In the study, Zhang Yuanqing glanced at the portrait hanging on the wall, then at the upright posture of Fu Qingyang, and remarked, "It's a fine painting—yet, it's a pity." Just as Fu Qingyang was about to speak, he paused, startled: "What do you mean?" Zhang Yuanqing said sincerely, "No matter how skilled the painter, he can never capture even one-thousandth of the spirit and elegance of a centurion. That's why it's a pity." Fu Qingyang looked at him steadily, then said calmly, "Let's get down to business—don't waste time on these trivial exchanges." Yet, Zhang Yuanqing sensed from the subtle expressions in Fu Qingyang's demeanor that he actually found the conversation quite pleasant. When he first entered, Fu Qingyang had his brows slightly furrowed, visibly preoccupied; now, however, his brows were relaxed, and his expression had softened. Zhang Yuanqing pulled out a high-backed chair and sat down, gazing at the composed, reserved young man by the desk, and asked, "How long will it take the elders to reach a decision regarding Xiu Hou Chi?" "I can't give you a definite answer." Fu Qingyang shook his head and explained: "Xiahou Chi can't escape, but he is the core of the Xiahou family's lineage. Before taking any action against him, we must consult with the Xiahou family. If we execute him without notice, it will damage the relationship between the two factions, possibly even leading to conflict." That's pure mindset dictated by one's position—Fu Qingyang nodded, showing his understanding. Elders think differently from frontline staff, and only when their perspectives align do issues arise. "What plans does the centurion have next for the investigation?" Fu Qingyang glanced at him but said nothing. It seemed there was no immediate solution—indeed, finding a high-level spiritual realm traveler who has been quietly hiding is extremely difficult, and it will take time. Zhang Yuancheng immediately replied: "Centurion, I recall that on the night when the unruly one was killed, we discussed the motivation behind Hei Wuzhong's decision to remain hidden in Songhai. It was because the Fallen Holy Cup encountered issues, prompting Hei Wuzhong to secretly connect with the Night Rose and meet with her in Songhai." Fu Qingyang nodded slightly. Zhang Yuanqing continued: "After I got home yesterday, I thought about it for a long time... Why would the Night Rose help the Black Unseen? What benefits would they gain?" Fu Qingyang's gaze sharpened. As for whether the Mage King uses tools or specific items, I need to consult the archives and may need to request access permissions from the Taiyuan Sect. "The Dark Night Rose likely aims to obtain it. While this doesn't directly lead us to Black Unusual, the more information we gather, the clearer our breakthrough will become." The composed young gentleman smiled and praised, "Your idea is excellent—I'm truly not mistaken in my assessment. If you were a scout, you'd certainly excel." Still, honestly, what's there to be so impressed about? Zhang Yuanqing dared to make such a remark in front of Li Dongze, but would never dare to criticize a scout in front of Fu Qingyang. He sighed, "Indeed, indeed."... After leaving the villa, Zhang Yuanqing called Wang Qian. "What would you like me to do?" Wang Qian said respectfully. Isn't it a bit too frequent that I contact you? "Please convey to the Master of Zhishi Palace that Xia Hou Xin has been silenced. Also, regarding the matters I asked her to investigate, I hope she can expedite her efforts—the timeline is pressing." "Zhang Yuancheng spoke in a steady tone. Wang Qian listened intently, stunned into silence. On one hand, she was amazed that Xiahou Xin had been silenced—by whom? On the other, the urgency in Yuanshǐ Tianzun's voice, urging her to move quickly to investigate—made her wonder if the Palace Master might even be one of his informants. Was the Palace Master really not a contact of this young man's?!" Wang Qian hung up the phone, looking puzzled. Next, she would head to Wuhen Hotel to gather intelligence from the staff there—those with a touch of the sinister. Zhang Yuancheng stepped out of the villa complex, wandered along the roadside for a long time, and finally hailed a taxi. After settling the fare, he boarded and headed toward Jinshan City in the north. An hour later, Zhang Yuancheng entered the hotel lobby, wearing a baseball cap and a mask. The woman at the front desk glanced at him, studied him briefly, recognized him, and furrowed her brows, saying, "What do you want now?" She still wore the same attire—white shirt paired with a wine-red suit—her standard hotel Her five features are bright and elegant, with round, graceful eyes, a high and prominent chest, exuding the charm of a mature woman. Yet her demeanor is cold and reserved, making it difficult to approach. Knowing that the other person was not cruel, Zhang Yuqing smiled gently. "Don't be so cautious. I'd like to be friends with you—more friends mean more pathways." The beautiful woman narrowed her eyes, coldly replied, "If you're only after me personally, you'll meet a grim end. If you're after my entire network, you'll fare even worse. 'Go back. This isn't the place for you.'" Not at all—why do you think I'm interested in you? Doesn't a hawk eat its chicks? In his heart, Zhang Yuqing murmured his disbelief, then skillfully leveraged his social grace: "Don't speak so definitively. Everyone needs friends, and everyone should know how to make them. It's precisely because of my friendship that your family learned of his final words." The beautiful woman stared at him for several seconds, then coldly said, "Tell me your purpose." Zhang Yuanqing immediately replied, "Have you heard of Hei Wu Chang? The official authorities have recently been pursuing him. Do you have any updates on him?" The beautiful woman scoffed, "Do you think I can simply sit in this hotel and keep you informed about Hei Wu Chang's whereabouts?" After pausing for a few seconds, she added, "I can help you find out at the underground market." Noticing Zhang Yuan清's puzzled expression, she gave a light breath and explained, "It's not the official-type underground market. It's the one only evil professionals know—after all, even the most despicable individuals need to make transactions." "But I'll charge you a service fee, a risk contingency fee, and a mental distress fee." The service and risk fees made sense, but what on earth was the mental distress fee? Zhang Yuanqing asked, "The mental distress fee?" The woman rolled her eyes, firmly stating, "Every time I see those ugly, repulsive people, I feel as though I've been sexually assaulted a hundred times." "Well, you've already been so self-deprecating—I don't know what else to say." Zhang Yuanqing found himself at a loss for negotiation points and simply asked, "Just tell me the price." "Five thousand!" the woman said calmly, "Regardless of whether we've gathered any intelligence, no refund will be given." Five thousand—back in my day, I would have had to strip off completely and lie on the bed, saying, "Madam, tonight I'm yours." But now, for me, this is just a small amount. Zhang Yuanqing replied, "Deal. My only condition is speed—faster is better." He then pulled out his phone. "Let's exchange contact information. May I know your name?" "Xiao Yuan," she said. "A lovely name," he remarked. After leaving the Huo Shen Hotel, Zhang Yuanqing walked along the road toward Songhai, intending to continue on foot before taking a taxi. Compared to Songhai, the infrastructure of Jinshan City falls short, especially in this more suburban area, where large trucks frequently pass, causing cracks and tilts in the road surfaces. "Ding-dong~" The phone in Zhang Yuanqing's pocket vibrated. He stopped at the roadside and pulled out his phone to check. An unread message: 【Have you heard of the legend of the White-Cloaked Murderess? She is a malevolent spirit that wanders through dreams. Her appearance is that of a woman dressed in a white robe so stained and soiled it appears dirty, with her hair loose and flowing, holding a vegetable knife in her hands. Her body is composed of limbs from different people, and her face is turned toward the back—she always walks backward.】 【The White-Cloaked Murderess drifts through the dreams at night, seeking her victims. When she decides on a target, she knocks on that person's door at midnight and then kills them.】 【Anyone who receives this message must forward it to the next person by midnight. Otherwise, the White-Cloaked Murderess will come to find you.】 "What kind of outdated, useless message is this in this day and age—where you just have to forward it or else?" Zhang Yuanqing suddenly recalled the humorous messages that used to go viral among student chat groups during his school days—exactly in this format. At that moment, a taxi arrived. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, held out his hand to hail the taxi, and upon learning it was heading to Songhai, the driver readily agreed. …… Zhang Yuanqing returned to Songhai at noon, precisely at 11 o'clock. He had originally planned to find a restaurant on the street to settle for lunch. Suddenly, he remembered that in order to enhance employee benefits, Teng Yuan, the head of the department, had increased each employee's lunch allowance by ten yuan—originally thirty yuan per meal, now raised to forty. That would be a quite decent lunch. He immediately asked the driver to take a detour to the Kangyang District Public Security Office. Upon entering the glass building, in the leisure area on the left, Guan Ya, Teng Yuan, and Jiang Jingwei were already gathered around a glass round table, having lunch. Guan Ya dined with grace, chewing slowly and savoring each bite; the vibrant red of her mouth, glistening with oil, was especially appealing. Teng Yuan, the senior officer, ate in a composed, expressionless manner, his gaze slightly vacant, showing little enthusiasm for either daily life or food. Jiang Jingwei, on the other hand, devoured her meals with great vigor, her eating style rivaling that of the blonde monkey. Though the girl was clearly beautiful, she was unfortunately a fire specialist. Zhang Yuanqing sighed and instructed the clerical staff to prepare his lunch. Then, with a bright smile, he walked toward his teammates, saying, "Ha ha, I've come at the perfect time." Guan Ya carefully swallowed her food and looked at Zhang Yuanqing as he approached, asking, "You've been a bit sluggish these days." That's what they call "the beam above is crooked, so the beam below follows suit"—or, more accurately, responding to the leadership's call! Sitting down beside the elder Lady Si Ji, Zhang Yuanqing said, "I haven't been sluggish at all today—I've been on a business trip." "Hm?" Guan Ya expressed her confusion with a nasal tone. Zhang Yuanqing explained, "I hired a thirty-year-old lady, gave her a sum of money, and handled several matters." "Guan Ya was momentarily stunned, then smiled, saying, 'Good eye—by the time you're in your thirties, you'll learn so many things from me.' 'If I get the chance, I'd also like to learn from Guan Ya sister,' Zhang Yuanqing said, noticing that Jiang Jingwei had a red school bag by her feet and asking, 'Jingwei, aren't you no longer attending school?' Jingwei looked up, surprised, 'How come you're here?' A crude fire officer! Zhang Yuanqing repeated the question. 'Oh, my father insists that work shouldn't interfere with studies, so he asked me to bring my assignments to the unit. That way, Guan Ya sister and Ting Yuan brother can help me with my homework,' the red-haired girl said with confidence. Guan Ya frowned. Ting Yuan's expression seemed even more resigned. 'Teaching you how to do your homework?' Zhang Yuanqing looked at her two colleagues with pity. Ting Yuan pushed his glasses up his nose and said, 'Yuan Shi, you must be a college student, don't you think you could teach Jingwei how to do her homework?' "I've been out of university for quite some time now, and my academic knowledge has gradually faded." "Thanks, Shizhang. I went to a 'wild bird' university—my studies are quite mediocre." Zhang Yuan quickly declined and shifted the topic, saying: "Shizhang, I can tell you're not particularly enthusiastic about your work, aren't you?" Teng Yuan Shizhang paused, then spoke slowly: "Early in my life, I realized that the world is full of exploitation—high taxes are the government's form of pressure, and intense work demands are the capital's way of squeezing us. When I was young, I studied with the dedication of hanging beams and stabbing my body with needles, never resting a single moment, living like a dog. After entering society, I faced further exploitation and pressure from all sides, living more like a donkey. With only a hundred years of life, why should we live so tirelessly? I can't change others, but I can change myself." That sounded deeply philosophical—well, actually, that sounded exactly like the 'laying down and doing nothing' lifestyle... Zhang Yuan was momentarily stunned. Teng Yuan Shizhang sighed: "Since becoming "...Zhang Yuanqing could only manage a polite, somewhat awkward smile. ... After dinner, Zhang Yuanqing returned to his bedroom and drew the curtains. Sitting at his desk, he began to think: "Master of the Cease-Combat Palace hasn't replied yet. According to what I understand, she must have gathered a considerable amount of information from Xiahou Tianwen—details that are all crucial leads in tracing the Night Rose. Indeed, the Night Rose herself is well aware of this. The Palace Master mentioned she needs to be on guard should the Night Rose's leader come to her personally... 'Aunt Xiao Yuan has taken my money—she should handle things properly. I hope she can provide some useful leads... I just hope Little Dork doesn't steal my aunt's undergarments again tomorrow—just one piece will be enough.' 'Click!' He turned off the lamp and fell asleep. Unknown to him, after some time had passed, Zhang Yuanqing was suddenly awakened by a long-overdue headache. A flurry of disjointed images flashed through his mind, accompanied by a constant stream of meaningless noise. Many of these images were memories fragments accumulated by Wen Ling since becoming the Night Traveler." Since becoming a spiritual realm traveler, as his physical constitution improved, he gradually outgrew his headaches, to the point of forgetting to take his medication on time. Zhang Yuanqing endured the splitting pain in his skull, opened the drawer of the bedside table, pulled out a small bottle of pills, poured out about five or six blue tablets, and swallowed them whole. Then he lay back on the bed, waiting for the headache to subside. "Knock, knock!" At that moment, he heard footsteps at the door. Who could it be? Someone knocking at this hour—probably Jiang Yu'er? Despite the waves of pain, Zhang Yuanqing sat up slowly, glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table, which read: 00:00, midnight.