Zhao Feng landed and looked down at Xiang Wentian, who lay on the ground with shattered bones and torn tendons.
"Who exactly are you?"
Using the Demonic Sect's secret blood-burning art clearly required extremely profound internal cultivation in its arts, something that could not be achieved overnight.
Combined with the fact that this "Xiang Wentian" did not recognize him, that made it certain the man was an impostor.
"Where did the real Xiang Wentian go? Why were you impersonating him?"
"Hahahaha!" "Xiang Wentian" let out a wild, piercing laugh.
"You'll never know..." He coughed up great mouthfuls of clotted blood and pieces of his organs, then his head lolled to one side and he stopped breathing.
Zhao Feng examined his corpse, then struck the vulnerable point at the back of his head.
Crack!
The corpse's skeletal structure and face underwent a bizarre transformation, turning him into a small, thin, dark-skinned man.
"Just as I thought..." This man had clearly practiced some secret art that altered his face and bones. Ordinary people could not see through it, but Zhao Feng, who was proficient in the Bone-Shift Shape-Changing Art, had still identified its vulnerable point.
Zhao Feng searched him, found a treasure box, and opened it.
Inside was a round object the size of a walnut, wrapped in a translucent, grayish-green wooden membrane as thin as a cicada's wing. Extremely fine silver-green markings, like the veins of a leaf, covered the membrane. Within it was a viscous yet flowing jade-green liquid, uneven in shade, with lighter green points of light suspended inside.
"This is indeed the Wood Marrow Heartflow." Delight stirred in Zhao Feng's heart.
He then searched the man's robes and found fifty thousand taels in banknotes, along with several bottles of high-grade medicinal pills.
At that moment, Fang Han arrived