No words could describe Zhang Yuanqing's current state of mind. If he had to sum it up, it would be: Fuck!
The Taiyi Sect hadn't given up on finding the Successor of the Demon Lord. Were they really this determined?
What should I do? Transfer the White Tiger in my Sea of Consciousness to Little Goofball? No, he couldn't withstand the White Tiger's oppressive aura; he'd be annihilated on the spot.
Confess? Gamble on Fu Qingyang's loyalty? If Guan Ya were sitting there, maybe. But Fu Qingyang likely suspected me when I manipulated Heaven's Injustice. He didn't say anything then, probably saving his trump card for when the Tiger Tally arrived. But that doesn't make sense either. With his Fiery Golden Eyes and Items, he could have forced the truth out of me even without the Tiger Tally.
I never thought it would come to this. Reality never follows your plans.
Zhang Yuanqing trembled violently, like a frightened quail, but in truth, he was locked in a fierce mental battle with the Fierce-Eyed White Tiger in his Sea of Consciousness, desperately resisting its influence. Despite his all-out struggle, he could only delay the inevitable revelation.
Finally, he opened his mouth and uttered a single word: "I..."
Bean-sized beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, splattering onto the ground.
Fu Qingyang's gaze deepened as he stared at him. "You what?"
In the Sea of Consciousness, the Fierce-Eyed White Tiger slowly rose to its feet, as if preparing to devour its prey.
Terror exploded within Zhang Yuanqing's heart, his Spectral Entity trembling violently. Just as he was about to confess his identity as the Successor of the Demon Lord, a surge of pure, Yin-aligned Lunar Power erupted from the depths of his Sea of Consciousness.
This power, like a dam bursting, flooded his Spectral Entity, ultimately coalescing into a massive Black Moon at the core of his Sea of Consciousness.
A hazy, ethereal moonlight cascaded down, enveloping Zhang Yuanqing's Spectral Entity. He felt an unprecedented sense of comfort and ease, as if returning to the womb.
A miraculous transformation occurred. When Zhang Yuanqing looked at the Fierce-Eyed White Tiger again, it remained imposing and terrifying, inspiring primal fear. Yet the soul-shattering pressure that had paralyzed him moments before had vanished.
No, it hadn't vanished. It was being shielded by the radiant glow of the Black Moon.
Sensing the Lunar Power pouring down from the "sky," Zhang Yuanqing, guided by his Nightwalker instincts, intuitively grasped the Black Moon's essence.
It symbolized Yin, symbolized Stealth!
Is this the power of the Character Card? Can it counteract the power of Rule Items? It's clearly more than just a reward for clearing instances. The Taiyi Sect's elaborate search for the Successor of the Demon Lord must have a deeper reason. There's something hidden here I don't know about, Zhang Yuanqing thought, inwardly astonished.
Having completely shaken off the Tiger Tally's oppressive aura, Zhang Yuanqing maintained a facade of fear and trepidation, as if standing on the edge of an abyss.
Under Fu Qingyang's increasingly piercing gaze, Zhang Yuanqing forced his voice to tremble. "I... I'm not the Successor of the Demon Lord."
As he spoke, Zhang Yuanqing inwardly examined his Sea of Consciousness, anxiously observing the Fierce-Eyed White Tiger's reaction.
The tiger remained majestic and unmoving, its imposing posture unchanged.
Did I... did I get away with it? Zhang Yuanqing nearly exhaled in relief, but remembering that Fu Qingyang hadn't withdrawn the Tiger Tally, he forcibly suppressed the urge.
Fu Qingyang waited a few seconds as usual. Seeing no further anomalies, his cold, stern expression softened abruptly. With a clench of his fist, the Tiger Tally vanished, returning to his Inventory.
Only then did Zhang Yuanqing relax, slumping back in the high-backed chair and gasping for breath.
Fu Qingyang rose, walked to the recording device, and switched it off.
Returning to the table, he gave Zhang Yuanqing nearly ten minutes to recover. Once his breathing had normalized and his complexion regained its color, Fu Qingyang spoke:
"Now we can speak privately.
"Primordial, I'd like to invite you to join the White Tiger Guards."
Zhang Yuanqing remained slumped in his chair. "The White Tiger Guards? The Faction you founded, Centurion?"
He recalled Ling Jun mentioning this.
"Yes," Fu Qingyang nodded. "The White Tiger Guards are currently a Level 3 Faction, allowing us to recruit twenty members. I've already recruited fifteen, and I want to offer you the sixteenth seat."
Zhang Yuanqing hesitated.
"The White Tiger Guards are my personal organization, with its own set of benefits. You'll receive a monthly salary of 100,000 yuan and a house in a prime location in a first- or second-tier city, valued at no less than 20 million yuan.
"Additionally, a private club will cater exclusively to the White Tiger Guards. You can contact them for any needs—purchasing luxury goods, high-end cars, or handling any requirements that require special qualifications.
"And if you're interested, the club can even arrange for a whole group of women wearing black stockings."
Zhang Yuanqing listened in stunned silence. By the last remark, he couldn't help but feel that the Centurion's perception of him was stubbornly biased and lacked objectivity.
Am I really that much of a womanizer?
"My only requirement is that my orders take precedence over those of the Five Elements Alliance," Fu Qingyang said calmly.
"In ancient terms, the White Tiger Guards are my brothers and my private army. Of course, we're officially a subordinate faction of the White Tiger Corps."
The offer was too generous to refuse. Zhang Yuanqing no longer hesitated and declared loudly, "I am willing to serve the Centurion until death!"
It was clear that Fu Qingyang intended to cultivate Zhang Yuanqing into a core member of his faction, helping him climb the official power pyramid. Individual heroism held little value in this context. Though the young master of the Fu family was aloof and arrogant, he lived up to his noble lineage, possessing all the skills and knowledge expected of his station.
Zhang Yuanqing suspected as much, but he still asked:
"Centurion, why did you recruit me?"
"I've wanted to invite you to join the White Tiger Guards for a long time," Fu Qingyang replied. "But Elder Miao insisted you pass the Grand Inspection first."
"That aligned with my own intentions. I've been waiting for the Grand Inspection to conclude. Among all the geniuses I've observed, you're the one I admire most."
As he spoke, the young master of the Fu family adopted an aloof expression, like a young monarch surveying his realm:
"The world is full of geniuses, but in my eyes, most are trash. Ling Jun is a genius, but he's too lazy—a lump of mud that can't be molded. Guan Ya is a genius, but she lacks the heart of a true warrior, content to drift along—also trash. Jiang Jingwei possesses extraordinary talent, yet her mind is consumed by fighting. She cultivates because she enjoys combat, not out of genuine ambition—still trash. The Female Marshal of the White Tiger Corps has talent so overwhelming it's despair-inducing, but her efforts don't match her potential—making her trash as well."
Zhang Yuanqing listened with growing trepidation, thinking, Centurion, you can't just say things like that! If word of this reaches the Emperor, you'll lose your head!
Yet the man behind the desk remained aloof and arrogant, as if he were the supreme ruler above all others.
Fu Qingyang continued:
"Primordial, you are different from the others. You possess a deeper inner world, a more polished exterior, and a more relentless spirit than your peers. This is the conclusion I've drawn from observing you. Two S-rank instance reports have shown me your resilience—your ability to grow stronger with each setback, a trait remarkably similar to my own."
"Such qualities are far more valuable than mere talent."
Similar to you? Good heavens, should I thank Father Emperor for his favor? Zhang Yuanqing couldn't help but want to retort.
He suddenly recalled Guan Ya's words: Fu Qingyang had possessed exceptionally poor talent in his youth, earning him the disdain of his family elders and the mockery of his peers.
Connecting this with Fu Qingyang's earlier remarks and his subsequent rise to prominence, Zhang Yuanqing began to understand why this aloof nobleman held him in such high regard.
"Thank you for your guidance, Centurion," Zhang Yuanqing quickly offered his gratitude and flattery.
Leaving Tang Hospital, Zhang Yuanqing declined Li Dongze's offer of a ride, claiming he had classes to attend. He walked alone along the bustling street, his mind preoccupied with two persistent questions:
First, the Black Moon.
"I remember Yuan Ting saying that when a Spirit Realm Walker dies, the Spirit Realm formats their Character Card. But for high-level Walkers, the formatting is never complete, leaving behind traces of their power."
"But this force is far too potent. To resist high-level Rule Items, it must be a power of immense magnitude. How could such a thing possibly remain? Could this be why the Taiyi Sect is so desperately searching for the Successor of the Demon Lord?"
"Or perhaps just part of the reason?"
"Still, it's a good thing. Unveiling the secrets of my Character Card bit by bit is better than remaining completely ignorant. It's just a pity I can't control this power, or even sense its presence. My Nightwalker instincts tell me it's the source of Taiyin, the embodiment of Stealth."
Second, his recurring headaches.
After the Grand Inspection, he realized his headaches were far from ordinary.
He hadn't delved deeply into his headaches before, partly because as an ordinary college student, his resources were limited and he felt helpless.
After becoming a Spirit Realm Walker, he wondered if there were "doctors" within the Spirit Realm. But at his low level and position, his authority was insufficient, and with the reduced frequency of his attacks, he hadn't given it much thought.
I need to ask Mom where she got that medicine, he thought, opening his contacts and dialing his mother's number, whom he hadn't contacted in over half a year.
Beep... beep...
The call connected quickly, and his mother's soft yet slightly assertive voice came through the speaker:
"Yuanzi? What is it? I have a meeting soon."
"Mom, where did you get that special medicine for me?" Zhang Yuanqing asked.
"Why are you asking all of a sudden? Did you run out?"
Though he couldn't see her, Zhang Yuanqing could practically picture his mother frowning, her voice tinged with impatience.
"I haven't run out. I just want to know," Zhang Yuanqing said flatly, his tone cold and detached, lacking his usual warmth and enthusiasm.
"I had a business partner abroad get that medicine for you. Didn't I tell you it was still in the research phase, not yet on the market? If your health hadn't been deteriorating so rapidly, Mom would never have given you this experimental drug. I never expected it to actually work."
"Which foreign company is it from?"
"Don't ask so many questions, child. You mustn't reveal the existence of this medicine—it's a trade secret." Her mother's voice was impatient, but she quickly softened her tone. "Mom will be back in China for the New Year. What gift would you like?"
"I don't need anything," Zhang Yuanqing replied.
After a moment of silence, she offered a compromise. "I remember that friend of mine is coming to the mainland this year to assess the market. If you really want to know more, you can ask him directly. I'll put in a good word for you."
"Mm-hmm," Zhang Yuanqing hummed in acknowledgment.
"Then I'll hang up now. Mom has a meeting to attend."
She was always like this—always busy, always impatient with inefficient communication. For her, nothing and no one, not even her own child, mattered more than her career.
Zhang Yuanqing hung up the phone.
He put his phone back in his pocket and walked for a while, feeling dejected, when it rang again.
Zhang Yuanqing immediately reached for his phone. When he saw it was Xie Lingxi calling, the hope in his eyes vanished. He answered the call irritably:
"You have thirty seconds. I'm surrounded by hot chicks with long legs in black stockings right now. I don't have time for your nonsense."
"Does Brother Primordial like black stockings? I could wear them for you," Xie Lingxi said sweetly.
Zhang Yuanqing paused, then shook his head. "No, you don't need to. You look better in a sailor uniform. Ahem, never mind that. I didn't mean I wanted to see you in a sailor uniform. Just get to the point."
"Sister Palace Master is back. She wants to see you," Xie Lingxi's voice lowered. "Her condition seems... off. It's hard to explain over the phone. Just come over."
The crazy bitch is back? Hmm, she's been up north for almost ten days. Zhang Yuanqing stopped walking and hailed a taxi at the roadside.
At Tang Hospital, Fu Qingyang stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, listening to his phone.
"We've screened all members in Kangyang District," he said. "No Night Rose operatives or individuals seduced or controlled by the Evil Organization were found."
Miao, the dog elder, grunted a low "Hmm." "Better than yesterday."
Yesterday's health inspection in Jinjiang District uncovered two Night Rose members, who were immediately detained. After interrogation, they revealed that their superior was likely an official Deacon-level figure.
The two members claimed not to know the superior's identity.
However, before the Grand Inspection of lower-level personnel, Elder Miao had already summoned the Deacons of the Songhai Branch for their own health checks.
All of them passed.
Fu Qingyang pondered aloud, "The Night Rose has methods to evade the Tiger Tally's detection. Elder, this is actually a clue."
Elder Miao grunted in agreement.
"There are few ways to bypass the Tiger Tally. Since the Night Rose Leader is a Nightwalker, I have a rough idea of his level. He's someone who has cultivated Lunar Power to its absolute limit, on par with the Five Alliance Leaders.
"Hah, Taiyin has two core abilities: Yin energy and Stealth."
These abilities were already evident in Transcendent Phase skills like Soul Devouring and Night Roaming.
Elder Miao shifted the conversation. "What's Primordial's evaluation?"
Fu Qingyang reported truthfully:
"Deacon Sun recommended against assigning him a significant position for now. He needs more experience and a deeper understanding of the true essence of law enforcement. As for my investigation, I discovered he had brief contact with an Evil Class member, but it was merely a fleeting encounter. I believe he's a young man of integrity and a strong sense of justice, and this shouldn't be held against him."
Elder Miao offered no immediate judgment, asking instead, "Which organization was he involved with?"
Fu Qingyang replied, "He said the person he contacted called himself Master Wuhen."
Elder Miao's tone brightened noticeably. "Ah, Wuhen. Then we can disregard it. By the way, did you ask him about the Taiyi Sect's inquiry?"
Fu Qingyang confirmed, "He's not the Successor of the Demon Lord."
Elder Miao finally smiled. "Excellent!"
Fu Family Bay. Ling Jun hung up the phone and muttered to himself:
"He really isn't the Successor of the Demon Lord? To display such monstrous talent without relying on any inherited legacy... Elder Sun seems even more confused now."
Regardless, Primordial's identity was no longer in doubt, and the Taiyi Sect could shift its investigative focus elsewhere.
He typed a message and sent it to Elder Sun's assistant.
Huayu Hotel.
Guided by a female assistant, Zhang Yuanqing rode the elevator to the presidential suite floor.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, he saw Xie Lingxi standing gracefully at the entrance, having waited for a long time.
"Brother Primordial~"
The little green tea automatically stepped forward, squeezed past the female assistant, and linked her arm through his, adopting the demeanor of a well-behaved younger sister.
"What does the Palace Master want with me?" he asked in a low voice.
Xie Lingxi shook her head slightly. "Sister Palace Master is seriously injured. She's in my room and insisted on seeing you immediately. You need to go there right away."
Seriously injured? I thought the Musician class was the Spirit Realm's healers, capable of producing the Life Elixir.
How severe could her injuries be? What level of Seductive Demon could have wounded her so badly?
But why insist on seeing me even when injured? Zhang Yuanqing nodded slightly. "Give me the room key."