Isn't it true that nothing happens by chance? The police officers who came to investigate the case were precisely the ones who had previously taken the peak real estate developer to the station. Eighty Electronic Books released him because the old man appeared to be in his late seventies, and he was notably proud of his age—so much so that he insisted on being treated as a senior, making it impossible for anyone to take responsibility if anything went wrong at the station. Although there was an unexplained sum of gold, it had already been temporarily seized. For the old man to retrieve it, he would first need a reasonable explanation, second, proof of his identity, and third, the presence of his family members—any one of these three elements missing would be a deal-breaker. If the gold had been stolen, things would be even easier—then the old man would certainly be reluctant to return and claim it. Even if he were proven to be a thief, given his age, would they really send him to jail? Probably not—those young officers at the detention center wouldn’t dare take him in. After all, the police are afraid he might die on their watch; but what about us? Wouldn’t we be just as afraid? Based on all this, the police leadership decided to release them. Tang Peak thought he was being stubborn and overbearing, believing that the younger staff wouldn't dare to do anything to him—so he was proud and pleased with himself for a while. Now, here they are, meeting again—what a coincidence! The thing in the old man's hips, just entering the woman's body and about to really get going, was suddenly interrupted when someone burst through the door and caught them in the act. The three officers exchanged glances; the lead officer shook his head and said, "Indeed, one can't judge a person by their appearance. Being strong and vigorous in one's later years isn't just a cliché—how could it not be true? What do you think, guys?" "Seize them," replied another officer. "Since they're strong enough to handle women, they should definitely be taken. And they should face two charges simultaneously." With that, they had no further hesitation—three of them charged straight in, no longer as polite as before, and immediately put on handcuffs. The woman clearly had a refined background—she was laid bare on the bed without a sound, neither startled nor distressed, as if this kind of experience had happened before. But the peak realist was unaware of the full context; after all, it was his first time. His only thought was: how unlucky am I? I’ve been arrested twice within just a few hours! He deeply missed Dai Jun. Where in the world has you been? Without your guidance, nothing seems to go smoothly. Dai Jun had repeatedly slipped into the mundane world, gaining deep insight into such matters, so under his careful planning, these unexpected events never materialized—though whether he, too, had once experienced similar situations, only he might know. "Given your age, how come you're still doing something so unconventional—bringing me here?" the officer said. "Please, allow me to take responsibility and accept the penalty." The old man began to plead. With his abilities, sending out several of the people before him was as easy as squashing a few ants. But this was the mundane world—where cultivators had to behave with decorum. The cultivation realm, too, followed the principle of "good deeds bring good rewards, bad deeds bring bad consequences." It was said that cultivators who had taken human lives would face greater obstacles during their ascension to immortality. For three centuries, the old man had remained unascended, and he regarded this matter as more important than anything else. Therefore, he decided not to harm the people of the secular world. Being detained by the police was merely a matter of being held tight—after all, he could simply escape when they weren't looking. Could they possibly catch him? The police officers were surprisingly kind, placing cloth bags over his head to prevent embarrassment when he went out. Of course, the peak cultivator didn't get the chance to wear clothes—he was left bare-bottomed, escorted out as he was. As they reached the first floor, the owner's eyes were as wide as a cow's, amazed—this old man was truly fiery, and he actually had the ability to handle women! What a strong presence. Undoubtedly, as a long-time partner, their coordination was seamless. Before leaving, the police officer said, "You're the owner, aren't you? How come you're engaging in selling Y and hiring C for pleasure? What can you say about that?" "Officer, I truly have no idea," the owner replied. "I just run a hotel. I can't stop guests from doing what they please. I'll definitely take better care of this going forward and ensure such incidents don't happen again!" "Given your sincere attitude and the fact that this is the first time such an issue has arisen, we're deciding to let you off this time. Just keep an eye on things—should this happen again, we'll have to close your business." "Thank you, officer..." After bidding the "distinguished" officers good-bye, the owner hurried up the stairs, the old man's clothes still lying in the room upstairs—his pockets were full of cash. If he had arrived later, the woman would surely have hidden some of it away. Upon reaching the room, the woman was still barefoot, getting ready to dress. "You came so quickly, I thought you didn't trust me," she said with a seductive smile. "How could I not? We've known each other for a long time, haven't we?" The owner first scanned the woman with a steady gaze, then bent down to pick up the old man's clothes, pulling out a thick stack of cash from inside. The woman's eyes immediately brightened. "Indeed, a well-to-do man—just a regular client, really. To carry so much cash, though, that's impressive!" "Heh, heh—we're going to make a little fortune here," the owner said, his eyes glistening with joy. The woman wrapped her arms around him from behind, her high chest brushing against his back, and murmured seductively, "That old man nearly set the whole place on fire. The officer arrived just in time—how lucky for you!" "Then let's see how much I can offer you. Rest assured, we're both in business—never mind you, I'll make sure you don't come out short. I'll give you several more cards after this." The owner turned her over and pushed her onto the bed, then unfastened his belt and pressed down. Soon, loud, almost exaggerated cries rang out—though they were soon replaced by the man's heavy, labored breathing, which held steady for just a few minutes before fading away. At the police station, the peak performer, having endured two setbacks, hung his head low. All that remained in his mind was a desperate wish to leave—this mundane world was far more daunting than Daji had described. It was simply unbearable, especially for a proud cultivator. "Old man," he said, urging him to speak plainly, "otherwise, don't think you'll ever make it out of here." "The police spoke firmly, stating that since the old man had been brought in, he had remained silent—now they were at a loss. Though the old man was strong enough to go out and dine on his own, no one could guarantee he wouldn't face complications after being hit, so everyone hesitated to act. "Hear this—give you one hour to consider. If you still don't speak by then, don't expect us to be gentle," the officer said, turning to leave. It was mealtime now, and since you haven't opened your mouth, we'll keep you hungry until dinner. Just seconds after the officer departed, the old man's eyes suddenly regained their sparkle, and he coldly replied, "Do you really think you're qualified to threaten me?"