Chapter 220: Confiscation (Part One)
Yang Haoran's smile was as warm and friendly as ever. Old Master Wu's grand display of loyalty brought a look of profound satisfaction to his face.
"Since the Old Master has put it that way, it would be too petty of me not to show some appreciation."
With a light wave of his hand, the wooden box containing the Soul Pills on the table lifted into the air, floating suspended before Yang Haoran.
Under Old Master Wu's perplexed gaze, Yang Haoran broke the seal on the wooden box, drew a wisp of Pure Yin Qi from one of the Soul Pills, and then infused it into the still-confused Old Master Wu's body.
Old Master Wu didn't know what Yang Haoran was doing, but as the wisp of Pure Yin Qi merged into his body and the Spirit Power within him surged at an astonishing rate, he recalled the phrase "soul energy infusion."
To make a horse run, you must feed it grass – Yang Haoran understood this principle perfectly. Thus, even though he treasured his Soul Pills dearly, he still extracted a wisp of Pure Yin Qi to enhance Old Master Wu's Spirit Power.
Since he had decided to have Old Master Wu handle various trivial matters for him, it was essential for Old Master Wu to possess sufficient power; without it, certain tasks would be difficult to carry out. Enhancing his strength to awe others, in Yang Haoran's view, was absolutely necessary.
Feeling the surge of Spirit Power within him, Old Master Wu's face revealed an expression of profound excitement. This excitement wasn't feigned; it stemmed entirely from his heart.
At this very moment, Old Master Wu couldn't help but recall the first pot of gold he earned when he started his business. His mood now was exactly as it had been back then.
"Please trouble the Old Master to handle the bodies here. They were all meritorious servants of the Underworld Office. Find a quiet place to bury them in the back mountain of this South Lake Death God Temple. Oh, and contact the Night Watchers from the other Death God Temples; have them all come here tonight."
Yang Haoran's voice snapped the excited Old Master Wu back to his senses. He forcibly suppressed his inner turmoil and promptly responded with respect.
"Please rest assured, Emissary of Death, this old man will handle both matters perfectly," Old Master Wu guaranteed.
"I have a thousand percent confidence in the Old Master's efficiency, so I'll leave it to you."
Yang Haoran said with a smile, then tore open a spatial rift, took the two Iron Books and the wooden box, and vanished from the hall.
After Yang Haoran vanished, Old Master Wu finally released the excitement he had held within. Although he didn't burst into hearty laughter, an excited smile spread across his wrinkled face.
He had long believed that getting closer to Yang Haoran would certainly bring him considerable benefits. This was the intuition of a successful businessman, and also the judgment of one.
Through his interactions with Yang Haoran, Old Master Wu had observed Yang Haoran's every word, action, and even minute detail. He had always felt that Yang Haoran was no ordinary person, and that his rise was only a matter of time; he just hadn't expected this day to come so swiftly.
Old Master Wu was also an ambitious man. His initial decision to draw closer to Yang Haoran was precisely so he could achieve his goals as quickly as possible. The moment he became a Night Watcher, that initial objective was already met, and the one who helped him achieve it was none other than Yang Haoran himself.
After becoming a Night Watcher, he acquired new goals: to establish himself firmly within the Night Watcher circle in the shortest possible time, then find a way to get closer to the Emissary of Death, ideally becoming one of their trusted confidantes, so that he could gain even greater benefits.
Yet, in just a short span of time, this objective too had been achieved. Now that most of Lecheng's Night Watchers were dead, anyone still alive could be considered firmly established within the Night Watcher circle.
As for getting closer to the Emissary of Death, or even becoming a trusted confidante, wasn't he already one now?
It was just that the Emissary of Death was no longer Deng Feng, but Yang Haoran instead.
His first goal after becoming a Night Watcher had been achieved, and the one who enabled Old Master Wu to reach this objective was, again, none other than Yang Haoran. How could he not be excited?
The benefits he currently enjoyed were unmatched by any other Night Watcher in Lecheng, and all of it had been bestowed upon him by Yang Haoran. This only confirmed how incredibly wise his decision to cultivate a good relationship with Yang Haoran had been.
From an age perspective, Yang Haoran was merely a child in his eyes. However, since neither of them were ordinary people, it was naturally impossible to view this issue through a mundane lens.
Furthermore, even in the world of ordinary people, strength spoke volumes.
Therefore, Old Master Wu didn't feel awkward just because Yang Haoran was much younger than him. As long as he could achieve his goals, gain more benefits, and be led further down this path, the age difference meant absolutely nothing.
Forget Yang Haoran; even if it were a mere child, as long as they could help him achieve his objectives, he would still follow them. Not to mention, Yang Haoran wasn't a child, but a cunning, calculating, and ambitious individual just like himself. Of course, he wouldn't feel the slightest bit awkward.
However, the caution and vigilance in his heart were certainly indispensable.
Old Master Wu's ability to start from nothing and build such a vast family fortune was not without reason; it wasn't solely dependent on luck.
After Yang Haoran tore open space and left, he didn't return to the convenience store; instead, he arrived at Deng Feng's villa.
Standing in the villa's courtyard, Yang Haoran's gaze swept across the building, finally resting on one particular spot, a look of emotion on his face.
This spot was precisely where Deng Feng had once reclined to bask in the sun, and where Deng Feng had planted the Death God Seal upon him.
At that time, Deng Feng had been a god-like existence in Yang Haoran's eyes. And he, in turn, had been but one of the countless ants in this world.
Yet, who could have imagined that just a few months later, this god-like existence would be annihilated, while he, this humble ant, not only survived but also took his place?
This was something neither Yang Haoran nor the now-annihilated Deng Feng had foreseen. If Deng Feng had, he would surely have killed Yang Haoran the moment he first laid eyes on him.
You can never know whether tomorrow will bring you good fortune or ill tidings. This holds true for ordinary people, and equally so for the extraordinary, like Yang Haoran.
Dispelling the meaningless sighs in his heart, Yang Haoran composed himself and strode forward.
He hadn't come here today to sigh with emotion, but to confiscate property.
To avoid wasting the limited time available each day – that was his consistent style.
Upon entering the villa, he was immediately greeted by a wave of women's perfume, smelling fragrant and pleasant.
Although Yang Haoran knew nothing about perfume, in his opinion, any fragrance that made one feel so comfortable surely couldn't be low quality.
Yang Haoran found it unsurprising that Deng Feng's villa smelled of women's perfume, as Deng Feng had always kept several women for his own amusement. It was only natural for the villa to have such a strong scent of perfume.
"Where would he put his valuables?"
Yang Haoran stood still, rubbed his stubble, and fell into deep thought.
Deng Feng's villa was quite large. Conducting a thorough, carpet-style search of the entire villa for anything would be extremely time-consuming. If he had other options, he naturally wouldn't want to waste time on such a task.
But he didn't know where Deng Feng would hide valuables. Without a carpet-style search, how could he find them?
Just as Yang Haoran was fretting over this matter, his eyebrow twitched suddenly, as if he had thought of something.
Concurrently, a woman's terrified shriek echoed through the villa.
The sudden appearance of the scream, of course, did not startle Yang Haoran. He didn't even show a hint of surprise, merely looking with a smiling face towards the source of the cry.
He saw a young woman wrapped in a bathrobe, her hair still dripping wet, evidently having just bathed. There was no trace of worldliness about her; instead, she possessed the delicate charm of a lotus emerging from water.
As the woman's terrified shriek rang out, the villa immediately became lively.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
"What's all this ghost-wailing so early in the morning? Is someone dead?"
"Can you stop making noise? I'm still dreaming!"
Several distinct female voices emerged from the villa one after another – some filled with anger, some with confusion, and others with discontent.
Though their emotions varied, one thing remained consistent: their voices were all pleasant to the ear, each with its own unique charm.
"There's. . . there's a man! No, a pervert! A pervert has broken in!"
The young woman shrieked again, then covered her chest with both hands, terrified of revealing even an inch of skin.
Her words immediately brought a flurry of hurried footsteps echoing through the villa, and one beautiful figure after another appeared within Yang Haoran's sight.
Yang Haoran wore a smile, his expression betraying no hint of panic, much less a lecherous grin.
As for the young women, their gazes towards Yang Haoran varied: some were filled with confusion, some with wariness, and others with fright.
The only thing absent, theonly</> thing, was any trace of interest.
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