All the confusion and sorrow in Qin Feng's dark eyes receded like the tide.
In their place was a piercing clarity and icy calm that saw through everything.
The despairing piano music that could tear apart souls, knock Liu Min unconscious, and leave Lin Zhuo struggling to hold on was, to him, like an annoying autumn wind outside the window—gone without a trace once it passed.
Not far away, Gao Tianliang was in the most miserable state.
The golden sun formed from Haoyang Righteous Qi behind him had dimmed drastically and was swaying violently, like a candle flame that could go out at any moment.
The color had drained from Gao Tianliang's handsome face, and sweat had soaked his fringe. He was clearly locked in a brutal tug-of-war against the pervasive piano music.
The Haoyang Orthodox Method he took such pride in was like using a fire hydrant to dispel smog blanketing an entire city when faced with this conceptual corruption—clumsy and inefficient.
Shen Bingyue, though she had stabilized her mind with the secret art of the Ice City, also had an unprecedented gravity and shock in her icy eyes.
"Did he just open his mind and listen to the whispers? This is a Quasi B-Class urban legend! Its resentment is vast enough to burst the brain of anyone in the Wenyan Realm! Is he joking? How could he dare... no, how did he do it?"
Qin Feng unhurriedly walked straight toward the stage at the center of the concert hall, which was shrouded in endless resentment.
There, a slender figure in a white performance gown from the Republic of China era sat before an ancient grand piano with her back to them.
Her silhouette should have been elegant, but it was now slightly twisted by extreme hatred.
The hands