The decision to use the name "Feng Qingyang" had not been a whim of Feng Xuan's, much less something he had made up on the spot.
It was a decision he had reached after careful consideration.
Although Feng Xuan was fairly strong now, as the saying went, those who wandered the martial world were bound to get cut eventually.
The world of Soul Masters looked infinitely glamorous on the surface, but dark currents ran beneath it. Today's ally could become tomorrow's enemy.
He traveled the continent alone. If he were ever dragged into sectarian grudges or conflicts between powers and hunted under the name "Feng Xuan," that would be a real problem.
The name Feng Xuan could not become widely known just yet. At the very least, it could not spread according to his own wishes.
So, he needed an alias.
After considering it from every angle, the most suitable choice was none other than his teacher's name.
In any case, his teacher Feng Qingyang was now nothing more than a wisp of a remnant soul. Not to mention whether Feng Qingyang would even know about it, even if he did, he probably could not do anything to Feng Xuan.
That old man was currently residing within Feng Xuan's soul, barely hanging on to his last breath. Forget settling scores with him—he would struggle just to leave Feng Xuan's body for a breath of fresh air.
At that thought, Feng Qingyang's thin lips curled into a faint smile, slight in degree yet carrying the mischievous cruelty unique to a young man.
He picked up the drink provided for the bidders on the table and took a light sip.
The cup contained spirit tea specially supplied by the Starlight Auction Hall. Brewed with spirit spring water and supplemented with the leaves