Volume One Chapter Thirty The Old Immortal.

After bidding farewell to Su Yike and Jiang Ning, Jiang Chen hurried home as fast as he could. But when he arrived downstairs, he found the main gate already locked. A glance at the time told him it was well past midnight. Left with no choice, Jiang Chen climbed over the wall. Yet, when he tried the door handle, it too was locked.

He slumped onto a small bench nearby, sitting there for about five minutes. He realized he couldn't just wait out the night like this. Though he could bear the chill, what did it look like for the master of the house to spend the night outside? Squatting down, he pulled a small piece of wire from his clothes and, recalling the structure of the lock’s cylinder, twisted the wire into the shape of a key.

With a creak, the lock yielded. Humming softly, Jiang Chen entered, went upstairs, and opened the door. He found Ning Rou already asleep, though her sleep was restless—she tossed and turned, likely plagued by nightmares.

After his shower, Jiang Chen prepared to return to his own room, but at his door he paused. He tried the handle; it was locked as well.

“Heh, darling, you can’t blame me for this—it’s you who locked the door,” Jiang Chen whispered, tiptoeing into Ning Rou’s room.

He was just about to climb into bed and wrap his arms around the beauty when Ning Rou’s voice nearly scared him out the door.

“Sleep on the floor. I’ve already set up your bedding,” she said, her back to Jiang Chen, her pale back exposed. Her voice was muffled; she must have been crying.

Jiang Chen eyed his well-prepared bedding and resigned himself to the fact that his plan to share a bed had failed. President Ning certainly had her tricks—she had him completely under her thumb.

“Can I sleep on the bed? The floor’s too cold, I might catch a cold,” Jiang Chen ventured, sitting at the edge of the bed.

As long as President Ning agreed—or even stayed silent—he’d climb right in. That was Jiang Chen’s plan.

Ning Rou gritted her teeth. “If you don’t want to sleep, then go downstairs to the sofa. Otherwise, just shut up!”

Jiang Chen sighed. He knew that sharing a bed was a distant dream—he’d have to prove himself for a while before that was possible. Women had long memories when it came to matters of the heart; even a small slight could be remembered for ages.

Lying on the floor, Jiang Chen closed his eyes. After a while, Ning Rou’s heart softened when she heard no movement. “Um… If you feel cold down there, you can come up,” she murmured.

But after calling for a while with no response, Ning Rou turned to look and found Jiang Chen already asleep, sprawled in the ugliest of positions.

“Hmph, looks like even the bed can’t tempt you. Then just keep sleeping on the floor!”

...

In the chairman’s office of the Ye Consortium, Ye Qiang, the patriarch, sat on a chair carved from rare nanmu wood, reviewing the income statements for the first three quarters.

Bang—

The door was flung open as Ye Qingfeng burst in. Ye Qiang shot to his feet. “How many times have I told you? Stop being so reckless—face things calmly. Do you want to be like your younger brother? You’re the heir to the Ye family fortune; this kind of behavior is unbecoming!”

But Ye Qingfeng had no time for such lectures. Clutching his waist, he said, “Father, something terrible has happened.”

Ye Qiang replied, “What could possibly have happened? Even if it’s bad, how bad could it be? Did your brother cause trouble again?”

Ye Qingfeng took a breath. “Worse than that. Ye Qingming… is dead.”

Ye Qiang’s hand trembled, dropping the teapot to shatter on the floor.

“Impossible. I specifically arranged for a master of the Breathing Realm to protect him. Even if he encountered trouble, he should have been able to escape unharmed. This can’t be!”

No one wants to believe their own son could die. Ye Qingming, the young master of the Ye Group, had been doted on since childhood. At home, aside from Ye Qiang himself, no one dared to raise their voice to Ye Qingming. How could such a person simply die?

Grief twisted Ye Qiang’s expression into a mask of darkness. “Have you found out the truth? Who killed Qingming?”

He had received the news early that morning and immediately launched an investigation, so he knew exactly what had happened.

Ye Qingfeng’s lips trembled. “It was someone named Jiang Chen. As for the rest… nothing. His records are mysterious—only a single ID card on file, nothing else.”

“Nothing else?! Your brother was killed, and now you tell me you know nothing?!” Ye Qiang strode up to Ye Qingfeng, his fury exploding as he slapped him hard across the face.

“Remember this: as long as I’m alive, you’ll never get your hands on the family fortune. Now go—find out everything! If you can’t, go stay out of town!” Ye Qiang pushed open the door and stormed out.

Ye Qingfeng rubbed his cheek, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He left the Ye Consortium and got into his car, where a man in a cloak sat waiting in the back seat.

“How is the Gu refinement going? When will it be ready?” Ye Qingfeng dropped his usual smile and asked.

The man replied respectfully, “Young Master Ye, it still needs the lives of five more cultivators to be complete.”

Ye Qingfeng nodded slightly. “Are you sure this parasite can temporarily boost my strength to the Vajra Realm?”

Without hesitation, the man answered, “As long as the quality of the sacrificial cultivators is high enough, reaching the Vajra Realm won’t be a problem.”

Ye Qingfeng nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. “Good, I can’t wait any longer. The old man is growing frantic—just as well, I can’t wait to send him off.”

“As soon as the time comes and I take control of the consortium, you’ll be my assistant. Then, all the resources of Qingcheng will be at your disposal. I’ll do everything I can to help you become the number one Gu master.” Ye Qingfeng was already basking in the certainty of his coming power.

The cloak hid the man’s face, but he knew what was expected. “To serve Young Master Ye is my honor.”

Ye Qingfeng knew better than to trust in loyalty—people were driven by self-interest. He only sought the Gu master as an ally. As for loyalty, he didn’t care; if someone wanted nothing, there was no way to control them. Fortunately, this Gu master had many desires and was highly useful.

He picked up his phone and dialed. On the other end, frantic pleas for mercy echoed.

“Young Master Ye, please, spare us! We really don’t know who Jiang Chen is!” On the other end, Ma Minglong was suspended, his body battered and bruised.

Beside him, Zhou Hua had already died, lying motionless on the floor.

Ye Qingfeng lit a cigarette. “Still got the strength to talk? Since there’s nothing to be learned, deal with them—make sure it’s clean, leave no trace.”

With a cold reply, the video call ended.

“Jiang Chen, oh Jiang Chen, you really shouldn’t have crossed me. Killing that useless Ye Qingming was one thing—but you even dared lay hands on my woman.”