"Nothing happened tonight..."
Hearing this, Lin Feng lightly touched the space between his brows, and a Third Eye appeared.
After several days of "attunement," this eye had developed two states. In one, it appeared, constantly scanning his surroundings at an enormous cost to his vitality and mental energy.
His current life percentage of thirty percent was clear proof.
The eye had another state: "dormancy." Its two lids closed, leaving a thin red line.
It looked as red as a jujube, and rather handsome.
In this dormant state, the eye needed fewer nutrients, allowing it to last longer.
Most of the time, no eye appeared on Lin Feng's forehead.
He still had no idea what dangers this thing posed—this thing the ancient kingdom of Western Xia had dredged from the Yellow River and carefully preserved in a cave of Hell Transformation Murals—to warrant such serious treatment.
Lin Feng looked at "Zong Yang" with his third eye and saw a mass of flesh and tumors growing without order.
Seeing the feng shui master grow an eye and stare at him did not frighten Zong Yang. Lin Feng even saw a trace of eagerness in his gaze.
Not only was he unafraid, he seemed expectant.
Even now, Lin Feng had sensed no malice from him.
Lin Feng flicked the lamp wick with his finger, making the dim light a little brighter. His back was turned to that swollen body, but a magical artifact appeared in his hand.
The Blood-and-Flesh Sacrificial Bell was extremely docile, subdued by Lin Feng's "virtue."
Whenever it showed any rebellious intent, Lin Feng gave it two resounding punches to make it understand its situation and circumstances. Nor would he nurture the Blood-and-Flesh Sacrificial Bell as he did the Demon-Binding Rope.
After all, he had gotten it for free.
If