In the study, Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the portrait hanging on the wall, then at Fu Qingyang seated with a straight posture, and remarked: “Good painting—it’s just too wasted!” Fu Qingyang, who had been about to speak, paused in surprise: “What does that mean?” Zhang Yuanqing earnestly replied: “No matter how skilled the painter, no matter how much effort he puts into reproducing the likeness, he can never capture even one-thousandth of the grace and elegance of a Hundred-man Commander. Thus, it’s truly a pity.” Fu Qingyang studied him for a moment before saying calmly: “Let’s get down to business. Don’t waste our time on these unnecessary words.” Yet Zhang Yuanqing sensed from the subtle nuances in Fu Qingyang’s expression that he was genuinely enjoying this exchange. When he first entered, Fu Qingyang had his brows slightly furrowed, visibly preoccupied—now however, his brows were relaxed and his face softened. Zhang Yuanqing pulled out a high-back chair and settled into it, gazing at the composed young man by the desk, and asked: “How long will it take the elders to reach a decision on handling Xiaohou Chi?” “I don’t have an answer,” Fu Qingyang shook his head before explaining: “Xiaohou Chi can’t escape. But he’s part of the core lineage of the Xiaohou Family. Before we act, we must consult with them. If we take action without notice, it will affect our relationship between the two power groups—potentially even create conflict.” That’s exactly what the position dictates—the backside determines thinking… Zhang Yuanqing nodded, expressing his understanding. The elders approach problems from a different angle than the frontline staff; only when they align do we begin to see issues. “What about the Hundred-man Commander next in terms of investigation?” Fu Qingyang looked at him but said nothing. It seemed there was no clear plan—indeed, finding a high-level Realm Walker who had been quietly hidden for so long would be difficult, requiring time. Zhang Yuanqing immediately added: “Commander, I recall that the night we discussed Black Unusual’s motivation for staying in Place, it was because the Fallen Cup had developed an issue, prompting Black Unusual to secretly connect with Dark Night Rose and meet at Place.” Fu Qingyang nodded slightly. Zhang Yuanqing continued: “After work yesterday, I thought deeply—why would Dark Night Rose assist Black Unusual? What benefits do they derive?” Fu Qingyang’s gaze sharpened. Zhang Yuanqing went on without pause: “We’ve analyzed that the issue with the Fallen Cup stems from the Demon King—who is in fact a Night Wandering Deity—and thus, he must have employed some means to cause this malfunction. But I’m still quite inexperienced and can’t imagine what specific element could influence such a rule-type prop—the Fallen Cup.” He didn’t explicitly mention the power of the Sun God’s domain, which might seem too deliberate; for Fu Qingyang’s level of awareness, a gentle hint was sufficient. Fu Qingyang pondered for several seconds, his eyes growing brighter: “Only something at the same level could counteract the Fallen Cup—now I understand how the Demon King is maintaining control.” He glanced at Zhang Yuanqing and explained: “It must be the power of the Sun God. Higher-level Night Wandering Deities can harness and command solar energy. As for whether the Demon King uses a specific artifact or an object, I’ll need to check the Archive—possibly requesting access through Taiyi Gate.” “Dark Night Rose likely seeks the Fallen Cup. Though this doesn’t immediately help us locate Black Unusual, more information will gradually open new pathways.” The reserved young man smiled warmly: “Your thoughts are excellent—I’m truly not mistaken in recognizing you. If you were a scout, you’d undoubtedly excel.” Well… still, perhaps I should have held back—when facing Li Dongze, Zhang Yuanqing had the courage to make such remarks, but he didn’t dare to belittle the scouts before Fu Qingyang. He sighed: “Indeed, indeed.” ... After leaving the villa, Zhang Yuanqing called Wang Qian. “What would you like me to do?” Wang Qian replied politely. Are you calling me too frequently? “Please convey to Master of Zhishake Palace that Xiaohou Xin has been silenced. Also, regarding the matters I’ve asked her to investigate—I’d like her to move swiftly—the situation is urgent.” Zhang Yuanqing said firmly. Wang Qian listened carefully and was utterly stunned—both by the news of Xiaohou Xin’s elimination and by the urgency emphasized in Yuan Shi Tian Zun’s tone. She didn’t realize it was such a personal matter—she thought the palace master might be one of his informants. Was the palace master really not one of his sources? “Certainly, certainly!” Wang Qian hung up, still puzzled. Next, he headed to the No. Unseen Hotel to investigate the Evil Organization’s information… After stepping out of the villa complex and walking along the street for a long time, Zhang Yuanqing finally stopped and hailed a taxi. After settling on the fare, he entered the taxi and traveled toward Jinshan City in the north. One hour later, wearing a baseball cap and mask, Zhang Yuanqing entered the grand hall of No. Unseen Hotel. The woman at the front desk glanced at him, assessed him with an air of scrutiny, recognized him, and frowned: “What do you want now?” She still wore her initial attire—a white shirt paired with a burgundy suit—standard hotel uniform. Her features were elegant and striking; her eyes bright and expressive, her chest full and maturely styled. Yet her demeanor remained cold, making it difficult to approach. Knowing that Zhang Yuanqing was not an adversary, he smiled: “Don’t be so cautious—I’d like to become friends with you—more friends means more paths.” The attractive woman narrowed her eyes with a mocking tone: “If you’re trying to seduce me, you’ll suffer terribly. If your intentions are aimed at my organization, then even worse. “Go back—you’re not the right person for this place.” No way—why would you think I’m interested in seducing you? Isn’t it like an eagle preying on a chick? Zhang Yuanqing thought to himself, fully utilizing his social finesse: “The way you speak is so full of expectations. Everyone needs friends and must know how to build them—only then can their paths grow wider. Remember, my father’s last words came to light only because he became friends with me.” The woman studied him for several seconds before saying coldly: “Tell me your purpose.” Zhang Yuanqing replied immediately: “Have you heard of Black Unusual? The official has recently been actively pursuing him—do you have any updates on his whereabouts?” The woman scoffed: “Do you think I’m sitting here just to keep track of Black Unusual for you?” She paused, then added: “I can assist you by checking at the underground market.” Seeing Zhang Yuanqing’s confusion, she explained with a chuckle: “That’s not your official recognized underground market—it’s only known within the Evil Organization. After all, even the most disgraced individuals need to conduct transactions. “But I’ll charge you service fees, risk compensation, and psychological damages.” Service fees and risk fees are understandable—but what about psychological damage? Zhang Yuanqing asked: “Psychological damages?” The woman sighed, standing straighter: “Every time I see those ugly, unpleasant people, I feel as if I’ve been raped a hundred times.” Well—you’ve truly painted yourself into such a position—I can’t even argue. Zhang Yuanqing found himself at a loss for counterarguments and simply asked: “Then, how much?” “Fifty thousand!” the woman said calmly—“No refund, regardless of whether information is obtained.” Fifty thousand—back then, I would have had to strip off my clothes and lie on the bed saying, “Madam, tonight I’m yours!” But today, it’s merely a small amount. Zhang Yuanqing said: “Agreed—I just request speed. The faster, the better.” He pulled out his Smartphone and said: “Exchange contact details—what shall we call you?” The woman replied: “Xiao Yuan.” “A lovely name…” After leaving No. Unseen Hotel, Zhang Yuanqing walked along the street toward Place, planning to walk a bit further before taking another taxi. Jinshan City’s infrastructure was still far behind that of Place—especially in its outskirts where large trucks frequently pass, causing cracked and leaning road surfaces. “Dingdong~” His smartphone vibrated softly as he stopped at the roadside. He pulled it out to check. An unread message: **Have you heard of the legend of the White Robe Murderer? It’s said that she is a spirit wandering through dreams. Her image—dressed in a stained, soiled white robe, her hair disheveled, holding a vegetable knife—her body composed of limbs from different people, facing backward while walking—always with her back to her front.** **She wanders the dreams at night, searching for her targets. When she decides on someone to kill, she knocks once on their door at midnight and then kills them.** **Please forward this message to the next person by noon—not otherwise, the White Robe Murderer will find you.** “What kind of era are we in—still receiving such outdated, non-forwarding reminders?” Zhang Yuanqing suddenly remembered from his school days when similar playful messages used to circulate widely in chat groups—exactly this format. At that moment, a taxi approached. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and held out his hand for another taxi—he asked the driver if he was going to Place. The driver agreed readily. ... Zhang Yuanqing returned to Place at noon. Originally planning to find a restaurant on the street to settle for lunch, he suddenly remembered that Tengyuan Chief had raised each employee’s daily meal allowance by ten yuan—originally thirty yuan per meal now improved to forty. Forty yuan allows for a decent meal. He immediately instructed the driver to change his route and head toward Kangyang District Public Security Bureau. Upon entering the glass building, in the left-side leisure area, Guan Ya, Tengyuan Chief, and Jiang Jingwei were gathered around a glass table, sharing lunch. Guan Ya’s dining style was refined—she chewed slowly and carefully; her red lips glistened with oil, quite appealing. Tengyuan Chief ate mechanically, his expression blank, showing little interest in life or food. Jiang Jingwei, however, was completely different—she devoured her meal with energy, her eating style rivaling that of a yellow-haired monkey. Beautiful though she is, Jiang Jingwei is just a Fire Master… Zhang Yuanqing sighed and instructed the clerical staff to prepare his lunch before moving toward his teammates with a bright smile: “Haha—I’ve come at the perfect time!” Guan Ya swallowed her food slowly, watching Zhang Yuanqing approach and asked: “You’ve been rather inactive lately.” That’s just like the upper levels setting the standard—yes, it’s responding to the leadership initiative! Zhang Yuanqing sat down beside Lao Si Ji and said: “I wasn’t idle at all—I’ve been on a business trip today.” “Hm?” Guan Ya expressed her surprise with a nasal tone. Zhang Yuanqing explained: “I hired a thirty-year-old woman, gave her some money, and arranged several matters.” Guan Ya blinked, then smiled: “That’s quite good vision—someone in their thirties can teach you many things!” “If there’s an opportunity, I’d also like to learn from Guan Ya Sister,” Zhang Yuanqing added, noticing Jiang Jingwei had a red backpack beside her and asked: “Jingwei—you’re not going back to school?” Jiang Jingwei raised her head in surprise: “What are you doing here?” A coarse Fire Master! Zhang Yuanqing repeated the question. “Oh—my father said work shouldn’t be neglected, so I bring my assignments to work. Now, Guan Ya Sister and Tengyuan Chief can help me with homework,” the red-haired girl responded cheerfully. Guan Ya’s face flushed slightly. Tengyuan Chief looked even more disheartened. Teaching someone how to do homework? Zhang Yuanqing gazed sympathetically at both colleagues. Tengyuan Chief adjusted his glasses and said: “Master Yuan Shi—you must be a university graduate, right? I believe you could teach Jingwei how to complete her assignments. We’ve been away from campus for years—our academic knowledge has somewhat faded.” “No thanks, Chief,” Zhang Yuanqing politely declined and swiftly shifted the conversation: “Chief—do you find that you’re not particularly enthusiastic about your work?” Tengyuan Chief paused, then said slowly: “Long before I became a Realm Walker, I realized that life is filled with exploitation—the government imposes heavy taxation, while capital squeezes employees through intense working hours. In my youth, I studied day and night—my head hung over the beams, my body propped up by a sharp pin—living like a dog. After entering society, I faced continuous pressure and exploitation—now living more like an ox. With life’s span of just one hundred years—why should we endure such strain? I can’t change others—but I can change myself.” So thoughtful—it’s not quite right… This sounds very much like ‘the laid-back lifestyle’ these days! Zhang Yuanqing was momentarily struck silent. Tengyuan Chief sighed: “Even now, as a Realm Walker, I find the Spirit Realm to be no better than dog poop.” Zhang Yuanqing could only maintain a polite yet slightly embarrassed smile… After dinner, Zhang Yuanqing returned to his bedroom and drew the curtains. He sat at his desk, thinking: “The Master of Zhishake Palace hasn’t replied yet. According to her, she’s gathered quite a bit of information from Xiaohou Tianwen—details that all point toward the Dark Night Rose. Indeed, the Dark Night Rose herself is aware of this as well; the Master mentioned that she must be on guard should the leader of the Dark Night Rose come knocking. ‘Aunt’ has taken my money and promised to handle things properly—I hope she can provide useful leads… I just wish little person_name wouldn’t steal Aunt’s underwear again tomorrow. One piece is enough! “Tap! Tap!” He turned off the lamp and settled into sleep. How long had it been when Zhang Yuanqing was suddenly awakened by a persistent headache, vivid images flashing through his mind in rapid succession, with meaningless noise filling his ears? Many of these scenes were memories he had accumulated since becoming the Night Wandering Deity—fragments collected through inquiries to the Spirit Realm. Since becoming a Realm Walker, as his physical condition strengthened, he had gradually outgrown his headaches, even forgetting to take medication regularly. With a strong sense of cranial fracture, Zhang Yuan 12 opened the drawer beside his bed and retrieved a small bottle of medicine. He poured out about five or six blue pills and swallowed them whole. Then, he lay down on the bed and waited for the pain to subside. “Knock! Knock!” At that moment, he heard tapping at the door. Who could it be? It’s late at night—could it be Jiang Yu'er? Despite his throbbing discomfort, Zhang Yuanqing sat up slowly. He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table: it read 00:00. Twelve O’Clock. Midnight.