With those words, the sense of pressure that had been hovering in the lobby vanished entirely. Zhang Yuanqing and Xie Lingxi took a deep, quiet breath, the feeling of being watched by starving wolves now gone. The woman at the front desk narrowed her eyes, observing the young couple across the desk, and glanced subtly toward the hotel's exterior. "I know," she said, with a calm, composed tone. "The two of you wait a moment, please." She turned away, her voice cool and steady, and walked deeper into the hotel, the sound of her high heels growing fainter with each step. Huff—Xie Lingxi exhaled, her face pale, and whispered softly: "Yuanshi brother, I suddenly remembered something..." Zhang Yuanqing glanced at her. Xie Lingxi shared her speculation: "We haven't found any information about the 'Master of No Trace.' Is it possible that he isn't simply obscure—perhaps it's simply that our access permissions are too limited?" One receptionist could exert such overwhelming authority—imagine what level the Master of No Trace must hold. Zhang Yuancheng nodded seriously: "I've also thought of it, so I was just about to escape—indeed, I'm quite confident I can make it." "Ah?" Xie Lingxi was startled, her eyes widening, "I was completely trembling—my legs went weak—and I didn't even think about escaping. I just wanted to hide my head in your armpit." That's why I'm so confident—I just need to run faster than my teammates... Zhang Yuancheng thought to himself. He extended his arms and tucked Xie Lingxi's head into his armpit, asking, "Does this give you a sense of security?" "Yuanshi brother, let me go! Let me go! It's embarrassing..." Xie Lingxi struggled hard. She pulled her head out of Zhang Yuancheng's armpit, adjusted her tilted head-worn headphones, and whispered, "Yuanshi brother, my headphones are just props—they can pick up every sound within a 500-meter radius." She listened intently, speaking softly: "That woman has entered the elevator... it stopped on the fourth floor... she opened the second room on the left side... and then she disappeared?" Xie Lingxi lifted her face, astonished, "She's gone completely!" Gone completely? Had the room itself isolated her from outside observation? Zhang Yuanqing patted the young girl on the shoulder, reassuring her to remain calm. Zhang Yuanqing smiled, "You're so kind and gentle—such a good person. We're not afraid at all." Xie Lingxi, soft-spoken and delicate, said, "Auntie, we just came to deliver a message. We have no ill intentions." The woman's expression softened, and she nodded gently, leading them to the elevator and taking them to the fourth floor. Standing in the hallway, she looked toward the second room on the left side of the elevator, and said, "Go in." Zhang Yuanqing noticed the room number: 404! Such a lovely name... He gave a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, then pulled Xie Lingxi to the door and turned the handle. "Click!" At that moment, as the latch gently clicked, a quiet, powerful presence seemed to settle over the scene—everything around them changed instantly. The carpet in the hallway transformed into simple porcelain, the painted white walls became a blend of brick and wood, and the bright overhead lights turned into soft, flickering candlelight. Zhang Yuanqing and Xie Lingxi stared at each other in astonishment. They found themselves inside a temple hall, with a dome nearly eight meters high adorned with a lotus-patterned coffered ceiling, painted with countless deities and bodhisattvas. Below the ceiling stood a golden Buddha five meters tall, holding a lotus blossom with a serene yet solemn expression—part compassionate, part dignified, part stern. Eighteen thick candles were lit on the offering table, casting a bright glow. On the floor beneath the Buddha, there were cushions where a young monk in a deep green robe sat cross-legged, his figure tall and imposing—already as tall as Xie Lingxi when merely seated. Zhang Yuanqing and Xie Lingxi exchanged quiet glances, their eyes filled with both surprise and gravity. Just moments ago, they had been in the corridor of a hotel; now they stood in a completely unfamiliar temple. If it weren’t for the absence of any scriptural prompt sounds in their ears, they would have doubted they had once again entered the spiritual realm for a mission. This Master Wuhen is far more formidable than I imagined. What kind of spiritual realm traveler could possibly possess such mastery? Zhang Yuanqing took a deep breath, "Master of the Night Wandering Spirit and the musician—were you both officially appointed?" A low, raspy voice echoed, strange in tone, as though struggling to endure some inner pain. "Yes!" Zhang Yuanqing couldn't conceal it. The hall fell silent for several seconds, then the low, raspy voice returned: "What did he, the father, say in his final moments?" Zhang Yuanqing's voice naturally softened. "He asked me to convey to the Master: I'm truly sorry, but until now, I still don't know—was it my fault, or was it the world's?" As he spoke, he recalled once again the gaze of a father who had failed to be a father—filled with resentment and sorrow. The hall fell into a prolonged silence, so deep that Zhang Yunqing and Xie Lingxi grew uneasy. Finally… Master Wuhen sighed: "I understand." Xie Lingxi hesitated, then, with courage, asked softly: "Master, he saved my life—his heart was good, he was no evil person. Then, why did he become a figure of evil?" The young monk in the blue robe said slowly: "He used to have a daughter who was very intelligent and well-behaved. From primary school through university, she always performed well academically. However, during her university years, she gradually changed—she began to pursue material comforts and blindly compared herself with her peers. To support his daughter, he worked tirelessly from morning till night, earning as much as he could, yet he found himself increasingly unable to meet her growing demands. One day, he discovered that she had borrowed a significant amount of money online and had been photographed in compromising situations. "Unable to repay these debts, he felt deeply ashamed—not only of the financial strain but also of how his daughter had become a source of embarrassment for the family. The two clashed fiercely, and he declared he would sever their relationship. To him, everything had gone wrong: his daughter had become materialistic, self-centered, and had lost all recognition as the daughter he once knew. "Eventually, the lending company gained control over her, forcing her into a profession involving physical labor, treating her with disrespect and humiliation. In her despair, she jumped from the building and took her own life." "Overwhelmed and broken as a father, he began to feel that it was his own fault. If he could have provided his daughter with a comfortable material life, if he could have afforded to pay off her debts, none of this tragedy would have unfolded. He repeatedly regretted the argument they had that day—had he only comforted and stayed by his daughter’s side then, perhaps none of the subsequent events would have happened. It was he who had personally pushed his daughter into the abyss. After his daughter’s death, he intended to sue the lending company, to hold accountable those who had tormented and ultimately driven her to death. But that lending company held considerable influence in the region, and he lost the case. For a long time, he remained withdrawn, realizing that it wasn’t his daughter who was at fault—it was him, it was this world. He believed that people could not change their environment; rather, they were shaped by it. When society constantly shouts to you about materialism and wealth, about money, you inevitably become materialistic, become focused on wealth—no one can escape this transformation." "Her daughter hasn't entered society yet, still naive about human nature's treachery—she's been guided into consumption, into borrowing, and only then does she reach this point of no return. This world has utterly failed her. He decides to take personal revenge... He storms into the lending company, kills the perpetrators who once humiliated and ultimately killed her, and then escapes the scene. It is precisely that act of violence that grants him his role card, making him a seductive demon." "Being a father who feels deeply regretful is a passionate man, yet he is not a bloodthirsty villain. Once he embraces the path of evil, however, there is no turning back. As he journeys further along this one-way path, his rank grows, yet his suffering deepens. Until one day, he meets me and follows me in practice, hoping to calm his inner resentment and find redemption. But he remains so rigid—he refuses to kill the innocent, yet stubbornly refuses to reconcile with this world." "Perhaps death is the finest destination for him..." That's why he had saved Xie Lingxi. His daughter was about the same age as this young woman. He had regretted countless times not reaching out to her when she was in trouble—when he leapt forward, he hadn't saved Xie Lingxi; he had saved the daughter who had once jumped from the building to her death. Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the young green tea, and Xie Lingxi stood motionless, her eyes glistening with tears. "Thank you for bringing his final message—it's called the 'Dream-Connecting Jade Seal.' Break it, and you'll be able to reach me. When in danger, I'll come to your aid once. This only works in the physical world; it's ineffective in the spiritual realm." Master Wuhen said calmly. "Now, go." The Buddha statue and the candlelight began to warp and shatter. Zhang Yuanqing and Xie Lingxi returned to the hotel. They stood at the open doorway of their room, a standard single room inside. Lying at their feet were two black jade slabs.