He Yuzhu returns in Siheyuan

Wang Ran composed himself, wiped his sweat, turned to the young people of the third team, and called out, "Rest here for now, recover your spiritual energy, and conserve your strength. Once you've scouted the area inside, then we'll go all out. Remember, your target is the Dragon Clan. As long as you capture the Dragon Clan and obtain the Dragon Pearl, the mission will be complete, and the positions of true disciples will be waiting for you. You can choose any resources from the various sects!"

Although the young people were somewhat dissatisfied, feeling that this was a waste of time, they also knew that the old man's words made sense. Reluctantly, they sheathed their swords, sat down cross-legged, and began to regulate their breathing. After all, the days of traveling and waiting had indeed depleted their spiritual energy. If they forced their way in now, they feared they would not gain anything, and if the demon race took advantage of them, it would be a loss for them.

Wang Ran walked up to a man dressed in coarse cloth and shorts. The man looked unremarkable, with dark skin and calloused hands; he blended into the crowd like a kitchen helper. But only Wang Ran knew that he was the bodyguard he had hired for three thousand high-grade spirit stones, his strength unfathomable. Last time, when a rogue cultivator in the Nascent Soul stage came looking for trouble, this man had shattered the man's dantian with a single slap, and afterwards acted as if nothing had happened, his aura completely unaffected, as if he had merely swatted a mosquito. He had been concealing his abilities these past few days, so everyone else thought he was just an ordinary guard, and no one had given him a second glance.

“Go there.” Wang Ran lowered his voice, almost whispering in his ear, “Go into the forest and find the leader of the demon race. Remember, don’t fight. Just say you have something important to discuss and want to make a deal with them—exchange ten cartloads of pills for information about the dragon race. Whatever they want, as long as it’s not excessive, we can negotiate.”

The man nodded without a word, then turned and walked towards the forest. His steps were slow, yet possessed a strange rhythm, as if each step was on the cusp of the wind. His figure appeared and disappeared in the mist, vanishing quickly. The sect disciples who had been waiting to see the spectacle were still gossiping about how daring this "errand boy" was to venture into the demon forest alone. No one knew that this seemingly ordinary man's true cultivation had already reached the Nascent Soul stage, making him several times stronger than the purple-robed and black-robed cultivators combined. To mistake him for an ordinary person would mean facing certain death without even knowing what was happening.

Wang Ran watched his figure disappear into the mist, feeling a slight sense of peace. Her fingertips unconsciously caressed the jade pendant at her waist, a life-saving magical artifact. She hoped this time, things would be different, and she wouldn't disappoint him again. The mountain valley fell silent, save for the sound of the wind rustling through the tent and the faint, distant howls of demons, like an invisible net tightening ever more.

The middle-aged man was named Zhang Lei, and he had once been the sect leader of the Qingyun Sect. Back then, his cultivation at the late Golden Core stage was considered outstanding among his peers. Although the sect wasn't top-tier, it was still very prosperous, with disciples spread across three states. Unfortunately, in a moment of impulsiveness, while protecting the sect's mines, he clashed with the top cultivation expert, "Xuan Shui Dao Ren." The sect was razed to the ground overnight, and almost all of his disciples were killed or wounded. He managed to escape with his life thanks to the sect's secret treasure, the "Shadow Escape Talisman," but he became a fugitive, losing most of his cultivation. In the end, he could only submit to Wang Ran, relying on his remaining strength and old connections to make a living under Wang Ran's command.

Standing at the edge of the mist, he suddenly flicked his sleeve, his spiritual energy surging like a tide, transforming into a streak of azure light that pierced through the thick fog and plunged straight in. Where the azure light passed, layers of mist were sliced ​​open as if by a sharp blade, revealing a dark path through the forest. He landed steadily on a ravaged clearing, his gaze sharp as lightning, sweeping over the demons locked in battle—a flicking-tongued flower snake demon, a black bear monster brandishing its claws, and a group of sharp-nosed, monkey-faced mountain demons howling nearby. Soon, he locked onto the black-faced monkey demon wielding an iron club.

This monkey demon was about the same height as a human, with a face covered in black fur, except for a crescent-shaped white hair on its forehead. It carried an iron rod as thick as a bowl, likely forged from thousand-year-old black iron. In the outer reaches of this misty forest, it was the strongest, having reached the early stage of demon core cultivation. It was also the most agile, adept at seeking advantage and avoiding harm, and usually relied on a group of monkey followers to keep the forest in constant turmoil.

As for the tiger demon with piercing eyes and a white forehead not far away, although it possessed immense strength and a body powerful enough to withstand even low-grade magic weapons, it was a truly stubborn creature. Its daily routine consisted of hunting and sleeping soundly in its cave; even if the sky were to fall, it would only instinctively pounce and tear at anything. Trying to reason with it? It was a complete waste of energy.

Zhang Lei moved with lightning speed, landing behind the monkey demon like a ghost. His voice, tinged with the arrogance of someone accustomed to a superior position, was cold and hard as iron: "Stop fighting, Lord Wang Ran has given the order."

The monkey demon, caught up in the excitement of its attack, was slamming the human cultivator to the ground with its club, causing him to cough up blood. Hearing this, it abruptly turned around, its crimson eyes wide with fury. Seeing that the human cultivator was an unfamiliar figure, whose spiritual power, though not weak, was far from enough to intimidate it, the demon glared angrily, baring its sharp fangs: "Where did this rogue cultivator come from, daring to interfere in your monkey king's affairs? You're courting death!" With that, it swung its iron club, sending a whistling wind through the air, aiming for Zhang Lei's face.

A cold glint flashed in Zhang Lei's eyes, and he scoffed disdainfully. With a flick of his finger, a condensed, silken strand of spiritual energy shot through the air, swift as lightning, and struck the monkey demon's iron staff with pinpoint accuracy. A crisp clang rang out, the sound of metal clashing against metal causing the surrounding lesser demons to cover their ears. The monkey demon felt an immense force surge through the iron staff, numbing its arms and nearly causing the staff to slip from its grasp. A bloody gash appeared on its tiger's mouth, blood dripping down its black fur.

The monkey demon squatted on a thick branch of the crooked old peach tree, its bushy tail swaying gently around the trunk, causing a few withered leaves to fall in a rustling sound. Its round, black eyes darted around, revealing a cleverness in its eyes and brows, as if it had already thoroughly sized up the newcomer.

He glanced sideways at Zhang Lei, who was standing under the tree, a half-smile playing on his lips. His high-pitched voice carried a cunning characteristic of mountain spirits: "Hey young man, we're complete strangers. Dressed in such a smart outfit, you've come all the way to my Flower Fruit Mountain. You can't be just bored and want to keep this monkey company while he enjoys the scenery, can you?" As he spoke, he scratched his hairy chin, then abruptly changed the subject, "So, what brings you here? It's not about the Dragon Clan again, is it? The last few groups of people who came all had eyes as bright as wolves, and they were all plotting something, trying to use me as a pawn."

Zhang Lei stood under the tree, his tight-fitting black outfit accentuating his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and exceptionally upright posture. His face was expressionless, his jawline taut, as if he didn't care about the monkey demon's teasing at all, only looking down at the crushed pebbles at his feet.