Two in the afternoon... Zhongnanhai has always been hailed as the symbol of the supreme echelon of the Huaxia Nation's governing body. The name Zhongnanhai is derived from the combination of Zhonghai and Nanhai, and since the founding of the Huaxia Nation, it has always represented the pinnacle of power. Furthermore, various series have introduced Zhongnanhai, touching upon subjects like the Zhongnanhai Bodyguards, Zhongnanhai's history and culture, and so on. Undeniably, this is the seat of the Huaxia Nation's highest authority. And even now, within an ancient manor in this very compound, two middle-aged men remained outwardly composed, yet a thread of worry was discernible between their brows. After all, the current situation in the capital demanded their grave concern. Matters were escalating, and the grim reports of surrounding homicides were utterly devastating. Simultaneously, the intelligence flooding in from all quarters was nearly deafening them.

“Old Qin, that young man surnamed Yang is truly something,” Wen Long remarked, taking a slow sip of his tea. “He almost managed to keep even us in the dark.”

Qin Feng lifted his teacup, blew across the surface, “Old Wen, don't you think we’re a bit unconventional? It’s this sweltering heat, and yet we’re drinking hot tea, when others would be crunching ice or downing cold wine.”

“Unconventional?” Wen Long sensed an underlying meaning in Qin Feng’s words and asked with a hint of confusion, “Old Qin, what are you trying to imply?”

“People are much like tea, you see. As the saying goes, ren zou cha liang (people leave, tea grows cold); ren zai cha re (while people are present, the tea is hot). That boy is pushing himself so hard right now, undoubtedly aiming to bring order to the chaos that is the underworld. Shouldn't you perhaps ease up a little?” Qin Feng felt a wave of helplessness. He, who had spent years acting as a lobbyist for foreign entities, now found himself lobbying for Yang Yi—a truly bizarre turn of events.

“Old Qin, you know as well as I do. For those who pose a threat to us, don't even dream that you or I would let him off easily; what about the subordinates below us? And conversely, would he let me off?” Wen Long firmly believed that only in the absence of absolute threats could he govern with peace of mind—a necessary consideration for any paramount leader.

It must be said that this principle mirrors the military maxim: power that eclipses one’s sovereign is the greatest taboo. If Yang Yi were to defeat Ye Han, he would undoubtedly be considered a great hero of the Huaxia Nation. However, the sheer magnitude of a hero’s power can inevitably overshadow the ruler. Recalling ancient times, Liu Bang was precisely in this predicament, leading him to execute Han Xin. If only Han Xin had remained purely devoted to his sovereign, without a trace of ambition, would he have met such an end?

Of course, the historical context above does not perfectly encapsulate the present situation, but Wen Long harbors the same psychological dilemma as Liu Bang of old.

“Old Wen, consider this: If he possessed Ye Han’s ambition, would he be fighting Ye Han to the death at this very moment?”

“This!” Wen Long had indeed pondered this question, yet he still hadn't reached a conclusion. He then asked Qin Feng, “Old Qin, it seems you’ve come here today to plead his case?”

“Alas, I am lobbying for the good of Huaxia,” Qin Feng replied. “If that boy defeats Ye Han, he will undoubtedly become the darling of the masses. If he harbors no personal ambition, he will then dedicate himself entirely to managing the underworld. My initial thought was to have our two factions reach a consensus for cooperation, establishing a foothold within Huaxia. This would resolve a great deal of trouble.”

“Impossible!”

“Well, I thought so,” Qin Feng sighed. “You stand firm at this juncture and refuse to yield. But have you considered how other nations would view the situation if you were to eliminate Yang Yi? Moreover, Japan, Britain, and the United States—these major powers all have the influence of the Black God Gang. Tell me, how severe would the repercussions be?”

“Alas, Old Qin, this very issue is what troubles me,” Wen Long admitted, shaking his head heavily.

“I actually have a solution that can both stabilize the situation and bring you peace of mind!”

“Oh? What is it?” Wen Long immediately pressed upon hearing this.

“Negotiated peace! Then you can simply—”

Just as Wen Long and Qin Feng were deep in discussion, a sleek, black sedan sped towards Zhongnanhai. Fifteen minutes later, the car arrived at the main gate. The youth inside made a single call: “Old man, I’ve arrived.” With just those words, the black sedan was swiftly ushered into the Zhongnanhai compound moments later.

“Zhongnanhai Bodyguards?” The youth inside the car smirked as he surveyed the rigid line of imposing men in black standing guard at the entrance.

“Dragon Lord, you have arrived,” Long Yi stated with utmost caution.

“Good!” Yang Yi acknowledged and stepped out of the vehicle with Xiu’er.

Moments later, he spotted Qin Feng’s figure approaching him. Qin Feng smiled, “You finally came!”

“What? Are you surprised?” Yang Yi returned the greeting with a slight smile.

“Please, come inside!” Qin Feng showed no offense at Yang Yi’s casual tone, finding it rather amusing, and gestured them in.

For a Deputy Premier to be so polite was truly astonishing, and the Zhongnanhai Bodyguards lined up outside shared this sentiment. Yet, only a flicker of surprise registered in their eyes; there was no other visible reaction. This restraint surprised Yang Yi somewhat. The Zhongnanhai Bodyguards truly lived up to their name, rigorously trained and masters of countless lethal arts. To entrust the protection of the leadership to such disciplined individuals was indeed a testament to security.

Yang Yi, Xiu’er, and Long Yi followed Qin Feng into a reception hall. Sitting there, the only person awaiting them was one of the middle-aged men, his expression solemn, possessing an air that hinted at profound wisdom, almost Daoist in its bearing. An unmistakable aura—the very presence one accrues from long tenure at the apex of power—emanated from him.

“Haha, come, let me introduce you!” Qin Feng gestured toward Yang Yi. “This is Yang Yi. And this,” he nodded toward the seated man, “is our Chief, Wen Long, Chief Wen!”

“A pleasure to meet you!” The two men shook hands.

Wen Long greeted Yang Yi with the standard demeanor he reserved for guests, showing no particular reaction. Yang Yi, in turn, remained utterly composed, without a hint of affectation. He understood that individuals who have occupied a position of supreme authority for so long are often seasoned strategists—playing small tricks would constitute an obvious blunder.

“Let’s begin then,” Wen Long stated plainly. He knew the purpose of Yang Yi’s visit. Everyone present was intelligent and would not waste time on pleasantries; the outcome of the discussion was paramount.

Meanwhile, over at Peking University, Ye Han was surprisingly attending classes as usual, a third-year student. After class, a young man approached him discreetly. “Young Master, Yang Yi has left.”

“Hm? Where did he go?” Ye Han frowned deeply upon hearing this.

“He appears to be heading towards Zhongnanhai.”

“Zhongnanhai?” Ye Han’s brow furrowed even more sharply. A cold sneer suddenly crossed his lips. “Is he attempting to collaborate with the state? Ha! What a ludicrous fancy.”

“Young Master!” At that moment, another young man rushed over, his expression panicked. “Young Master, we have grave news.”

“What is it?”

“A message came from the clan: The Tenth Elder of the Heavenly Ghost lineage has been captured by members of the Heavenly Dragon lineage!”

“What?” Ye Han’s face contorted in shock. Ignoring the presence of others around him, he bellowed, “What in the world is going on? Why were the Elders captured?”

“According to the report, they were captured with the combined force of the Tenth Elder of the Heavenly Dragon lineage, the newly appointed Clan Master, the former Clan Master, and one additional master!”

“What is the current battlefield situation?”

“The clan is in turmoil right now, and the Heavenly Dragon lineage has dispatched forces to attack our branch. The clansmen are demanding that the Young Master return to stabilize the situation!” The messenger gasped for breath, feeling his respiration become increasingly labored. Gazing at Ye Han’s ashen face, one could almost hear his own heartbeat.

Ye Han remained silent, closing his eyes to take a deep, centering breath, seemingly attempting to buffer the profound unease seizing him. “We return first, then we address this!”

“Yes!” The men followed Ye Han as he left.

“Hmm?”

“What’s wrong, Second Brother?” Ye Xiao-hou asked, noticing Lin Fatty’s contemplative silence.

“Ye Han has left the school grounds.”

Hearing this, Ye Xiao-hou quickly glanced toward the school gate, spotting Ye Han leading a few people away. A jolt went through him. “We need to call the Boss immediately!”

“Right!” Lin Fatty nodded in agreement.

Simultaneously, on the other side, the discussion in Zhongnanhai appeared to have concluded, and Yang Yi was walking towards his waiting vehicle.

“Yang Yi!”

Hearing Qin Feng’s voice, Yang Yi turned back to see the Deputy Premier hurrying after him. “Is there something else, Deputy Premier Qin?”

“Are you truly going through with this?” Qin Feng still seemed unable to fully accept the situation.

Yang Yi smiled faintly. “Rest assured, once this matter is concluded, I will know what steps to take. Moreover, I expect you all to uphold your end of the bargain, otherwise… hehe, I rather enjoy making threats!”

“You can be assured of that. I cannot vouch for other matters, but I will absolutely ensure this one is handled for you!”

“With your word, I am reassured. Then, we shall meet no more,” Yang Yi said, opening the door for Long Yi to help him inside the car.

Qin Feng watched Yang Yi’s vehicle slowly pull away from Zhongnanhai, a wry smile touching his lips. “Old Yang, Old Yang, he has reached a realm you never attained. How unpredictable are the affairs of men!”

The moment Yang Yi’s car cleared the Zhongnanhai gate, his phone rang. He answered, listened briefly, and then hung up. His expression grew distinctly strange. He turned to Long Yi in the driver's seat. “Long Yi, drive faster! Things are about to begin!”

“Yes!”

Xiu’er, sitting beside him, noticed Yang Yi’s peculiar smile and asked, “Husband, did something happen?”