Zhou Huan burst out of the hotel and gave chase, shouting Xiao He’s name as he ran. It was quite a coincidence that Xiao He should appear in the corridor at that very moment; Zhou Huan’s mind couldn't help but recall the letter from his old friend.

Xiao He ran, leading Zhou Huan out of the hotel, covering nearly five kilometers. This pace almost matched a normal military training level. They covered the five kilometers in less than half an hour. Xiao He was clearly winded now, seemingly unable to run any further.

Zhou Huan, being a trained martial artist, treated a five-kilometer run as nothing. Xiao He had unintentionally ended up near Luoling Mountain again, and she slumped onto the steps before the mountain gate. She glanced back and saw Zhou Huan had caught up. Abandoning any thought of continuing to flee, she looked at Zhou Huan with waves of pure hatred.

“Xiao He, huff—stop running. You didn’t rest well last night either. Let’s just talk this out!” Zhou Huan reached her, breathing heavily as he spoke.

Xiao He completely ignored Zhou Huan, darting her head away the moment he looked at her. Her lips trembled as she managed to say, “What is there to talk about? What good is there in talking? The fact that you could chase me down proves there really is something between you two.”

“There is, but not like you imagine. You don’t know, if I hadn’t done what I did, I might have been burning incense for him today,” Zhou Huan blurted out his true intention in his haste.

At such a critical juncture, what woman could possibly listen to such an explanation? Xiao He was, after all, just an ordinary woman. Hearing Zhou Huan say that, she retorted, “Brother Huan, I respect you, I love you—that’s why I want to marry you. But what about you? Do you deserve me? I simply don’t believe that my Xiao He is inferior to that Yang Xiaoling!”

Seeing how Xiao He spoke, Zhou Huan felt a secret surge of relief. He understood this girl; his first sentence hadn't been wasted. Xiao He was proud and always wanted to compete when someone mentioned another woman.

“Yes, yes, our Xiao He is better than Miss Yang in every way. But you have to let me explain everything clearly. Our Xiao He isn't someone who gets knocked down easily, right?” Seeing Xiao He still unresponsive, Zhou Huan pressed on, “Furthermore, the current situation isn't resolved yet. We can’t afford to be delayed by these matters. If anything goes wrong with these things, I’m afraid we won't be able to operate anymore, and we might even lose our lives.”

“What? Who dares to claim our lives? I’m a police officer, and you’re a Grand Master of Shou Shi. Who could take our lives?” Xiao He was skeptical.

Zhou Huan pulled out the photograph he had retrieved from the restroom and held it out: “Look, who are all these people in this picture?”

Xiao He initially paid little attention to the photo, but when she saw the individuals captured within, she whipped her head around for a closer inspection. The people in the photograph shocked her to the core.

“Brother Huan, when was this taken?” At this moment, Xiao He seemed to have forgotten the emotional outburst; after all, Xiao He’s true nature was that of a workaholic.

Zhou Huan began to recount the incident in the corridor, and Xiao He’s focus shifted entirely to the photo. Suddenly, she noticed something: “Wait a minute, Brother Huan, look. Everyone who came with us on this trip, including Dongzi who arrived later, is in this picture. Why is Yang Xiaoling the only one missing?”

“Mmm, that’s what I wanted to ask too. Although I slept with her to save her, the appearance of this photo makes me feel very strange. However, what I felt from her was a genuine kindness. With the foundation of my two lives, I couldn’t sense any other aura from her whatsoever,” Zhou Huan explained.

Xiao He’s expression shifted again: “Have you gone soft in the head? What do you mean you saved her? Couldn't you save her any other way except by sleeping with her?”

“Have you forgotten the old Daoist from the mountain temple? He’s the one my old friend mentioned—his junior brother, although they only remained friends afterward. As it stands, none of us here are free from involvement in this matter. These police officers definitely have some secrets they’re hiding, otherwise, why would things line up so perfectly? At this moment, I’d rather trust a ghost than these people who act like specters,” Zhou Huan spoke his inner thoughts.

Xiao He’s brow furrowed, a hint of hesitation in her expression. She let out a long sigh: “Sigh, so how do you plan to treat Yang Xiaoling from now on?”

“That... you’ll be the primary, and she’ll be secondary!” Zhou Huan said casually.

Xiao He’s hand moved swiftly, grabbing Zhou Huan’s ear: “You’ve already arranged things! Listen carefully, there is only one Xiao He in the world who is foolish enough to be taken advantage of. I permit you two to continue, but you can never marry her. National law only permits you one marriage, and that bride must always be me.”

Zhou Huan was inwardly ecstatic that Xiao He had relented and tacitly accepted Yang Xiaoling’s presence. He then took Xiao He’s hand: “You accept her now, but there’s one condition. From this moment on, we need to diligently gather material on Yang Xiaoling. Because all signs indicate she is a key figure in this entire incident. I suspect that once Xiaoling’s entanglement is completely unraveled, this whole mess might just see the light of day.”

“Xiaoling? You’re calling her so intimately already? Hmph!” With that, Xiao He walked toward the park, swinging her hands behind her back unconsciously.

The sun had just shown half its face, and more people were coming up the mountain for their morning exercises. A significant number of them were carrying long weapons—blades, spears, swords, and halberds. It seemed the local populace truly enjoyed keeping fit.

The pair hadn't walked far into the park when a heavy smell of alcohol drifted toward them.

“Who is it?” Zhou Huan recognized the scent instantly. He pulled Xiao He along, following the aroma.

They slipped into a small grove of trees and saw the same frantic Daoist from before, holding a bottle of Erguotou, leaning against a large tree and snoring loudly.

“Daoist Master!” Zhou Huan squatted down and patted the Daoist’s face. But the moment he touched him, alcohol streamed from the old man’s mouth—the stench was so strong it was almost suffocating, forcing Zhou Huan to stumble back several steps.

“Brother Huan, why is this guy still drinking so much? And he calls himself a man of the cloth!” Xiao He muttered.

Zhou Huan started to pull Xiao He away, but then he heard the Daoist clearly speak: “Hey, kid, don’t think you can just leave! You think you can hit me and then run off? I knew you’d show up today; I must get revenge for that blow.”

No sooner had the old Daoist finished speaking than a sharp blue brick flew towards them.

Zhou Huan sidestepped smoothly, using the momentum to push the brick aside. It struck the tree with great force, knocking off a piece of bark from the century-old trunk.

“Oho, not bad with your hands,” the Daoist mumbled, swaying as he stood up. He shook the bottle he held, tilted his head back, and downed the remaining half-bottle of liquor.

Zhou Huan was still watching the Daoist drink when he felt a heavy punch land squarely on his chest, causing him to spit out a mouthful of black blood. He quickly shoved Xiao He aside, retreated two steps, and focused his vision. The old Daoist had materialized right in front of him without warning. Before he could react, he felt powerful forces striking his shoulders, arms, and legs sequentially. Zhou Huan repeatedly coughed up black blood, and the old Daoist’s final kick sent him flying backward, landing him in a heap after vomiting a large mouthful of crimson blood.

“Hahaha, Zhou Huan, you really can take a beating. Most people would have died instantly from a beating like that,” the Daoist looked at his empty bottle, then turned to Xiao He, “Sister-in-law, go buy this brother of mine a bottle of liquor.” The moment he finished speaking, his face dropped, and he flopped sideways onto the ground, his snores resuming thunderously.

Zhou Huan wiped his mouth and slowly got to his feet. He first checked on Xiao He: “Are you alright? Were you frightened?”

“Frightened of what? Now’s my chance to beat him up!” Xiao He made a move to strike the old Daoist, but Zhou Huan restrained her.

“Xiao He, he’s not a bad person. If he had wanted to kill us, neither of us would be alive right now. Did you see the black blood I spat out? I haven’t felt right since last night; this must have been the toxin from helping Miss Yang. Didn’t you notice he didn’t stop until I coughed up red blood?” Zhou Huan discerned the underlying pattern, then chuckled: “Truly a master. Xiao He, let’s go buy him some liquor.”

Just as the pair were about to leave, the old Daoist’s hand shot out and clamped onto Zhou Huan’s ankle: “Remember, Beijing Red Star Erguotou, and I want two bottles!” After speaking, the Daoist went limp, releasing his grip, and his snoring roared back to life like thunder.