Qingya's expression returned to normal, and she asked, "..." Qin Feng replied, "We've been had. We thought that by continuously destroying the Magi's forward bases, we'd convinced Meili to abandon her efforts. Instead, during this time, she've secretly built another one. Now, likely thousands of Magi have already been transported here. We must head to Europe immediately. Even if it's too late, we'll do everything we can to prevent the Magi from threatening the Chinese heartland—this is my bottom line." "Very well. I'll immediately notify the other Overseers. We'll all go together and fight the Magi head-on." The beautiful woman twirled the Thunder Pearl in her hand, smiling, "Grandma's going to show her stuff this time—make them run like chickens with their heads down." Qin Shao chuckled, "Of course. Two kisses for a top-tier artifact—this one's a solid profit for you." "Enough chatter—let's move!" She certainly didn't want to linger on this issue any longer. ... The Celestial Realm, the Immortal葫 Palace. The grand estate is surrounded by vibrant, colorful clouds, and from afar, one can already smell a fragrance so enchanting it seems to stir the soul. This is the renowned alchemical family of the heavens—the Chen family. The medicinal pills produced by the Xianhu Mansion possess qualities on par with those personally crafted by Laozi himself, and they are both abundant in quantity and variety. After all, Laozi is only one person, and thus produces a limited number of pills each year. Once they are ready, most are immediately sent to the Jade Emperor and the Queen Mother of the West, leaving only a small fraction available for the general public. Because of this, the Xianhu Mansion holds a highly esteemed position within the heavenly realm. At the back entrance, a nervous figure slips in stealthily. Immediately, someone shouts, "Catch the thief! Someone is stealing our pills!" "Where's the thief? How could someone even manage to sneak into the Xianhu Mansion? Truly, they must be blind!" A middle-aged man, dressed in an unusual robe, descends from the sky with remarkable agility and kicks the "thief" squarely in the chest. The thief gave out a piercing cry as his body arced gracefully before crashing into the opposite wall. "Hmph. You're still making noise? Today, I'll make sure even your mother can't recognize you!" The middle-aged man picked up a stick at hand and prepared to launch into full attack. "Please... please don't. My father has already lost his patience and come out now. Once my mother arrives, she'll certainly not recognize me either. There's no need to continue." The man lay on the ground, speaking in a wretched tone. "You don't say it, I won't strike. Who are you, anyway?" The man suddenly paused, startled: "Your voice sounds familiar—somewhat like my son. No, wait—how dare you imitate my son's voice? Are you trying to kill yourself?" The thief lifted his head with a face full of indignation: "I am your son, that's all!" "Sweet boy, really you are?" The middle-aged man immediately dropped the stick, knelt down, and looked at him with deep concern, stroking his chin. "You really do bear a strong resemblance. You're truly my son." "Of course your eyes are for breathing—not for seeing, let alone recognizing your own son." Seeing his father's skeptical expression, Chen Jie immediately pulled out his trump card: "If you still can't recognize me, I'll tell everyone my father's little nickname—Chen Juehua." "My dear, how could I possibly not recognize you?" the middle-aged man quickly helped his son up, smiling warmly. "I was just playing around with you a moment ago. What's going on now? It seems no play has ever featured a character like this." He lowered his voice and added, "Please don't let my little nickname slip out—otherwise, I'll have no face to show anyone." Chen Jie narrowed his eyes. "Who just kicked me?" His father sighed with a touch of regret. "I really didn't recognize you at first—my bad. From the way you're standing, it looks like you've been hit up there. How about this: you don't tell anyone about the beating, and I won't mention that you've been hit." "Tuotao brother was filled with indignation, thinking—Is this really my own father? When he saw his son being beaten, instead of first asking who had done it and then shouting for justice, he immediately turned this matter into a trade of negotiation." "Very well," he nodded with difficulty, immediately adding, "No one is to mention anything about us." "Deal," the middle-aged man said with a cheerful smile. He escorted the son into a side room, making sure not to forget to instruct the young man who had previously shouted for help to keep the matter confidential. "Chang Tao wiped his face with a towel and said softly, 'We agreed earlier—no one is to mention it again. If you still speak, I'll go out and shout Chen Juhua's name three times right now.'" The middle-aged man immediately deflated: "My dear, I'm sorry—I really mustn't. Please, just let my father stop speaking. But as the head of the Chen family, I have to say a few things. You may take whatever you like from the Treasure Hall, but don't let it all go. Leave some fine heirlooms for the future generations, otherwise they'll blame me and call me a wastrel." Chen Jie huffed, "Understood." After his father had left, he took out the last golden rice bowl, and spoke to himself with growing frustration: "First, I lost to a cultivator at the Yuan Sheng stage, and then, even with top-tier artifacts, I lost to the demonic clan. Am I truly useless? No, I must make an effort—definitely need to reclaim Yaya once more." He made a determined gesture, but it was too forceful, pulling at his facial wound, and he winced in pain, gritting his teeth ... Thousands of magical beings filled the entire advancing base, with Mirel standing at its center, dozens of magical warriors before her. Behind each warrior were scores of large cockroaches, and dragon sharks patrolling at higher altitudes on guard. The beams of light shooting upward remained intensely bright, with more magical beings continuously appearing, descending, and joining the ranks below. The leading warrior knelt before her on one knee and said, "General, you've been most tireless. We have come at your command to assist you in conquering Earth." The female mage raised an eyebrow and replied, "Why only these few? Shouldn't my king have dispatched a general of comparable strength?" "The knight replied, 'Our great king believes Earth to be an easily conquered planet, and humanity so weak that no second general need be sent. As the king has said, everything here shall be under the command of General Meili. Once Earth is fully secured, we will hold a grand celebration in your honor.' Meili's expression fell. To be honest, when she first arrived, she shared the same belief—conquering Earth would be as simple as crushing an ant. Yet in reality, since her arrival, she has yet to secure any decisive advantage. For here, there are these beings known as the cultivators."