Wen Yan quietly slipped away, not getting involved in the matters here anymore; with his current access level, even checking the phone number of Zhang Xuewen's wife would trigger an alert.

And obviously, that had nothing whatsoever to do with the Tuoba Martial God; in the Scorching Sun Department's database, Zhang Xuewen was just a petty martial artist from a well-off family.

His wife's background was way higher than his, with a martial arts school in Nanwu County behind her, not to mention a distinguished family lineage.

Just browsing the files with a casual glance, Wen Yan roughly understood why, out there, there were so many rumors about Tuoba Martial God—even inside the Scorching Sun Department, everyone knew Tuoba Martial God had once chosen a five-story villa as a reward.

Back then, Wen Yan had thought that was loads of money, but after wandering a few times in the Nanwu County Scorching Sun Department, he realized that plain money was actually the easiest thing to get.

The people in the Scorching Sun Department, especially those frontline field agents, were all risking their necks. Counting purely on loyalty would be a joke—the welfare, pay, and bonuses given to frontline field agents were pretty generous.

After all, a standard-issue uniform alone started at tens of thousands, and that was at cost price, not a penny padded in; even an elementary schooler could tally it up bill by bill.

So, when Wen Yan heard that Tuoba Martial God chose a five-story villa, he started pondering.

Even in Yu State, there were plenty of rich people, but in a year, how many people actually moved into a five-story villa? Even the most tedious process of elimination should be able to narrow down a primary target, right?

Now he basically understood; eighty percent of this stuff was released on purpose by the Scorching Sun Department to muddy the waters.

In reality, anything involving money never actually landed directly in Zhang Xuewen's hands at all.

Instead, the salary and bonuses that were supposed to go to the Tuoba Martial God got redirected, through plausible means, to businesses run by Zhang Xuewen's parents, or to his father-in-law's side.

Turning him from a first-gen rich kid who was hard to disguise, into a second-gen who leeches off his family—then nobody cares.

First-generation rich kids do stick out, but young, family-spending second-gens? Yu State has way too many of those.

No one would ever suspect Zhang Xuewen; no probing technique would work, and even abilities—well, chances are, totally useless too.

Back then, Glasses really had seen Tuoba Martial God at his peak; he did manage to borrow power, but only for thirty seconds—that's the best possible proof.

It's just a shame it wasn't the last day of the month back then; even if Zhang Xuewen lent him all his power and career for the full duration, it still wouldn't have accomplished jack all.

At the time, Wen Yan had thought maybe the gap was just too great—Tuoba Martial God had sensed it and forcibly suppressed himself, simply refusing to lend his power.

Then there were those who figured, maybe there never was a Tuoba Martial God in the first place.

In fact, nobody was really wrong.

Yeah, if there was one.

Wen Yan didn't dig any deeper—doing so would leave a record; he was sure Cai Heizi would cook up a solid cover, there'd be no holes for anyone to find.

Right now, he needed to go get himself checked out. After trying the first style of the Tiger Subduing Three Styles, he'd felt discomfort all through his muscles, bones, and joints, and even the effect of Yang Energy nurturing wasn't helping much.

He registered at the hospital; the doctor examined him, and after hearing Wen Yan's description, gave him a slip, suggesting a CT scan—regular X-ray probably wouldn't cut it.

As he looked at the CT results, the doctor casually asked if he had any previous medical records; hearing that Wen Yan had just done a checkup a few months ago at this very hospital, he pulled up the data to have a look.

After viewing it, the doctor seemed a bit unsure.

"You've got a bit of osteoporosis here, and it looks like multiple joints are having issues..."

He looked Wen Yan over. Thin, early twenties at most, didn't seem all that energetic, though the checkup a few months back had been normal too.

No ankylosing spondylitis, no rheumatoid arthritis, no diabetes or obesity problems...

Then he gave him orders for a blood test and urine test, told Wen Yan to get those checked too.

Wen Yan was a bit puzzled—he could understand a blood test, but what the hell was the urine test for? All he had was bone and joint pain.

He asked, and the doc replied with a barrage of technical mumbo jumbo that made no sense, pretty much fast-talking him into going along.

The gist was, lots of times symptoms don't match the real cause; the reason you feel bone pain could be totally unrelated—maybe it's kidney stones, pain referral so strong that even you can't pinpoint it. If you don't want to do it, you don't have to, but blood and urine tests are both pretty cheap anyway.

So Wen Yan took the form and went to pay.

After Wen Yan left, the doctor picked up the desk phone, dialed the lab, and lowered his voice.

"Hey, Xiao Liu, I've got a patient coming over, name's Wen Yan. I checked his physical exam from a few months back—no other illnesses. I suspect the guy might be taking something. Do me a favor and run a little test."

"Ah, got it, got it. Say no more."

The lab doctor, dead-fish eyes, expressionless and a bit numb, actually perked up at that. He'd been dying to practice some tests, just never got the chance.

A moment later, Wen Yan stared in confusion at the doctor following him around so diligently and responsibly.

It wasn't like he hadn't been here before; last time, every lab doc was exhausted, looked like overworked oxen, told you the instructions then went back to low-power standby mode. But today, this doc was downright enthusiastic.

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