Dead Fellow Daoist, Not This Poor Daoist

"Did he actually escape?"

Chen Fei sensed the fluctuations of the dark green energy in his hand. Only when Lu Zhichun was nearby would this energy behave like this. Chen Fei had not expected Lu Zhichun to actually escape Mi Village.

Mi Village's rules were an existence so harsh that any outsider found them difficult to resist.

The cultivation method he explained would be learned by Mi Village's villagers in an instant, after which a wave of their origin would be drained away. Then, at night, he catered to their preferences, only for another wave to be drained.

What was even more excessive was that when they learned a new cultivation method the next day, as long as they began listening, their origin would continue to leak away.

Most crucially, their Spiritual Wisdom was suppressed. All their former experience and methods of fighting enemies became useless, leaving only a few instinctive reactions.

Under such circumstances, being able to contend against Mi Village would be the truly strange thing.

In such a situation, escaping Mi Village would require one's own strength to completely surpass Mi Village's, forcibly tearing apart its rules with overwhelming power.

Or one had to be like Chen Fei, possessing a panel that practically hard-countered Mi Village's various rules. There was one more possibility: one had to be truly astonishingly gifted. Even with one's Spiritual Wisdom suppressed, one's comprehension would still pierce the heavens, leaving Mi Village helpless against them.

Thus, sensing that Lu Zhichun had actually escaped Mi Village came as something of a surprise to Chen Fei.

Any martial artist who had broken through to the Aperture Refining Realm as a Rogue Cultivator naturally had their own trump cards. Until the very last moment, one would never know what methods the other party had hidden on