A Run-Down Courtyard Hiding Dragons and Tigers, a Young Master Whose Money Could Move the Gods

Blood clouds roiled within Prison Suppressor.

Fang Mo's voice rang beneath the tower, before the throne, like an imperial decree from Heaven.

Gu Yichuan was overseeing Wang Ergou drilling the Ghost Soldiers. His soul shuddered, and he dared not show the slightest neglect. He transformed into a gust of sinister wind and appeared beneath the throne in an instant, prostrating himself.

"Master, what are your orders?"

After this period of reform through labor, Gu Yichuan's soul had grown much more solid than when he first arrived. Even the Jailer Uniform he wore looked increasingly real.

Fang Mo rested his chin in one hand, his gaze piercing the endless void as if it had fallen upon the dilapidated courtyard in the Real World.

"I took office today, and Lei Heng assigned me two people. One is called Yan Wangchou, the other Iron Bull. Do you know them?"

Gu Yichuan knelt on the ground. At the two names, ghost fire flickered in his hollow eye sockets.

He pondered for a moment, seeming to search through memories long since shattered.

"Reporting to Master, those two have been around for many years. They were already in this courtyard back when my father still worked for the Punishment Department. Yan Wangchou used to be a handyman. Later, when he got old and his legs grew unsteady, they dumped him here to watch the gate."

"As for Iron Bull, he's an idiot who only knows how to forge iron. Lei Heng found them an eyesore, but couldn't very well kick them out outright, so he's kept them in the Seventh Squad all this time."

"I never paid them much mind either. I'd usually just have them run errands or deliver messages. Lei Heng left them with Master, probably hoping you'd draw their salaries for nothing. He never expected them to do anything important."

After listening, Fang Mo furrowed his brow slightly.

A handyman? An idiot?

It all sounded perfectly reasonable. If it were anyone else, they would have believed it.

But something about those two had always felt off to Fang Mo.

"Still Water Mirror, activate."

In an instant, the entire world changed in his perception.

The sounds, light and shadows, and currents of air in the courtyard outside the window all became pure streams of information, flooding into his mind.

Iron Bull was forging iron. With every swing of his hammer, his seemingly clumsy movements concealed an astonishing degree of control.

The hammer struck the billet exactly at its point of impact, not a fraction too hard or too soft.

More terrifying still, every muscle in his body tensed in that instant, like a great bow drawn to its limit. His strength took root in his feet, traveled up his Spinal Dragon, and flowed into his arms in perfect harmony, without the slightest waste.

Even Fang Mo's Golden Bones physique couldn't match that kind of bodily control. Could an idiot really do this?

Then there was Yan Wangchou.

He squatted in the corner, looking lazy and slack, his whole body seemingly riddled with openings.

But under the scrutiny of Still Water Mirror, Fang Mo discovered that the old man's breathing was extraordinarily long and steady. He drew in a breath, let it circle through his lungs nine times, and only then breathed it out.

When he exhaled a mouthful of smoke, the smoke ring hung in the air without dispersing, forming a strange rhythm.

Throughout the whole process, his chest barely rose or fell.

His whole being was one, without a flaw.

Fang Mo's heart sank.

With his current Golden Bones cultivation and the insight of Still Water Mirror, he still couldn't see how strong either man was.

That meant their realms far surpassed his own. They were at least top experts in the Organ Refining Realm, perhaps even beings of a higher level!

Gu Yichuan couldn't see through them because his level wasn't high enough.

Fang Mo could see through them because the talent Still Water Mirror was simply too heaven-defying, able to pierce to the source and see into people's hearts.

A playful curve tugged at Fang Mo's lips.

That fool Gu Yichuan had worked alongside these two for so many years and hadn't noticed a thing.

No wonder he'd died such a miserable death. With eyes like that, he deserved to be a confused ghost.

"Looks like this run-down courtyard is a place hiding dragons and crouching tigers after all."

Fang Mo tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

Since those two had hidden themselves so deeply, there had to be a reason.

Perhaps they were hiding from enemies, perhaps they were carrying out some secret mission, or perhaps they simply wanted to retire in peace.

Whatever the reason, now that they were in Fang Mo's hands, they were his people.

Fang Mo was in an excellent mood.

He had always been generous toward capable people like these.

As long as they didn't stand in his way or ruin his plans, they could all get along just fine. And if they could be of use to him, so much the better.

Just then, a commotion suddenly came from the courtyard gate.

"Dear nephew! Nephew, are you there? Your uncle's brought someone for you!"

The voice was loud, yet oily. Fang Mo knew who it was without looking.

Who else could it be but the greedy, fat warden Wang Youan?

Fang Mo's eyelid twitched. He pushed open the door and walked out.

Wang Youan's bulky body nearly blocked the entire courtyard gate, his oily sweat glistening in the sunlight.

Beside him stood a boy of about sixteen or seventeen.

The boy was plump and fair, with baby fat still lingering on his cheeks. He wore a brocade robe made of fine fabric, and a piece of warm jade of excellent quality hung from his waist.

His eyes were clear and bright, yet held a kind of sheltered foolishness. He was curiously surveying the dilapidated courtyard.