Chapter 068: Senior Sister...

"Woo!"
"Woo-woo!!"
"Once, I hated this face with all my being. Now, I miss it with all my heart!"
It was a gentle face, her beauty beyond description. No words in the world, however beautiful, could capture it.
She looked demure, her features rounded, her brows and eyes painted as if by a master. She seemed a woman stepped out from an ancient painting, embodying a serene grace.
If one saw only this face, one would surely think her extraordinary.
Li Dan looked at Zhao Feng, stunned by his bewilderment. "Zhao Feng? What's wrong with you?"
At that moment, Zhao Feng's eyes were bloodshot, his gaze burning red.
"So alike! So alike!"
He kept repeating those words.
Chen Ying also noticed something amiss. "Zhao Feng? What's the matter with you?"
Suddenly, Zhao Feng lunged like a starving wolf.
He threw his arms around Li Dan. "Sister, I've missed you! Woo-woo!"
Li Dan was taken aback, but seeing Zhao Feng weep so bitterly, her heart softened.
She gently stroked his head. "I'm here, Sister is here."
"Woo-woo!"
Suddenly, Zhao Feng stood up. Tears still clung to his eyes, but his expression had turned fierce.
He looked into the distance. "I know you are not her!"
His eyes blazed with hatred as he tilted his head back and roared, "Immortal Sect, I will return!"
"I will drag every immortal down with me!"
"I will make every immortal of the sect bow down!"
"From this day forward, I, Zhao Feng, am a demon! I will kill all the demons in this world!"
"'Heaven-Swallowing Demonic Art'! Operate for me!"
"Boom—boom!"
In an instant, black vapors erupted from Zhao Feng's body. The green spiritual energy in his core turned to black demonic energy in a flash.
"'Heaven-Swallowing Demonic Art,' first phase, begin!"
"Boom—boom!"
The black demonic energy surged, flooding the entire house. Chen Ying and Li Dan were terrified.
The black mist suddenly contracted, gathering into a dense mass, darker and deeper, like a black hole.
Suddenly, a light appeared, as if splitting heaven and earth.
It was a pure white light, boundless like celestial radiance, yet also distant, primordial, the very first light.
Its arrival utterly suppressed the demonic energy.
"Boom!"
The white light struck like lightning, shooting directly into Zhao Feng's mind. His raging emotions were instantly calmed.
Tear stains remained on Zhao Feng's face. "Sister..."
He turned to look at the blue handbag on the bedside, at the little white flower resting there.
That primordial light shone from the tiny flower.
Without a word, Zhao Feng picked up the handbag and left the room.

Night stretched on endlessly.
Chen Ying and Li Dan had no idea what had happened; all they knew was that when they saw Zhao Feng the next day, he had returned to his old, carefree self, his face once again lit by that dazzling, sunny smile.
Three days later.
Zhao Feng's presence had again grown gentle.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!!"
The front door was knocked upon.
Zhao Feng opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing within them. "Qiu He is here!"
He dressed himself and went downstairs.
When he arrived, Qiu He was waiting in the living room. Seeing Zhao Feng descend, Qiu He hurriedly stood up.
Qiu He clasped his hands in greeting. "Master..."
"Mm."
Zhao Feng nodded coldly, making no effort to feign warmth.
Qiu He was a bit puzzled, wondering what had provoked his master today.
With his eyes half closed, Zhao Feng said, "Your timing is perfect. I have something for you."
Qiu He bowed and nodded quickly. "Please instruct me, Master!"
Zhao Feng tapped his finger on the table. "I have an ancient painting I wish to auction. Do you know where I can get a good price?"
Qiu He was surprised. "If it's part of Master's collection, it must be extraordinary!"
Zhao Feng waved dismissively. "It's nothing special."
Qiu He bent slightly. "I know a bit about art myself, Master. May I have a look?"
Zhao Feng produced a bamboo tube and tossed it to him.
Qiu He caught it and carefully opened it, revealing a scroll three feet long.
He took a deep breath and slowly unrolled it.
With a splutter, Qiu He coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"What kind of painting is this?"
He shrieked in terror.
The scroll fell to the ground, revealing a scene of cavalry stretching for a thousand miles.
The painting was a vast expanse, a sea of iron riders, with a crimson sky above and black earth below. Figures in the painting brandished swords, sabers, and spears, resplendent in armor and valor.
This was Zhao Feng's work from the past few days, channeling all his boundless murderous intent into this painting—his very heart and soul.
With spiritual energy, this painting would become a magical artifact, a treasure bound to its creator's life.
Zhao Feng slowly opened his eyes. "How much is it worth?"
Qiu He forced out two words. "Priceless!"
Zhao Feng tossed the painting to him. "Sell it for me."
Qiu He was astonished. "Sell it?"
"Yes."
"This..."
Zhao Feng slowly closed his eyes. "I trust you."

After saying this, Zhao Feng spoke no more.
Cold sweat streamed down Qiu He's back as his mind raced with thoughts—of keeping it for himself, of seizing it—but in the end, he dismissed them all.
He took a deep breath. "Master, wait for my good news!"
"Mm."
Thump-thump-thump!
Qiu He hurried away, never noticing the cruel smile curling at Zhao Feng's lips.
Leaving Zhao Feng's house, Qiu He quickly took out his phone.
"Hello? Young Master Xiang? It's Qiu He."
"Yes, yes! I have an ancient painting here, a treasure beyond price. How much are you willing to offer?"
"Very well, I'll bring it over at once!"
With that done,
Zhao Feng stood on the balcony of the second floor, hands clasped behind his back, gazing toward the hill behind the house. "I will slay every heartless soul in this world—starting with the Xiang family!"
A bloodless battle had begun.
That evening,
Qiu He arrived at an upscale club, clutching the bamboo tube and waiting anxiously.
Knock, knock, knock!
There was a knock at the door.
Qiu He instantly stood up.
Creak.
The door opened, and a slick-haired man with gold-rimmed glasses entered.
Qiu He frowned. "Where is Young Master Xiang?"
The slick-haired man toyed with his glasses, his eyes full of disdain. "Young Master Xiang is with the old master. Just say what you have to say."
Qiu He dared not protest, knowing full well Xiang Tao looked down on him.
He simply took out the bamboo case and handed it to the man.
The latter took it, opening it absentmindedly.
Qiu He smirked, giving no warning.
The man slowly opened the tube, then withdrew the painting.
He unrolled it.
With a spurt, he coughed blood and let out a scream.
He stared at Qiu He in shock. "What is this painting?!"
Qiu He replied coolly, "‘A Thousand Miles of Iron Cavalry’."
"A fine ‘Thousand Miles of Iron Cavalry’! Young Master Xiang will take it and present it to the old master for his seventieth birthday!"
Qiu He sneered. "Wang Niansheng, shouldn't we discuss the price?"
"Yes, yes!" The man called Wang Niansheng instantly changed his demeanor.