The Ferocious God in the Celestial Master's Mansion

As the sun began to set, Zhang Yulei, almost blending into the shadows, stood silently on the gnarled branches of an ancient tree on the tree-lined path outside the Wang family mansion. He gazed at the black sedan speeding away in the distance. In the back seat sat the plump, white figure of Wang Ai, who was now pressing his forehead with a look of anxiety, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

"It came faster than expected." Zhang Yulei's lips curled into a cold smile.

He had already thoroughly investigated the Wang family's defenses last night, and naturally understood what Wang Ai's frantic appearance meant—Zhang Chulan and his group had succeeded. Those "performance art" photos taken by "Tianjin Wei Xiaotaoyuan" must have precisely struck Wang Ai's weak spot. His grandson, Wang Bing, who was severely injured by Zhang Lingyu at the Luo Tian Grand Ceremony and remains unconscious to this day, was indeed the old fox's Achilles' heel.

The car engine's roar faded into the distance. Zhang Yulei moved slightly, landing on the ground like a falling leaf. He didn't act immediately, but instead held his breath, expanding his Qi perception to its maximum, carefully probing the movements within the mansion. With Wang Ai gone, the Wang family's defenses, though not relaxed, subtly revealed a crack—half of the guards who had been surrounding the main courtyard had their attention diverted towards the outside, clearly worried about Wang Ai's safety.

"The opportunity is perfect."

Zhang Yulei muttered something under his breath, his footwork shifting as if he were one with the flowing light and shadow. He evaded the patrolling guards, bypassed hidden surveillance cameras, and deliberately moved through the shadows of pavilions and towers. Although the Wang family garden was large and intricately laid out, it couldn't stop a veteran like him who had been immersed in the art of divination and strategy for decades. In less than half an incense stick's time, he had arrived at the long-abandoned ancestral hall deep within the mansion.

This ancestral hall does indeed have an eerie feel to it.

The vermilion beams and pillars were mottled and faded, and scaffolding still stood in many places, clearly indicating that construction had been halted for many years. Yet, amidst this desolation, Zhang Yulei sensed the auras of no fewer than ten extraordinary individuals, like lurking venomous snakes, hidden among the broken walls and dense bushes surrounding the ancestral hall. While these individuals' Qi was not top-tier, it was exceptionally refined, and their breathing carried a deliberately suppressed deathly stillness, clearly indicating that they were rigorously trained assassins.

"Why would an ordinary ancestral hall need so many extraordinary people to guard it?" Zhang Yulei's gaze grew increasingly solemn.

He didn't rush in rashly. Instead, he flicked his finger, sending a barely perceptible wisp of Qi like a thread towards an old locust tree on his left. Behind the tree was a man in black wielding a short blade. The moment the Qi touched him, it transformed into a gentle yet irresistible force, sealing his meridians and sea of ​​consciousness. The man in black didn't even have time to groan before he collapsed, remaining in a half-squatting position, as if he were merely taking a short rest from exhaustion.

Following the same method, Zhang Yulei made his move in quick succession. Golden light flowed from his fingertips, and with each flick, a hidden superhuman silently lost consciousness. His movements were lightning fast and incredibly precise, always managing to subdue his opponents before they even noticed. In less than a quarter of an hour, he had dealt with all ten superhumans outside the ancestral hall without alerting anyone inside the mansion.

After doing all this, Zhang Yulei slowly walked towards the half-closed wooden door of the ancestral hall. The hinges were already rusted, and a gentle push produced a creaking sound that sounded particularly jarring in the quiet afternoon.

Meanwhile, in the VIP ward of the city's central hospital.

As soon as Wang Ai entered the room, his gaze was fixed on the pale-faced boy on the hospital bed—his beloved grandson, Wang Bing. The boy was still unconscious, breathing weakly, but his face was relatively clean, unlike the disheveled appearance in the photos.

"Sir, you've arrived." The nurse standing by the bedside quickly bowed.

Wang Ai ignored the nurse and went straight to the bedside, reaching out a trembling hand to touch Wang Bing's forehead. The touch was icy cold, making his heart tighten. He turned to look at Wang Zhong, who had followed him in, his knuckles white from gripping the cane so tightly that the cane scraped the floor with a harsh "squeak": "Wang Zhong! Send more people! From now on, a guard every three steps, a sentry every five steps, they must stay by Bing'er's side every second! Not even a fly is allowed to enter this ward!"

"Yes! I'll take care of it right away!" Wang Zhong didn't dare to delay and quickly agreed and withdrew.

Only Wang Ai and the unconscious Wang Bing remained in the ward. Wang Ai sat on a chair by the bed, looking at her grandson's lifeless face. A trace of pain flashed in her eyes, which was then replaced by deep resentment.

He wasn't unaware that Zhang Chulan might retaliate. He knew things wouldn't end well the moment Zhang Chulan appeared in Zhonghai. Zhang Chulan was a well-connected figure, representing official power; if things escalated, the Wang family might not come out on top. But he was unwilling to accept it! The Feng Hou Qi Men technique was so close, yet it was held by that brat Wang Ye—he couldn't swallow this insult!

It wasn't until Zhang Yulei came knocking on his door yesterday that he truly realized he was afraid. That old monster's strength far exceeded his imagination; if things really came to a head, the Wang family would likely be doomed. He had already resolved to back down, even if it meant suffering some losses, to preserve the Wang family's foundation first.

But he never expected that Zhang Chulan and his group of juniors would be so ruthless as to use the unconscious Wang Bing to threaten him!

"Zhang Chulan... Zhang Yulei..." Wang Ai hissed, her voice filled with suppressed madness, "I'll remember this debt! You just wait! As soon as I get my chance, I'll tear you to pieces and grind your bones to dust!"

He knew now was not the time to lash out. Zhang Yulei was watching him like a tiger, and the attitude of Na Du Tong was unclear, so he could only swallow this bitter pill for the time being. But Wang Ai had lived for nearly a hundred years; what storms hadn't he seen? Patience was his forte.

He gently stroked Wang Bing's cheek, his tone becoming unusually tender, yet carrying a chilling undertone: "Bing'er, don't worry, Grandpa will definitely avenge you. Those who bullied you, Grandpa won't let a single one get away with it..."

Inside the abandoned ancestral hall of the Wang family.

Zhang Yulei pushed open the door and entered. A strong smell of dust mixed with a faint smell of blood hit him, causing him to subconsciously frown.

The interior of the ancestral hall appeared even more dilapidated than the exterior. The central shrine was empty, construction debris was scattered on the floor, and cobwebs covered the corners. But Zhang Yulei's gaze fell on the hidden door shrouded in a curtain at the deepest part of the ancestral hall.

The hidden door blended seamlessly with the surrounding walls. Had he not possessed keen Qi perception and sensed the faint energy fluctuations emanating from behind it, he would likely have been deceived. More importantly, the Qi contained within those fluctuations was identical to the chilling aura he had sensed from Wang Ai, only much denser and more sinister.

"It really is here."

Zhang Yulei walked slowly toward the hidden door, each step extremely light, as if afraid of disturbing something. He could sense that something extremely sinister was hidden behind the hidden door, an aura that reminded him of the shikigami he had encountered on the battlefield years ago, created by evil magic, filled with deathly stillness and resentment.

He reached out and lifted the curtain, revealing a hidden door carved from a single piece of bluestone. The door was engraved with many twisted and strange runes, which, upon closer inspection, resembled countless human figures struggling in pain, exuding an indescribable eeriness.

"These runes... are they used to imprison spirits?" Zhang Yulei's pupils contracted slightly.

He had seen similar records in ancient books from Longhu Mountain. These runes were called "Soul-Locking Runes," a long-lost evil technique used to imprison living souls and prevent them from dissipating. The fact that the Wang family had inscribed these runes here clearly indicated that they were performing some kind of soul-related ritual.

"Soul refining... spirit binding and commanding..." Zhang Yulei slowly clenched his fist, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes. "Wang Ai, you really were doing these heinous things!"

He didn't open the hidden door immediately. The aura emanating from behind it was too dangerous; he wasn't sure what was hidden inside, and rushing in might alert the enemy.