The moon hung bright and clean, and what transpired in a village on the outskirts of Changjing, slated for demolition, was utterly incapable of disturbing the serenity of the capital's night. Not even the remaining villagers were roused; everything remained unchanged as if nothing had occurred, save for the old man clinging to the phone as if it were the dawn of hope.

For the past few days, Zhang Yang's life had been remarkably quiet, and even receiving a call from Qiao Yihong—alerting him that the Koreans were finally making a move—brought no surprise.

In Changjing, aside from Zhang Yang, there was also Zhang Pinglu, a Grand Perfection cultivator, lurking in the shadows. Unless the Korean counterpart was also a Grand Perfection cultivator, they stood no chance of stirring up any significant ripple to break Changjing’s peace.

This was precisely why Zhang Yang had only instructed Qiao Yihong to keep a covert watch near the Jingyang Sihua Hotel and to avoid rash action. As long as these Koreans behaved themselves quietly, Zhang Yang wouldn't mind them having a journey in Huaxia that was destined to be anything but pleasant.

But the continuous calm over several days had begun to surprise Zhang Yang. Even now, there was no movement whatsoever from the Japanese side, as if the loss of their national treasure, the demonic blade Muramasa, was a trivial matter. And everything on Qiao Yihong’s end remained normal too.

This very normalcy, however, meant something was profoundly abnormal.

Buzz, buzz…

It was tonight. Just as Zhang Yang and Mi Xue had settled into sleep, the phone on the bedside table suddenly vibrated insistently, humming repeatedly.

Mi Xue was fast asleep; the vibrating phone couldn't wake her, but its sound did not escape Zhang Yang's perception.

He slipped out of the bed with the utmost quietness, careful not to disturb Mi Xue's rest. Rising, he picked up the phone; the number displayed belonged to Qiao Yihong.

Zhang Yang had specially equipped Qiao Yihong with this phone specifically so he could notify Zhang Yang of any unusual activity from the Korean side with the quickest possible response time.

"Finally couldn't hold back and showing your true colors?"

Zhang Yang smiled faintly, murmuring to himself, then answered the call. However, there was no response from the other end.

After several calls of "Hello?", Qiao Yihong on the line offered no reply. Zhang Yang frowned, a sudden, distinctly bad feeling seizing him.

"Is... is this the police?"

Finally, just as Zhang Yang was about to lose his patience, an aged voice came through the receiver—a voice that was definitely not Qiao Yihong’s.

Zhang Yang’s eyes narrowed sharply. Holding the phone, he pushed open the bedroom door and stepped out.

"Hello, who is this? Why are you holding Qiao Yihong’s phone?"

Zhang Yang spoke into the phone while walking toward the living room.

"Po-police... po-police? I... I need to report to the police..."

On the other end, the old voice was intermittent, punctuated by sounds of coughing, exceedingly weak. The person seemed not to have understood Zhang Yang, continuously muttering about needing the police.

Qiao Yihong must have met with trouble. Zhang Yang immediately confirmed this suspicion. Otherwise, Qiao Yihong would never hand his phone over to just anyone.

Furthermore, from the quality of the man's voice, Zhang Yang could tell he was significantly injured, especially when the coughing suggested damage to his internal organs.

"What exactly happened? Don't strain yourself speaking, or you'll aggravate your injuries. First, tell me where you are, and I'll come rescue you right away!"

Zhang Yang’s expression grew anxious, but he dared not speak too loudly. The immediate priority was to ascertain the caller's location. Zhang Yang was confident that once he arrived, regardless of the severity of the injury, he would have a way to treat the person.

"Police... police... I need to report to the police..."

The line only repeated this one sentence, stubbornly unchanging no matter what Zhang Yang said.

"I am the police, sir. Whatever you need to say, you can tell me," Zhang Yang had a flash of inspiration, realizing this must be the result of the caller being severely injured and mentally disoriented. Following his words might prompt the old man to reveal his location.

"The police, really the police! Cough cough... Th-that's wonderful, I'm reporting, I'm reporting..."

The old voice on the line suddenly grew agitated, the coughing becoming louder and more frequent. Then, every word the speaker uttered seemed to demand immense effort. Zhang Yang remained silent, terrified of interrupting him.

"H-here, this is Zijing Village, cough cough... Someone broke into my house, cough cough... hurt me, hurt me, and stole my... cough cough..."

There was a sudden thud on the other end, and after that, Zhang Yang could only hear coughing from the phone, unable to make out anything else the man said.

Zijing Village!

Despite the fragmented information, Zhang Yang had obtained the crucial piece of news he most desperately needed!

"Lightning, Shadowless!"

Without the slightest hesitation, Zhang Yang quickly changed his clothes, grabbed the canvas bag hanging in the hall, shouted the command, and bolted out of the villa.

Outside the door, the pure white wind-chaser, Zhuifeng, who had long sensed Zhang Yang’s inner urgency, immediately rose and waited for him by the entrance.

Swish, swish!—Heiyin darted out with lightning speed, and the two little ones, Wuying and Shandian, hurried out of the villa, leaping onto Zhang Yang’s body!

"Zhuifeng, quickly to Zijing Village, outskirts of Changjing!"

Zhang Yang’s expression was grave, his voice stern. Zhuifeng showed no delay, immediately stamping its hooves and transforming into a gust of strong wind, tearing out of the villa courtyard.

Time was tight; Zhang Yang didn't even have time to notify Qu Meilan and Yan Liangfei!

Zhuifeng’s speed was as swift as lightning. It shared an unspoken bond with Zhang Yang, deeply understanding his current anxious state, thus running even a bit faster than usual.

Though the night was deepening, there were still sporadic vehicles traveling on the roads of Changjing. Zhuifeng, carrying Zhang Yang, became a rushing torrent of wind, leaving countless cars speeding under the night sky far behind.

Drivers in fast-moving cars with bright headlights would often catch sight of a dark shadow ahead, beginning to turn the wheel to avoid it, only to find the next instant that the path ahead was clear—the shadow had vanished.

Approaching the Zijin Mountain area, there was only one straight highway that had been recently completed. In the dead of night, not a single car was present here. In a short span, Zhuifeng’s form appeared at the end of the road, arriving at the entrance to the Zijin Mountain region.

Zhang Yang knew this area was currently under the development phase by the Changjing government; most nearby villages had already begun demolition. Zijing Village, the closest small settlement to Changjing, was among the last slated for development.

"Wuying!"

After Zhuifeng stopped, Zhang Yang immediately called out. The person on the phone had only mentioned Zijing Village, not a specific address. To find him, he needed Wuying's help.

Chirp chirp chirp!

Wuying hopped out of Zhang Yang’s canvas bag, sniffing the ground intensely. Soon, it found a direction and chirped loudly at Zhang Yang.

Wuying had interacted with Qiao Yihong; it could sense Qiao Yihong’s energy signature, so it immediately located the spot where Qiao Yihong had been hiding.

Then, Wuying ran ahead, leading the way for Zhang Yang and Zhuifeng.

It was the dead of night, and the village itself housed only a few families. Finding the old man who had used Qiao Yihong's phone would not be difficult.

When Zhang Yang reached the old man's yard, only a few minutes had passed since the old man had first called him.

The gate to the yard was wide open; half of the wooden door had been torn from its hinges—the signs of forced entry were unmistakable. Even before stepping into the courtyard, Zhang Yang could see the wreckage within.

Dismounting from Zhuifeng, Zhang Yang strode toward the corner of the house within the yard in just a few steps.

The dying old man, disoriented, was slumped on the ground, yet he still clutched the phone tightly, muttering in an extremely faint voice.

"Police... report... save Dahei..."

That phone was the very one Zhang Yang had given to Qiao Yihong!

Moving the debris off the old man, Zhang Yang squatted down, his brow furrowed deeply, and immediately checked the elder's body!

The old man’s physical condition was far from encouraging!

Already advanced in age with brittle bones, he had clearly suffered a massive impact, resulting in several broken ribs across his chest, along with significant internal organ damage. It was easy to surmise that had Zhang Yang arrived even a little later, the old man would surely have perished from the unbearable agony.

Without further hesitation, Zhang Yang gently lifted the old man and placed him on a relatively flat spot within the yard. He opened the canvas bag, pulled out silver needles, and swiftly inserted them into several vital acupuncture points!

A faint white mist slowly rose from Zhang Yang’s body, traveling along the silver needles into the old man’s system. Zhang Yang kept his gaze tight, focusing entirely on manipulating the needles embedded in the man.

The old man's painful coughing gradually subsided, and soon his groans of suffering turned into even, steady breathing. Zhang Yang used the silver needles to first stabilize the displaced internal organs and then used his internal energy to fix the broken bones, minimizing the man's pain to the greatest extent possible.

However, this was only a temporary relief from the pain. The old man’s most crucial need now was professional treatment at a hospital.

But Zhang Yang had other means. His canvas bag contained many medicinal pills he had prepared beforehand—pills he had hastily refined during his planned internship at Jinghe Hospital for emergency use. Administering these pills would at least ensure that the old man’s injuries would not worsen in the immediate future, minimizing any lasting impact even if they had to wait longer to get him to a hospital.

Squeak squeak squeak!

Shandian circled the yard, sniffing around everywhere, and then its expression changed drastically. It began to squeak frantically at Zhang Yang.

"What, you mean a Level Four spirit beast was here?"

Hearing Shandian’s cries, Zhang Yang was greatly startled.