Chapter 117: Song Hai

On Peerless Island, Leng Feng sat quietly on a stool, turning a teacup over and over in his right hand. His eyes were vacant, staring ahead as he contemplated his plans.

"Peerless Island... where should I send them?"

"Where must they be placed so that they can grow at the fastest possible speed?"

Leng Feng pondered in his heart. He already viewed Zhou Yi and the other as his catch; he was merely waiting for them to ripen before he could pluck them. At the mere thought of the gains he would reap once these two fruits were harvested, Leng Feng found his body difficult to control; his blood surged, and he was gripped by an uncontrollable excitement.

Leng Feng was impatient. If he could, he would have had Zhou Yi and the other reach the required level of strength right now so he could harvest them immediately. However, that was clearly impossible.

"Waiting... truly the most agonizing thing in this world," Leng Feng sighed long and deep after a long silence.

"However..." After the sigh, he suddenly furrowed his brow, a thought crossing his mind that brought him a sense of irritation.

"That fellow named Zhou Yi is fine. While his talent is indeed impressive, he remains within a controllable range—he won't be able to stir up any great waves."

"It is that Song Hai..." Leng Feng fell silent. A strange light flickered in his pitch-black pupils, and his heart felt unsettled.

The two he had set his sights on, Zhou Yi and Song Hai—Zhou Yi’s displayed talent was indeed good, but overall, it was exactly that: unexpected, yet not beyond control. But Song Hai was different.

Previously, piqued by curiosity, Leng Feng had tested the two of them upon meeting them. The result was both within his expectations and yet beyond them. Zhou Yi was within expectations; Song Hai was the surprise.

"A Pseudo-Core," Leng Feng muttered. His feelings were complex and difficult to articulate. Whenever he thought of Song Hai, he felt a mix of irritation, excitement, and unease. Although Zhou Yi’s talent was strong, his strength at the time of their meeting was only at the Xiantian realm. At most, relying on his talent, he could rival a Celestial-level cultivator. But that was nothing.

Song Hai, however, was different. His strength was that of a Pseudo-Core. To be at the same age, yet one was only Xiantian while the other had already reached the Pseudo-Core stage—the gap in talent was simply too vast.

The reason for Leng Feng’s unease was precisely Song Hai. Up until now, Song Hai had always given him an unfathomable aura. Although, in his eyes, Song Hai’s strength was still mere dross that could be extinguished with a flick of his hand, for some reason, he could never find peace of mind when thinking of him.

"To reach the Pseudo-Core stage at this age, in a place like this—such talent would not be considered poor even in *that* place," Leng Feng’s eyes flashed with a cold light, his heart turning icy. "If he had been born in that place, with his talent, his current strength should have reached the Golden Core stage, and perhaps not just a grade-less Golden Core; even a first-grade Golden Core would not be impossible!"

"It is a pity. A dragon trapped in shallow waters—what a shame, what a shame!" A cold smirk flickered on Leng Feng’s lips, his eyes suddenly brightening. "Now, everything will benefit me!"

"There is no faster way to grow than through combat. Since that is the case, I shall throw them into that place." Shaking his head to cast away his stray thoughts, he frowned and thought, "However, these two cannot be put together. Accidents—not a single one—must be allowed to happen."

***

Rumble! Rumble!

Within the space of his consciousness, Zhou Yi had become like a machine. With complete focus, he maneuvered his three hundred and sixty-five mental projections, meticulously and rapidly transforming the energy surging into him, spreading the resulting Light of Enlightenment evenly throughout the space.

Under his control, the acupoint spaces expanded at an incredible speed. Within his body, constant roaring sounds echoed—not the waves of an energy river, but the sound of his own blood rushing through his veins.

As his strength increased rapidly, his body underwent a process that could only be described as a rebirth. The expansion of the acupoint spaces began to influence his physical form, causing strands of profound mystery to emerge within him. As these mysteries settled into his blood, it began to transform, each drop absorbing energy to withstand even more of this profound essence.

As the blood absorbed the energy, it grew distinct, becoming more substantial. As it flowed, it began to exhibit a different quality, as if turning from water into liquid mercury, moving with an extraordinary momentum.

Beyond the transformation of his blood, Zhou Yi’s bones, tendons, and skin were also undergoing qualitative changes, driven by the emergence of these profound mysteries and the relentless influx of energy. Because of these changes, a portion of the energy from the river was intercepted and diverted, greatly alleviating Zhou Yi’s immediate predicament.

One could say that this physical transformation bought him a little more time to survive. Yet, this was largely futile, as it did little to help with the massive amount of energy he had recklessly tricked into entering his body.

However, for Zhou Yi, this no longer mattered. In any case, it appeared he would not survive. His only remaining thought was to increase his strength; before he died, he wanted to see just what level he could reach.

The energy absorbed by his physical transformation had bought him some time, and he used every moment to further bolster his power. While transforming the energy, as the roaring of his blood grew louder, Zhou Yi spared a single thought to check the cause. Finding it, he remained expressionless and returned his focus to his cultivation.

He no longer had the time to spare for anything else. The only thing he needed was to transform as much of the incoming energy as possible, and then, before his time ran out, take one last look at his achievements.

The acupoint spaces, the physical transformation, and the Dantian space—all three were occurring simultaneously. Zhou Yi had no energy left to divide.

In the acupoint spaces, the Light of Enlightenment shone continuously; the spaces expanded, and as the profound mysteries emerged, his strength climbed.

His physical transformation—blood, skin, flesh, tendons, and bones—proceeded all at once, devouring energy like a glutton to support the process.

In his Dantian space, his consciousness became formless, controlling the influx of energy, converting it into Dharma power, and using that power to condense the veins of the mountains.

Although it seemed he would not be able to master the Mountain-Heavy Technique, he could not stop the process. If he stopped, that diverted tributary of the energy river would return to the main flow, and his pressure would increase significantly, reducing the time he had left to live.

That, he would not allow.