there are beautiful women, there's me." Ling Jun suddenly gritted his teeth: "I'm here to hold a grudge against Fu Qingyang. He told me early on that you were part of the killing quest. Now, I might already be a sovereign." What's the difference between a Saint and a Sovereign, in your eyes? Oh, and now he's trying to sleep with a woman of sovereign rank? Zhang Yuanqing silently chided Ling Jun in his mind, then turned to Miao Teng'er with a warm smile: "Little sister Miao, it's been a while. You've grown more beautiful and graceful than ever." Miao Teng'er, with her refined and elegant appearance, managed a slight smile, glanced around, and upon seeing no one nearby, whispered: "My grandfather told me that the Magistrate's devotion once manifested in the killing quest, and that it was Zhang Yuanqing smoothed out his smile and said seriously, "What would you like to say?" Miao Teng'er took a deep breath. "Has he mentioned me? Has he asked you to pass on any message?" Chi'er... Zhang Yuanqing sighed silently. The Magistrate's determination had never even exchanged words with Yin Ji, let alone made eye contact—how could he have done so with you? He said firmly, "Teng'er, that was merely a strand of determination—formed by unyielding resolve, resentment, and burning anger." Miao Teng'er understood his meaning; her graceful face betrayed a quiet sense of disappointment. Ling Jun gestured helplessly, his face equally helpless. Amidst the shifting light and bustling activity, Zhang Yuanqing was unexpectedly surrounded by a crowd of women, displaying an allure that left others envious. "Damn it, Yuanshǐ Tianzun seems to have such a strong appeal among women—can't I, Xiaohou Aotian, possibly match him in looks? Or in wealth?" Xiaohou Aotian, now slightly drunk, found himself longing for someone to share his company. Xia Hou Ao Tian shrugged: "The results have been different each time—like it's not one person calculating, but three." Ling Jun was surprised: "Have you told him about this?" Xia Hou Ao Tian shook his head: "The oracles aren't fully calculated, the story isn't fully told—otherwise, there would be divine retribution." "Then why are you telling us all this?" Tian Xia Gui cast a look of "caring for a mentally challenged person." Xia Hou Ao Tian paused, startled: "Then just treat it as if you didn't know." Admiration, envy, longing, reverence, desire—Zhang Yuanqing held his high chair and walked among the crowd, sensing the various emotions people felt toward him. Most of the admiration and envy came from men, while reverence, longing, and desire were expressed by women. Today, he had repeatedly encountered the unbearable "female fixation" that young men found so frustrating. At that moment, he suddenly sensed a pure wave of ill will, fleeting and brief. Zhang Yuanqing felt a sudden chill, following the malice he sensed. To his surprise, a server in a wine-red shirt was bending low, hurrying toward the restroom. Could small fish and shrimp have indeed infiltrated? He handed his high-footed cup to a passing waiter and strode briskly toward the public restroom in the courtyard corner. Through the path paved with river stones, he entered the spacious men's restroom, where the server in the wine-red shirt stood quietly by the toilet, facing the entrance. Upon seeing Yuan Shǐ Tiān Zūn enter, the server smiled with an eerie air: "You're going to die!"