Yes, I almost forgot about that young man. Li Dongze's words reminded the captains of the Kangyang District Spirit Realm team having already recruited one Night Wandering Deity—no longer needing to borrow personnel from Taiyi Gate. Da Ji Ba smiled warmly and immediately said, "Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get in touch with that young man. So, it’s clear—we must cultivate our own Night Wandering Deities. In times of crisis, loyal teammates are always the most dependable." The other captains nodded in agreement. Da Ji Ba's words made sense. Though the Night Wandering Deity from Taiyi Gate had always been cooperative during official duties, ultimately they were outsiders—less convenient to use than one’s own team members. Li Dongze glanced at Fu Qingyang and saw him give a slight nod of approval. Then he reached for his Smartphone and stepped out of the conference room. "I'll get in touch with him." ... After finishing her morning professional courses, Zhang Yuanqing carried her backpack and left the classroom. She had decided to skip her afternoon classes and head over to the office location of the second team of the Kangyang District Spirit Realm squad. The future of interpersonal relationships and career development would increasingly center around the Spirit Realm squads. Zhang Yuanqing didn’t particularly like school or show much interest in academics. The young people from Songhai shared a natural laziness—lacking drive, a sense of urgency, and the will to strive. Only two types of people consistently demonstrate dedication: those who've been nurtured since childhood with positive habits; and those compelled by necessity of life. Since becoming a Spirit Realm Walker, Zhang Yuanqing had finally rediscovered that long-lost spirit of striving. Firstly, it was a matter of survival. Secondly, it allowed her to fulfill the youthful dream of traveling far and wide with sword in hand. The Spirit Realm is filled with danger and strangeness—yet once one experiences its rewards, one no longer wants to remain an ordinary person. As she reached the lobby, she was preparing to rent a shared bicycle when her phone buzzed. It was Li Dongze calling. "Chief?" Zhang Yuanqing answered. "Where are you now?" Li Dongze spoke quickly and directly. "At the university." "Songhai University, correct? I'll have Guan Ya come pick you up right away." Picked up? Zhang Yuanqing sensed Li Dongze's urgency. She hesitated and asked cautiously, "What’s going on?" "One of our colleagues has been killed. We need a Night Wandering Deity to consume the spirit body in order to extract the deceased’s memories. Do you think you can manage that?" Li Dongze asked with some hesitation. Hmm... That should be possible, though… Zhang Yuanqing replied, "I’ll give it a try?" Consuming a spirit is straightforward—this is one of the Night Wandering Deity's innate skills—and he felt confident in doing so. But reading memories from such a consumed spirit was something he had never actually done before; thus, he wasn’t entirely certain. "Then that’s settled," Li Dongze said without further comment and hung up. Zhang Yuanqing folded her phone neatly and began walking toward the university entrance. A few minutes later, she paused at the main gate and waited silently for Guan Ya to arrive. As she stood there, she noticed a young woman in a pleated long skirt standing by the roadside, holding a high-end handbag—clearly waiting for someone. Xu Yingying? Zhang Yuanqing studied her carefully. The woman’s attire was refined—necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and the handbag—all of which carried an elegant value, distinctly different from most female students in school. Students from ordinary families rarely achieved such a look. When Zhang Yuanqing's gaze caught her attention, Xu Yingying smiled gently, adjusted her hair, straightened her posture, and displayed her most graceful expression—her mind filled with subtle self-importance. She assumed the man was attractive enough to naturally highlight her own beauty. But now, she realized that her life world had diverged significantly from that of a typical college student. Her entire ensemble cost as much as one year's average student living expenses. At that moment, Xu Yingying watched a blue sedan pull up at the university gate and slowly park there. The woman behind the wheel wore a neat white blouse and glasses—her face obscured, but her sharp, clean jawline and finely sculpted lips clearly indicated she was a high-end beauty. Xu Yingying bit her lip slightly and shifted her posture, turning the handbag logo toward the car. At the same time, she saw Zhang Yuanqing jogging over to the vehicle and stepping inside. The woman pressed down on the gas—driving off like a well-dressed, confident young lady with a stylish companion. Xu Yingying opened her mouth in surprise. For a moment, she couldn’t tell whether this male student was a quiet, affluent family son—or simply a fellow professional from the seafood and steel wire industries. ... At the Kangyang District Police Department’s mortuary. Zhang Yuanqing stood beside the body on the gurney, lifting the white sheet to reveal a scene of tragic violence. The corpse was covered in bruises and cuts, with bloodied flesh torn open in the chest—visually devastating. Had this been two days ago, Zhang Yuanqing would have felt physically unsettled. But after enduring the intense assault at the Place of the Mountain God, such scenes no longer stirred significant discomfort within her. "Let’s begin," Li Dongze said, holding his cane with quiet anticipation. Zhang Yuanqing nodded. She examined the body and sensed that the lingering spirit within was gradually becoming active—reviving. The Night Wandering Deity's presence exerts a powerful attraction on a spirit body, capable of awakening dormant vitality. She silently summoned her Power of the Moon within herself, allowing her iris and pupil to darken into pure black. Then she reached out and gently grasped the air in front of Zhao Yingjun’s body. A translucent figure emerged—bearing the features of Zhao Yingjun but with a blank, distant expression. After death, about 90% of consciousness dissipates. As a result, the spirit becomes sluggish and dull. When consciousness is lost, memories fade as well, leaving only deeply held impressions or lingering attachments. Memories from moments just before death are typically vivid and remain intact due to their proximity to the moment of passing. Once the spirit body was extracted, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly felt an innate urge to "eat"—she naturally opened her mouth and gently drew in a breath. Zhao Yingjun’s spirit dissolved into mist and drifted into her mouth. A sensation of pressure bloomed at her brow; consciousness expanded as if filled with unfamiliar elements. ... She heard soft sobbing, a series of muffled cries, and then a low, stern voice: "Listen to me—I don’t have much patience. Just answer clearly." Now realizing she was extracting the final memories from the spirit body, Zhang Yuanqing slowly began opening her eyes—images around her became clear. She found herself sitting on a plush bed in an elegant suite. Her clothes were scattered all over the floor—the garments and undergarments of a woman had been tossed carelessly. Nearby at the bedside, a young woman curled up in a relaxed posture—naked, with smooth, long legs, a firm abdomen, and a proud bust—demonstrating youthful vitality. The crying came from her. A woman? Naked? This scene left Zhang Yuanqing momentarily stunned. She thought to herself: How hadn’t Chief Li explained the scene clearly? How could she be expected to witness such an intimate moment when she’s still just a young student? As the perspective of the deceased, she looked at the woman beside the bed—she saw a man with a fierce expression, his left cheek bearing a scar about half a finger long, sparse eyebrows, and dark, watchful eyes. Holding a bright, gleaming willow blade in one hand. The murderer… Zhang Yuanqing stared at this face, carefully memorizing every detail. By now, she had completed half of her task. The man pointed the tip of his blade toward Zhang Yuanqing’s chest and growled firmly, "Where is the Sacred Cup? Where is the Register?" He had repeated these questions many times—his expressions growing increasingly impatient, his gaze full of threat. "I don’t know. I truly don’t know… Please, please spare me," Zhang Yuanqing heard her own voice pleading for mercy. The man knelt beside the bed and lost patience, rubbing his face with weary repetition: "Give me an opportunity—you never take it! Give me an opportunity—you never take it!" Then he pressed the tip of the willow blade into Zhang Yuanqing’s chest. Sharp pain surged—her consciousness blurred—and she collapsed softly onto the floor. As she watched, the man unfastened his belt and grasped the woman's ankle, pulling her firmly toward him. The scene ended abruptly as the woman screamed.