A trace of mockery flashed through Yi Ji's eyes, as though she were laughing at Feng Zhongli for overestimating herself.
"A mere body cultivator dares dream of approaching me?"
As she spoke, her wrist made the slightest deft turn, and she casually flicked the feather fan in her hand toward the charging Feng Zhongli.
There were no towering flames, only a thread of blazing white fire that silently swept out from the edge of the fan.
The fire thread was as thin as a hair, yet incomparably swift. Even Feng Zhongli's divine sense found it difficult to catch.
Feng Zhongli's pupils abruptly contracted. The red-black Killing Intent around her body surged madly and thickened.
Yet the instant that blazing white fire thread touched the Killing Intent, the Killing Intent silently melted away, unable to impede it in the slightest!
At the threshold between life and death, Feng Zhongli displayed a close-combat body cultivator's battle instincts to the fullest. At the critical moment, she forcibly twisted her body aside.
With a soft "hiss," the fire thread grazed past her shoulder blade, taking half the flesh from her shoulder with it. It vaporized and vanished outright, leaving behind a savage wound with scorched, smooth edges.
The mockery at Yi Ji's lips deepened. With another turn of her feather fan, the fire thread that had already swept behind Feng Zhongli immediately changed direction, intending to pursue her and thoroughly eliminate this reckless fool.
Feng Zhongli glanced sideways at the horrifying wound on her left shoulder. Yet there was not the slightest trace of pain in her eyes, nor any lingering fear after surviving a close call—only endless indifference and battle intent that was gradually igniting.
Not only did she not retreat, she instead charged forward again, seizing the fleeting delay as that blazing