Feng Zhaoyun was so angry he could practically explode, yet there was nothing he could do. In the end, that young man, clearly furious, gave his head a fierce grind with his knuckles before flicking his sleeve and leaving.
Feng Zhaoyun tried to follow his silhouette, but his vision was so blurry that one person became six. It felt like fireworks were bursting in his eyes—he couldn't make out anything clearly. In the end, he could only give up the effort of trying to remember that figure.
He crawled and dragged himself into the room. Don't ask why he didn't walk—it was because he physically couldn't bear the pain. He moved however much he could crawl. If he had to walk while enduring this agony, he felt like his soul would immediately depart this world.
This place seemed like an ancient world. His current residence was a slightly dilapidated little house. The courtyard was spacious, but I couldn't hide the bleakness and wear. Surrounding it were only trees—it was as if this room was completely isolated from the outside world.
Feng Zhaoyun could feel every muscle in his body aching dully, the pain reaching the bones. Perhaps this was the first time he had ever experienced such physical torment, and to him, it felt like he was dying from the pain. He could even imagine a trail of blood left behind from where he had crawled—utterly horrifying!
Moreover, this godforsaken place—just one glance was enough for Feng Zhaoyun to imagine what a miserable and unloved fate awaited him here.
Ultimately, he didn't even know how to crawl into the house. Eyes wide open, he immediately passed out. Swear to the heavens—he didn't even have time to curse the thing that had brought him here!
He was supposed to be some evil antagonist, right? There's no way any evil villain would get treated this ruthlessly!
Feng—who had never read a comic or novel in his life—Zhaoyun was sure of this!
"Rustle…"
The sound of wind brushing through the leaves rang out. A young man lay on the ground, draped in an outer robe that reached his ankles. A deep red cord was tied around his waist, and his feet were bare. His face was exceptionally striking—pale skin, long lashes that girls would envy, and a healthy flush at the corners of his eyes, like he had applied eyeshadow. His nose was tall and straight, and the corners of his lips naturally curved slightly upward as if smiling. Lying there, he looked like a stunning pink gem, capable of utterly captivating anyone.
Feng Minghan, who had never been allowed to leave his small courtyard in the Feng Clan, was sure that few possessed such beauty even across the entire Cultivation World. It was so ethereal that it became difficult to distinguish whether he was male or female, yet somehow not feminine.
Earlier, when he saw this soul suddenly appear inside his Sea of Consciousness, Feng Minghan even suspected he might be an Elder from the Hehuan Sect.
But how could that be? He was just an unloved illegitimate child in the Feng Clan—what kind of force would bother scheming against someone like him?
Still, regardless of the reason, this person had suddenly appeared in his Sea of Consciousness, so—he must die!
Thinking this, Feng Minghan raised his hand, and a sword appeared out of thin air in his grip. At that exact moment, Feng Zhaoyun, lying on the ground, suddenly frowned, blinked, and opened his eyes.
The sudden absence of pain left him briefly stunned. He opened his eyes wide and exclaimed loudly,
"Whoa, so it was just a dream? What a terrifying nightmare!"
Feng Zhaoyun suddenly sat up.
"Schlick!"
At the exact moment, Feng Minghan's sword thrust forward—and under the combined momentum of both sides, the sword pierced directly through Feng Zhaoyun's heart, stopping only at the hilt.
Fresh blood instantly gushed out, soaking his thin clothes and pressing them tightly against his body. The bright red stain became even more glaring under the light.
Feng Zhaoyun: "..."
Feng Minghan: "..."
The two of them just stared at each other in silence, wide-eyed.
"You… you…" Feng Zhaoyun looked at the young man before him, utterly speechless. The pain was so intense that he was about to pass out again. No—he'd been stabbed in the heart, right? He was going to die. He was going to die.
But the script didn't say anything about dying on the first day!
Was that damned thing that brought him here a total fraud?!
"Schlick!"
Feng Minghan suddenly yanked his sword out. Feng Zhaoyun could feel fresh blood gush from the corner of his lips, spraying out along the blade and flying as far as three meters—what a terrifying sight!
What is wrong with people in this world? All they ever do is fight and kill!
"Thud!"
Feng Zhaoyun's body collapsed powerlessly to the ground. His limbs sprawled out as he stared blankly up at the gloomy sky, muttering to himself:
"Nightmares come in back-to-back sequences now? Huhuhu, I don't want to die… I can't die! It's not time for my character to die yet!"
Feng Minghan watched the other lying on the ground, muttering and bawling, his face covered in tears and snot. It didn't suit that pretty face in the slightest. Sitting on the ground, Feng Minghan's gaze was icy cold, showing not a shred of sympathy for someone about to die.
The Sea of Consciousness was a private and dangerous place—if someone dared appear there, they should be prepared to be killed! Besides, this person didn't even seem like a cultivator at all. He looked more like a regular person. Even after being stabbed, he didn't fight back.
But in the end, that was fine. Feng Minghan himself wasn't in great shape, either. He had been beaten into unconsciousness, and even his soul had fallen into deep slumber as a means of self-preservation. Only when he suddenly sensed an intruder in his Sea of Consciousness, he was forcefully jolted awake. Right now, he honestly didn't have much strength left.
Feng Minghan's gaze remained cold as he looked at Feng Zhaoyun, but gradually, that coldness turned to shock and disbelief. His body jerked upright as if he were about to stab Feng Zhaoyun several more times. Unfortunately, he was far too weak. The moment he stood up, he staggered and fell right back down.
At the same time, Feng Zhaoyun noticed something miraculous.
The pain was gone!
He instinctively touched the wound on his chest, only to find it had already healed. No more blood!
Oh my god… could it be… can I make my words come true?!
With that thought, Feng Zhaoyun sprang up, completely free of pain. Looking down at the dull, gray ground beneath his feet, he muttered:
"Let some grass grow. This color is kind of ugly."
Then, under Feng Minghan's disbelieving gaze, the grass did sprout up—a lush, green carpet!
"Impossible!" Feng Minghan roared. What the hell is going on?!
This was his Sea of Consciousness, so how could someone else control it so effortlessly?!
Feng Zhaoyun finally looked at Feng Minghan, slumped on the ground. The man's face was drenched in cold sweat, his lips pale, his skin ghostly white, and even his fingertips were trembling like someone on the brink of death.
Feng Zhaoyun didn't hesitate in the slightest. He walked right up to him and delivered a powerful kick—with everything he had!
After all, this guy had stabbed him straight through the heart just a moment ago! There was no way Feng Zhaoyun would feel even a shred of kindness toward him. If he had a sword in hand, he would've stabbed the guy ten times over already!
Never in his life did Feng Minghan imagine that one day, he would get kicked through his own Sea of Consciousness. But at this point, he was so weak he couldn't even get up. He could only glare at Feng Zhaoyun, pointing a trembling finger at him:
"You… you… just what are you…"
Before he could finish the sentence, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out cold. His hands fell limp by his sides, and at a glance, he didn't look much different from a corpse.
Feng Zhaoyun: "…"
Wait a second… did I just kill someone?!