Leaving the conference room, Yuan Ting exhaled a long breath, feeling the pressure ease. This young lord from the Fu family—whether it be his personal level or his distinguished lineage—was simply out of reach. When facing him, one often felt the weight of an upper-ranking official rather than being treated as just another affluent second-generation heir. Yuan Ting’s gaze swept past two rabbit-dancer women passing by. Both were in their twenties, well-proportioned with graceful postures and lovely faces. There were seven or eight such rabbit-dancers residing in the villa, each one a beauty. Though surrounded by beautiful women, Yuan Ting knew that this young man from a noble household had little interest in romantic pursuits. Since the beginning, two waves of rabbit-dancer recruits had already changed—the newly hired girls believed they had their chance to rise like phoenixes and could not contain their restless energy. They made repeated attempts to engage with Mr. Fu Qingyang. All of them were ultimately persuaded to step back. Now, the remaining girls in the villa behaved steadily and diligently, no longer harboring unrealistic ambitions. The presence of rabbit-dancer women seemed to serve as a status symbol or simply reflect Fu Qingyang’s personal preference. After leaving the villa and entering his dedicated vehicle, Yuan Ting reviewed today’s meeting content. He first reported the critical information about the death of the Gyi-Jian Judge and the subsequent concealment of his trusted Black Unusual one—carrying both the Skill Cup and the Skill Register—to Taiyi Gate. Once the essential matters were completed, he sent a message to his close friend Jian Ji: “Something major has happened in Songhai. The Gyi-Jian Judge has died unexpectedly. His closest attendant, the Black Unusual, is now secretly holding onto the Skill Cup and the Skill Register…” Jian Ji: “I’m stunned—how could such an important figure simply vanish overnight? It feels like a country has been erased from existence all of a sudden.” They exchanged mutual sentiments before turning their attention to how the collective actions of the Fallen Ones might unfold across different time dimensions. Jian Ji: “Are there any more?” Indeed, there was. The Night Wandering Deity who had just passed through the She Ling Tunnel recently slaughtered a 3rd-level Enchantment Demon—this detail must remain confidential; if it were to be disclosed, Sun Elder would surely end me. Yuan Ting’s expression twisted slightly as he typed out the message: “There's one more piece of news you should hear—but don’t share it with anyone. Sun Elder is quite bewildered—he wasn't even looking for this Night Wandering Deity…” … In a dimly lit bedroom in Songhai, the only light came from three candles arranged in a triangle on the table. At the center stood a red lacquered box, its lid bearing an intricate carving of a strange insect. A figure wearing a silver mask knelt at the edge of the table, using a small knife to pierce his fingertip—fresh crimson blood welling out. He pressed his stained finger gently into the mouth of the carved insect. The creature stirred to life and eagerly drank in the blood. The lacquered box’s hue deepened progressively, turning more vibrant red. A soft sound emerged—like a whisper of wind—and then, the candles caught the blood's glow. The flames flared upward, forming a towering crimson vortex above the wooden box. “What is it?” The voice came from within the flame vortex—calm yet authoritative. “The instructions have been carried out,” the figure said. “I’ve released the bait—the Five Elements Alliance will tirelessly search for the Black Unusual. However, I cannot guarantee that he will remain concealed in Songhai.” The tone of authority continued: “My divination shows that the Black Unusual is indeed within Songhai. His presence here must have a purpose—though the specific reason remains to be verified.” “What further instructions do you have?” “Work quietly with the Five Elements Alliance as they search for him, and notify me immediately upon receiving any news. For now, I shall remain in the Spirit Realm. My response time may not always be prompt.” “You have assigned a task?” “No—I am personally seeking the location where the Gyi-Jian Judge died. By chance, I recently met with someone from Taiyi Gate—ah! The circumstances surrounding his death are far more complex than it first appeared…” The voice gradually softened and then faded as the crimson vortex of flame diminished. … “Knock-knock…” Two taps sounded at the door. Grandmother’s voice drifted into the room: “Yuanzi, dinner is ready.” Her tone carried a light cheer, suggesting she was in good spirits. Zhang Yuanqing opened his eyes. The bedroom was dark—curtains blocked out the outside lights. How comfortable! After all day’s exertions, this feeling of restoration finally returned—but alas, Songhai lacks clear moonlight; otherwise, a moment under the moon would have been perfect… Zhang Yuanqing yawned, slipped on cotton slippers, and opened the bedroom door to head toward the living room. A rich aroma filled his senses. The dining table was laden with dishes—crispy pork, braised pork, roasted duck, chicken soup with lotus root, asparagus, and spring bamboo shoots. Grandmother wore an apron and moved between the kitchen and living area. Uncle Fu assisted in the kitchen. On the sofa sat Grandfather, his hair now gray, sitting upright and fully focused on the television. At the dining table sat a middle-aged couple—Zhang Yuanqing’s aunt and uncle. His aunt had an elegant appearance with fair skin, though showing signs of maturity, she remained well-maintained. She wore a white dress with a corset, her hair flowing in gentle waves, carrying a delicate air of refinement. The man beside her shared a similar facial structure with Chen Yuanjun, dressed in a purple suit, tailored pants, and a rose-colored shirt—energetic, like a night club gentleman—or perhaps even more so—a distinguished lord. Zhang Yuanqing’s uncle, however, was less reliable. In his younger years, he pursued music, dreaming of artistic fulfillment and the promise of poetry and distant horizons. He left home with a suitcase, wearing bell-bottoms, and traveled with several like-minded friends to become a roaming singer. Years later, having neither found his dream nor escaped the hardships of urban life, he returned home, still unwilling to settle into conventional work. Instead, he carried around a recording device, performing wherever he went—either singing karaoke or spending evenings socializing with friends. Of course, such patterns were common among young city dwellers at that time—just ‘being in it.’ Because of his good looks and pleasant voice, he managed to marry the well-off aunt. For several years after marriage, he became more settled—but once their son, Uncle Fu, was born, he quickly reverted to his old habits. He spent most of his days doing little more than lounging, simply enjoying himself—no regular employment. “Yuanzi,” said the uncle upon seeing his heir, “how do you feel about me?” The nephew nodded and offered a polite response. “A gift has arrived for you,” the uncle explained. “Oh, my dear uncle! You finally returned—I hadn’t known until now. If I had been informed earlier, I would have gone to the airport to greet you—God Himself would have certified it!” Zhang Yuanqing’s tone transformed dramatically, expressing his deep emotion. The two laughed heartily and shook hands, then embraced—one of them gently took hold of the nephew’s shoulder as they sat down. “Yuanzi,” said the uncle, “I recently traveled abroad and studied singing techniques from chimpanzees. When we sing, we should add tongue twirling and lip-tapping—this will give us a more commanding presence…” “I know about tongue twirling,” Zhang Yuanqing interjected with a look of astonishment, “but what is ‘lip-tapping’? Truly impressive—I never thought my uncle had such talent. I’ll have to keep track of the monthly expenses now.” “Nothing at all,” said the uncle with a smile. “My wife has the funds—she’ll send it over shortly.” Soon after, Uncle Fu and Grandmother brought the final plates of food and invited everyone to begin dinner. “Where is Aunt Jiang?” Zhang Yuanqing asked. “She mentioned an issue at the hospital and will return later,” said Grandmother. The uncle raised his eyebrows with a chuckle. “At the hospital? Perhaps she’s been out on a date?” Grandmother laughed, shaking her head: “That would be wonderful! Look at her—the moment she turns thirty, she won’t marry. What has become of modern young people—so many are reluctant to settle down.” Grandmother expressed deep dissatisfaction with current societal trends. The uncle added: “Speaking of it—I hear Chen Yuanjun is still unmarried. Chen Yuanjun, you should bring your date over so my father can see him one day.” The serious and composed Uncle Fu paused in surprise: “What?” Slightly shrugged, the uncle said, “You’re now thirty—still without a girlfriend? Then my father will have to simply wait for one.” Just as he finished speaking, Grandmother lifted her sleeve and prepared to deliver an energetic reprimand. “Mother,” urged the uncle, “I was only joking! You mustn’t lose your sense of humor—you know how popular it is now to form male couples. Young people love that trend!” The aunt quietly continued eating without responding. Her relationship with Grandmother remained strained—rarely do spouses achieve harmonious coexistence in modern life. Grandmother was assertive and demanding; her daughter-in-law, equally strong-willed, complained about the former’s excessive interference. When Zhang Yuanqing was young, these two often argued—during their heated exchanges, Aunt Jiang would sit quietly sipping roasted peanuts beside them. Zhang Yuanqing would frequently intervene, urging both of them to stop arguing and then take over the peanuts from her hands. Uncle Fu typically sat with his homework while quietly munching on the same peanuts. Now, as time passed, the aunt had outgrown her youthful passion—she no longer sought constant conflict. Yet their relationship remained neither warm nor distant. At that moment, Uncle Fu turned and asked: “Did you hear about something at school today?” “Oh? I didn’t know. I came back early to sleep…” Zhang Yuanqing pretended ignorance. Grandmother immediately asked what the matter was—Chen Yuanjun explained briefly. Upon hearing that intruders had infiltrated the school, Grandmother expressed even greater concern about the current state of affairs. As they discussed this, a soft “drip” sound came from the security door, followed by the handle being turned open. Sitting in the last seat near the entrance, Zhang Yuanqing glanced over—there stood Aunt Jiang returning. That day, she wore a half-overshirt with an open shoulder design, revealing smooth, fair shoulders. Inside, she wore a black vest and paired it with light blue summer pants—her white shoes completed her look. Zhang Yuanqing’s eyes stopped at the spot just below her knees—his gaze immediately sharpened. On Jiang Yubi’s lower leg hung a rounded infant. …