Her voice remained as gentle as ever.
Yet Feng Youming felt a chill surge from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head. Now he understood. Song Wanníng's words had never meant what he thought she did. Before he could recover from the shock, Song Wanníng's sword flashed, severing one of his legs.
"Aaah—!"
He screamed in agony.
A heartbeat later, his other leg was cut away.
Feng Youming howled in misery, his face twisted in pain, blood pouring from him in a horrifying torrent. He struggled desperately, forcing his head up to glare at Song Wanníng.
"You…"
Song Wanníng suddenly gave him another gentle smile.
The words lodged in his throat. For several seconds he stared at her in shock and terror before forcing out two hoarse syllables.
"Madwoman…"
His whole body trembled. That smile terrified him to his core.
"You lunatic… what are you trying to do?"
Song Wanníng slowly pressed her foot against him, crouching down. Her hand rested lightly on his neck. Watching the tremor in his pupils, she let out a sudden, mocking laugh.
In her past life, Feng Youming had smiled as he severed her legs, treating her pain as a joke while joking around with Ye Chuxue. He had even said, with cruelty that cut deeper than a blade, that he would turn her into a doll and gift her to Ye Chuxue for amusement. If not for the secret realm collapsing—and her being a skilled alchemist—
She might have died in that place, or worse, truly become Ye Chuxue's plaything.
Now, she was simply returning everything to Feng Youming. Her smile softened even further. Her left hand traced from his neck downward, slowly tugging open his robes.
Layer by layer, the garment fell open, revealing his strong, muscular chest.
She met his eyes, clearly seeing her reflection in the depths of his fear.
Beautiful.
Song Wanníng playfully winked—then her sword came down, piercing toward his meridians.
At that instant, Feng Youming finally realized her intent. His face turned deathly pale as he roared in fury and fear.
"Let me go! Let me go now! Song Wanníng, what are you doing?! If you dare touch me, I swear the Feng family will raze your Song family to the ground! Aaah—!"
A meridian snapped.
Feng Youming's scream echoed off the stone walls, his body convulsing. Veins bulged across his skin, his eyes nearly popping from their sockets.
"Song… Wan… níng…"
He spat out her name through gritted teeth—only for another burst of pain to tear through him.
Another meridian severed.
Panic fully overtook him.
Limbs could be regrown with pills.
But meridians… once destroyed, his cultivation was over.
"Let me go… let… go…"
No more arrogance. What use was the Feng family's power when they were not here? Distant water could not put out a nearby fire. If she crippled him, decades of effort would vanish in an instant.
"Aaah—!"
His shrieks filled the stone chamber, over and over, echoing endlessly.
Song Wanníng's smile never faded, her hands moving faster and faster.
"Let me go… I beg… I beg you…"
Feng Youming's bravado shattered.
He was truly afraid now.
Dignity could not keep him alive. If he lived, there would be a day for revenge.
"Aaah—!
Song Wanníng!!! You—aaah—
Let me go—aaah—
I'm begging you—let—"
Her pace quickened.
The more he screamed, the brighter her eyes shone, her expression alight with a dangerous thrill. Watching her enemy beg for mercy was intoxicating.
Before long, realizing she would never spare him, Feng Youming began cursing instead.
One after another, his meridians were severed. He knew he was finished. He hurled venomous insults while bitterly regretting taking this mission at all.
The Patriarch had warned him before departure—not to act rashly, not to underestimate outsiders. But he had been arrogant, dismissing the words, and had even plotted to seize the spiritual vein for himself. If he had simply completed the task and returned home, none of this would have happened. Regret drowned him. His eyes fixed on the pile of spirit stones nearby, and despair closed in completely.
…
When the last meridian was severed, Feng Youming collapsed into a heap like rotting flesh.
His future was gone.
Reaching the Divine Transformation realm had taken him countless years of effort—now all wasted.
He closed his eyes in hopelessness.
When he opened them again, they were cold and empty.
Song Wanníng was still crouched before him.
"I… will never… tell you… anything about the Feng family…"
With nothing left to lose, he sounded almost defiant.
Better to die than live like this.
Song Wanníng only smiled again.
Feng Youming shivered. Even in despair, her smile filled him with fear.
This terror had already carved itself into his very Primordial Soul.
Not even the clan's unfathomable Patriarch had ever made him feel this way.
"Tired, aren't you?"
Song Wanníng gently stroked his head, brushing his blood-soaked hair behind his ear.
"You… what are you… doing…?"
His voice trembled, a flicker of suspicion piercing the despair in his gaze.
"Don't be afraid."
Her warm breath brushed his skin.
Every hair on his body stood on end.
"Heh."
She laughed softly.
Her hand rose, clamped onto his hair, and yanked his head up to meet her gaze.
The smile vanished. Bloodthirsty cruelty replaced it.
"You think that if you keep silent, I can't do anything to you?"
Her grip tightened, a surge of powerful soul force crashing down upon him.
"You… you're going to soul search me?!"
Feng Youming's eyes widened, stunned again by her ruthlessness.
But he quickly scoffed inwardly. They were both in the Divine Transformation realm. Did she really think his soul would be so easily breached?
He was just about to mock her when the soul-searching force bound his Primordial Soul in place.
The glowing circle of energy contracted rapidly until he could no longer move at all.
Impossible.
How could Song Wanníng's soul be so strong?
Something was wrong—terribly wrong!
Shock filled him, but he could do nothing.
His final mental defenses crumbled like sand, leaving him utterly exposed.
It was over.
Truly over.
With no will left to fight, he surrendered.
His complexion grew paler and paler, his gaze duller and duller…
Until at last, all thought left him.
Song Wanníng's expression was grave, her raised hand still pouring energy into the technique.
Feng Youming's memories rose in her mind one by one—
His entire life…
The Feng family's schemes…
The mission that had brought him here…
Even the moment of his birth appeared crystal clear in her mind.
The Feng family…
…was no longer a secret.