Chapter 41: What's the Use of Killing? (1)

  In the blink of an eye, another decade has passed. Under the careful guidance of Xingchenzi and Zhantian, Yifeng's cultivation soared all the way up, but after reaching the late stage of fusion, he stopped making progress, unable to make even a tiny step forward. And as for the Starlight Sword Technique, he still couldn't grasp its essence.

  "For this, Master Xingchenzi only said: 'You have encountered a bottleneck, and it cannot be broken through without diligent cultivation. Go down the mountain to practice, and casually find some materials for refining your life-bound flying sword during the Golden Elixir period.'"

  Before leaving, Xingchenzi gave several silver money spirit stones to facilitate expenses on the road to Yifeng.

  Thirty years, a night's dream, as if separated from the world. Out of Fei Lushan's Yi Feng, his heart was filled with confusion, not knowing where to go or what to do. Xing Chenzi also only said before sending him off that he must not be too attached to worldly affairs and must return within twenty years, without much else being said.

  Going down the mountain is also to broaden one's horizons and elevate one's mood. Yifeng simply doesn't bother with entanglements, taking it one step at a time.

  Unconsciously, Yi Feng had arrived at the place he was most familiar with besides Fei Lou Shan - Sheng Jing City. Before entering the city, Yi Feng first went to the old beggar's grave to pay his respects, but then remembered that he had promised to avenge him.

  However, time flies and thirty years have passed in the blink of an eye. Now that I possess the power to sweep through the secular martial world, I still don't know who my enemy is. Of course, I do know, but it's likely that my enemy may not even be among the living anymore.

  Ordinary people do not have the same long lifespan as cultivators, and seventy is already considered old age. Even if a warrior's lifespan is slightly longer, it is still difficult to exceed one hundred years. Moreover, although warriors are physically strong and less prone to illness, they often meet with violent deaths, and their lives may not be better than those of ordinary people.

  Yi Feng entered the Holy City with a sense of guilt towards the old beggar, and saw that the prosperity was still there, but couldn't help feeling a sense of change.

  On the main street, people are crowded together, and some tattered beggars keep chasing after those in luxurious clothes to beg.

  A thin and frail little beggar, with clothes that barely covered his body, a pale yellow complexion, almost identical to Yi Feng's when he was young. The only difference was that he was much more diligent than Yi Feng had been back then, nearly every time he saw someone, he would stretch out his dirty little hand.

  Yi Feng shook his head and smiled wryly —

  There is a gap between the rich and the poor everywhere, there are beggars everywhere, even in societies that were civilized and developed in their past lives.

  On the crowded and almost impassable street, a white horse was rushing towards Yi Feng. Its speed was like a white arrow, causing people in front of it to panic and dodge, and those who were slower would be trampled by its hooves.

  That little beggar was pulling someone to ask for money, only to have time to exclaim, the horse had already arrived in front of him, and the person was also hit, with a broken head and bleeding, on the verge of death.

  The horse stopped briefly, and on its back was a handsome young man with a look of disdain on his face. He scolded the frightened little beggar: "You really don't have eyes, blocking the way in the middle of the road, looking for death!"

  After scolding, the young master took out a brocade bag from his bosom, took out a piece of silver and threw it on the ground, saying: "Here, take it to buy a coffin and bury yourself."

  Then, the young master turned his horse's head, intending to leave, but the reins were tightly pulled by someone.

  The young master lowered his head to look, and by the side of the white horse, a youth who looked about the same age as himself was staring at him with a face full of anger. The young master saw that this person had an icy face, with flames of anger already visible in his eyes, and thinking of his own noble identity, he couldn't help but shout loudly: "Where did this little brat come from, daring to block the way of Young Master! Don't you quickly scram!"

  The one holding the reins was Yi Feng, who used to be a beggar. He said in a bland tone: "You hit someone and think you can just walk away? Maybe no one would have dared to ask about this in the past, but since I'm the one you bumped into, you can only blame your bad luck! Get down for me now!"

  As he spoke, Yi Feng exerted a slight force and slapped the horse's back with his palm. The white horse was fierce, but Yi Feng's slap was like a giant mountain pressing down on it, and it couldn't withstand the weight of that force. Its four legs buckled instantly, and the young master fell off the horse's back.

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