After stepping out of the conference room, Yuan Ting exhaled, feeling the pressure ease. The young lord from the Fu family—both in his standing and his distinguished lineage—was someone one could hardly keep up with. When facing him, one often felt the weight of dealing with a superior, rather than being seen as merely a wealthy second-generation heir. Yuan Ting glanced at the two rabbit girls passing by him—both in their early twenties, well-proportioned, with lovely faces. There were seven or eight such girls living in the villa, each one a beauty. Though surrounded by beautiful women, Yuan knew that this young man from a noble household was not particularly drawn to women. Over time, the rabbit girls at the villa had already gone through two waves of recruitment. The newly hired girls, believing they had the chance to rise to prominence, were eager and restless, trying to court the young lord of the Fu family. All of them had been gently persuaded to withdraw. Now, the girls remaining at the villa were more composed and diligent, quietly carrying out their duties, no longer harboring unrealistic aspirations. The rabbit-dress lady at the villa seems like a statement of status—or perhaps Fu Qingyang's personal preference. After leaving the villa and getting into his own car, Yuan Ting reflected on the meeting's content. He first relayed the key information, including the sudden death of the mysterious Eye Judge, to the Taiyuan Sect. Once the official matters were settled, he sent a message to his close friend, Jian Ji: "There's a major development at Songhai—the Eye Judge has died, and his trusted aide, Hei Wuchang, has secretly taken the Holy Cup and the registry with him..." Jian Ji: "I'm stunned—I can't even speak. The Eye Judge just passed away unexpectedly? It's as if, upon waking up, a whole country has vanished." They exchanged a few heartfelt remarks, then both worried about what would happen if the fallen ones listed in the registry collectively disrupted the timeline. Jian Ji: "Is there anything else?" Yes—there's the night-wanderer who just passed through Shela's tunnel. He just slaughtered a third-tier Enchanter. This one can't be revealed. If it gets out, Senior Sun will have my head. Yuan Ting’s expression twisted slightly as he typed: “One more thing—just listen to it, don’t spread it. Brother Sun is confused. The night-wanderer he didn’t want….” …… Long Hai, in a dimly lit bedroom. The lights were off; the only light came from three candles on the table, arranged in a triangle. In the center stood a red lacquered box, its surface carved with a strange, odd-looking insect motif. A figure wearing a silver mask knelt by the table, using a small knife to pierce the base of his finger, drawing out a steady stream of crimson blood. He brought the blood-stained fingertip to the insect’s mouth, and the insect stirred to life, greedily drinking the blood, deepening the red hue of the lacquered box. Hoo-hoo… a sudden gust of wind stirred, the candles taking on a blood-red tint, their flames leaping high, forming a swirling vortex of crimson above the box. “What is it?” A cold, authoritative voice emerged from within the vortex of red flames. "My lord, I have already placed the bait as instructed. The Five Elements Alliance is tirelessly searching for Hei Wuxiang, yet I cannot guarantee that Hei Wuxiang will remain hidden within Songhai." The solemn voice spoke slowly. "My divination shows that Hei Wuxiang is indeed within Songhai, and his concealment there must have a purpose—specific reasons still await verification." "What else do you need from me?" "Work quietly alongside the Five Elements Alliance in their search for Hei Wuxiang. Notify me immediately upon receiving any news. For the time being, I shall remain within the spiritual realm and may not be able to respond promptly." "Any further tasks?" "No. I am seeking the exact location where the Ghost-Eye Judge perished. By chance, I encountered the official from Tai Men. Indeed, the death of the Ghost-Eye Judge appears to have deeper implications than I first thought..." The voice gradually softened, and the swirling vortex of crimson flames faded away. ... "Knock, knock..." The door was tapped twice, and my grandmother's voice drifted into the bedroom, "Yuanzi, dinner is ready." Her tone carried a touch of briskness, as if she were in a good mood. Zhang Yuanqing opened her eyes to find the bedroom dark, the curtains blocking out the outdoor light. So comfortable—finally, the daytime fatigue had been fully replenished. Only遗憾was that the Songhai couldn't see the moon; otherwise, soaking in moonlight would have been perfect. Zhang Yuanqing yawned, slipped on her cotton slippers, and turned the bedroom door handle to step into the living room. A rich aroma filled her nostrils. The dining table was laden with dishes: guo guo pork, braised pork, roasted duck, chicken soup with lotus root, spring bamboo shoots, and more. Her grandmother wore an apron, moving between the living room and the kitchen. Her cousin assisted in the kitchen. Seated on the living room sofa was her grandfather, his hair now white, sitting upright with focused attention on the television. At the dining table sat a middle-aged couple—Zhang Yuanqing’s uncle and aunt. Her aunt had a refined appearance, with fair skin; though in her later years, she was well-maintained. She wore a white, fitted dress, her hair flowing in soft waves, and carried a The man by his aunt shares a striking resemblance in facial features with Chen Yuan. He wears a purple suit, tailored purple pants, and a rose-colored shirt—fresh and stylish, like a night club lord, no, a lord. Zhang Yuanqing's uncle has always been unreliable. In his youth, he played in a band, declaring his ambition to chase dreams and embrace poetry and distant horizons. He packed his bags, wore bell-bottom pants, and left home with a group of like-minded friends, becoming a traveling singer. Years later, his dreams faded, and after being thoroughly worn down by society, he returned—yet he never settled into a steady job. Instead, he carried his recorder around, performing wherever he went, either singing karaoke or socializing with friends and acquaintances. This was typical of urban youth of that era—just drifting along. Thanks to his good looks and pleasant manner, he managed to win over his affluent aunt. After marriage, he did settle down for a few years, but after his cousin was born, he quickly reverted to his old ways. He spent his days lounging, never working—just living life to the fullest. "Yuanzi, have you thought of your uncle?" Uncle Yuan was very delighted to see his successor. He loved singing, dancing, and rapping, with his favorite song being "You-you, che-ke-nao, pan-fan-guo-zi comes with a set," and he'd always add his own original dance moves. No one in the family except Zhang Yuanqing was willing to accompany him in rapping and dancing. Thus, Uncle Yuan held Zhang Yuanqing in high regard, seeing him as his true successor. The uncle and nephew clapped and shook hands, then the uncle embraced the shoulders of the successor of his teachings as they took their seats. "Yuanzi, I've been traveling abroad recently and specifically learned rapping techniques from chimpanzees. When we sing, we should incorporate tongue-clicking and lip-trembling—this will give us more presence," he said. I know what tongue-clicking is, but what on earth is lip-trembling? Zhang Yuanqing stared in astonishment. "Amazing! Truly, your talent is extraordinary. As for me, I've been running short on cash lately." "A small thing—my wife has the means. I'll have her send you some money soon." Not long after, the cousin and grandmother brought the final stacks of dishes and invited everyone to dine. "Where is Auntie?" asked Zhang Yuanqing. "She said she has some matters at the hospital and will return later," replied the grandmother. The uncle raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "Something at the hospital? Is she out on a date with her boyfriend?" The grandmother gave a scoff. "Then I'm truly grateful to the heavens." Looking at her, one would think she wouldn’t marry until she’s past thirty. What’s going on with today’s young people? One after another, they’re refusing to get married. “Grandma is deeply dissatisfied with the current state of affairs,” said Auntie. Uncle replied, “By the way, Yuanjun is still single too. Yuanjun, why don’t you bring your boyfriend over so Dad can meet him.” Brother Yuan was taken aback: “What?” Uncle shrugged, “You’re thirty now, and still haven’t even met a girlfriend—Dad will have to settle for a boyfriend.” As soon as he finished speaking, Grandma rolled up her sleeves and was ready to physically confront Uncle. “Mom, Mom, I was just joking!” Uncle quickly interjected. “You’ve got absolutely no sense of humor! Nowadays, it’s all the rage to form male couples—youths really love that concept.” Auntie quietly ate her meal without saying a word. Her relationship with her mother-in-law wasn’t particularly good—there simply aren’t many harmonious mother-in-law and daughter-in-law pairs. Grandma was easily irritated, while Auntie was strong-willed; one complained that her daughter-in-law didn’t handle household chores well When Zhang Yuanqing was young, her aunt and grandmother often argued, and whenever they got into a heated discussion, her cousin would sit quietly, munching on peanuts and watching the scene unfold. Zhang Yuanqing would step in to mediate, saying, "Please don't argue anymore," while taking over the peanuts from her cousin. Usually, her brother would study while quietly munching on her cousin's peanuts. Now that her aunt has moved past her youthful passion, she no longer feels the need to clash with her mother-in-law, though their relationship remains neither warm nor cold. At this moment, her brother looked over and asked, "I heard something happened at your school today?" "Ah? I didn't know. I came home early and went to bed already..." Zhang Yuanqing pretended not to hear. Her grandmother quickly asked what had happened, and Chen Yuanjun gave a brief explanation—her grandmother learned that criminals had broken into the school, which only deepened her dissatisfaction with the world. As they were talking, a soft "drip" sound came from the security door, followed by the sound of the handle being turned. Sitting in the last seat near the entrance, Zhang Yuanqing glanced over and saw her cousin returning. Xiao Ai's outfit consists of a off-shoulder sheer sweater that reveals her smooth, well-proportioned shoulders, paired with a black short vest. She wears light white summer jeans and a pair of white sneakers. Zhang Yuanqing's gaze lingers on her lower legs, and his eyes instantly narrow. On Jiang Yu'ei's calves, a round baby is gently held.