He Yuzhu returns in Siheyuan

Chapter 894 The Complete Plan for Dragon Slaying God

The ancestral hall was so quiet that you could hear the soft popping of candle flames.

"If the cause cannot be found within ten days," the old man's voice was as cold as ice, "you will come to me with your head!"

Wang Ran shuddered, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead even faster. He kowtowed heavily, his forehead hitting the cold bluestone slab: "Your subordinate... obeys!" When he stood up, the back of his clothes was soaked with cold sweat, sticking to his body like a layer of wet mud.

If anyone else had dared to speak to Wang Ran like that, he would have slammed his fist on the table and stood up, his eyes blazing with a fury that could have ripped the person off. But the old man before him was different—he was someone who could easily decide his life, death, honor, and disgrace, a figure standing at the pinnacle of power. Even though his tone carried a hint of reprimand, Wang Ran could only bow his head, like a stalk of rice bent under the weight of a heavy load, not daring to breathe, and listening obediently. At the end, he had to force a respectful smile, his voice trembling slightly: "Rest assured, sir, I will investigate this matter thoroughly, leaving no stone unturned, and I will give you an explanation."

The old man said nothing more, only nodded slightly, and turned to leave. His back appeared hunched, but his spine was ramrod straight. Each step he took on the bluestone slabs was like a heavy hammer striking the heart, carrying an undeniable authority. Wherever he stepped, even the howling wind seemed to fall silent, obediently circling around him, as if afraid to provoke this invisible pressure.

Wang Ran watched the old man's figure disappear into the alleyway before daring to let the cold sweat trickle down his face, staining his clothes with a small, dark patch. He still couldn't understand how the demons who had roamed the Misty Forest for hundreds of years, those invulnerable and powerful spirits, could vanish without a trace overnight, leaving not even a trace of demonic energy. It was as if they had never existed, leaving only a desolate forest, exuding an indescribable eeriness. But now was clearly not the time to delve into it. He turned to the human cultivators who had just withdrawn from the forest, his eyes suddenly turning cold, like ice-cold knives, his voice carrying a chilling edge: "Your reward will not be less than a penny; the silver and jewels have already been prepared. But what happened in the Misty Forest, keep it to yourself—if I hear even a single word of gossip after we leave, don't blame me, Wang Ran, for being ruthless. I will take your heads and make sure you die without a burial place!"

The cultivators were all pale-faced, their lips trembling, nodding frantically. Who didn't know Wang Ran's methods? This man usually seemed mild-mannered, like an easy-going wealthy man, but when he became ruthless, he could make people wish they were dead. They had personally witnessed the fate of the spy who leaked the information not long ago. The crowd repeatedly responded, "We would never dare to speak recklessly," and "Rest assured, sir," and hurriedly left as if granted a pardon, their steps so fast it was as if a vengeful ghost was chasing them, wishing they could sprout wings and fly away from this place of trouble.

When only Wang Ran and his trusted confidant Zhang Zhong remained in the courtyard, Zhang Zhong cautiously approached, stealing glances at Wang Ran's grim face, and stammered, "Sir, what... should we do with Zhang Lei? After all, he has served you for many years, and his hands are stained with the blood of many demons..."

Wang Ran tapped his fingertips lightly on the table, making a soft "tap-tap" sound. His gaze was dark and unfathomable, like a bottomless, icy pool. The Misty Forest was now an empty shell; the troublesome demons had all vanished, and Zhang Lei's usefulness as a guard was long gone. Keeping him around was like keeping a hidden danger who could leak secrets at any moment—this man knew too much, and there was no guarantee he wouldn't become a hindrance in the future. In that case, what was the point of keeping him alive?

He looked up at Zhang Zhong, said nothing, but slowly raised his right hand and made a clean throat-slitting motion. As his fingertips traced across Zhang Zhong's neck, they carried a resolute and ruthless air.

Zhang Zhong's pupils contracted slightly, a chill running down his spine. He nodded emphatically, said nothing more, and turned to leave. Some things don't need to be said outright; understanding is enough. This was the tacit understanding he had developed over the years by Wang Ran's side.

On the other side, Long Shishen stood on the edge of a precipice, gazing at the surging sea of ​​clouds below. The clouds, like towering waves, churned with white foam, surging ceaselessly beneath his feet. The chilling dragon aura surrounding him gradually dissipated, returning to calm like the receding tide. He could clearly sense that the lurking killing intent had dissipated; the human spies and hidden scouts had undoubtedly been completely wiped out, leaving not a trace. He flicked his finger, and a dazzling golden light flew from his fingertip, landing on the open ground and instantly transforming into an ancient wooden boat. The boat's hull was entirely black, engraved with dragon patterns that shimmered with spiritual light. These dragon patterns seemed to come alive, meandering and flowing across the hull, exuding an ancient aura. The wooden boat hovered steadily in mid-air, without swaying or rocking, like an island rooted in the clouds.

"Alright, come out for some fresh air." Long Shishen's voice was somewhat lazy, like a lion that had just woken up, yet it possessed a domineering aura that pierced through the clouds and clearly reached the hidden place.

Long Tian led the demon race out of the hidden formation, their faces filled with astonishment, their eyes still gleaming with lingering shock. While they were hiding, they had only heard several deafening dragon roars outside, roars that soared to the heavens, seemingly tearing the earth apart and shaking their very souls. Then all was quiet. When they emerged, the human cultivators who had besieged the forest had vanished without a trace, not even a corpse remained, as if swallowed by the sea of ​​clouds. Looking at Long Shishen's tall and imposing figure, the last trace of resentment in Long Tian's heart dissipated—this Ancestral Dragon's strength was even more unfathomable than recorded in ancient texts; no wonder he could cause the heavens and earth to change color.

“Senior,” Long Tian stepped forward, his voice filled with reverence, bowing even lower, “Where should we go next? Should we return to our old lair to regroup?”

Long Shishen turned to look at them, a faint smile playing on his lips, a smile that carried an all-knowing composure: "I have my own plans. First, find a quiet place for you to rest and recuperate for a while, so that you will have the strength to do what needs to be done next. There are some scores that should be settled properly."

Long Tian quickly bowed and replied, "We will obey your orders, Senior. We will do our best even at the cost of our lives."

At this moment, how could he dare to harbor even the slightest doubt? He felt that perhaps following such an existence could truly liberate the demon race from its millennia-long fate of wandering and being slaughtered by others, allowing it to regain its former glory. The wooden boat slowly rose, carrying the demon race towards the depths of the sea of ​​clouds, its stern trailing a faint golden light, like a ribbon connecting heaven and earth. Only the wind by the cliff remained, still softly recounting the unseen clash that had just taken place; the majesty in the dragon's roar, the vanished humans—all had become a mysterious enigma in the sea of ​​clouds.