Ye Shuang and Ling Lin gulped slightly.
Looking at the man's imposing back and sensing that terrifying pressure from moments ago, they suddenly didn't dare to speak.
They just stood there meekly, almost shrinking into themselves.
Li Feng, who seemed lost in thought for a while, finally sighed softly and gently closed the corpse's eyes as he murmured,
"…Don't worry, fellow disciple. Leave the rest to me."
The corpse's eyes slowly shut.
And perhaps it was just his imagination, but the expression....once twisted in fear and terror seemed to soften into something like a man drifting into a gentle sleep.
Li Feng rose slowly, his fist tightening.
His gaze narrowed… not with sorrow or grief, but with a cold, simmering anger that subtly shifted the air around him.
"Fire Yang Sect trash…" he muttered, voice low and frighteningly calm.
But when he turned, and caught the sight of Ling Lin and Ye Shuang's nervous expressions.
He exhaled and offered them an apologetic smile.
