"Then tell me, just who are you; and more importantly, who ordered you to follow me?" Zhang Yang looked directly at the man and asked, cutting straight to the chase. The man appeared to have given up resisting.

He lowered his head, and when he spoke again, his tone was filled with resignation. "The one who ordered me is—" Suddenly, the man snapped his head up.

A vicious glint flashed in his eyes, his expression turning savage as he roared, "Go to hell!" As he bellowed the words, the man shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bowstring, a gleaming dagger materializing in his hand from nowhere. It lunged straight for Zhang Yang's heart!

There had been about fifty paces between the man and Zhang Yang, but in that instant, he closed the distance almost instantaneously. His speed surged breathtakingly in a flash.

This speed was in no way inferior to that of a cultivator at the Great Perfection stage. More terrifyingly, before making his move, his aura was placid, and his energy fluctuations remained virtually unchanged.

Anyone would have assumed he had completely surrendered. This sneak attack was flawless!

Pfft! But even the most perfect ambush could not harm Zhang Yang!

As the dagger struck, Zhang Yang smoothly shifted aside, his speed matching the man's stride for stride! The man's attack relied entirely on feigning weakness first, then suddenly unleashing his true power in a lightning strike.

However, Zhang Yang was no ordinary cultivator. Though only at the mid-stage of the fourth level of Inner Strength, he had already achieved Great Perfection, and his current state of mind perfectly mirrored that of a late-stage fourth-level master.

Zhang Yang pushed the power of Great Perfection to its absolute limit. No matter what this man attempted, he could not escape Zhang Yang's perception!

Zhang Yang had begun evading a full second before the man made his move, ensuring the thrust went wide! The gulf in cultivation realms could not be bridged by mere tricks and sudden assaults, especially when the attacker was only at the late stage of the third level of Inner Strength.

Compared to a cultivator who had reached Great Perfection in the fourth level, such a maneuver was child's play! Thump!

Zhang Yang dodged the dagger. As the two men brushed past each other, a surge of heaven and earth energy instantly flooded the space between them.

Zhang Yang instinctively countered with a gentle push, channeling that energy into a massive force directed precisely at the man’s wrist. Clang!

The dagger fell to the ground with a sharp ring. Then, without hesitation, Zhang Yang delivered a kick infused with powerful Inner Strength directly into the man's abdomen!

A cultivator at the Great Perfection stage could command the energy of heaven and earth with every gesture. The gap between them was anything but negligible.

Zhang Yang's kick struck the man's stomach like a steel beam. Before the man could even register the pain in his wrist, he was sent flying backward like a kite cut from its string, crashing onto the ground!

All of this happened so fast it seemed as if the two had just met before one of them was suddenly hurled onto the floor. "Ah!!" The man crumpled on the ground, clutching his wrist and curling into a ball, writhing in agony.

He felt as though his wrist was not only broken but that his internal organs had been violently stabbed. He finally understood: he had grossly underestimated Zhang Yang!

Rumors had been circulating through the cultivation world that Zhang Yang was now the foremost figure. This could not be baseless gossip.

After this exchange, the man knew that Zhang Yang was truly a cultivator of the Great Perfection realm. To rely on a sneaky ambush against such an enemy was pure delusion!

"Cough, cough..." Forcing down the intense pain, the man struggled to stand, only to hack up another mouthful of blood. Damn it...

If I hadn't taken him lightly at the start, if I had used that move right away, perhaps the outcome wouldn't be like this... The man glared at Zhang Yang, his eyes burning with malice.

It was a shame; the internal injury had taken away his initiative. Even if he held a trump card, it would be useless now!

Zhang Yang took a step forward, looking down at the man struggling to rise, and asked, "Can you answer my questions now?" "Uncle!" At that moment, the little boy realized his uncle had been struck down by a stranger. He immediately stood up, forgetting his playmates, and rushed over, anxiously helping his uncle while looking up with deep concern.

The group of children playing with him, seeing someone vomit blood, were instantly terrified and bolted. In a flash, the children scattered, each running back to their own homes, unwilling to come out again.

"Huzi, stop fooling around! You need to leave now!" When the man saw the boy approaching, his expression shifted immediately, and he roared the command.

The little boy pursed his lips, his eyes welling up, but he refused to go. He looked at Zhang Yang, stepped in front of him, spread his small arms as wide as he could to shield his uncle, and shouted at Zhang Yang, "Don't you hurt my uncle!

You bad man!" Zhang Yang stared at the boy, rendered momentarily speechless. The child possessed no Inner Strength whatsoever—just an ordinary little boy.

The boy fixed Zhang Yang with a clear gaze, tears gathering in his eyes. Facing such an innocent child, a look of melancholy crossed Zhang Yang's face.

With the man shielded behind the boy, Zhang Yang feared accidentally harming the child, making it difficult for him to act immediately. Sharply sensing Zhang Yang's hesitation, the man let out a fierce yell, slamming both hands onto the ground.

With a sudden surge, he executed a perfect 'carp flip,' scrambling back to his feet. Without delay, he spun around, covered several large strides, and instantly darted toward the corner of the flat-roofed house.

He launched himself upward, vaulting onto the roof. Behind the house was a north-south running street, and at the far end of that street lay a bustling night market—an ideal escape route.

Once inside the market, with his disguise techniques, he might have a chance to shake off Zhang Yang! He glanced back at the little boy still standing guard in front of Zhang Yang and noticed with surprise that Zhang Yang hadn't given chase but was instead crouching down in front of the boy, seemingly asking him something.

The man was momentarily stunned, his feet, poised for flight, involuntarily paused. Gritting his teeth fiercely, he jumped back down from the roof.

"What is your name?" Zhang Yang hadn't pursued the man. He had waited until he was certain this was the man's residence before revealing himself, and the scene he witnessed earlier with the boy only solidified Zhang Yang's assumption.

Zhang Yang didn't need to chase him; if the man cared about the boy, he would return on his own accord. "My name is Qiao Hu." Facing Zhang Yang alone, the little boy's legs trembled involuntarily.

After answering, as if to bolster his own courage, he raised his voice and shouted at Zhang Yang, "Don't you hurt my uncle!" "That man is your uncle? Then what is his name?" Zhang Yang didn't press the boy further but asked gently, bit by bit.

"My uncle is named Qiao Yihong!" The boy sounded proud when mentioning his uncle but kept a wary eye on Zhang Yang. "Qiao Yihong?" Zhang Yang pondered.

He had never heard of such a master of concealment and disguise whose skills were so refined—"Let go of my Huzi!" At that moment, the man called Qiao Yihong had leaped down from the roof, staring at Zhang Yang, his face pale, and roared. Zhang Yang reached out, gently stroked the little boy's head, and then stood up.

"Uncle!" Hearing his uncle's call, the boy, Qiao Hu, turned and immediately ran over, throwing himself into Qiao Yihong's arms. "Huzi, be good, go home first!" Qiao Yihong patted Qiao Hu, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Unc..." Qiao Hu didn't want to leave, but when Qiao Yihong glared sternly, the boy reluctantly walked to the slightly ajar door of the flat-roofed house and peeked out, watching Zhang Yang secretly. "Even if you possess miraculous disguise techniques and the ability to conceal your aura, your home is here.

You cannot run away," Zhang Yang said, looking at Qiao Yihong. Qiao Yihong stared intently at Zhang Yang, saying nothing more.

It was his carelessness that allowed Zhang Yang to trace him here. Even if he could escape, Qiao Hu certainly could not.

Under the circumstances, he had no viable path to flee. Zhang Yang was willing to wait quietly for Qiao Yihong to speak only because he had witnessed Qiao Yihong sacrifice his chance to escape for the sake of the boy named Qiao Hu.

A man like that was not utterly depraved. Therefore, Zhang Yang was willing to give him a chance: as long as he confessed everything, Zhang Yang would leave him and the boy unharmed.

"Fine, I'll talk... I can surrender myself completely to you, but you must promise to let Qiao Hu go!" Qiao Yihong brooded for a long time before finally succumbing to the pressure Zhang Yang exerted and speaking.

Qiao Yihong knew he had no choice. In terms of strength, he was no match for Zhang Yang.

Apart from his Inner Strength cultivation method, which allowed him to perfectly conceal his aura, and his superb transformation skills, he had no leverage to negotiate. Zhang Yang did not answer.

Qiao Yihong took this as tacit agreement and continued, "The person who hired me to monitor you is Kim Hyun-shin from South Korea." "Kim Hyun-shin? Who is he?" Zhang Yang heard a completely unfamiliar name and immediately asked for clarification.

"Kim Hyun-shin is the South Korean team leader attending the Sino-Foreign Medical Exchange event in Changjing," Qiao Yihong explained. Another Sino-Foreign Medical Exchange event?

This was the third time he had heard of this event in the last few days, and each time, it had somehow become entangled with Inner Strength cultivators. "Why is he investigating me?" Zhang Yang asked, curious.

Qiao Yihong’s heart filled with bitterness. He slumped his shoulders and replied dejectedly, "Because you, Zhang Yang, are the heir to the Zhang family—the Medicine Saint, revered as the number one figure in the cultivation world."