Dong Huiying had thought the three of them would stay at the inn, but unexpectedly, Liang Zhichen led her and Liang Haoming to a slum within the Golden Triangle. This slum was located among maze-like alleys, the layout incredibly complex, just like a labyrinth. Along the way, Dong Huiying paid close attention to the route, but after several left turns, she still felt confused. She thought if she were alone here, she would definitely get lost. Along the way, she had witnessed several brutal public murders like those committed by Wang San. She felt she was walking not just on the streets of the Golden Triangle, but also on a journey of the spirit. With each corpse that appeared, as she saw those bodies, her heart grew colder and colder. It seemed she needed to plan early, even though she had just entered the city and glimpsed only the tip of the iceberg. In this place, kindness was the cheapest and most useless commodity; you might not attack others, but they wouldn’t regard your life as important. She had even seen two Dayuan women, who, just because of a verbal dispute, burst into rage and fought until both were ruined. "This is the place," he stopped in front of a house. The wooden door was rotten, very unassuming, and cobwebs hung all over it, showing that the owner hadn’t returned for many days. Liang Zhichen pulled out a key from under the wooden door and pushed open the courtyard gate, revealing a desolate yard. The yard was small and, due to long disuse, the house was quite dusty inside. "Hui, you sit first. Haoming and I will clean up a bit." With the concerted efforts of the couple, by nightfall, they had cleaned the house, thankfully its small size, aside from the kitchen, left only two rooms. At night, Liang Zhichen asked his younger brother to accompany his wife, while he himself went out, claiming he was going to buy some food. But after leaving the yard, he turned corners in the alley and sneaked into an uninhabited house, expertly lifting a wooden plank and then going down through an underground tunnel. After who knows how long, he emerged in another house, then went to another place, another house, another tunnel. The underground labyrinth was exceedingly complex, filled with dead ends, its branches leading in all directions. A crafty rabbit has three burrows, but why would he stop at just three? The man wore a black robe and a black cloak, the fabric luxurious and embroidered with a dragon pattern in gold thread. The man’s hair, black as a raven’s, spread loose, and he wore a menacing ghost face mask made of bronze. He had beautiful hands, distinct knuckles, pale skin, and long fingers. On his index finger, he wore a black ring. He walked to the head and sat on the Taishi Chair. Below, men and women glanced at each other, seeming quite surprised, as if they hadn’t expected the man to appear here. At that moment, a man affably said, "Brother Jin, when did you return?" The man looked graceful, leisurely waving a cyan ink paper fan depicting a landscape painting. The man in the ghost face mask slowly raised his head, his gaze sharp, "This is my place to begin with. Since when do I have to report to you before I return?" The effusive man paused slightly, "No, that’s not what I meant. I was just surprised. Brother Jin, you left and were gone for two years, and during that time we heard nothing from you; we even wondered if something unfortunate had happened to you."