Ye Chen, you've actually delivered yourself right to my doorstep.

This surge of karmic luck was several degrees stronger than when Wang Hao had seen him the second time!

Even if you disguised your face, even if you wore the most tattered long gown, even if your own mother wouldn't recognize you today—

This unique Qi-gazing technique bestowed by the system could not be fooled!

The corners of Wang Hao's downturned mouth curled upward uncontrollably, forming a very faint smile that was cold to the bone.

He picked up a cup of tea just served by a servant nearby, gently blew on the foam, and his inner monologue surged wildly like boiling magma:

[Good! Very good! Good on you, Ye Chen! Good on you, Child of Destiny! I haven't even gone looking for you, yet you delivered yourself to my doorstep again!]

[The last time I besieged you, I personally stripped away a portion of your luck and severed your fortuitous encounters, making you flee like a dead dog. I thought you would either hide in some deep mountain and old forest to lick your wounds, or go look for your backer for protection.]

[I never expected that in such a short time, not only has your luck miraculously recovered, but you've also grown stronger. And you actually dare to swagger right under my nose again!]

Wang Hao sneered repeatedly in his heart. It was the disdain of a superior looking at a trapped beast fighting to the death.

[As expected of the Child of Destiny favored by the Heavenly Dao, this protagonist halo is incredibly tough. This stubborn life is just like a stone in a latrine—smelly and hard, impossible to smash!]

[You disguised yourself into this wretched state, lurking like a rat in the gutter inside the mercenary guild I opened... What do you want? What are you trying to do?! I can figure it out with my toes; you're coming after me! You want to use the guild's intelligence network, or take the opportunity to infiltrate an important position in the capital, waiting for a chance to assassinate me again, right?]

Wang Hao rested the teacup against his lips but did not drink. He took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the mad killing intent in his chest.

When he raised his eyes again, on the surface, he had already restored the appearance of a calm and elegant young master. It was as if that soul-piercing glance just now was truly just a casual moment of absentmindedness.

He slowly shifted his gaze, looking at Wei Zhongxian beside him, who was still feeling smug about the thirty percent cut.

Wang Hao's tone was as flat as if he were asking what dishes the imperial kitchen prepared for tonight, speaking without any ripples:

"Old Wei, take a look at that."

Wang Hao pointed with an almost imperceptible motion of his chin toward the pillar in the southwest corner: "That man wearing a half-worn green shirt, holding a cup of coarse tea. Who is he?"

Wei Zhongxian was still rejoicing when he was suddenly called out. He quickly looked in the direction Wang Hao indicated.

The old eunuch narrowed his old eyes, looking the man in the green shirt up and down several times. Seeing the man's shabby dress and submissive posture, Wei Zhongxian curled his lip, a flash of disdain in his eyes, and shook his head as he replied:

"To answer the young master, he looks very unfamiliar to this humble servant. With this attire and bearing, he absolutely cannot be any registered martial arts leader. In my view, he's eighty percent likely to be a drifter who just came from some remote backwater to make a living in the capital, hoping to try his luck at the guild and scrape together a meal. If the young master finds him an eyesore, I will have someone throw him out right away."

"Oh? Is that so?" Wang Hao raised an eyebrow noncommittally.

Yu Huatian, who had not spoken all this time, suddenly took a small half-step forward. On his frosty face, his brows slightly furrowed. The vicious gaze of the West Factory's Director clearly saw something Wei Zhongxian couldn't.

"Young Master, this person is not simple." Yu Huatian's voice was kept very low, but it revealed a solemnity as if facing a formidable enemy. "On the surface, he looks like an ordinary person who knows no martial arts, but your subordinate observes that his breathing is extremely long and continuous. This is a manifestation of inner martial arts practiced to the extreme, hiding his aura very deeply."

Yu Huatian paused, his gaze sweeping like lightning across the crowd around the green-shirted man, his voice growing even colder. "Not only that, Young Master, please look beside him. The fat man selling candied haws to his front left, the blind old man reading the notice board to his back right, the beggar pretending to tie his shoelaces at the door, and the servant wiping the railing at the second-floor staircase."

"These four people seem to have no interaction, but they actually faintly occupy the four positions of the gates of life, protecting the green-shirted man in the center. If your subordinate is not mistaken, these four are all top experts!"

Hearing Yu Huatian's words, Pei Jingzhe did not hesitate in the slightest.

Click—

An extremely subtle, crisp sound.

That was the sound of Pei Jingzhe's thumb forcefully pushing open the crossguard of his short sword.

His entire person instantly became like a fully drawn iron bow, his muscles tense to the extreme. He didn't even look at the green-shirted man; his body already leaned forward slightly, blocking Wang Hao's side in a posture of absolute protection, his emotionless dead-fish eyes locked onto that direction. As long as that person dared to make the slightest move, Pei Jingzhe would draw his blade and draw blood.

Sun Li, on the side, frowned upon hearing Yu Huatian's analysis.

Cold sweat instantly soaked Wei Zhongxian's inner garments, and his mind went blank. Damn it, he had been so focused on flattering that he forgot even the most basic vigilance. But that old thing Sun Li was about to go into seclusion to break through his realm; at that time, the Directorate of Ceremonial would be leaderless. He really wanted to advance his career too much, but the opportunity to render meritorious service was also right in front of his eyes.

Four first-rate expert guards? Inner martial arts practiced to the extreme?

A person whom the Emperor could specifically point out at a glance among hundreds of people was absolutely no pushover! This was eighty percent likely to be the leader of some rebel faction coming to assassinate His Majesty!

It had to be said that Wei Zhongxian's intuition was very accurate.

Watching the reactions of his subordinates, a trace of appreciation flashed in Wang Hao's eyes. Yu Huatian's judgment was indeed vicious; he was truly worthy of being the vicious hound of the West Factory that he had personally promoted.

But he did not order an arrest.

Wang Hao just gently picked up the cup of tea and took a leisurely sip. The warm tea flowed down his throat, but it could not melt the bone-chilling glacier in his eyes.

He laughed in his heart, laughing very joyfully, and also very ferociously:

[Ye Chen, oh Ye Chen, this is what they call: there is a path to heaven but you refuse to take it, there is no door to hell but you barge right in.]

[I was just worrying about being too busy with state affairs to have the time to hunt down a rat like you all over the world. But you, finding your life too long, packaged yourself up and delivered yourself to my door.]

[Since that's the case... then don't blame me for preparing the biggest iron pot for you right here in the bustling market of the southern city, and stewing you and your proud trump cards, skin and bones included, all in one pot!]

Wang Hao put down the teacup, snapped his folding fan open with a swish, covering half of his face, revealing only a pair of eyes that seemed to be smiling but were not:

"Don't be in a hurry to make a move. Jingzhe, put your blade away. Yu Huatian, tell your people not to act rashly either."

"Since we have a new guest, as the hosts, we must... entertain them properly, shouldn't we?"

On the surface, Ye Chen appeared to be engrossed in reading the notice board with a leisurely posture, but in reality, a layer of cold sweat had already seeped from his back, and his whole body's muscles were tense like a fully drawn bow.

For this very day, he had paid a price beyond ordinary imagination. He had scoured the martial underworld's black markets, spending a fortune to purchase the "Thousand Faces" disguise elixir. He had endured the agonizing, bone-scraping pain of altering his features, all to evade the rabid hounds of the Brocade Guards and the Eastern Depot.

At the thought of that failed assassination attempt a month ago, Ye Chen's facial features twisted slightly beneath his disguise.

He hated! He hated so much that his heart bled!

On that day, he had thought his plan was foolproof, yet the emperor had managed to dodge it. He was then surrounded and hunted down by that deeply scheming little emperor's men. Not only did he nearly lose his life and his cultivation base, but even more terrifyingly, he felt that something profoundly important in the unseen realm—his karmic luck—had been forcibly stripped away!

During his half-month of recovery, he had lived like a rat in a gutter. Had he not been destined for greater things, stumbling upon an ancient secret cultivation method by sheer serendipity while on the brink of death, he would not have been able to forcefully stabilize his injuries and restore his luck. Otherwise, he would have long since become a pile of dry bones in a mass grave. The moment he fully recovered, he impatiently infiltrated the capital, swearing to avenge this sea of blood!

"Big Brother." Beside him, a fiercely built man dressed as a traveling merchant, yet possessing the eyes of a starving wolf, tilted his head slightly. His lips barely moved as he whispered using an extremely proficient telepathic sound transmission technique. "The capital is on high alert right now, with hidden agents of the Brocade Guards everywhere. That emperor is holed up deep within the imperial palace. Striking now would be like striking a stone with an egg. Should we proceed with the original plan, first recruiting some desperate outlaws in this so-called Guild, and wait until we have enough manpower before finding an opportunity to enter the palace?"

Ye Chen gave a subtle nod and picked up his teacup, pretending to take a sip as a ruthless glint flashed in the depths of his eyes.

He roared madly in his heart: Wang Hao, you little brat! It was purely your good luck that allowed you to escape last time! This time, I will definitely skin you alive and pull out your tendons! Once I recruit enough men and horses in this guild to form a private army, I will absolutely topple your Great Zhou dynasty!

He turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping across the room with extreme concealment, scanning like a radar for any imperial spies.

When his line of sight brushed past Wang Hao's group in the center of the hall, it paused for less than half a second.

Looking at the also-disguised Wang Hao in his luxurious white robes, holding a flamboyant folding fan, and accompanied by a few "attendants," Ye Chen let out a cold, inward sneer.

Where did this pampered silk-pants come from, running to a shady place like this just to seek some cheap thrills?

He looked away dismissively, paying these people no mind at all. In his rigid mindset, that high and mighty sovereign of the world was definitely cowering deep within the imperial palace, protected by layers upon layers of imperial guards. How could he possibly travel in disguise? And there was no way he would run to this chaotic, mixed-bag downtown area of the Southern City to breathe in the sweaty stench of mortals!

Ye Chen's arrogance had twisted his rationality.

But he had absolutely no idea that this single, disdainful glance had already carved the words "courting death" in glowing, massive letters right across his forehead.