Wang Muxue gritted her teeth, her beautiful eyes blazing with fury, her hatred spreading like wildfire.
"Those heartless bastards from the Feng family are utterly despicable! Fang Han, tell me quickly, where exactly are they hiding? I'll set off to find them right now!"
Her eyes widened in anger, veins throbbing on her forehead, and she forced out the words through clenched teeth.
She knew perfectly well that seeking revenge against Fang Han was nothing but a pipe dream, with absolutely no hope whatsoever.
Fang Han's strength was unfathomable, and his methods were ruthless and decisive. In front of him, I was nothing more than an ant, powerless to fight back.
But she also didn't want to see the Feng family living a carefree life.
If it weren't for those despicable people from the Feng family using the Wang family as pawns and tools, how could they have been so foolish as to come here to avenge Wang Wei, Wang Changlong, and Feng Zhaoyi, who deserved to die long ago? How could her father, Wang Changkong, have died tragically in this undeserved disaster, meeting such a miserable end?
Therefore, her hatred for the Feng family was like a surging river, endless and unending, even surpassing her hatred for Fang Han.
After Fang Han told Wang Muxue where the Feng family was hiding in Yanming City, the woman went straight to the unconscious Wang Jiaer without saying a word, carried him on her back, went to the manor's stable to find a fine horse, mounted it, and rode off towards Yanming City, leaving only a trail of dust in her wake.
"Fang Han, please... please have mercy and let me go... I really know I was wrong, it's all my fault... As long as you don't kill me, all my savings are yours... My storage ring... contains many priceless treasures, if you spare my life, they are all yours..."
Meanwhile, Yun Zhilan, the Grand Elder of the Divine Doctor Valley, who was nailed to the tree trunk, kept pleading with Fang Han.
He was on the verge of death, but he was not dead yet; however, his voice was barely audible.
His cultivation had been completely destroyed by Fang Han, and now he was nothing more than a useless cripple.
But he felt that as long as he could live, even if it was just barely clinging to life, it was better than dying.
However, being nailed alive to this tree trunk like that was an extremely painful experience, worse than death.
He had only brewed one cup of tea when he felt that his body and mind had reached their limit and he could no longer endure this inhuman torture.
Every minute and every second felt like an eternity to him; the excruciating pain felt like a million ants gnawing at his body, making him wish he were dead.
But at this moment, he was pinned down and could hardly move his body at all, so he couldn't even end his own life.
Logically, given his current crippled state, he shouldn't die for several hours, and might even be clinging to life for a day or two. He simply couldn't bear this agony of being unable to live or die any longer; every moment was excruciating for him.
"I'll let you go? Hmph, when you turned me into a medicine man, I endured it for over a month! During that month, I suffered unimaginable pain day and night. My body felt like it was being cut by countless sharp blades, and my soul felt like it was being roasted on fire. Moreover, I was mentally impaired for several years because of it. During those years, I lived in a daze, like a walking corpse, suffering the scorn and humiliation of the world. You only endured it for a short while, and you couldn't take it anymore?"
Fang Han laughed coldly, his laughter filled with mockery and disdain.
His gaze swept over the storage ring on Yun Zhilan's finger and the short sword beside him, and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a meaningful smile: "However, your storage ring and short sword are indeed good things, so I will accept them."
As soon as he finished speaking, Fang Han's divine sense stirred slightly, and in an instant, an invisible power emanated from his body.
Suddenly, a section of the broken sword belonging to Guo Xiao, Yun Zhilan's eldest disciple, seemed to be controlled by an invisible hand, flying up and drawing a sharp arc in the air.
"Pfft!"
With a muffled thud, the broken blade pierced through Yun Zhilan's other shoulder like lightning, and blood gushed out, staining his clothes red.
The short sword, as if summoned by some force, shot out of Yun Zhilan's body with a "whoosh," emitting a crisp clang in the air.
The dagger trembled slightly in the air, shaking off the bloodstains on its blade, which gleamed with a cold and chilling light under the sunlight.
In this way, Yun Zhilan was essentially given a different knife, but he was still firmly nailed to the tree and unable to move an inch.
Yun Zhilan's short sword was a mid-grade spiritual weapon. Although mid-grade spiritual weapons might not be rare for Fang Han now, Fang Han found that the material of this short sword was extremely good and very suitable for refining other magic weapons. Therefore, he planned to confiscate this short sword and keep it as a material for refining weapons in the future.
"This dagger is a mid-grade spiritual weapon. You took it from me, please... please let me go, I really can't take it anymore..."
Yun Zhilan felt that every minute and every second of this torment was like countless sharp blades being repeatedly churning in the cracks of his bones. He really couldn't bear it any longer. His voice, filled with endless despair and pleading, spilled intermittently from his cracked lips.
"Whoosh!"
However, Fang Han merely glanced at him coldly, and with a slight shift in his mind, the short sword that had been hovering in the air instantly transformed into a sharp, cold light, slashing straight at Yun Zhilan's finger like lightning.
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