Unparalleled medical and martial arts skills, saving the CEO's fiancée at the start.

Three days after Ma Rui was arrested, a heavy rain fell in Jiangcheng.

The rain started in the evening, initially as a light drizzle, but it gradually intensified and turned into a downpour late at night.

Raindrops pounded against the windowpane, making a dense, pattering sound, like someone was constantly tapping on the window with pebbles.

The entire city was shrouded in rain, and the streetlights became blurry halos in the rain and mist, their outlines indistinct.

Jiang Ruoxi worked overtime until very late tonight. After finishing the last batch of supply chain documents, she was too lazy to move, so she slept in the office break room.

Ye Chen was about to take her home, but she retorted, "It's raining so hard outside, why bother going back and forth? The rest room has a bed and blankets, it's much more comfortable than home."

Ye Chen thought about the cot and the thin, translucent blanket in his office and realized that Jiang Ruoxi's words made a lot of sense, so he stayed in the security department as well.

At 2 a.m., the rain reached its peak.

Ye Chen lay on the cot, his hands behind his head, his eyes closed, his breathing steady, and he looked like he was sleeping soundly.

But if someone gets closer and looks closely, they will notice that his eyelids twitch slightly from time to time.

This is a unique mental technique of Medicine King Valley. While the body is resting, the consciousness maintains a minimum level of alertness, and no unusual movement or disturbance in the surroundings can escape his perception.

This was an instinct that Ye Chen had developed since childhood through various sneak attacks by his master.

In order to train him in this skill, the old woman threw snakes, scorpions, and toads into his bed every night for a month and a half, causing Ye Chen to sleep with one eye open for a long time, almost developing a chronic illness.

Suddenly, his eyes opened.

Without hesitation or confusion, those dark eyes were as clear as two cold pools in the darkness.

Ye Chen heard a sound, not the sound of rain, not the sound of wind, nor the normal noise of a building in a storm, but a deliberately suppressed, extremely faint sound of footsteps.

The sound came from the rooftop.

Ye Chen silently sat up from his cot, his bare feet touching the cold floor, and looked up at the ceiling.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the layers of reinforced concrete, locking onto the location of the uninvited guest on the rooftop.

The footsteps were so light that they were almost completely drowned out by the sound of the downpour.

But that person's steps were steady and even, each step perfectly rhythmic, carrying a certain unhurried cadence.

Ye Chen was very familiar with this footwork. Only those who had reached an extremely high level in internal martial arts could maintain such a rhythm in any environment.

An ordinary person's walking speed varies depending on their emotions, terrain, and weather, but this person's every step is as precise as a metronome.

The visitor is not good.

Ye Chen smiled slightly, stood up, casually put on a coat, pushed open the door of the security room, and walked slowly up the stairs.

He didn't take the elevator; the sound of the elevator running would have given away his whereabouts.

He didn't quicken his pace. Since the other party dared to stand on the rooftop and wait for him so openly, it meant that they had no intention of launching a sneak attack.

They're here for a direct confrontation.

At the Jiang Group headquarters building, there is a helicopter landing pad on the roof, surrounded by waist-high railings.

Ye Chen pushed open the iron gate on the roof, and the torrential rain instantly lashed down on him. The gale-force winds carried the rainwater, forming white curtains of water that swept across the roof, hitting him with a cold and painful sensation.

But Ye Chen's gaze immediately locked onto the person standing in the center of the rooftop.

He was a thin old man wearing a gray training uniform that was soaked through by the rain, clinging to his body and outlining his gaunt figure.

His hair was gray and shaved very short, each strand standing upright like a steel needle.

The wrinkles on his face were so deep they looked like they had been carved by a knife, and each crease held the marks of time.

But those eyes were incredibly bright, radiating a sharp light, like two cold stars in the darkness.

What concerned Ye Chen the most was that, despite the heavy rain, the old man stood motionless in the downpour, his hands behind his back, his breathing steady and long, as if the surrounding storm had nothing to do with him.

His breathing was frighteningly long. Ye Chen silently counted, and the other party only breathed three times a minute, which was already a level that only a master of internal energy could achieve.

The raindrops hit his body, forming a thin layer of mist on his skin, as if evaporated by some unseen force.

That's the manifestation of internal energy being circulated to its maximum and then released outwards to protect the body.

"You've come?" the old man spoke, his voice hoarse and dry, like two rusty pieces of iron rubbing against each other, but it clearly reached Ye Chen's ears amidst the roar of the downpour, each word seeming to strike his eardrums directly.

Ye Chen took a step forward, and the rain soaked him to the bone.

His hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes were wet and clung to his body, making him look somewhat disheveled, but he still had that nonchalant smile on his face, as if he had been woken up in the middle of the night to take a stroll.

"Grandpa, standing in the rain in the middle of the night, aren't you afraid of catching a cold? I have some Banlangen (Isatis root) here, would you like a packet?"

The old man ignored his teasing, looked him up and down, and a hint of surprise flashed in his sharp eyes.

"I've been wandering the martial world for forty years and have seen countless young talents, but few can still smile when they see me like you." His tone was calm, neither praising nor mocking, but full of confidence.

"Sir, you flatter me. I'm just a small-time hoodlum from the mountains, here in Jiangcheng just to make a living."

Ye Chen still had a playful, smiling expression.

"Just this courage alone is far superior to those two good-for-nothings, Zhao Jingang and Luo Ping. No wonder they fell into your hands; it's no wonder."

This time, the old man genuinely praised Ye Chen.

"You came all this way just to praise me, didn't you?" Ye Chen wiped the rain off his face and asked with a smile, his tone as light as if two old friends were chatting in a teahouse.

"I am a ghost servant, a retainer of the Qiao family." The old man raised his head slightly as he announced his name, his tone carrying an air of self-righteous arrogance.

"Oh, it's the Qiao family again. Why are they sticking to us like glue?"

Ye Chen was a little unhappy. In fact, he had expected it long ago; this person must have been sent by the Qiao family.

"I am here on the orders of Master Qiao to take your life. Considering your young age and the difficulty of your cultivation, I can give you a chance. Cripple your martial arts, kneel down and kowtow three times, and swear never to set foot in Jiangcheng again in this life, and I can spare your life."

The old man spoke with great confidence; he wanted to give Ye Chen a chance.

Ye Chen tilted his head and thought for a moment, then asked seriously, "What if I don't want to?"

"Then die."