# 539
Chapter 540: Guan Zai
Whirr—whirr—!
An armed helicopter descended slowly along the coastline, whipping up fierce winds.
Ye Fan, draped in a dark-red cloak with a Straight Blade at his waist, stepped off the aircraft.
His gaze swept across the distant horizon. Sunlight danced on the surging waves, sending up sheets of white foam. The sea was choppy but still within the bounds of “calm.”
Ye Fan narrowed his eyes at the far end of the sea line, lost in thought.
Moments later, an illusory carriage glided through the city behind him and halted at his side. The boy driver bowed respectfully.
“Commander Ye.”
“Mm.”
Ye Fan turned. Master Chen was climbing out of the carriage, a teacup in his left hand, his right hand brushing grey-white robes as he sighed.
“Something big again?”
“Yeah.”
Ye Fan gave a helpless smile.
He was about to speak when his phone rang.
He answered. “Zuo Qing? What is it?”
“…”
“What?” Ye Fan froze. “They rode a cloud straight into the mist to rescue Zhou Ping? How do they even have a way to move through the fog?”
“…”
“Shao Pingge?”
Ye Fan’s brows knit. “Why’s he mixed up in this too?”
“…”
“All right, I get it… Keep watching the northern fog the moment they’re back, report to me.”
He hung up, looking vexed, and exhaled a long sigh.
“Trouble again?” Master Chen raised an eyebrow.
“Lin Qiye and his brats really don’t fear death,” Ye Fan cursed. “At a critical time like this, a reserve team dares charge into the mist—do they know how dangerous it is? I warned them solemnly, but they wouldn’t listen. Damn it…”
He rarely swore, but now he was truly furious. He’d lectured Lin Qiye at length, yet the boy hadn’t absorbed a word and had simply rammed head-first into the fog.
Master Chen watched him for a while, then chuckled.
“What are you laughing at?” Ye Fan glared.
“Do you know what you look like right now?”
“What?”
“An old dad whose kids are all in their rebellious phase.” Master Chen smiled.
“…Hmph, it’s all for their own good.”
“See? Even more like it!”
“…”
Beep-beep-beep—!
An electric scooter horn sounded nearby. A young man in bright-yellow delivery gear, helmet on his head, wobbled up to them.
“Lu Wuwei, you’re late,” Ye Fan said.
Lu Wuwei pulled off his helmet and shrugged. “Battery died on the way; had to charge.”
As if remembering something, he dismounted, opened the insulated box on the back, and took out two milk-tea cups. He opened one for himself and handed the other to Ye Fan.
“You even bought milk tea on the way?” Ye Fan’s mouth twitched.
“Nope. I was delivering this order when you called. Came straight here, didn’t have time to drop it off.” Lu Wuwei looked mournful. “Another complaint incoming…”
“Why give him one and not me?” Master Chen asked, puzzled.
Lu Wuwei glanced at him. “Old folks should cut down on sugar.”
Master Chen: …
“That customer’s unlucky—ordered two cups only to have them hijacked by you two,” Master Chen chuckled.
“All for Great Xia.” Ye Fan glanced at the order slip and raised an eyebrow. “Sanjiu Sound Domain? Weird name…”
“By the way, why hasn’t Guan Zai arrived? Still in seclusion?” Master Chen looked around.
“I sent Zuo Qing to fetch him; should be here soon.”
Ye Fan checked the time.
Just then, several lines of green code materialized in mid-air.
#-*-g:UTF-8-*-
#Filename: helloworld.py
#auth-Z
>>> print(HelloWorld!)
The instant the last character appeared, all the code vanished. Virtual lines converged, forming a human shape.
A middle-aged man in a black-and-white plaid shirt and a duck-bill cap stepped out of the code. He lifted his head, pushing up black-framed glasses with his right middle finger; the lenses flashed white.
“Yo, long time no see, everyone.” He grinned.
“Nearly three years, and you finally exit seclusion,” Ye Fan said drily.
“After the new algorithm upgrade, bugs everywhere—nothing I could do.”
Guan Zai spread his hands, then looked around. “Full house today? Where’s my bro Zhou Ping?”
At the name Zhou Ping, Ye Fan opened his mouth, hesitated, and fell silent.
Guan Zai sensed something amiss; his brows tightened.
“Ye Fan, where’s Zhou Ping?”
“Went beyond the border.”
“Why?”
“To save people.” Ye Fan slowly recounted the earlier events.
When he finished, Guan Zai’s face turned grave. “Alone into the mist? If foreign gods intercept him— No, where is he now? I’ll go help—”
Virtual characters flickered around him, ready to wrap him away.
“You can’t go,” Ye Fan said suddenly.
“Why?!”
“You’re needed here more.”
“Then what about Zhou Ping?” Guan Zai’s brows locked, his tone dark. “This isn’t as simple as kidnapping a city—you know that. If their real target is Zhou Ping, he’s in extreme danger!”
“Zhou Ping can handle it. Right now we must fulfill our duty as Human Apex,” Ye Fan replied calmly. “If you leave, the three of us alone can’t stop an Egyptian god assault—you know what that means.”
“What if he can’t handle it?”
“He can.”
“On what grounds are you so sure?!”
“On the grounds that he is Great Xia’s Sword Saint!”
The two men stood face-to-face, gazes clashing like blades, a cold wind bursting between them.
Lu Wuwei, watching, hesitated, then stepped forward to mediate.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Master Chen stood behind him and silently shook his head.