Chapter 498: Zhang Fan and Wei Yang! The Sealed Nokia

Yujing City, Hongfu Garden.

Under the night sky, the old residential complex resembled a weary beast crouching in the city’s shadows, with only a few windows casting dim yellow light.

Passing the security booth at the gate, Zhang Fan glanced inside—Liu Fusheng was not on duty tonight.

Come to think of it, he’d been away for nearly half a year and hadn’t seen Uncle Liu in a long time.

“Finally home.”

Seeing the familiar surroundings, Zhang Fan exhaled slightly, his nerves—tense from that damned headline—relaxing a little.

He slipped silently into the stairwell, not triggering a single motion-sensor light, returning to his door like a wraith.

The lock turned; the hinge emitted a faint creak—unmistakably clear in the silent corridor.

“Hm!?”

Suddenly, Zhang Fan’s brow shot up—a smell of dust and unfamiliar odors hit him.

His heart sank; he gently shut the door behind him, didn’t turn on the lights, and scanned the room with only the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

Total chaos.

The living room looked as if swept by a hurricane—chairs and tables overturned, household items scattered everywhere, the sofa slashed open, revealing its yellowed foam.

Every drawer had been yanked out, its contents roughly rummaged through and tossed everywhere.

“I’m fucked…” Zhang Fan’s gaze grew cold.

This home, where he’d lived since age twelve, now resembled nothing but an abandoned, looted ruin.

“Indeed, only an enemy truly understands an enemy,” Zhang Fan murmured.

Before returning, Li Yi had warned him: news of his new status as Master of Wuwei Sect had spread across the world; with the Dao Alliance’s reach, his hometown had surely been searched top to bottom.

Coming back now was merely walking into a trap.

Zhang Fan knew this well—but Yujing City still held too many people and matters he couldn’t abandon.

So he had to return.

“Looks like I’m truly on the run now.”

Looking at the scene before him, Zhang Fan knew his peaceful days were over—broad as heaven and earth were, there was no place left for him.

The Dao sects wouldn’t tolerate him.

Wuwei Sect?

Just another way of roasting him over fire.

Right now, his situation was no better than that of Zhang Lingzong back then—or the Three Corpses Daoist.

“You shouldn’t have come back.”

At that moment, a cold voice echoed from the corner of the living room, slicing through the quiet night.

Zhang Fan didn’t turn around—only looked up at the pale moon outside the window.

“President Wu, are you here to arrest me?” Zhang Fan whispered softly.

As his words faded, a figure emerged from the corner under the moonlight—it was none other than the Chairman of the Jiangnan Province Dao Alliance…

Wu Qingnang!

“Great concealment lies within the marketplace—who would have thought that such a true dragon lurked in my Yujing City?” Wu Qingnang gazed at Zhang Fan’s back, speaking softly.

The young man stood rigidly, exposing his entire back—as if this Chairman of the Jiangnan Province Dao Alliance posed him no threat whatsoever.

Such bold openness, such overwhelming aura, stirred a flicker of pressure in Wu Qingnang.

“President Wu is also a man who hides his true nature,” Zhang Fan said calmly.

“Good, good—no surprise you’re…” Wu Qingnang’s gaze darkened slightly, pausing before continuing.

“Master of Wuwei Sect.”

Zhang Fan remained silent; after a moment, he spoke: “So, who stands before me now—the Chairman of the Jiangnan Province Dao Alliance… or…”

“Wei Yang!?”

At those words, Wu Qingnang’s pupils contracted sharply; a strange expression flickered across his pale face.

“You knew, then,” Wu Qingnang sighed.

He didn’t directly answer Zhang Fan’s question—only shook his head.

“Yujing is now a dragon’s den and tiger’s lair—you shouldn’t have come back.”

“Precisely because it’s a dragon’s den and tiger’s lair, I came back,” Zhang Fan replied, shaking his head.

Too many people here were tied to him.

Jiang Hu, Wen He, Jiang Lai, Xiong Ba, Shi Shougong, Su Shiyu, Sui Chunsheng… all had watched Zhang Fan grow, all shared deep bonds with him.

Now that he’d exploded into the spotlight, he couldn’t just ignore them.

“Some people—you needn’t worry about. Even if they search, they won’t find anything,” Wu Qingnang said gravely.

His implication was clear—he’d already done what needed doing.

“As for your friends, I’ve already arranged their safety.”

At this, Zhang Fan’s heart eased slightly—but he still asked: “Are they safe?”

“Temporarily.”

“If possible, President Wu, please send them to Xijiang Tongluo Mountain,” Zhang Fan paused, then said firmly.

That place was his own territory; as long as he didn’t return, Tongluo Mountain would remain safe.

“Right now, you should be worrying about yourself,” Wu Qingnang said gravely.

“Above has dispatched a special operations team—three prongs converging from Dongshan Province, Huizhou Province, and Jiangnan Province,” Wu Qingnang said, expressionless.

“From what I know, the leader is an Observer-level expert!”

Hearing this, Zhang Fan’s heart lurched.

Outside of a Celestial Master, Observer-level was nearly invincible.

How much cultivation did he even have? The Dao Alliance had sent such a powerhouse—clearly, they took him seriously.

This deployment dwarfed the hunt that pursued his father back then.

“You have only one night. After tonight, you won’t be able to leave the city.”

Wu Qingnang stared at Zhang Fan, his expression grave: “Your reputation is too heavy—even if you escape Yujing City, heaven and earth are vast, yet there’s still no place for you.”

Master of Wuwei Sect—just that title weighed a thousand catties.

It was a title that made the abbots of the Ten Great Dao Mountains turn their heads.

Back then, the Three Corpses Daoist, after inheriting that position, endured countless trials and near-death experiences before achieving great power.

That was a chaotic age—he could still blend in, hiding among the turmoil to snatch a sliver of survival.

Now? Where could he flee? Where could he hide?

“Hm!?”

Zhang Fan fell into thought—then suddenly remembered something Zhang Lingzong had told him.

“Under my bed is a box with a phone. It holds one number—call it when you’re at your wit’s end…”

“Remember—you only get one chance…”

“That’s the escape route I left for you!”

“Escape route… I’m at my wit’s end now.”

Zhang Fan’s heart stirred—he quickly opened his backpack.

“What are you looking for?” Wu Qingnang asked, unable to hold back.

Zhang Fan said nothing—the “escape route” had been with him always.

Finally, he found it—still sealed, untouched—the Nokia.

“Found it,” Zhang Fan’s eyes lit up.

Boom… boom… boom…

At that moment, a violent disturbance surged from afar, drawing Zhang Fan’s gaze.

With his Nascent Soul observing, through the hazy night, a blaze roared skyward—the aura it carried was terrifyingly familiar.

…

At this moment, several streets away, on a long-planned-for-demolition abandoned alley.

Between broken walls and ruins, cold moonlight spilled down, illuminating several figures locked in standoff.