Chapter Forty: Cold Edge

“Pfft!” His palm technique was broken, and Mingzhen felt a breath caught in his chest. His body shuddered, his mouth opened, but nothing came out.
In an instant, his outer appearance collapsed, revealing a gaunt, skeletal figure beneath. His ribs protruded sharply from his chest, cheeks hollowed, bearing an uncanny resemblance to those addicts Zhou Yi had seen in his previous life.
Thud!
Stripped of the outer shell and utterly lacking strength, Mingzhen’s body crashed to the ground, the sound rasping like beaten leather.
His vacant eyes stared ahead, consciousness fading. He desperately wished to raise his head to look at Zhou Yi, or turn to find the true culprit behind all this.
In this moment between life and death, Mingzhen finally realized he had been set up. Everything he’d done that day was reckless, not like himself at all.
As his outer appearance vanished and death crept closer, his awareness grew astonishingly clear. Every detail—like reading patterns in the palm of his hand—became vivid and unmistakable.
He understood everything now! Everything was clear! But it was already too late.
All his vital energy had been drained away by the Bodhi Banner, used to sustain his manifested form. With its disappearance, everything else faded as well.
Strength was gone! Now, he lacked even the ability to raise his head, turn, open or close his eyes.
Whether he wished to look at Zhou Yi or search for the true villain, it was beyond him.
“You!” Mingzhen fell to the ground. Zhou Yi hesitated, meaning to greet him, taking a step forward and stirring a gust of wind.
That breeze brushed over Mingzhen’s body, lending him a fleeting strength. He suddenly raised his head, looked at Zhou Yi, and then his entire form dissolved into dust and scattered with the wind.
Zhou Yi stood frozen, rooted to the spot. Mingzhen’s final gaze imprinted itself in his mind—empty, helpless, regretful, sorrowful… a multitude of emotions tangled together, so complex that Zhou Yi could discern every feeling he had ever known.
What kind of eyes were these!
Not only Zhou Yi, but Song Hai, Huang Yue, and Daoist Qiufeng all witnessed those eyes. The moment they saw them, their hearts were shaken to the core.
They were eyes that expressed emotion through life itself. Everything Mingzhen wanted to say, all he could not say, all he hoped to convey, was contained within that gaze.
That was the weight of life. It was the only thing left behind in this world after a person died.

Clap! Clap! Clap!
As everyone was lost in the memory of Mingzhen’s final gaze, a sudden series of slaps rang in their ears.
Startled, the group instinctively turned toward the source of the sound.
A man walked forward slowly, clapping his hands. He wore a white embroidered robe, a strand of beard fluttering beneath his chin, and a few gray hairs streaked through his otherwise jet-black locks, standing out sharply.
Seeing him, everyone was shocked, instantly awakened from their daze.
Daoist Qiufeng and Huang Yue’s pupils contracted, cold sweat breaking out on their backs.
It was him! The very man responsible for everything! The culprit behind it all!
Danger! Extreme danger!
The muscles in Zhou Yi’s body, which had relaxed, now tensed to the utmost. In fact, his legs, arms, torso—every part of him—trembled slightly.
His evolved senses were extraordinarily acute, and he immediately understood how terrifying this newcomer was—far more so than anyone he’d ever encountered. This was the most dangerous, powerful person he’d ever met in his life.
Even his half-brother, the master of Kaoshan Blade Sect, Wen Renying—a superhuman at the transcendent level—was nothing compared to this man.
Most importantly, Zhou Yi could sense malice emanating from him. This meant the newcomer was an enemy, not a friend.
“Who are you?” Zhou Yi forced himself to remain calm, suppressing his nerves, and asked coldly.
No matter what, in this world, strength is everything. With the newcomer’s arrival, all control rested firmly in his hands.
Zhou Yi did not believe that he and Song Hai, no matter how talented or how many golden opportunities they possessed, could escape from this man. Their cultivation time was too short; at best, their combined strength was at the level of a transcendent.
Yet the man before him was more than just transcendent. If there were realms above the transcendent, Zhou Yi would have believed this man belonged to them.
After all, Wen Renying, his half-brother, was a transcendent—and even among transcendent masters, he was formidable, otherwise he could not have led the mighty Kaoshan Blade Sect.

But even Wen Renying paled in comparison to this man, the difference so vast as to be almost unfathomable.
If Wen Renying was a drop of water, then this man was, if not an ocean, at least a lake!
Yes, the gap was that immense. Even after reaching this conclusion, Zhou Yi himself was shocked and incredulous—but it was the truth.
He could feel it: the difference was that great.
“Leng Feng,” the man answered with a smile, glancing at where Huang Yue and Daoist Qiufeng stood.
“What do you want?” Although vastly outmatched, as long as Leng Feng hadn’t attacked on sight, it meant he had another purpose. For now, Zhou Yi and Song Hai were safe. Zhou Yi subtly signaled Song Hai to stay calm, then continued his inquiry.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Huang Yue and Daoist Qiufeng, unnerved by Leng Feng’s gaze, quickly activated their techniques and appeared beside Zhou Yi, joining him in facing Leng Feng.
“Excellent, excellent!” Leng Feng did not reply, instead scrutinizing Zhou Yi and Song Hai, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. The arrival of Huang Yue and Daoist Qiufeng seemed not to matter to him at all.
His gaze was so invasive that Zhou Yi felt chills throughout his body, deeply uncomfortable, but dared not move a muscle. He could only endure the discomfort and wait for an answer.
Without power, this was the helplessness he faced.
At this moment, Zhou Yi desperately longed for strength.
Leng Feng watched for a long while before withdrawing his gaze, smiling and saying to Zhou Yi and Song Hai, “Your talents are exceptional—rare beyond measure. Remarkable, truly remarkable!”
Despite the praise, Zhou Yi’s expression remained unchanged, while alarms rang constantly in his mind, warning him of the danger and malevolence harbored by this man.
Song Hai’s response was similarly cold; he stared at Leng Feng wordlessly, his attitude clear enough.
Faced with their indifference, Leng Feng seemed not to care. He looked at them again, then suddenly his expression shifted, and he asked solemnly, “Do you know about Jueshi Island?”