As the flying sword came rushing toward him, Yuan Long thought, "It must be fake. I'll just stand here and let you strike me—can you really kill me with that?" He had forgotten the classic Chinese truth: "A matter doesn't last beyond three times. The first two times it's false; the third time, if it's still false, then the person isn't truly stupid. Yuan Long's lack of wisdom doesn't mean Qin Feng is any less wise." While Yuan Long wasn't paying attention, the flying sword and Qin Feng himself had already transformed into genuine ones. With the sharp sword and full strength, it sliced a wound over a foot long and an inch deep across Yuan Long's shoulder, exposing bone and sending a burst of blood flying. "Ah!" Yuan Long cried out, the intense pain nearly sending him to his knees. He clutched his teeth, glaring at Qin Feng with a mischievous smile. Qin Feng looked at his sword and smiled, "Indeed, no ordinary blade—such a deep cut, yet not a single drop of blood adhered to it. This must be the legendary 'killing without leaving a trace.' By the way, dare I strike you again?" Yuan Long winced, his lips trembling, and snapped, "You Chinese are truly cunning and deceitful! Besides resorting to the most base tricks, what else do you have?" "Stop talking nonsense! The 'stir-the-heat' tactic means nothing to me. Today, I'll have you slaughtered to consecrate my sword." He mimicked Han Yuxuan's earlier actions, throwing the flying sword forward. Yuan Long gasped, "You're a true Chinese cultivator!" "You know quite a bit—then you're even more doomed." As he spoke, his mind drifted, and the sword immediately began to dip downward. So, let's cut to the chase—he quickly focused all his energy on stabilizing the sword. Yuan Long had already been shaken to his core. The sword, wobbling and crooked as it came, sent him into a panic, and he bolted in sheer terror. After all, he was now deep within Jin Ting Mu's fantasy realm. As long as Qin Feng didn't agree, he would never be able to escape. Of course, Qin Feng wouldn't let him go. As the illusion continuously transformed, the rugged terrain ahead grew more pronounced, and Yuan Long charged forward without hesitation, weaving and dodging with remarkable agility. Qin Feng moved steadily, guiding his flying sword to follow behind, knowing that Yuan Long’s transformation time was rapidly running out. Indeed, when Yuan Long strained to leap over a "mound of earth," he grew too exhausted and tumbled heavily from the sky, landing with a solid, dog-licked crash. Qin Feng withdrew the Golden Court Vase, and Yuan Long realized he now lay in a field of wheat—every trace of the earlier earth mound, dry gullies, and thickets had vanished. The only reality left was Qin Feng and the flying sword. "How was it?" Qin Feng smiled as he approached. After losing his transformation ability, Yuan Long’s injuries worsened, and he struggled to rise, attempting several times only to fall each time. His half of his body had now lost sensation. He gasped heavily, struggling to lift his head, and asked, "Qin Feng, who exactly are you? Tell me clearly—let me die with a clear understanding!" "I can reveal my true identity," Qin Feng said, playing with the jade steel sword in his hands. "But here's the catch—there's no such thing as a free meal. You'll have to share some information I'd like to know in return. Specifically, I'd like to know about your Blood Shadow Assassins' intelligence—such as where their headquarters is located, who their leaders are, and so on." Yuan Long's face darkened. "Don't you find your demands rather excessive?" "You're about to die—what more could I possibly ask for? Do you really think, after you're gone, your spirit will return to serve the Blood Shadow as a guardian? Are you really that overestimating yourself?" Qin Feng pressed the tip of the sword against his throat. "You may choose to remain silent. Of course, you won't find out who ultimately kills you." Yuanlong's eyes grew dim. "Alright, I'll tell you the location of the Blood Shadow Killers' headquarters, along with the name of their leader. Beyond that, I simply don't know—no matter how harshly you press me, I won't reveal any more!" "Deal," Qin Feng agreed promptly. He drew out his green steel sword, planted a mechanical time-delay bomb beneath Yuanlong's body, poured gasoline over it, and then lit the fire before heading off. When the flames had burned down sufficiently, the bomb would reduce the remains to fine powder. This method, proven effective recently against the undead when dealing with beings possessing regenerative abilities, now proved particularly useful. Back home, he happily announced to the girls: the enemy was finally defeated, and they could now move freely. He had expected them to shower him with affection and kisses for his tireless efforts, but instead, they all went out shopping together, even extending to him a formal invitation. Oh, brother—would you like to be their chaperone? I'd rather stay at home and just sit around doing nothing. Thus, the once-bustling household quickly became just him, and Chen Yue had also gone out with them. What a pity. Well, just in time—let's make good use of this moment to practice using my flying sword. And don't you dare keep me waiting—I'm going to make you pay for it by sending you straight into the toilet! … At the highway exit, a black executive sedan slowly pulled out of the toll station, heading toward the city. The windows were fitted with dark sun film, making it impossible to see inside from the outside—except for the driver at the front seat. Three passengers sat behind him, one of whom was glaring fiercely, his eyes blazing with anger at the scenery outside. "Brother, calm down a moment," said the person sitting beside him. "I know. Thank you both for helping me avenge my grievances." He raised his left arm—his right hand missing—and spoke with deep resentment. "I will make that couple of dogs pay dearly. I will tear them to pieces!" This was none other than Sun Cheng, who had lost his right hand and his jade seal in the incident. After recovering from his injuries at the monastery, he immediately returned to the plains city with his assistants, eager to seek justice and settle his personal score. The person who had been sitting in the back row, closed-eyed and meditating, slowly opened his eyes and said in a calm tone, "Brother, don't let your anger cloud your judgment. It's merely about avenging ourselves—what about being slaughtered piece by piece? There's no need to go that far." Sun Cheng bowed his head, speaking with respectful tone, "Brother's advice is sound. I should have stayed composed. This time, I'm truly grateful for your assistance. Once this matter is settled, I will surely offer my heartfelt thanks.