"I won't tell you. If you're capable enough, look for yourself. Don't worry about that Elf Queen. She's a homebody; coming to take a look at you was already her limit. What did you do earlier? Did you just wipe out Mingyao's intelligence?"
Feng An leaned against the tree trunk, holding a Flame Tree Leaf between his fingers, and refused to answer Ye Fei's question.
Identity and level weren't really that important. This world was a hodgepodge anyway, and the divisions between levels weren't all that absolute.
There was only one thing he was curious about now: just how had Ye Fei managed to make Mingyao court his own death?
At first, Mingyao's target had been him, and the method Mingyao had come up with was to use the concept of revenge to get him killed when he wouldn't otherwise have awakened.
Even if it failed to kill him, in certain people's calculations, it should probably have destroyed his body, or damaged his cultivation by waking him early.
Yet ever since Ye Fei learned Mingyao's identity and approximate location, Mingyao had started making all sorts of moves he couldn't understand.
Little Daoist and the little dragon brat indeed weren't Snow Mountain players, but that actually had nothing to do with them.
But in Mingyao's understanding, a special mode of interpretation had emerged, devoid of intelligence.
He believed Feng An had wanted to bring his son over from Deserted Island, so he had first tried pulling over Little Daoist, and only brought his son to his side after succeeding...
That fellow had always been highly vigilant, yet under those circumstances, he had overlooked the difference between a dragon and a snake, not even thinking to sense his aura first.
He believed Feng An's strength had already been damaged, confirmed that he