Even Yang Fei did not expect that behind the Alliance of Gods, there was a behemoth like the Seven Days Club.

This is no longer a simple dispute among underground forces, but wanting to completely destroy the Seven Days Club is definitely not easy.

However, the grudge of the Evil Dragon Brothers cannot go unavenged.

These murderers of the Alliance of Gods, Yang Fei will definitely not let them go.

Originally, Yang Fei was determined to kill Chu Liang, but at this moment, learning such shocking news from his mouth, and with Chu Liang actually seeking death, Yang Fei became uninterested in dealing with him.

He looked at Chu Liang indifferently, "I won't kill you, but I hope you turn yourself in."

"Hermes wants to kill you. You can only keep your life by hiding in the Sky Prison."

Chu Liang was extremely surprised, "You... you won't kill me?"

Yang Fei sneered, "My hands never get stained with the blood of vile people."

Chu Liang lowered his head deeply and sighed.

The old man glanced at Susu, "Susu, take him to the State Security Bureau to surrender."

Susu nodded and looked at Chu Liang calmly.

"Let's go, Yang Fei is right, you can only survive in the Sky Prison, the Chu Family cannot guarantee your safety."

Chu Liang nodded, "Then, can I go back to the Chu Family once?"

Susu shook her head, escorting him out of the small building.

This battle was extremely fierce, both Yang Fei and the old man were injured, and many of the precious antiques in the Quiet Room were damaged.

Yang Fei and the old man tidied up together.

The old man looked at a torn painting of a lady on the ground, his face was gloomy, silent and absent-minded.

Yang Fei felt strange, as the old man is a person with a broad mind and does not care about such worldly things.

The damaged antiques were worth a fortune, far more precious than this painting.

But the old man didn't even take another look, yet at this moment, he was filled with regret and sadness for this painting.

The old man picked up the painting of the lady with care and gently smoothed it out.

His eyes looked at the beauty in the painting, showing a rare benevolent expression on his face.

Curiously, Yang Fei sneaked a glance, and saw on the painting a beautiful and otherworldly lady, dancing with a sword.

The painting was done in ink wash, with a pure and elegant spirit, and the woman was as beautiful as Chang'e of the Nine Heavens.

Even though Yang Fei does not understand paintings, he could see it.

This painting, although profound and full of spiritual energy, with a grand atmosphere, its technique is not exquisite, it is not a famous painting.

Moreover, the sword-dancing lady in the painting, Yang Fei seemed to have seen her somewhere before, that breathtaking feeling lingered in his heart.

The old man smoothed out the painting of the lady, found it incomplete and deficient, stared at it blankly, and only after a long time let out a sigh.

Yang Fei could no longer hold back and asked, "Master, is this painting important?"

The old man nodded, "Hmm, the painting is not important, what's important are the people in the painting and the person who painted it."

At this point, the old man gave Yang Fei a deep look.

"These two people are not only very important to me but also very important to you."

Yang Fei's heart pounded, as if a long-held great secret was about to be revealed.

He looked at the old man with anticipation, "I felt very close to you as soon as I met you, are you my relative?"

The old man gave Yang Fei a deep look, with an even more profound benevolence in his eyes.

"There are some things, if spoken prematurely, will do more harm than good to you."

"What you need to do now is to do your best, guard this country well, and continue to cultivate martial arts."

"And when you are truly strong enough and can accept the truth, come find me again."

Yang Fei was dumbfounded, tears flowing inside.

"Damn, pulling this trick on me again? These old monsters are really getting trickier by the day."

However, since the elder would not speak, Yang Fei also found it inconvenient to ask further.

Whether it is Uncle Fuu, or the Old Taoist, Xue Mingtai, An Zichen, these people might know more or less about Yang Fei's past.

Yet it seems they have all reached a consensus, firmly refusing to tell Yang Fei about his background.

Yang Fei himself also felt there was something special about him.

The elegant man who repeatedly appeared in his dreams was not just a figment of his imagination.

Perhaps, he played an extremely important role in Yang Fei's life.

The old man remained silent, and Yang Fei, too, remained silent.

This feeling was not abrupt but instead carried a sense of mutual understanding and warmth typical among family members.

The old man, being injured, lay down to rest after tidying up for a while.

Yang Fei meticulously sorted everything, putting them back where they belonged.

As for the broken walls and shattered antiques, it had to be left to the workers to handle.

The old man, with squinted eyes, watched Yang Fei with a smile, filled with deep familial affection.

At this moment, footsteps were heard outside the door, light and slow in pace.

Both of them were martial arts masters and felt it immediately, Yang Fei made a preliminary judgment based on the footsteps.

"A man, about 1.75 meters tall, weighing around 80 kilograms, walking steadily, unhurriedly, toes pointing outward, a duck-footed pace."

The person stopped at the door, standing respectfully outside.

The old man frowned, clearly knowing who the visitor was.

He said to Yang Fei indifferently, "Go handle him, I don't want to see him."

Yang Fei nodded and walked out of the Phoenix Pavilion.

Outside the small building, under a row of ginkgo trees, a man was waiting respectfully.

The man was in his fifties, slightly portly, with a square face, and his hair was turning slightly gray.

He exuded a powerful aura of someone in a high position of authority, causing Yang Fei to squint his eyes involuntarily.

Official presence like the ocean!

Yang Fei had encountered many high-level leaders, some of whom were approachable, while others stoic and mindful of their status.

But one thing in common was that each embodied a certain commanding presence.

However, compared to this person, those so-called major leaders' presence paled in comparison.

Just like the difference between a Young Novice Monk and the Buddha.

This person, though respectful and low-key, possessed an overwhelming aura.

Even someone as extraordinarily powerful as Yang Fei seemed compelled to listen to him.

The man heard the footsteps, raised his head, about to speak, but looked shocked, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Xie'er, why are you here?"

Yang Fei saw the man's face and was equally stunned.

This face appeared on CCTV every day, delivering important speeches, every word and action was the focal point of media reporters.

Yang Fei never thought he would encounter such a prominent figure in this place.

Stranger still, this person actually knew him and immediately called him by his nickname.

Yang Fei stared stupidly at him for a long time before finally speaking.

"The old man is resting, he said he doesn't want to see anyone."

The man nodded, smiling.

"Seeing you here puts my mind at ease, the old man's mood seems pretty good."

Yang Fei nodded, the man's unspoken imposing aura made his speech less fluent.

The man seemed very concerned about Yang Fei, smiling and examining him.

"After the incident with the Evil Dragon, we have been concerned about you. Now seeing you, you seem in good spirits, that reassures me."

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