This Cleaver Strike Will Ruin Everything

"Indeed, it's a very beautiful work of art."

After a thorough inspection, Yi Feng found no significant practical use for the item.

"However..."

Yi Feng looked down at the fallen leaves on the ground, realizing that summer had passed unnoticed and autumn had arrived.

Autumn in this world was nothing like autumn in his previous life. It was already quite cold, and it would be even colder in winter, with snow covering everything.

For cultivators, such weather had no effect on them.

But for him, a mortal, it was enough to freeze him to death.

And this bead...

"When the temperature drops in a few days, it can be a furnace for me, haha. Clean, hygienic, and hassle-free."

"The most crucial part is saving money on charcoal."

Yi Feng was impressed by his own cleverness. He stretched, got up, and walked to the front hall, where he found Zhong Qing sitting on the threshold, lost in thought.

Yi Feng looked up slightly and noticed that Zhong Qing's attention was focused on the cultivators occasionally flying past in the distance.

"It seems this child still has a heart for cultivation!"

Yi Feng sighed softly.

Hearing him, Zhong Qing quickly got up and respectfully called out, "Greetings, Master."

Yi Feng waved his hand.

Walking up to Zhong Qing with his hands behind his back, Yi Feng looked up at the distant sky and sighed, "I know you have something weighing on your mind."

Zhong Qing was slightly startled.

Yi Feng smiled and simply motioned for him to sit on a stool.

Though leaves fell in autumn, it was also a season of abundant fruits. The street in front of the hall remained bustling with people. The master and disciple sat silently at the entrance of the Martial Arts Hall, with nothing to say to each other.

"Perhaps you don't want to tell me..." Finally, Yi Feng broke the silence.

Zhong Qing turned his gaze towards him.

"But no matter what, I won't stop you. The Qingshan Sect's branches recruit new blood every ten days. If you wish, you can try your luck every ten days!" Yi Feng said.

Zhong Qing clenched his jaw and remained silent.

Yi Feng said nothing more. He watched as the crowd on the street thinned before getting up.

"It's time to cook."

He said.

"Master."

Suddenly, Zhong Qing called out to him.

Yi Feng slowly turned his head, looking at the young boy whose face was chapped by the autumn wind.

"I have a vengeance."

"I have a deep-seated hatred!"

Zhong Qing's eyes turned red, tears welling up in his sockets. He gritted his teeth and said to Yi Feng, as if speaking it required great courage due to the painful memories it might stir.

Yi Feng fell silent.

"My enemy is very powerful, so powerful that I can barely breathe," Zhong Qing said, clutching the knife Yi Feng had given him, his body trembling. "As powerful as the elders, the sect leader, and even the Old Ancestor of the Qingshan Sect!"

Yi Feng's palms tightened unconsciously.

"Only by embarking on the path of cultivation might I have a slim chance..."

Zhong Qing said, looking at him with red eyes.

After a long, long silence, Yi Feng finally nodded.

He turned away.

His eyes were also red.

He felt a pang of bitterness, hatred, and resentment!

Bitterness at the harshness of the world, that Zhong Qing had to endure so much at such a young age; hatred for his own powerlessness, being just a mortal; and resentment towards the unfairness of the Heavenly Dao, as Zhong Qing himself lacked any cultivation aptitude.

Cultivation sects...

Were ultimately too far away!

Figures like the elders and sect leader of the Qingshan Sect were heights unreachable by mortals. As for the Old Ancestor of the Qingshan Sect, mortals only heard rumors and had never seen him...

The next day.

The Green Mountain Hall of the Qingshan Sect.

Old Ancestor Qingshan sat at the head seat, his expression a mixture of excitement and slight embarrassment.

After borrowing the knife yesterday, he had gone into seclusion to train diligently for a day. This peerless divine blade had not disappointed him, directly elevating his combat power by a level.

But because the Martial Intent within was too profound, he couldn't use it flexibly. While practicing intensely, he accidentally cleaved off the Third Elder's palace and nearly killed Wu Jie, the Third Elder's most beloved disciple.

"Cough, cough, cough, I've just gotten a hold of this treasure blade, please don't mind the little mishap."

After a long, long time, Old Ancestor Qingshan looked at the pale-faced master and disciple and softly comforted them.

"It is our sect's honor that the Old Ancestor has obtained this treasure blade. It's just a minor accident, not worth mentioning." Even though he said that, the Third Elder was cursing a million times in his heart.

His palace, not to mention the cost of building it, was filled with countless treasures he'd accumulated through his position as an elder.

With that single cleaver strike, it was all destroyed.

It was heartbreaking!

Wu Jie wasn't faring any better. His originally fair and clean face was now even paler, looking like a living dead man, neither alive nor dead.

What was even more humiliating was that when he was pulled from the ruins, under the intense blade energy, his inner pants were shattered into pieces.

This turned him into a laughingstock of the Qingshan Sect, with people everywhere discussing how much of a bird he was