As soon as he entered the villa's main hall, Zhang Yuanqing quickly scanned the room, then rushed up to the second floor. At the stairwell on the second floor, he paused. The room at the far end of the corridor was closed. A tall, broad-shouldered middle-aged man stood at the door, wearing a black vest, his muscles taut and his expression fierce—just like a character from a film, a bodyguard or a security officer. The villa was quiet, with only this man stationed at the entrance. "Wang Qian's sister should be inside. Xiahou Tianyuan brought her here. Hmm, if she were with him, with clear evidence, I'd immediately call Fu Qingyang... " He stepped out, observing the layout of the second floor. There was a camera facing the room where the man stood, positioned in his direction. If I were Xiahou Tianyuan, I'd have this camera monitored around the clock—any anomaly, and I'd dispatch help immediately," Zhang Yuanqing thought, quietly stepping back. At this moment, as the night excursion came to an end, he leaned against the wall beside the staircase, recovering his strength while pondering. Two options now presented themselves. Option one: to leave quietly, notifying Fu Qingyang to dispatch forces to rescue the "prisoners." Option two: to eliminate the bandits and take Wang Qian's sister with him. Compared to the second plan, it's more reliable—on the condition that he acts swiftly, without revealing his identity. Xiahou Tianyuan's first suspicion would definitely be the people from Zhishi Palace, not the great Yuanshishizhen. Zhang Yuanqing carefully considered the feasibility of the second plan: "Xiahou Tianyuan would never send a Saint-level disciple to guard a common practitioner. A practitioner of this rank wouldn't handle such routine tasks. The maximum he could possibly send would be a Level 3 Practitioner stationed on-site. The Xiahou family is a scholarly lineage, well-equipped with tools and supplies—among these people, there must be someone in charge of the tools, at the very least one key item. The middle-aged, sturdy man at the door feels very much like a Fire Master—his aura is deep and strong, while the others outside lack that depth. He is clearly the strongest among them." After weighing the options, he decided to take a risk and act swiftly: first, eliminate the three outside guards as quickly as possible, then, before Xiahou Tianyuan's reinforcements arrive, dispatch the man at the door. The third-level fire master who controls the props is quite strong—this will be a solid challenge for him. "If all else fails, I'll use the red veil. But I'll make sure to erase every trace of it," Zhang Yuanqing muttered to himself—after all, that was his daughter's mother. He chose to rescue the people single-handedly not just for Wang Qian, but partly out of a sense of personal grievance and a desire for retribution against the Xiaohou family, and partly because he genuinely cared for the little comic relief. Having raised the man's son as a spiritual servant was his way of repaying the favor. After organizing his thoughts, Zhang Yuanqing opened his inventory and retrieved the disguise ring. He had long since mastered the ring's functions and limitations: once worn, simply visualizing someone's appearance in his mind would allow him to transform into that person. The limitation was that he couldn't undergo a gender change, nor could he become more handsome than his natural appearance. [Note: Does he not know what he himself looks like?] That's exactly what he meant. Wearing the ring, Zhang Yuanqing mentally envisioned the appearance of Xiahou Tianyuan. After a few seconds, his image began to warp like ripples in water; when the waves settled, he had transformed into the likeness of Xiahou Tianyuan. Entering a night-wandering state, he quietly descended to the lower level. "The middle-aged man with a large belly sighed and said, 'I just thought it was boring. I figured I'd find something entertaining...' His expression suddenly stiffened as his gaze fixed on the living room. On the thick carpet, at the entrance, a pair of fresh red dance shoes moved up and down—startling and eerie. The other's instinctive reach to grasp and seize fell empty—his fingers only catching air, the linden blade piercing through like a fleeting shadow, shattering. A spell. At the next instant, a coldness swept over his back, and blood gushed forth. "Night... Night Wanderer?" he spat out, furious and resolute, then slowly collapsed to the ground. On the other side, the last of the kidnappers was just about to respond when the strange crimson ballet shoes suddenly approached, tapping steadily. He instinctively raised his fist to meet them, but heard a sharp crack—his wrist bones pierced the skin, his fist hanging limply at the wrist. Thump, thump, thump! The red shoes moved with swift, powerful strides, repeatedly and resolutely pressing down upon the kidnapper's chest. The middle-aged robber flew backward and never rose again. The entire sequence lasted less than ten seconds. Zhang Yuanqing stepped forward, driving the bloodthirsty blade into the chest of the final kidnapper, allowing the enchanted weapon of this enchanting spirit to draw deep nourishment from his life force. Holding the hilt, he felt a surge of intense, The lingering fatigue from consecutive nights of nocturnal wandering had completely dissipated, even surpassing his usual peak physical condition. The passive ability of the seductive spirit-being—the Bloodthirsty. Zhang Yuanqing held the Bloodthirsty blade, confidently stepping into the living room. As his feet touched the soft carpet, a swift flash of light erupted at the doorframe, shattering his head. Yet this was only a phantom. The burly man in the black shirt had, at some point, donned red fingerless gloves on his fists—his punch missed, and his expression briefly froze. Then, the true Zhang Yuanqing materialized like a ghost behind the man, driving a blade into his back. The attacks of the Night-Wanderer were silent and relentless, utterly unforeseen; yet, as the blade pierced his skin and entered his muscles, the fire master reacted with astonishing agility, falling forward. "Night-Wanderer…" the man in the black shirt rolled over and rose, raising an eyebrow. "You're not Master Tianyuan. Who are you?" "At least he's broken through—he'll keep bleeding... Zhang Yuanqing paid no attention to the man's words, closed the door to the living room, and then melted into the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. In the meantime, he quietly retrieved the Tian Chan Furnace and kicked it under the sofa, issuing a pursuit order to the Red Dance Shoe. Ding-ding-ding... The Red Dance Shoe moved with brisk steps, charging full speed toward the middle-aged, robust man. Taking advantage of the moment, Zhang Yuanqing slipped around to the left, aiming to flank and attack the fire master from both sides. If time had been more favorable, he could have replicated his victory over Ou Xiangrong in the underground parking garage. Unfortunately, not every battle unfolds under such ideal conditions. "Hmph!" The man in the black jacket snorted, raising his fists wrapped in gloves and sending forth a surge of blazing flames. He swung a powerful punch at the Red Dance Shoe. Soon, he felt the helpless agony of his fallen comrades—the flames and the punch pierced through the dancing shoes, followed by two sharp thuds as the pain surged in his chest. A massive flying kick sent his heart skipping, causing him to stagger back. Opportunity Zhang Yuanqing lowered his body and darted toward the enemy like a leopard. At that moment, he saw the tall, dark-shirted man plant his heel firmly to stabilize his stance, then sharply pressed his fists against his chest. "Boom!" It was as if a high-explosive hand grenade had detonated. The shockwave and heat surge swept across the entire living room, igniting the carpet, sofas, and wooden cabinets, sending towering flames leaping into the air. Zhang Yuanqing was thrown outward, his body aching so severely he nearly fainted—his hair blown back, his clothes on fire, and black-and-red burns with bleeding streaks appearing on his face. The dark-shirted man paled, as though the explosion had rebounded against him. With fierce determination, he charged forward, tensing the muscles along his back and drawing his right arm back to deliver a powerful punch. Crack! The air seemed to tear. Dazed and unable to dodge, Zhang Yuanqing chose the most effective response—reaching out into the air and grasping a golden orb that emerged. And then, the fierce punch struck his face. Thud… thud… thud… The blows grew heavier with each impact, landing on his face and chest. He seemed to have forgotten how to resist, staggering back with each blow, his steps heavy and labored, as though bearing an entire mountain on his shoulders. A tawny glow enveloped his body, rippling gently with each strike. The force of the punches passed through the defensive power of the "Steadfast One" pearl, pressing upon him—painful, yet bearable. A surge of hot wind rushed toward him, and Zhang Yuanqing lunged forward at top speed, deflecting the fireball that skimmed past his head and crashed against the wall nearby, scorching a large section of it. As he had just fallen to the ground and hadn't yet fully entered his night-wandering state, the third and fourth fireballs followed in quick succession. Zhang Yuanqing rolled sideways to evade the first one, but was struck in the waist by the second, his clothes instantly catching fire, sending sharp, searing pain through him. Thud! Thud! Two powerful kicks gave him a moment to catch his breath, and his rolling form vanished. The broad-shouldered man in black stepped aside to avoid a direct footfall, then suddenly felt a coolness at the top of his head. In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of the night-wandering deity, disguised as Tianyuan's young lord, emerging quietly on his left and sweeping his blade across. "Hmph, a ghostly maneuver!" This time, instead of charging forward, he curled his fingers and launched a stream of flame that easily pierced the attacker, sending the deity dissipating into smoke. Yet at that very moment, the broad-shouldered man He was startled, made a swift decision, and slammed his fists against his chest, sending forth a terrifying surge of flame and shockwave. Boom! The gust of wind shattered the television, uprooted the potted plants, and ignited the living room with roaring flames. Undisturbed—no surprise attack—Black-jacketed man exhaled a deep breath. Now that his vision had returned and the coolness overhead had vanished, he felt relieved. Suddenly, an itching sensation rose up in his throat, prompting him to cough. The more he coughed, the more it intensified. He bent over, his face turning crimson, eventually collapsing to the floor, his arms and legs growing stiff and numb. The Red Ballet Shoes seized the opportunity, launching relentless attacks, trampling the black-jacketed man again and again. At the staircase leading up to the second floor, Zhang Yuanqing watched silently, beside him was a round, tearful infant, clutching the adult’s pant leg with one small hand and pointing at the black-jacketed man, accusing him of having frightened her just moments before. It was precisely when the little comic had rested his head on the fire master’s, then, under Zhang Yuanqing’s control, The objective was to force the sturdy black-clad man to once again deploy his "explosion" tactic, as Zhang Yuanqing had previously keenly observed that this was a strategy involving the loss of eight hundred soldiers for every thousand enemies defeated. All of this served as a prelude to the "toxin attack." At the moment when Zhang Yuanqing's blade pierced the black-clad man through the back, a clear strategy emerged in his mind: using the red ballet shoes and the Blood-Drinking Blade for attrition, and reserving the Heavenly Toad Furnace as the decisive strike. The toxin emitted by the Heavenly Toad Furnace is continuously released; theoretically, inhaling it results in poisoning, though initially the dose is mild and easily tolerated by ordinary people, requiring time to build up. However, if the target is in poor health, frail, or weakened, their immunity will inevitably decline. Thus, Zhang devised a plan: to gradually weaken the enemy through relentless pursuit by the red ballet shoes and continuous bleeding from the Blood-Drinking Blade, and then conclude the engagement with the decisive power of the Heavenly Toad Furnace. And when Zhang Yuanqing used the Tianchan Furnace so boldly, it wasn't out of gamble—it was confident that his immune strength would surpass that of the Fire Master. The Night-Wanderer's robust vitality and self-healing capabilities were his solid foundation. The Fire Master lacked such passive abilities. Seeing the Fire Master finally go still under the pressure of the Red Dance Shoes, Zhang Yuanqing still felt uneasy. He treated Li Rend as a flying dagger, hurling it with force. The sharp blade drove straight into the Fire Master's abdomen, only then did he feel reassured, no longer hesitating. He quickly searched beneath the overturned sofa, retrieved the Tianchan Furnace—a bronze-bodied, black-wood-bodied artifact—and placed it in his inventory. Then, he returned the Blood-Drinking Blade, the Red Dance Shoes, and the Fire Master's gloves one by one. By now, the flames had begun to spread, blazing fiercely, threatening to engulf the entire living room. Zhang Yuanqing seized the moment, rushed up to the second floor, leaped high, and struck one of the surveillance cameras with a powerful punch. Ding-ding-ding... He sprinted down the corridor paved with elm wood floors, quickly reaching the door. Suddenly, Zhang Yuan's pupils contracted sharply as he fixed his gaze on the edge of the door. There, a smartphone lay quietly, its screen illuminated, maintaining an ongoing call. The caller—Xia Hou Tianyuan!