Chapter 102: Wang Ze

The grand Luo Tian ritual concluded with Zhang Chulan emerging victorious, marking a temporary pause in the proceedings. Among the practitioners of the Yang Thunder technique, Zhang Lingyu's strength far surpassed Zhang Chulan’s. Yet, after being swiftly defeated by Ye Yan’s single strike and having been worn down by Feng Baobao’s probing assaults, Zhang Lingyu’s condition had long since deteriorated from its peak.

In the end, Zhang Chulan seized the opportunity and surged ahead, and even with his usual arrogance, he could only claim second place.

With the Luo Tian ritual over, most participants and spectators had already departed, but the people of North China remained lingering on the mountain. Partly because Zhang Chulan and the Grand Celestial Master had more matters to discuss, and partly in anticipation of the second grand spectacle about to unfold.

Though Ye Yan was eager to return and attempt another round of Ascension to Dominion, Xia He was still on the mountain, so he could not simply leave. Staying behind also served as a precaution, and he might as well stay to enjoy the unfolding drama.

Tasked with suppressing the complete nature, Xu San and Xu Si transformed from former ruffians into busy men. Zhang Chulan followed the Grand Celestial Master, while Feng Baobao was dragged about the mountain by Li Ziyuan, also finding things to occupy her time. Meanwhile, Ye Yan suddenly found himself with nothing to do.

Previously, when bored, he could watch the matches, but now, this sudden lull left him feeling quite out of sorts.

So Ye Yan simply gathered his flag demon and started a card game in his room.

Ye Yan, Ma Laowu, and Jin Erpeng sat together playing Dou Di Zhu, while a few others played mahjong.

“Ma Laowu, hurry up! It’s your turn already. What are you dawdling for?” Ye Yan, clutching his two cards, urged Ma Laowu, who still held a hand of cards.

“Brother Yan, do you really want me to play?” Ma Laowu hesitated.

“Play it…” Ye Yan replied nonchalantly.

“Brother Yan, if I do play, and I win against you, you won’t hold a grudge, will you?”

“A grudge? How could I?” Ye Yan glanced at Ma Laowu’s cards—one, two, three... seventeen in total—and was completely unconcerned.

“Just play boldly. Nothing will happen. Brother Yan has seen every kind of situation. Just go ahead and play,” Ye Yan waved his hand.

“All right…” With those words, Ma Laowu seemed reassured. He pulled out a bomb from his hand and threw it onto the discard pile.

“Four sevens.”

“No way.” Ye Yan’s remaining cards were a pair of twos, and with both the big and little jokers already out, singles and pairs wouldn’t win.

He refused to believe that he could be wiped out by seventeen cards—that was seventeen cards!

So Ye Yan remained calm.

Ma Laowu hesitated, looking up to observe Ye Yan’s expression. “Brother Yan, should I continue playing?”

“Play!”

Ye Yan’s voice was bold and commanding.

“…Okay.” This time, Ma Laowu did not draw cards but threw his entire hand into the pile: “A plane with wings…”

He played all his cards at lightning speed. Ye Yan, holding two twos, was utterly stunned.

He glanced at the plane set in the discard pile, then at Ma Laowu’s empty hand, and wore a baffled expression.

That’s it? Just gone? That was seventeen cards.

He got wiped out?

It was utterly absurd.

Ye Yan felt a headache coming on and didn’t want to say a word, sinking into silence.

Across from him, Ma Laowu nervously watched Ye Yan. “Ye Yan, you’re not mad, are you?”

Ye Yan cast him a glance and replied calmly, “Mad? No. You’ve followed me for so long—do you think Brother Yan is that petty?”

“Of course it has to be Brother Yan!” Ma Laowu was moved to tears by these words, nearly ready to prostrate himself in worship.

But before he could feel touched for long, Ye Yan suddenly shifted tone: “But I just remembered—the family’s backyard cemetery hasn’t been tended to in a long time. When you have time, clean it up, will you?”

“…”

Ma Laowu’s feelings were abruptly halted, while Jin Erpeng, who had been watching for a while, couldn’t hold back his laughter. He doubled over, laughing heartily.

Hearing the bell-like laughter, Ye Yan’s face darkened, and he turned to look at him.

“What are you laughing at? When we get back, you’ll help Ma Laowu. You two will work together—packaged as a team.”

Jin Erpeng: “Gah!!!”

Seeing the two comrades’ bitter expressions, Ye Yan’s mood improved considerably.

Just as he prepared to light a cigarette to ease his complicated mood, the guest room door suddenly knocked.

“Is Mr. Ye here? Are you inside? I’m Xiaoyu, the young attendant serving Master Zhiwei, the Jinzhong Celestial Master. Master Zhiwei requests your presence.”

Master Zhiwei?

Hearing the youthful voice, Ye Yan was momentarily stunned, then realized it was none other than Zhang Zhiwei, the contemporary Grand Celestial Master.

After this connection was made, Ye Yan replied to the door, “Do you know what the Grand Celestial Master wants with me?”

“Master did not say,” came the reply.

“Alright then, I’ll be there shortly.”

…

Eagle’s Nest Airport.

A private jet belonging to the Wang family descended through the clouds and landed within the airport.

Wang Ai, dressed in a Zhongshan suit and leaning on a cane, stood at the boarding gate, flanked by two men of differing builds. His silver hair was neatly groomed, his bow tie formal, and his expression grave, as if waiting for an important figure.

As the cabin door opened, a young man, around twenty-something, with a center-parted hairstyle, suspenders, leather shoes, and gold-rimmed glasses, descended the long staircase toward Wang Ai.

“Just you alone?” Wang Ai’s furrowed brows tightened, and he asked coldly.

“What else? Who else did you want to bring?” the youth retorted with a sly elegance.

“I made a promise and spent a fortune bringing people here. Is this how you repay me?” Wang Ai tapped his cane and looked annoyed, questioning the youth.

“Boss Wang, don’t get upset. You know our organization’s principles—we guarantee every mission is one hundred percent accomplished…”

“Besides, even if this mission is just me alone, it’s more than enough. It’s not like we’re dealing with Zhang Zhiwei—just some nobody who can’t even make the Spirit Energy rankings.”

“Don’t worry. If you don’t trust me, Nightmare, do you think you don’t trust our organization?”

The youth’s words silenced Wang Ai. After all, the reputation of Purgatory was well known. If not, Wang Ai wouldn’t have risked treason to summon them.

So Wang Ai chose to believe.

After a moment of contemplation, Wang Ai slowly asked, “When do you plan to make your move?”

“No rush…”

Having come all this way, the sly youth had more than one purpose. Besides the task of eliminating Ye Yan, there were other matters to attend to.

Wang Ai cared little about the Purgatory operative’s other errands; his sole concern was when Ye Yan would die.

“My only demand is that Ye Yan must die—and die miserably. Can you do that?”

Saying this, Wang Ai’s expression twisted into that of a wrathful demon.

“Rest assured,” the youth shrugged. “But first, you’ll take me to Longhu Mountain. I want to see the Spirit Energy ranking’s perennial number one with my own eyes.”

“You can meet the Grand Celestial Master, but you must remember—your identity is no longer Nightmare, but my grandnephew ‘Wang Ze.’”