In a serene pavilion floating on a small lake, a naive-looking girl stood with her gaze fixed on the young man opposite her. The tension in the air was palpable as the man's request hung between them, unspoken yet deafening.
"You want me to—" the girl began, her voice faltering as she tried to comprehend the gravity of his demand. She hesitated, struggling to process the words. "You want me to gouge out my eyes?" she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper, hoping he might correct himself, clarify, or even retract his request. But he did none of those things. He simply stood there, his expression unreadable, waiting for her reply.
If one were to observe the scene from afar, the man might have seemed like a phantom, blending seamlessly into the night. His black cultivator robe, woven from a fabric that seemed to absorb the light, matched his raven-dark hair. This was none other than Feng Zhiming, the Demonic Crow—a name whispered in both fear and awe.
"No, no," he finally replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he reached out, gently lifting her chin so that their eyes met. "I want you to gouge out your eyes and give them to me. Such a special pair of eyes can’t go to waste, now can they?"
The girl’s breath hitched, her mind reeling. "I—I..." she stammered, unable to form coherent words as her heart pounded in her chest.
“Since you have already seen my face,” Feng Zhiming continued, his tone carrying a subtle hint of dissatisfaction, "why would you need those pretty little eyes of yours? Don’t tell me you intend to look at other men.” His hand, which had been holding her chin, dropped to his side as he began to turn away.
"NO, I WOULD NEVER!" The girl’s voice erupted in desperation as she grabbed his shoulders, her fear of losing him outweighing her own self-preservation. She clung to him, terrified he might leave her behind.
Her eyes, a mesmerizing pair—one glowing with the golden warmth of the sun, the other with the cool luminescence of the moon—were not just beautiful; they were said to be able to see through the secrets of heaven and earth. Feng Zhiming’s own red eyes, burning with an otherworldly depth, held hers captive as he spoke again.
“Your actions will tell me," he said, his smile deceptively gentle. "Either you value the power of those eyes, or you value me.”
The girl’s heart raced as she made her choice. With trembling hands, she reached up and, without hesitation, plucked out her eyes. The pain was excruciating, yet she made no sound, not even a whimper. Blood dripped from the empty sockets, some of it staining Feng Zhiming’s robe, but his smile never wavered. She held out her hands, offering her eyes to him, her body trembling uncontrollably from the pain and fear.
Feng Zhiming took the eyes from her hands, studying them for a moment before brushing his fingers over the place where her eyes had been. The bleeding stopped instantly, as if by magic.
"Please don’t be mad," the girl whispered, her voice shaky, her hands reaching out to him as if begging for forgiveness.
"How could I?" Feng Zhiming murmured as he placed the eyes into his storage ring, their light vanishing from the world. He then pulled her into a soft embrace, his tone soothing, almost tender. "After all, I’m not one to hold grudges against the dead."
Before the girl could process his words, a sharp pain pierced her chest. She gasped as she felt a dagger slowly slide into her heart. The life faded from her body almost instantly, her last breath escaping in a quiet, mournful sigh.
Feng Zhiming gently laid her body down, his expression unreadable. He harbored no ill will toward her—she had simply been unfortunate enough to possess something he desired. He hoped that in death, she would curse the heavens rather than him. But even if she cursed him, it wouldn’t matter. The number of people he had laid to rest was beyond counting.
“YOU MAGGOT!” A voice, filled with rage, reverberated through the night, echoing across the lake.
Without hesitation, Feng Zhiming took flight, his form blurring as he sped away. The voice pursued him, distant but relentless. "STOP RUNNING!" the voice demanded, but Feng Zhiming only smirked, continuing to fly, leading his pursuer on a three-hour chase to the edge of a dense forest.
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As he landed at the forest's edge, he finally turned to face the figure closing in on him. An old man, his face twisted in anger, emerged from the shadows.
“What’s the problem?” Feng Zhiming asked, his voice calm, almost mocking. “Can’t you see? She willingly handed me her eyes.”
The old man, his rage tempered by a newfound calculation, responded with cold indifference, “Thank you for saving me the trouble and flying all the way to this forest, void of witnesses.”
Feng Zhiming began to walk backward, his hand raised slightly above his head in a nonchalant gesture. "Stop with the posturing. You wanted the eyes as well. It's your fault you weren't persuasive enough to obtain them. And you let me lead you here on purpose—otherwise, with your speed, you could have caught me immediately."
The old man frowned but did not deny the accusation. "Since when does the Demonic Crow, Feng Zhiming, have the shamelessness to lecture others on morality?"
They continued deeper into the forest, the moon casting long, eerie shadows on the ground. Feng Zhiming’s voice carried a biting edge as he replied, "I have never been a righteous man, but you actually recruited others to steal your granddaughter’s eyes. Something about a woman not deserving a warrior's gift?”
The old man smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nonsense. I’m merely disposing of the bastard who killed my granddaughter. Who would suspect anything else? After all, dead men tell no tales.”
Feng Zhiming stopped walking and slowly extended his hand, revealing the eyes.
The old man's greed flared as he stepped forward, reaching for the precious orbs.
“Indeed, I was a fool for taking this deal,” Feng Zhiming said, his voice tinged with a touch of amusement. “However…”
As he spoke, two glowing eyes appeared in the darkness behind the old man, followed by the silhouette of a massive beast.
“There are fools more foolish than even a fool,” came a deep, growling voice.
The old man’s confidence shattered as he realized what was happening. “Tha—That’s a f-f-fourth order d-d-demon beast…”
A silver-haired wolf, its fur gleaming under the moonlight, stepped forward, its sharp teeth glinting ominously.
Feng Zhiming turned around, respectfully cupping his hands. “Senior, I have brought you an actualized core ready for the taking. This fulfills our deal.”
The old man, realizing the gravity of his situation, tried to flee, but a mysterious force held him in place. Desperation overtook him. "Demonic Crow, please help me! I will give you anything you want!"
The demon beast responded with a cold, dismissive tone. "Leave and never return, puny human."
The old man’s pleas turned to curses as he realized his fate. “I CURSE YOU TO AN ETERNITY OF DESPAIR!” he spat, moments before the beast descended upon him, tearing him apart with savage ferocity.
Feng Zhiming watched the gruesome scene unfold, unmoved. "Wishing me eternal life? Quite a generous man," he remarked dryly.
As the beast devoured the old man, Feng Zhiming kept his distance, observing the wolf closely. He knew the creature might turn on him once it finished, so he suppressed his aura, making himself nearly undetectable.
The wolf began to show signs of weakness and fatigue, its body trembling as it lay down to rest. Feng Zhiming’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Even a mighty fourth-order beast can be brought down by the right ingredient," he whispered to himself.
The wolf's eyes snapped open, filled with rage. "CUNNING HUMANS AND THEIR DASTARDLY TRICKS!" it roared, shaking the entire forest. But it was too late—the poison coursing through its veins took hold, and the beast convulsed violently before collapsing, lifeless.
Feng Zhiming laughed softly as he approached the body. “Seems like there are fools greater than fools after all. Too arrogant to assume there are ways to die other than battle.”
With practiced precision, he reached into the wolf's body and retrieved a glowing orb—the beast’s core. "A gorgeous set of eyes and the core of a fourth-order demon beast. The profit is pretty good this time."
The title of Demonic Crow was not just a moniker; it was a reputation earned through countless acts of deception and treachery. Feng Zhiming had swindled and double-crossed more people than he could count, and his name had become synonymous with misfortune. If a crow entered your life, it was a sign of bad things to come—and Feng Zhiming lived up to that reputation.
He carefully stored the eyes, knowing he would need the right method to implant them later. The core, however, would aid his cultivation immediately.
"The moon sure is beautiful tonight," he murmured, his mood lightened by the night’s success. The moon's glow illuminated the blood on his hands, but he paid it no mind. He was captivated by the serene beauty of the night, the sort of calm that only came after a storm. As he was about to return to his cave, a sudden and overwhelming force froze him in place.
"There you are, Caelum (*)@&," a monotone voice echoed from an unknowable place, reverberating within his mind.
"What the hell?" Feng Zhiming muttered, his heart pounding as he struggled against the unseen force that bound him. Panic surged as he felt his sense of self slipping away, the power that held him tightening its grip.
A blinding white light engulfed him, and in an instant, he vanished from the forest.
When he became aware again, he found himself in complete darkness. His heart raced as he realized he couldn't see anything—not even with his spiritual sense, which usually extended his awareness to a 50-meter radius. It was as if all his senses had been nullified, leaving him utterly vulnerable.
“Kill the person next to you or die.” The same voice from before spoke directly into his mind, its cold, emotionless tone sending chills down his spine.