Nan Feng: Yu Xiaogang is a piece of shit

The bedchamber was in complete disarray.

Bibi Dong slumped on the floor, her purple nightgown spread out like withered petals. Her eyes were hollow, her tears long dried, leaving only a face etched with exhaustion and bewilderment.

"Why did you have to say those things..."

Bibi Dong's voice was hoarse. "Trampling my last shred of dignity underfoot, tearing open my ugliest scars, and forcing me to face that foolish version of myself..."

"Is this your goal, Nan Feng?"

"Simply to... mock me?"

"Mockery?"

Within the Sea of Consciousness, Nan Feng's voice became unnaturally calm, even cold. "I don't have the leisure, nor the interest."

"Bibi Dong, get one thing straight."

"Right now, we are grasshoppers tied to the same rope—a symbiotic pair where we either thrive together or perish together. If your mind breaks, I go down with you."

"And these so-called scars, this so-called past of yours, are your greatest weaknesses and the biggest holes in our ship!"

"Qian Xunji is already dead, yet he clings to you like a ghost, forcing you to live in the past. And that cowardly, incompetent Yu Xiaogang has actually become the only 'white moonlight' in your heart? The final light you use to resist the darkness?"

"It is ridiculous, and it is dangerous."

Bibi Dong gritted her teeth. "My affairs are none of your concern."

"None of my concern?"

Nan Feng let out a cold laugh. "Do you think I want to care? We both know how terrifying the Rakshasa Secret Realm is. That place is a factory for manufacturing lunatics; it will constantly amplify your inner obsessions, batter your limits of reason, and attempt to turn you into a madman who knows only slaughter and destruction."

"I admit, your hatred for Qian Xunji is intense—intense enough to serve as an anchor, keeping you grounded against the onslaught of those evil thoughts."

"But!"

Nan Feng leaned abruptly toward Bibi Dong's consciousness, his eyes locking onto hers.

"The more you rely on this hatred, the tighter it will bind you!"

"If you hate a dead man and hate your own past, you will forever be trapped in that dark, secret chamber, never able to walk out!"

"How far can someone go if they only look back to chew on their own pain?"

"What's even more terrifying is..."

Nan Feng pointed to the area over Bibi Dong's heart. "The Rakshasa Secret Realm is best at exploiting the weaknesses of human nature. It will infinitely amplify your obsessions and distort your perception."

"If you don't think this through, if you don't bury that foolish self once and for all..."

"Under the day-and-night erosion of those evil thoughts, your hatred for Qian Xunji will grow increasingly insane, eventually turning you into a monster who stops at nothing for revenge."

"At the same time, that ridiculous love you hold for Yu Xiaogang will be infinitely beautified and elevated!"

"You will begin to self-hypnotize, imagining that cowardly man who ran away as a tragic hero forced by circumstance, and imagining his pathetic talent as earth-shattering wisdom."

"You will imagine him as the most perfect, most devoted, and most helpless victim in the world. You will beautify that immature, youthful affection into a legendary romance that shakes the heavens and moves the earth!"

"Even if that guy is actually nothing more than a pile of mud that can't be plastered onto a wall, a pile of foul-smelling filth!"

"You will still hold it in your palms like a treasure, even willing to destroy everything for his sake!"

"I..."

Bibi Dong's pupils constricted. She instinctively wanted to retort, only to find herself feeling guilty.

Because... Nan Feng was right.

Over these years, as her hatred deepened, her longing for Yu Xiaogang had indeed grown more intense.

Whenever the night was deep and silent, she would recall the beauty of those years over and over, even constantly beautifying Yu Xiaogang's image in her mind, making excuses for his cowardice and finding reasons for his incompetence.

Was this normal?

She used to think it was normal—that it was love.

But now, hearing it put this way by Nan Feng...

"I can't stand this!"

Nan Feng waved his hand with an expression of utter disgust. "I went to such lengths, crawling out of that hellhole called Death Canyon, scheming against you, scheming against Qian Xunji, and helping you seize the throne of the Pope—for what?"

"To become a god! To control my own destiny! To stand at the pinnacle of this world!"

"In Death Canyon, I was the sole master. In the human world, I will be the supreme Pope."

"Even if I reach the God Realm, I will never be anyone's lackey!"

"What I want is absolute freedom, power that transcends everything!"

"And you, in this state..."

Nan Feng struck without mercy. "If you don't untie these knots, if you don't cut out that rotting flesh, the hatred you rely on now will become your greatest inner demon, the biggest stumbling block on your path to godhood!"

"In this life, that is all you will ever see!"

"Even if you truly become the Rakshasa God, you will have merely traded one secret chamber for a larger one, continuing to be nothing more than a mad dog filled with resentment!"

"Are you willing to be a dog?"

Bibi Dong stared blankly at Nan Feng, listening to that deafening question.

Willing?

Of course not!

She, Bibi Dong, was born proud. Even if she were to fall into the mire, she would be the most poisonous poppy, never begging for pity from anyone!

"Haa..."

After a long while, Bibi Dong let out a long, ragged breath and raised her hand to wipe the undried tear tracks from her cheeks.

"Even if everything you said is true, even if you did it to make me wake up..."

Bibi Dong gritted her teeth, saying each word with deliberate force: "That still doesn't change the fact that you are a despicable, base, and nauseating bastard!"

"Using my scars as a weapon to attack me, watching me weep in pain—you must be very pleased with yourself, right?"

"Pleased? I wouldn't call it that."

In the Sea of Consciousness, Nan Feng shrugged, his expression indifferent. "As for being despicable and base... this is merely the beginning. In the days to come, you will see me use even more unscrupulous means and witness an even more nauseating side of me."

"Just like today."

Nan Feng pointed outward. "I used every ounce of my ability to incite the crowd on the plaza, stirring up the greed of those soul masters and igniting the bloodlust of those elders. Did you think I did it for the glory of Martial Soul Hall? Or to avenge Qian Xunji?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I only did it to get them moving, to turn them into the blades in my hands."

"As for whether these blades will chip, or how many of those screaming fools charging toward the Clear Sky Sect will die, that is not within my scope of consideration."

"Regardless of how loud their slogans are, they are fighting for their own desires, for wealth and status. If they win, I give them rewards; if they lose, it is simply because they are incompetent."

Bibi Dong frowned slightly. Although she agreed with the law of the jungle, Nan Feng's attitude—treating human life like blades of grass and viewing people purely as tools—still sent a shiver down her spine.

"Aren't you afraid of losing control?" Bibi Dong said coldly. "Launching a war so rashly, without even a detailed follow-up plan. If you encounter an unexpected turn of events..."

"What such thing as a foolproof plan exists?" Nan Feng interrupted her.

"What is the most important thing for success?"

"Is it a seamless plan? Or foolproof preparation? Or perhaps having everything ready except for the east wind?"

"No!"

"It is action!"

"I have never liked to deliberate before acting, because plans can never keep up with changes. By the time you have calculated everything, the opportunity has already slipped away!"

"I prefer to move first."

"Stir the water first, light the fire first, flip the table first!"

"Hesitation never leads to great things, because rewards and risks are always directly proportional. Those who are unwilling to take any risks are only fit to eat dust behind others; they will never achieve massive success."

Bibi Dong listened to this heterodox theory, remained silent for a moment, and then sneered:

"So, you are a gambler through and through."

"For the sake of so-called success and so-called profit, you can push everyone onto the gambling table, not even hesitating to stake the entirety of Martial Soul Hall."

"A gambler?"

Nan Feng paused, then smiled—a brilliant, radiant smile, as if this were the highest form of praise.

"That's right, you could say that."

"I am indeed a gambler."

"However..."

Nan Feng raised a finger and shook it gently, a glimmer of shrewdness and cunning flashing in his eyes:

"You got one thing wrong."

"Although I love to gamble, I never gamble with my own life."

"The chips I use... are always other people's lives."

Bibi Dong frowned slightly.

"Just like when we killed Qian Xunji," Nan Feng said softly. "You were itching to rush in and tear him apart back then, but why did I stop you? Why did I force you to play out that scene of a 'loving mother and filial daughter'? Why did I insist on holding Qian Renxue as a protective talisman before making a move?"

"Because back then, it was we who were on the gambling table! If we lost, it was our heads on the line!"

"In a game like that, I only place a bet when I have a hundred percent certainty and a margin for error."

"But today is different."

Nan Feng spread his hands:

"Attacking the Clear Sky Sect today means letting those elders and soul masters risk their lives. If they lose, they die; if they win, we reap the rewards."

"Why wouldn't I gamble in a game where I use someone else's chips to secure our own interests?"

"Even if there is only a ten percent chance of winning, I would still go all in!"

"Because if I lose, I lose nothing, and if I win, I make a fortune!"

"..."