The grey mist of the Evil Infested Ridge swirled with a sentient hunger, swallowing the agonized screams of the Heavenly God Dao Child and the broken, ragdoll form of Si Tu. To the thousands of cultivators watching—from the vagrant practitioners hiding in the brush to the terrified heirs of Ancient Kingdoms—the sound was more harrowing than the roar of a Longevity Spirit beast.
Ling Feng dusted off his hands. The motion was obscenely casual, the gesture of a man who had just finished taking out the kitchen garbage rather than disposing of an Enlightened Being and a genius of a Great Sect.
Behind him, Su Yonghuang watched his broad back, her golden eyes shimmering with complex light. She let out a long, weary sigh, raising a slender hand to massage her temples. Her beautiful, regal face—usually composed with the icy dignity of the Sect Master—was currently a fracture of exasperation and reluctant awe.
"You really don't know the meaning of 'low profile,' do you?" Su Yonghuang murmured, her voice carried on the wind, low enough that only he could hear.
"Low profile is for people who can't back up their trash talk," Ling Feng replied, turning to her with a grin that showed too many teeth. "Besides, think of it as aggressive marketing. The Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect is back in business. We need to make sure everyone knows the brand."
Su Yonghuang shook her head, a faint, helpless smile touching her lips. "Brand... marketing..."
She didn't understand these strange, alien words he often chewed on, but she understood the results. In just a few months, this anomaly of a man had taken their declining sect—a sect that was being bullied by mere sectional rulers—and turned it into a powerhouse that could slap Enlightened Beings into the dirt.
She looked at the disciples behind him.
The Cleansing Incense Seven, once timid and riddled with the insecurity of a fallen lineage, were now puffing their chests out. Their eyes burned with a fierce, predatory confidence. They didn't look like sheep anymore; they looked like wolves following a tiger.
Ling Feng wasn't just teaching them cultivation; he was rewriting their psychology. He was breaking the chains of inferiority that had plagued the sect for thousands of years since the decline of Immortal Emperor Min Ren's legacy.
"You are truly an outrage," Su Yonghuang admitted, her gaze softening. "But... I suppose an outrage is exactly what we needed."
"Glad you agree, my dear," Ling Feng winked, his tone dropping to a playful purr.
Su Yonghuang stiffened, the blood rushing to her porcelain cheeks. "My dear? I am your Sect Master! Show some decorum in front of the juniors!"
"Yeah, yeah. You love it," Ling Feng laughed, turning his attention back to the crowd.
The atmosphere at the entrance was brittle, like dried twigs ready to snap. The true heavyweights had not entered yet, and the vacuum left by Ling Feng's violence was about to be filled.
A low hum permeated the air, vibrating in the chest cavities of every cultivator present.
A golden chariot, forged from celestial steel and drawn by flood dragons, descended from the sky. It parked near the edge of the clearing with the weight of a mountain. Standing atop it was a young man clad in blue dragon robes, his aura surging like a vast, unrestrained ocean. A natural phenomenon of azure clouds hovered above his head, signifying the blessing of the high heavens.
The crowd parted instantly, fear etched on their faces.
"It's him... Heavenly Prince Qingxuan!"
The successor of the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom. A lineage created by an Immortal Emperor, a monster among geniuses.
Heavenly Prince Qingxuan's eyes were sharp, locking onto Ling Feng like a hawk spotting a viper. He was arrogant, yes—he had the right to be—but he wasn't brain-dead like the Dao Child. He had seen Ling Feng dismantle Si Tu. That punch had no Dao Law fluctuations, no Life Wheel activation, no blood energy explosion.
It was pure, inexplicable physics.
"You," Heavenly Prince Qingxuan spoke. His voice wasn't a shout, yet it resonated in everyone's ears like a struck bronze bell. "Which lineage are you from? To possess such physical strength... are you a descendant of a hidden Immortal Physique clan? Or perhaps a bastard of a monstrous beast tribe?"
The crowd held its breath. The Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom was a behemoth that ruled the Grand Middle Territory. Questioning them was usually a death sentence.
Ling Feng picked at his fingernails, looking utterly unimpressed. He let the silence stretch, disrespecting the Prince with every second that ticked by.
"Man, why does everyone in this world need a resume?" Ling Feng sighed, looking at Li Shuangyan. " 'Who is your daddy?' 'What represents your background?' It's so boring. Do they not have hobbies?"
He looked up at Heavenly Prince Qingxuan, a faint sneer on his face. He recalled this loser from the novel. A man who survived far too long, fueled by the shadow of his ancestors.
"I'm Ling Feng," he said, his voice deadpan. "My background is 'None of your damn business.' Satisfied?"
Heavenly Prince Qingxuan's expression darkened instantly. The azure clouds above him began to churn violently, manifesting the roar of a dragon.
"You are strong, I grant you that. But in this world, arrogance without backing is a shortcut to the grave. The Heavenly God Sect and the Heavenly Jewel Kingdom will not rest. Do you truly fear no consequences?"
"Fear?" Ling Feng scoffed, a dry, harsh sound that grated on the ears. "Fear is for losers who can't control the situation. Fear is for people who check under their bed for monsters. I'm the one the monsters check for."
He took a step forward.
VWOOM.
The air around Ling Feng didn't explode with spirit energy; it grew heavy. A suffocating, alien pressure began to leak from his pores. It wasn't the pressure of the Grand Dao, nor the might of the Heavens. It was the Chaos Force. It felt like the void between stars, a predatory energy that viewed the laws of this world as mere suggestions.
Inside his Inner Void, the Green Chaos Emerald began to spin.
[Trait: Space Control - Active]
"And you," Ling Feng pointed a lazy finger at the Prince. "You're asking too many questions. You think because your Kingdom has some Virtuous Paragons buried in the ground you're special? News flash, kid: you're riding on someone else's coattails. So, do me a favor."
Ling Feng's grin turned feral, his eyes flashing with a terrifying emerald light.
"Fuck off."
The silence shattered.
"Presumptuous!" Heavenly Prince Qingxuan roared.
His Imperial Aura exploded. Behind him, the faint image of a primodial Blue Dragon manifested, coiling around the chariot. He was the pride of the Ancient Kingdom; being told to 'fuck off'—a vulgarity he had never even heard before—in front of thousands was a stain on his honor he could not wash away with water.
"You seek death!"
He raised his hand. An ancient artifact—a blue pagoda carved from deep sea divine jade—spun in his palm. It emitted a terrifying pressure, likely a Life Treasure granted by a powerful ancestor, capable of crushing mountains.
"Young Master, wait."
A withered hand placed itself on Qingxuan's shoulder.
Old Man Guan, the unassuming elder standing in the shadow of the Prince, stepped forward. His eyes, usually cloudy and senile-looking, were now clear and deep as abysses. He was an Ancient Saint, a terrifying existence that could suppress this entire region with a single thought.
He looked at Ling Feng. He didn't look at the cultivation base. He looked deeper. His instincts, honed over thousands of years of survival, were screaming at him.
Danger. Unknown. Wrong.
When Old Man Guan looked at Ling Feng, he didn't see a cultivator. He saw a singularity. A chaotic, swirling anomaly that didn't fit into the Dao of the Heavens. It was as if this boy existed outside of the Karma and Destiny of the Nine Worlds.
"Grandpa Guan?" Heavenly Prince Qingxuan frowned, his anger halted by the sudden seriousness of his protector.
"Do not engage," Old Man Guan said softly, his voice traveling only to Heavenly Prince Qingxuan's ears via sound transmission. "This boy... he is strange. That power he used to crush Si Tu... it did not touch the Grand Dao. It bypassed it. Fighting him here, before the main event, is unwise. We are here for the treasures of the Gods, not to police the grievances of the Heavenly Jewel Kingdom."
Heavenly Prince Qingxuan clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He glared at Ling Feng, hate burning in his eyes, but logic prevailed. He lowered the pagoda.
"You are lucky, mongrel. My time is too valuable to waste on a mad dog."
"Run along, little prince," Ling Feng waved his hand dismissively, like shooing a persistent fly. "Don't trip on your dress."
Heavenly Prince Qingxuan's face turned purple, but Old Man Guan dragged him toward the entrance. They vanished into the mist, the Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom choosing to retreat.
The spectators were bewildered.
The Azure Mysterious Ancient Kingdom... backed down?
"He... he actually scared off the Ancient Kingdom..." someone whispered, their voice trembling.
Seeing the strongest party enter, the dam broke.
"We cannot let them get all the treasure!"
"Go! Go!"
The Suppressive Might Noble of the Heavenly Jewel Kingdom, sweating profusely, signaled his remaining men. "Enter! Stay away from that devil Ling Feng! Just find the items and regroup inside!"
They scrambled into the mist, giving Ling Feng a hundred-meter wide berth, terrified he might decide to go "Extreme Bowling" with them next.
Ling Feng scoffed, ignoring the scurrying rats. It was amusing to see that Royal Noble become a chicken. He was another annoying loudmouth that lived far longer than he liked in the original novel.
He turned his head, his gaze landing on a specific spot in the thinning crowd.
Chen Baojiao stood frozen.
The beautiful, fiery princess of the Jewel Pillar Sacred School felt like her world had tilted on its axis. Her hair, dark as the midnight sky, framed a face that was usually set in a scowl of defiance, but was now blank with shock.
Her fiancé, the man her clan had forced her to engage with for political benefits, was gone. Yeeted into a poison fog like a sack of potatoes. By all traditional rights, she should be furious. She should be drawing her sword to avenge her husband-to-be and restore her clan's honor.
But she wasn't.
Her heart was beating a frantic rhythm against her ribs. It wasn't the thud of anger, but the rapid-fire beat of a strange, intoxicating liberation.
Ling Feng walked over to her. The few cultivators still rushing to the ridge parted around him like the Red Sea before Moses. He didn't walk with the heavy, oppressive stride of a high-level cultivator; he walked with a loose, relaxed gait, hands deep in his pockets, looking like he was strolling through a mall rather than a battlefield.
He stopped in front of her. Up close, his presence was overwhelming. He smelled of ozone, fresh rain, and something sharp—like the air before a lightning strike.
"So," Ling Feng said, tilting his head. His green eyes bore into hers, seeing past the defenses she had built up for years. "That guy was a total tool. You're not crying over him, are you?"
"I..." Chen Baojiao stammered. Her fierce demeanor, famous in the cultivation world, crumbled. "He was... the Heavenly God Dao Child. My clan..."
"Your clan sees you as currency," Ling Feng interrupted. His voice dropped the mocking tone, becoming serious, almost gentle. "Crypto. Stocks. Whatever. All they see is a marriage alliance to boost their portfolio. They don't see you."
Chen Baojiao flinched as if struck physically. It was the truth she had whispered to herself in the dark for years, but hearing a stranger say it out loud—stripping away the veneer of 'filial piety' and 'clan duty'—was jarring.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice regaining some of its steel. She raised her chin, her eyes flashing with that defiance he found so appealing. "Are you going to kidnap me? Claim me as a spoil of war? I warn you, I may not be your match, but I will bite your throat out before I submit to another master."
Ling Feng laughed. It wasn't a cruel laugh. It was bright, genuine, and surprisingly warm.
"Hey now, calm down. No need for the drama," Ling Feng grinned. "Forcing women is for pathetic losers who can't get a date. And I don't want a slave. I have enough lackeys."
He gestured vaguely to the Cleansing Incense disciples who were currently gleefully sorting through what they stole from the Heavenly God Sect disciples.
He extended a hand toward her.
"I'm heading in there to rob this place blind. There are treasures in there that'll help with your cultivation. I can tell with a look you're having some problems, correct?"
Baojiao's beautiful eyes widened in genuine shock. "You... with a look, you can just tell? How can you possibly know?"
"I know a lot of things," Ling Feng said mysteriously. (In reality, he had read the wiki page extensively). "Here's the deal. Come with me. Hang out. We'll explore, beat up some monsters, find some loot. If you find something you like, it's yours. No strings attached. Just... a date. A very dangerous, high-stakes date."
"A... date?" Chen Baojiao blinked, completely thrown off balance. The concept was absurd. They were standing on blood-soaked ground, about to enter a death zone filled with ancient horrors.
"Yeah. A date," Ling Feng shrugged. "Better than standing here waiting for your clan elders to sell you to the next arrogant young master, right? Or waiting for that guy I just threw to crawl back out?"
He looked at her, and for the first time, Chen Baojiao saw a man who didn't look at her with lust or greed. He didn't look at her like a prize to be won. He looked at her with invitation. He was offering her a choice.
Behind her, an old man from the Jewel Pillar Sacred School—Shi Gandang—stepped forward nervously. He was a brave man, loyal to Baojiao because her grandfather had saved him, but he was trembling.
"Young Miss, you cannot!" Shi Gandang pleaded. "He is a public enemy! If you go with him, the Heavenly God Sect will implicate us! The Old Ox won't be able to protect you from the wrath of the world!"
Ling Feng's eyes snapped to Shi Gandang. The temperature dropped ten degrees instantly.
Ling Feng respected loyalty, and he knew Shi Gandang was a good guy in the lore. But right now, he was a roadblock. And Ling Feng didn't do roadblocks.
"Who was talking to you?"
Ling Feng didn't shout. He simply let the Red Chaos Emerald in his Inner Void pulse once.
[Trait: Absolute Force]
The pressure that emitted wasn't spiritual; it was a physical weight, like gravity increasing tenfold solely on Shi Gandang's shoulders.
"Let the lady speak."
Shi Gandang choked on his words, his knees buckling. He was terrified by the sudden shift in aggression. This boy was a dormant volcano.
Chen Baojiao looked at Shi Gandang, seeing his fear. She looked back at the empty spot where her fiancé had stood. And despite her own personal goodwill towards Shi Gandang, in the end, she was still looking at the face of the clan that wanted to sell her like cattle.
Then she looked at Ling Feng.
The madman who had destroyed the social order in five minutes just because he felt like it.
One-shotting an Enlightened Being?
Scaring off an Ancient Saint?
Telling a Heavenly Prince to fuck off?
What other prodigy in this world could possibly claim this kind of feat?
What other man had the backbone to stand against the sky for her?
She took a deep breath. A reckless, fiery smile spread across her lips—the smile that made her famous as a supreme beauty, a smile that could topple kingdoms.
"Fine," she said, slapping her hand into his.
"But if you try anything funny, I'll cut it off."
"Fair enough," Ling Feng laughed, closing his fingers around hers. Her hand was soft, contrasting the calluses of a swordswoman, but her grip was strong. "Let's go. We're burning daylight."
He pulled her toward the mist.
Shi Gandang opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. Might truly makes right in the cultivation world. This boy in front of him was a monster. And with his domineering personality, saying anything more would only end in humiliation or death. He could only relent, sighing deeply as he prepared to follow in the shadows, hoping to keep his Young Miss alive.
"Young Noble," Li Shuangyan appeared at his other side. Her expression was cool as ice, her white veil fluttering, though her sharp eyes lingered on their joined hands.
"You are collecting quite the entourage," she noted, her tone neutral but carrying a hidden sharpness.
"Jealous, Shuangyan?" Ling Feng teased, glancing at her with a smirk.
"I am merely concerned about the group order," she replied stiffly. However, the faint pink flush returning to her ears betrayed her composure.
"Don't worry," Ling Feng said, his voice dropping to a smooth, low register that sent shivers down both women's spines. He leaned in slightly, his presence enveloping them. "I've got two hands for a reason."
He winked at Su Yonghuang, who was shaking her head in the background, trying to hide her amusement.
"Alright, team!" Ling Feng shouted, pumping his free fist into the air. "Let's move out! Operation: Loot Everything is a go! If it's shiny, we take it. If it bites, we cook it!"
With the confident stride of a man who owned the world, Ling Feng led his harem and his sect into the swirling, poisonous embrace of the Evil Infested Ridge.