"Alright, stop looking at me like that. Last night... everyone worked hard."

After speaking, he paused, met the instant, bright-eyed, "expectant" gaze of the four, and clearly supplemented in a soft voice:

"You pick the place, it's on me."

As soon as the words fell, it was as if sunlight instantly dispersed the gloom.

"Alright!"

"Long live the captain!"

"Qingzi is really something!"

The resentment on the four faces instantly vanished, and the fatigue and confusion from last night seemed to be swept away by the promise of a feast.

Fang Qingyu looked at the four who suddenly changed expression and started discussing which dishes to order, shoulder-to-shoulder, and shook his head helplessly, though the curve of his mouth deepened slightly.

With their wealth...

How could they possibly care about who pays for this meal?

As the four were fervently discussing.

A figure somehow appeared behind them unnoticed.

Qin Hui was the first to notice, nudging the others with his elbow.

Old Qiao, Qi Hao, and Lv Chen instantly understood, exchanged glances, and smoothly led Jiang Wei, who was still sipping milk with a mischievous smile in her eyes, away from the floor-to-ceiling window, leaving the peaceful space for the newcomer.

Duan Ling moved beside Fang Qingyu, standing shoulder to shoulder, also gazing outside at the city once shrouded in the force field, now bathed in the morning light.

Her voice was low, carrying a calmness from experiencing immense emotional highs and lows:

"Before you officially joined the Divine Management Bureau, before you got to Dragon Spine Camp, he was already talking." Duan Ling paused, as if recalling, "He said he found a rough gem, a true genius. He told us to take care of and be lenient with you once he brought you to the team."

She slightly turned her head, her gaze finally landing on Fang Qingyu's sharp profile, mixed with emotion and indescribable complexity: "Honestly, no one on the team took it too seriously at the time. The Divine Management Bureau has seen too many 'geniuses,' only those who survive and grow are the real deal. Until... you truly came."

Duan Ling's voice carried a subtle respect: "Until you repeatedly acted, breaking our existing perceptions. I then understood that his judgment never missed. The weight of 'genius' he mentioned." Her gaze returned to the outside, voice lowering, full of post-disaster relief and deep gratitude:

"Qingzi... this time, truly thank you. Thank you for bringing him out from that hellish place. Without you..." She didn't finish, but the unsaid implication was heavy.

After speaking, Duan Ling took a deep breath, her body slightly leaning forward, solemnly about to bow to Fang Qingyu.

However, just as she started, a steady, powerful hand swiftly held her arm, stopping her bending motion.

Fang Qingyu turned his head, directly looking into Duan Ling's eyes.

His gaze was exceptionally serious, devoid of any arrogance, only a sense of naturalness:

"Duan sis, there's no need for this." His voice was calm and powerful, "To me, Captain Lin is not just a leader. He's also among those who introduced me to martial arts. Even if you hadn't mentioned those things in the communication, once I knew he was down there, I'd do everything in my power to bring him out."

Having said that, Fang Qingyu paused, glanced at the excited group of Qin Hui discussing in the distance, then returned his gaze to Duan Ling's face: "Besides, since joining the third squad, haven't you and everyone else always shown me considerable care?"

Whether it was initially having Qu Zhe help me familiarize with the process, or fighting for Divine Armament for me, or at the Pantheon headquarters rooftop, Duan Ling directly rallied the entire Dragon Spine Camp to help me regain face...

All these bits and pieces, Fang Qingyu remembered.

Duan Ling was momentarily stunned, then smiled faintly, a mix of relief, comfort, and a hint of imperceptible emotion.

She didn't say any more polite or thankful words, just looked deeply at Fang Qingyu, raised her hand, and patted Fang Qingyu's shoulder twice, the force weighty.

Then she turned, walked relaxedly towards Qin Hui and the others, who were enthusiastically discussing the menu.

It seemed she was also preparing to join this rare post-battle feast discussion.

Fang Qingyu's gaze shifted along Duan Ling's form, ready to walk towards the group by the window, when a clear, calm voice sounded at his side:

"Fang Qingyu."

Fang Qingyu paused, turned towards the voice.

He saw Wei Banmeng had somehow quietly appeared a few steps away.

Dressed in the matte black combat attire without any markings, her ink-black long hair simply tied at the back, a few wisps falling, outlining her perfect profile.

Sunlight streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling window, encircling her in a faint contour light, accentuating her upright posture, her aloof and cold demeanor, like a renowned blade sheathed.

Wei Banmeng stood there, devoid of extra actions, her gaze direct and focused on Fang Qingyu, as if the surrounding clamor was irrelevant to her.

"Hm?" Fang Qingyu responded, a hint of inquiry in his eyes.

There seemed to be quite a few people seeking him out today...

Wei Banmeng got straight to the point, without any preamble, her voice as calm as her unwavering gaze: "Spar with me."

Fang Qingyu's brows instinctively furrowed slightly.

Spar? At this moment?

Observing Wei Banmeng's perfect yet expressionless face, those cold eyes seemed to carry only pure fight intent and exploration, devoid of malice, but also devoid of other emotions.

Considering her strength and potential background, a suspicion quickly arose.

"Spar?" Fang Qingyu's voice calmed down, carrying a hint of inquiry, "Are you from Shangjing too?"

Shangjing's "visitors" always seemed to carry certain intentions.

Wei Banmeng's expression remained calm, she serenely nodded: "Yes."

Directly acknowledged her origin.

But then, she minutely shook her head, added: "But I'm not with the previous two morons."

Those "morons" she referred to were evidently the two Shangjing martial artists Fang Qingyu had instantaneously defeated at the Divine Management Bureau's entrance.

"I'm not interested in Divine Armament," Wei Banmeng emphasized again, her gaze meeting Fang Qingyu's scrutinizing look, her tone flat but carrying an unquestionable purity, "I simply want to spar with you. Your saber, it's strong."

Wei Banmeng's reason was simple, even a bit "martial obsessed."

Purely for the sake of battle itself, to witness the opponent's saber technique.

This reason, coupled with Shangjing's reputation, made it somewhat unconventional.

Fang Qingyu was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on Wei Banmeng's face for a few seconds.

He sensed the purity of fight intent in her words, indeed not seeming fake, devoid of the typical calculation and greed characteristic of some people from Shangjing.

"Alright." Fang Qingyu finally spoke, his voice returning to its usual steady demeanor, "But there's a condition."

Wei Banmeng's ice-cold eyes finally flickered with an extremely subtle ripple, like a small stone cast into a calm lake.

She seemed surprised by Fang Qingyu proposing a condition, but calmly asked: "What condition?"

Fang Qingyu's gaze looked out the window, as if penetrating the city's silhouette, reaching the distant Shangjing.

His voice wasn't loud, but carried an indisputable tone, clearly reaching Wei Banmeng's ears:

"I want the names of all those martial arts halls from Shangjing that have conspired to challenge me." He paused, added, "Every hall involved in plotting, issuing challenges, or planning to, without exception."

The air seemed to freeze momentarily.

Wei Banmeng's eyes showed clear surprise and... understanding.

She seemed to comprehend Fang Qingyu's intention.

Looking at Fang Qingyu's tranquil yet sharp profile, she remained silent for two seconds before slowly speaking, her voice still cold yet carrying a hint of confirmation:

"You plan to challenge the halls?"

Fang Qingyu didn't directly answer, just slightly turned his head, once again looking at Wei Banmeng, the corners of his lips seemed to very slightly turn up, the curve faint, but carrying a formidable sharpness.

He countered:

"The list, in exchange for sparring. Deal or not?"

The morning light fell between them, one side with cold fight intent, the other with peaceful sharpness, a silent collision of unseen aura before the floor-to-ceiling window.

In the distance, the sound of Qin Hui and others discussing the menu quieted, even Jiang Wei clutching her milk momentarily looked on with a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Wei Banmeng stared at Fang Qingyu, with a very slight nod after a moment.

"Deal."

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