Rubbing his already-stretched-open chin that hung from his face, Feng Wuqing's eyes were filled with blood vessels. He had probably tried such a cruel method for the first time himself.
He was a sword immortal. Without his sword, there was no way he could be my opponent. It was hardly strange for me to beat him mercilessly. With all my strength erupting, even an ordinary Heaven's Dao Realm cultivator would have ended up doing nothing but take a beating.
"Interesting... Hehe. This is getting interesting..." Feng Wuqing's expression was like a bowl of overturned seasonings—shocked, frightened, hateful, and furious, with a hint of madness hidden within. He seemed like someone who could not feel pain. He simply cupped his chin, which was hanging crookedly to one side, with both hands, then relied on his powerful recovery ability to set it back into place.
I watched as the corners of his mouth failed to close, saliva and blood flowing all over his once-clean Daoist robe, yet his expression did not change in the slightest. Instead, I said, "I won't say it a second time. If you don't hand Jiu Fang Ye over, I'll keep dismantling you. You're an old immortal too. As long as the Jiu Fang family still exists, you should be remembered for generations. But now you've ruined your own reputation and become a traitor. Don't you feel regret and pity?"
"Very good. This old man has met someone formidable today—and a junior at the Infinite Realm at that! But whatever you can do to this old man, this old man can do to you as well! If that doesn't work, I can always deal with that child!" After recovering, Feng Wuqing could finally speak without leaking air through his mouth. The hideous sword wound on his shoulder was