Chapter 120: I’ll Believe You Once You Clean It Up

Within the most authentically ancient European-style castle, Emperor Jiuzhuo paused in surprise, his fingers still on the keyboard. “You say that the highly skilled pianist Shangguan Ranyan is at Christine University?”

“Yes, that’s the latest news, and she’s scheduled to give a lecture at the school auditorium around three o’clock.”

Jiuzhuo smiled with intrigue, a peculiar glow emanating from the blue diamond at his ear. “How fascinating, isn’t it?”

“Notify Wuneng Nida; I’m heading over immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jiuzhuo picked up the handkerchief prepared nearby and casually wiped his slender, meticulous fingers, a trace of indifference and world-weariness flickering at the corner of his eyes. He murmured softly, “Shangguan Ranyan.”

His greatest passion was medicine, relishing the thrill brought by scalpels and petri dishes. Beyond that, it was the piano.

He had once inadvertently heard her play, and her mastery of the instrument earned his admiration. Later, upon learning she was a disciple of Xieliya, he chose not to probe further, for he detested entanglements with those powerful families.

Now that she had come onto his territory, how could he let her slip away?

He must meet her!

…

At the same time, December 6th, three in the afternoon, mountainous region of M Country.

Huang Pushen had just finished a battle—not only fighting covert operatives loyal to the Old Master but also blowing up the carefully guarded arsenal the Old Master had amassed.

So, the Old Master’s main stockpile was in M Country!

This revelation surprised him and gave him much to consider.

Molin and Mo Yi led their team and arrived shortly thereafter.

Molin stepped forward to report, “Master, everything’s been destroyed—nothing remains and all personnel are silenced. However, I checked their communicators; some transmission records were found, but whether any were sent out is uncertain…”

Huang Pushen cut him off sharply, “Don’t worry about that. Take your team and rendezvous with Mo Qi. Dispose of anyone lurking in the shadows. Leave no trace of his enterprises. Have Mo Liu inform Gong Yi and the others; our side is done.”

“Yes, I’ll handle it immediately.”

Molin knew exactly whom his master referred to as “he” and understood that this battle was indispensable. He bowed respectfully before turning to lead his men away.

“President,” Mo Yi approached respectfully, the title slipping out habitually.

Huang Pushen’s expression remained composed and calm. “Let’s find a place with signal. Try to contact Mo Jiu.”

“Yes.”

They left the desolate outskirts, trying to establish contact with the outside world.

The Old Master’s secret base was hidden in a signal-deprived mountainous area with complex terrain and confusing routes, deliberately chosen to be difficult to track. Even the warehouses were scattered in multiple locations—a painstakingly crafted defense.

He intended to let him taste the pain of having nothing. Their conflict was long-standing, but now it had escalated to a fierce midpoint.

Mo Yi knew his president would be eager for news of Miss Shangguan as soon as the battle ended, so he hurried, testing signal strength everywhere. Eventually, after leaving the area, cell service returned.

Seeing over twenty missed calls, he felt a rising alarm.

Huang Pushen’s phone also regained signal, displaying more than twenty red notifications.

Without hesitation, he dialed.

“Master?”

Mo Jiu, standing outside the main hall, finally answered Huang Pushen’s call, nearly overwhelmed with relief.

“What’s the situation?” the man’s voice was steady but laced with worry—he feared something might have happened to the young lady.

“Master, we’re in M Country. The lady agreed to teach at Christine University and is now in the school auditorium. Worse, Jiu Ye has arrived. I’m worried about Miss Shangguan…”

“What did you say?” The furious voice erupted from the phone, making Mo Jiu tremble.

“Keep a close watch on him. If anything happens to Ranyan, you won’t stay by my side.”

“Yes,” Mo Jiu’s forehead was slick with cold sweat.

Mo Shi, watching him, immediately grasped the situation.

He asked, “When is Master expected?”

“Unclear. He says he’ll come as soon as possible. Should we go in?”

A gleam of intent flickered in Mo Shi’s eyes. “Of course. Sooner or later, the truth comes out—either by us or by Master himself.”

“Understood.”

If Mo Jiu and Mo Shi appeared beside Shangguan Ranyan, the cunning Emperor Jiuzhuo would surely deduce that Shangguan Ranyan and Huang Pushen—no, more precisely, Massacre—shared some close connection.

Inside the grand hall of the Holy Machine Fortress, Shangguan Ranyan’s pupils constricted slightly as Emperor Jiuzhuo and Di Xing entered, but she quickly masked it with indifference, subtle beyond detection.

The man who had fired at her last time, it turned out, was the legendary Ninth Lord—the king of M Country.

Jiuzhuo regarded the solitary figure on stage and twisted his lips into a wicked smile. So it was her!

In the world, only she—and one other—had ever dodged his bullets.

Principal Wuneng Nida led a group of leaders, board members, professors, and students in respectfully greeting Jiuzhuo. “We are honored by the Ninth Lord’s presence at our school!”

Jiuzhuo touched his earring, his eyes glinting maliciously. “Wuneng Nida is too polite. I’ve heard your school has recruited a pianist of exceptional skill. I’m eager to learn a thing or two, if I may…”

Upon hearing this, Xieliya instantly could not remain seated. He rose and stepped forward, blocking Jiuzhuo’s view of Shangguan Ranyan on stage. “Ninth Lord, are you in such high spirits today? Simply seeking amusement? Or is it that nowhere else will have you?”

Jiuzhuo chuckled darkly and took the chair that Di Xing had just arranged for him. Pulling out a handkerchief, he wiped his hands. “There are few in all of M Country who dare speak to me this way.”

Raising his head, he leveled a disdainful gaze. “Do you think the Skiko Wei family knows how reckless you’ve become?”

The atmosphere suddenly chilled with tension, everyone fearful that the Ninth Lord might do something terrible in the school. They shrank into themselves, barely daring to breathe.

Only Ping Jiage in the second row kept her eyes fixed on the proud, commanding man. Her heart felt as sweet as if she'd tasted honey, but that sweetness was swiftly replaced by intense resentment and jealousy.

Was the Ninth Lord really here for that icy doll?

What was there to admire?

Such a young age, yet so many fawning over her—she was nothing but a vain little person flaunting herself everywhere!

Pigri stepped forward, shielding the man’s piercing gaze as he defended his grandfather. “I believe Grandfather’s words were meant to arrange something better for the Ninth Lord.”

Jiuzhuo tossed the now-dampened blue handkerchief at his feet, his playful mood rising. “Is that so? Clean it, and I’ll believe this deal is worthwhile, won’t I?”