?"." Lei Feng launched the third spiritual scroll. Meili raised her silver lance and exclaimed with a graceful voice, "Heavenly Maiden Scattering Flowers." Qin Feng's ears suddenly perked up. What on earth, "Heavenly Maiden Scattering Flowers"? I mean, you have a distinctly European appearance—how come you're so familiar with this Chinese idiom? He didn't know that Chinese culture originated from Laozi's teachings, and Laozi later became the Jade Emperor himself—strictly speaking, it was influenced by the heavenly realm. During the ancient war between gods and demons, the demonic race also absorbed influences from the heavenly realm. After all, the early demons were primitive beings, barely surviving on raw meat and blood, and how could they not have admired and envied the ethereal, noble deities? Thus, unconsciously, they adopted various heavenly traditions and adapted them into their own unique style—developing concepts such as gentlemen and nobility. Therefore, it was no surprise at all that Meili could recite some Chinese idioms. The elder's spirit seal transformed into a blazing fire dragon, its face fierce and menacing. Meanwhile, Meili, with the continuous thrust of her silver spear, generated dozens of beams of white light. These beams struck the fire dragon in succession, causing it to twist and deform dramatically. Yet the elder remained confident in his spirit seal, speaking coldly, "Do you really think this will shatter my seal? It's pure fantasy." The elder's spiritual shield flashed brightly, and his body followed, flying backward as he stared in disbelief—fierce anger, unyielding resentment, and astonishment etched on his face. He had never imagined that a mid-rank demonic being could be so formidable. According to celestial records, mid-rank demons were roughly on par with newly ascended cultivators and should have been no match for true immortals. Yet here he was, from start to finish, never gaining the upper hand, instead suffering defeats. Who could he turn to for justice? Was the celestial record flawed, or had the demonic race grown stronger over the past ten thousand years? His mind raced, pondering every possibility. Just when it seemed like everything was about to come crashing down, he realized his body had grown ethereal, and in the next moment, the scene before him had changed—he must have arrived at a place he had never seen before. "Director, are you all right?" Qingya asked from behind. "I'm fine," he replied, "but where exactly are we?" Qingya answered, "We're inside Qin Feng's artifact, so we're safe. By the way, Director, isn't it remarkable how powerful the general-level demon forces are? Did you underestimate them?" The elder blushed slightly, "There's a bit of that—though their strength is truly formidable. Even if I hadn't underestimated them, I doubt I'd have gained much advantage..." At that moment, Qin Feng said, "We've figured out the reason—look." Everyone's attention was fixed on the image projected in the air. The star of the scene was the beautiful demonic maiden Meili, who effortlessly defeated the fire dragon still struggling to rise. With a proud air, she murmured, "A true immortal of modest rank dares to challenge me? Truly lacking in self-awareness! Since the heavens have been at war for so many years, who has ever known that our demonic forces have significantly strengthened since the time of ten thousand years ago? And I, Commander Meili, am on the verge of achieving divine rank—how could you possibly be my match?" Lei Feng flushed, muttering, "So that's it. My mistake—I naturally assumed she belonged to the rank of generals from ten thousand years ago. I never thought we'd see her defeat!" On screen, Meili marched off with her entourage, confident and bustling. Qin Feng hurried to escort them out of the small steaming pavilion, jokingly. With the secret now known to Qingya, he didn't want any other outsiders to find out. He wanted to make sure the old man hadn't yet seen the medicinal seed beds and the large lake before sending him away. Qingya expressed her strong displeasure. "Just as soon as the head just left, you're already rushing everyone out—what if the enemy launches a counterattack?" Qin, smiling lightly, said, "If the Director hasn't raised any objections, then there's nothing more for you to say." "Hmph." The beautiful Inspector glared at him. Leifeng slowly lifted his head and emitted a steady, though not particularly loud, roar. This sound wasn't noticeable to ordinary people or the magical races, but it served as a clear signal to the other Inspectors to immediately return and avoid direct confrontation. After all, most Inspectors were only at the stage of cultivators who had achieved flight—while they could handle lone threats like giant crabs or dragon sharks, facing off against a formidable foe like Meili, they'd likely be overwhelmed, possibly even falling in battle. Soon, the Inspectors returned from various directions. A few of them looked worn out, clearly having fought the magical forces—most likely without securing a decisive advantage. The elder had been hit himself, so he didn't have the heart to ask about their battle outcomes. "From now on, everyone must coordinate their efforts," he said firmly. "The enemy is tougher than we anticipated. We must avoid being isolated—no room for the demons to encircle and attack us. Everyone clear on that?" "Understood!" several voices responded at once. Qin sighed slightly, disappointed, and turned to Qingya. "What now? The Director isn't even up to par. Should we go to the Heavenly Realm and request reinforcements?" Qingya gave him a sharp look. "Isn't it common in warfare to have victories and defeats? We've merely suffered a minor setback. Can't we just wait and see? To go back and ask for help immediately after our first encounter—how very unbecoming! Not only will the Heavenly Realm look down upon us, but even the demon forces will think we're lacking in confidence." As for this argument, Qin had only one comment: he was simply living with the burden of pride, enduring the consequences. What's face? Something worth nothing, yet so many people treat it as if it were priceless. Why? He and Isabel exchanged a glance. The beautiful officer whispered, "Since the Office of Supervision now takes charge of this matter, you needn't say much more. Isn't that what the Chinese often say—'learn from every setback'? Next time, it might not necessarily be us who come out on the losing end." Well, that's what I hope for too. But as just happened, it's clear that Uncle Lei Feng, whether in intelligence or strategy, falls short of Mei Li, and doesn't even have the advantage in strength—how can he turn the tide and prevail?