Intelligence.
Chen Yan understood the importance of intelligence all too well.
All along, in every move Chen Yan made, he had been out in the open while his enemies lurked in the dark.
Precisely because of this, Chen Yan had been restrained at every turn and had always died for no apparent reason.
Back when Chen Yan had possessed terrible talent and could only while away his years in the outer court, he had never felt that this world was particularly dangerous.
From time to time, consular disciples or administrative officers from the outer court would give him a few simple tasks that took some time to complete.
Other than that, all he needed to do was lie flat.
Oh, except for that calamity in the outer court.
But once Chen Yan began to get entangled with the sect's great figures and gradually glimpsed the truth behind the curtain, the more he struggled, the more he discovered just how dark this world was.
Its tranquility and peace were merely a false surface.
The true world of immortals devoured people without even spitting out the bones.
Chen Yan knew what he had to do.
He left Steward Ding's side room, then found an empty corner in the inner hall of the gambling house.
The box in his hand still bore a restriction Steward Song had placed on it with true qi.
This was very likely the last wisp of true qi Steward Song had left in this world.
Chen Yan circulated his true qi and easily erased the restriction.
He opened the box. Inside was only a slip of paper folded several times.
After taking out the slip and unfolding it, Chen Yan found that it contained merely thirteen names written in neat small script.
Only thirteen names.
Pei Qingshan.
Zheng