"Then we handle him. Accordingly. You are my disciple, Lin Feng. You have the Reincarnation Soul Art. You have the body of a Core Formation cultivator. And you have the ring — my knowledge, my techniques, my guidance. We will deal with this ancestor as we have dealt with every obstacle in the past twelve years."
Lin Feng's lips curved. The smile was cold. Predatory. The expression of Shen Wuji — the upper realm cultivator beneath the mask of Lin Feng.
"Let the ancestor come," he said. "I will kill him. And I will make him my blood pill."
He walked. The corridor stretched before him. His Core Formation qi circulated, steady and strong. His dark eyes were focused. His handsome face was composed.
He passed the garden. The spirit-plum blossoms fell around him — pink and white, the petals drifting in the mountain breeze.
His hand went to his ring. He twisted it again.
"Master," he said. "The woman. The princess."
"What about her?"
