"Old Zhou, don't worry, I will definitely avenge you!"
Qi Zhilin stood a few steps away, silently gazing at Old Zhou's unseeing eyes, his gaze revealing endless coldness and resolve.
However, despite saying this, he made no move to go forward and close Old Zhou's eyes.
Perhaps for Qi Zhilin, anger and hatred had already taken over his heart, leaving him no time to care about anything else.
Qi Zhilin frowned, his heart filled with doubt and worry. He carefully observed his surroundings and suddenly noticed traces of blood spreading on the ground.
The bloodstains seemed to point in a specific direction, which alerted Qi Zhilin.
He decided to follow the trail of blood, hoping to find some clues or answers.
After walking about half a mile, he was surprised to find a corpse. After identification, he confirmed that the corpse belonged to Ah Hu, a warrior from Qi Xiang's hunting group.
This discovery weighed heavily on his mind, making him realize that the situation might be more serious than he had imagined.
Qi Zhilin continued along the trail of blood, each step filled with caution.
As he ventured deeper, more corpses came into view, confirming his suspicions—a fierce battle had taken place here.
His mood grew increasingly heavy, and he became worried about the safety of Qi Xiang and the others.
After Qi Zhilin ventured more than ten miles into the Daheishan Mountains, he finally found Qi Fei and Qi Xiang under a large tree. They sat there leaning against each other, heads bowed, their bodies covered in wounds, without making a sound.
"Ah Fei, Ah Xiang!"
Qi Zhilin's voice was filled with terror and despair. His eyes were wide open, and tears blurred his vision.
His body trembled, and he could barely stand, but he still struggled forward with only one thought in his mind: he had to save his sons.
He dropped the bag full of money in his hand, which contained the wealth he had painstakingly accumulated over the years, but now it seemed meaningless.
His eyes were fixed on two figures lying on the ground—his beloved sons. His steps were unsteady yet resolute, each step filled with endless pain and anxiety.
When he finally reached his two sons, his heart sank to the bottom. Ah Fei and Ah Xiang lay quietly on the ground, motionless, their faces as pale as paper.
Qi Zhilin reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked their faces, but he could no longer feel their breath. His lips trembled, but he could not utter a word.
Just then, a slight buzzing sound entered his ears.
The sound was like a vibration in the air, barely perceptible, but Qi Zhilin, a sixth-rank martial artist, immediately sensed the abnormality with his keen perception.
He suddenly raised his head, looked around warily, and a sense of foreboding welled up in his heart.
"snort--"
Qi Zhilin groaned, his face instantly turning ashen, large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, and his body swaying precariously.
It felt as if countless tiny needles were piercing his mind, causing him almost unbearable pain.
But he didn't collapse immediately; instead, he stubbornly shook his head, trying to shake off the discomfort.
However, just as he regained some clarity, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his feet, as if something had pierced them.
"Pop pop—"
However, a martial artist at the sixth-grade organ refinement realm possesses an extremely powerful physical body, and Qi Zhilin directly used the bones in the soles of his feet to block the piercing object.
Immediately afterwards, he used his internal energy to force them out from under his feet, and they turned out to be two gleaming silver needles!
These two needles were extremely sharp, gleaming with a cold light, and were clearly not ordinary concealed weapons.
"Chen Feng, come out here!" Qi Zhilin shouted angrily, his voice echoing throughout the mountains and forests.
His eyes were filled with murderous intent and anger as he looked around, trying to find traces of the attacker.
At this moment, he was like a wounded wild beast, exuding a fierce aura that made people afraid to approach him easily.
Qi Zhilin knew in his heart that the person who could launch such a precise sneak attack on him must be a master, and that they had used such an insidious method as silver needles.
He secretly vowed that if he found the attacker, he would make him pay the price.
At this moment, Qi Zhilin demonstrated the formidable strength and keen insight of a sixth-grade internal organ refinement martial artist.
Despite being ambushed, he did not panic but reacted quickly and remained vigilant, preparing to deal with any further attacks that might follow.
"boom--"
Just then, a violent roar suddenly erupted from the woods not far away, like a thunderclap ripping through the night sky, making people's eardrums ache.
Then, Hun Sen's voice rang out: "Old Qi, he's here. Come quick!" His voice was filled with anxiety and tension, as if he had encountered some trouble.
However, before Qi Zhilin could rush over, Hun Sen let out another scream, as if he were being torn apart by a wild beast.
The scream was terrifying, as if one could feel the excruciating pain he was enduring. The booming sounds grew even more intense, as if a fierce battle was unfolding in the forest.
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