A Clear Mind-Onward!

This really left him unable to make heads or tails of things. Literally.

Lin Feng logged out, set down his headset, and stared into space.

He hadn't gotten a clear look at the enemy, but judging by the way the man plucked people's heads off, he was probably tall.

Lin Feng estimated his height. He had to be at least as tall as Shaquille O'Neal.

Possibly even more muscular than Shaq.

Of course, all this assumed the man was simply a hulking brute, with no supernatural factors involved. If he twisted people's heads off through sheer physical strength, he would need some serious muscle.

Once supernatural factors entered the picture, normal reasoning became unreliable.

After all, even Shaq couldn't swing Li Yuanba's twin hammers for long, let alone rampage across a battlefield, slaughtering everyone in his path.

A universal cooldown of one hour.

Lin Feng had grudgingly left the game, feeling rather listless.

He wanted nothing more than to jump right back in, though not to defeat the Head-Taker.

The Head-Taker was a boss, more or less.

Lin Feng figured he wouldn't be a match for him even with a sword in hand.

He was too strong.

His little minions were easy enough to kill, but there were too many of them. Lin Feng needed a way to deal with them.

To kill the boss, Lin Feng would probably have to become a starting-zone sword god, grinding Terracotta Figure monsters for ten years until he reached Sixth or Seventh Rank. Only then could he handle the Head-Taker.

But he wasn't that kind of player.

More importantly, there was still Bull-Head Stockade. This damned game hadn't specified a time limit for completion.

But judging by his limited experience...

He couldn't spend too long on the road.

Stay too long, and danger would come.

He still didn't know whether Li Pusa had been telling the truth. If a flash flood really had washed out the mountain road, he had a problem.

He could only choose another route.

Yin Roadwalking.

Or, as Li Pusa had suggested, fly over.

Whether he could even fly was another question entirely.

Even if he could, Lin Feng wouldn't dare fly in weather like this.

It wasn't about science. Even from a mystical perspective, Lin Feng kept feeling that there was something strange about the downpour over the mountains of Western Hunan. There was something in those clouds.

Going by myths and legends, there might even be a dragon up there.

Taking flight would probably end badly.

As for Yin Roadwalking, he would ask Li Pusa later about the proper way to do it.

With that thought, he put down the gaming device, paced a few steps, stretched his chest and arms, then fired up his computer and quickly searched for keywords such as Yangtongzi, Western Hunan Blood God, and Ghost Yamen.

There was no useful information.

As for Yin Roadwalking, there were all sorts of legends, wildly varied and offering no definitive answer.

He would have to figure out what it actually involved himself.

He glanced at his phone again.

Xu Nian hadn't replied.

She had probably headed back into the mountains.

The air in the mountains was wonderful.

The reception wasn't.

Xu Nian wasn't around, but several of his Governor-tier supporters and viewers were busy tearing into him.

Governors were VIPs in his livestream—the people who paid Lin Feng's bills.

Lin Feng's Governors were a balanced mix of men and women.

Strangely enough, the male and female patrons his streams attracted were split almost fifty-fifty.

Anyone who paid to support him was a patron.

Making money was nothing to be ashamed of.

Lin Feng scrolled through the messages. These Governors had all expressed profound disbelief that he knew swordsmanship.

Some people had praised him too, though not many.

[When did you learn that?]

[Pretty solid stance!]

[What, are you trying to do a try-not-to-laugh challenge too?]

[Planning to switch to lifestyle content? You going to start shilling crap too?]

[Got even hotter? Lin Feng, we'll get married when I come home. You have to wait another three years for me.]

Lin Feng: confused-old-man-on-the-subway-looking-at-his-phone.jpg.

He replied to them one by one, addressing each differently.

[What are you all thinking?]

Lin Feng: [I'm a gaming streamer. I don't sell my body or boyfriend fantasies! Have some self-respect. You there, Strawberryberry, I've refunded your Governor subscription. Check your account.]

Lin Feng took a look at the video of himself practicing swordsmanship. A bunch of longtime viewers were making a ruckus in the comments.

Most expressed their hatred of him for skipping his streams.

Some longtime viewers remained calm.

Other viewers expressed concern about his future streaming career.

Their wording was just a little heated.

[If you love skipping work so much, go tighten screws in a factory.]

[Trash streamer.]

[All flash and no substance. Keep living with your days and nights reversed like this, and you'll drop dead sooner or later.]

[Waiting for your career to tank.]

Yes, those were the versions Lin Feng posted after cleaning up the language.

These affectionate greetings didn't make Lin Feng angry in the slightest.

Report.

Toss the phone aside.

Start Qi Gathering.

An hour of training was still training!

Switch to lifestyle content, his ass.

Did they really think switching to lifestyle content was that easy?

Sure, in theory, lifestyle sponsorship rates were among the highest of all the categories. He might look impressive as a gaming streamer with a million followers, but streaming was a ruthless business. Only a handful ever made it to the top of the food chain.

One ad deal for a major video creator could equal half a year's income for him.

That was how huge the gap was!

Lin Feng was still a long way from the top of the food chain.

Even among the Top 100 creators, a few faded into obscurity every year.

Let alone a streamer like him.

He wasn't poor, but he wasn't rich either.

By this point, Lin Feng had already entered a state of meditative stillness, following the wind as it circled around him.

For now, he couldn't go very far.

There were no unwelcome fellows in his rented apartment.

There were, however, unwelcome cockroaches.

Lin Feng hadn't expected Qi Gathering to have this effect—to let him see where the cockroaches were hiding.

Looking in the direction of the wind, Lin Feng finally spotted clusters of cockroaches feasting on their dead brethren.

Suddenly, even the air he drew into his lungs no longer felt refreshing.

At the sight of the cockroaches, Lin Feng instinctively held his breath. He hadn't expected to hold it for quite so long.

His blood's ability to carry oxygen had improved.

A benefit of cultivation.

All his attention was on the cockroaches.

The dead cockroaches meant the gel bait was working. The gel poisoned one cockroach, then the rest of its nest ate the poisoned corpse, and they all died together.

It would take about a week or two to work.

Lin Feng couldn't wait that long.

An idea suddenly struck him.

Could [Swordsmanship Mastery], combined with his newly acquired [Precise Vision], let him wipe out every cockroach nest?

He acted on the thought immediately, heading downstairs to buy toothpicks. He moved a cabinet aside, and the cockroaches scattered. Lin Feng sent the toothpicks in his hand shooting out at point-blank range!

Precise.

Elegant.

Deadly!

Not a single cockroach escaped!

Lin Feng repeated the process, killing every last cockroach in the apartment before finally letting out a long breath.

His mind was clear!

Gaming, yes!

He ordered takeout, timed it just right, and entered the game.

He opened his eyes. The guide started speaking, but before he could finish, Lin Feng said, "Take the other road."

"Master Daoist, you mustn't..."

"Officer Zhu."

Lin Feng cut him off loudly, calling for Officer Zhu as he strode forward without looking back.

Hundred-Household Officer Zhu understood. With practiced ease, he laid his blade against the guide's neck.

The guide gave in.

The three entered that road, and Lin Feng gestured for the guide to give Hundred-Household Officer Zhu some medicine.

"It's about to rain. Guide, don't throw up in a minute."

The guide: "?"

Before he could understand what the Daoist meant, the Daoist hoisted him onto his shoulder, pressing it into the guide's stomach.

Like carrying a sack.

The guide's face turned green!