Chapter 75: Killing Intent (Patreon)

In the dorm room of Shrek Academy, Lu Feng was lying flat on his bed, lazily toying with the Blue Silver Emperor vines resting in his hand. His eyes stared at the ceiling, but his mind replayed the earlier battle he'd had with Liu Erlong.

She hadn’t just gone all-out physically—she’d taught him something rare, something that most people couldn’t even begin to grasp.

Killing intent.

On top of her usual brutal, aggressive combat style, Liu Erlong had given him insight into a deeper, sharper art of fighting—intent. Specifically, the killing intent she had cultivated from real life-or-death combat.

And it felt incredibly familiar to Lu Feng.

It was just like the blade intent he’d once experienced while training with the Supreme Douluo’s dagger martial soul. Both were invisible, formless forces. They didn’t rely on spirit energy. You couldn’t describe them with words or measure them with power levels.

They were pure will—sharp, focused, lethal.

When killing intent or blade intent was channeled into an attack, it turned something simple into something unstoppable. It could cut from any angle, strike the spirit, and shake even the soul.

He remembered how he once swung a dagger only once, but Tang Hao had felt like a thousand invisible blades were coming at him from every direction. No space to run. No way to defend.

Even stranger—killing intent and blade intent didn’t clash. They didn’t cancel each other out.

What if they could be combined?

That idea clicked in Lu Feng’s mind like lightning.

He sat up and reached out, plucking a soft leaf from Ah Yin, the Blue Silver Grass. His eyes sharpened as he concentrated.

All at once, the air around him grew tense. Heavy. Oppressive.

Killing intent and blade intent fused in his body, converging silently. The small vine in his palm trembled violently, as if it feared for its life.

Then—

Flick!

Lu Feng casually tossed the leaf forward.

He didn’t use a single drop of spirit energy. Only that raw, deadly fusion of intent.

Thwip!

The leaf didn’t float gently. It ripped through the air like a blade, flying straight toward a nearby tree.

Thunk!

It struck with force, embedding itself so deep in the trunk that the leaf itself vanished into the wood.

As luck—or fate—would have it, Tang San was standing right there. His whole body wrapped in bandages, he had one hand braced against the tree as he struggled with his pants.

Why?

Because even going to the bathroom had become a nightmare for him.

Back during the entrance exam, Tang San had fired poisoned hidden weapons right at Zhao Wuji’s balls, aiming to end the fight in one dirty shot. It was vicious—he’d tried to ruin the man’s future generations in one move.

And Zhao Wuji hadn’t forgotten.

When he got his chance, Zhao Wuji had returned the favor during the duel. Not with poison—but with force. He’d hammered Tang San in the crotch with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Ever since then, Tang San’s lower half had been a zone of pain. Urinating? Torture. Every time he had to go, it was a slow, humiliating experience.

And tonight, he was halfway through, gritting his teeth through the sting—

Whoosh!

Suddenly, a chilling, murderous force exploded behind him. Cold, sharp, and fast—like death itself rushing toward him.

Assassin!

Tang San panicked, body going rigid. His bladder released again, this time out of fear.

His pants soaked instantly with warm yellow liquid.

He tried to use his Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track to escape, but—

Too slow.

Thunk!

A sharp object slammed into the tree—right above his head—burying deep into the wood.

Then—

CRACK!

The entire tree split clean in two with a loud snap and crashed to the ground.

The force behind that strike had been enough to cut through a trunk thicker than a man's thigh.

Tang San stood there, soaked, shaken, and speechless.

Nearby, Oscar and Ma Hongjun, who’d been chatting in the courtyard, heard the crash and ran over.

Oscar took one sniff and immediately covered his nose. “Ugh! Xiao San, did you just pee yourself?!”

Tang San’s face turned pale with embarrassment. “N-No! Someone just tried to assassinate me!”

His voice shook. He tried to pull up his pants as discreetly as possible.

It was hopeless. The smell and the stain told the truth. Tang San looked completely humiliated.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Really? I didn’t sense any spirit power…”

Tang San pointed to the split tree. “You think that just fell over?!”

Ma Hongjun crossed his arms. “Don’t raise your voice. You’re still just a probationary student. Show some respect.”

Oscar knelt down beside the trunk. He blinked in surprise.

“The cut’s too clean… like it was done with a blade. Wait—what the hell? There’s a leaf here…”

Ma Hongjun’s jaw dropped. “A leaf cut a tree in half?! No spirit power, just… leaf?!”

Tang San stared at the tree, pale. “That’s… Plucking Leaves to Kill with Flowers…”

The phrase hit like thunder.

That martial technique came from the world he had originally come from—the Ancient Tang Sect. It was legendary. Only true grandmasters could use it. By infusing inner energy and intent into a petal or a leaf, they could make the softest thing deadlier than steel.

The Tang Clan had one rule: If you see someone use that technique—run. Never fight.

Their clan relied on physical weapons—needles, darts, hidden blades.

But a master like this? He didn’t need to carry anything. Every flower, every leaf was a potential weapon. And there were endless leaves. How could you win against that?

Even Tang San’s best hidden weapons could only pierce about two inches into wood.

But Lu Feng?

His leaf just cut a tree clean in half.

“Yo! Sorry about that, guys,” Lu Feng’s relaxed voice called out from the dorm window. He was leaning casually against the frame, waving. “Just doing some practice. Didn’t know someone was under the tree.”

Tang San’s face turned grey.

Just practice?

That leaf had almost taken his head off. If it landed six inches lower, he’d be dead.

This wasn’t a mistake. This was a message.

Tang San didn’t say another word. Still holding up his damp pants, he ran off, head down, ears red.

Ma Hongjun whistled. “Damn. Bro Feng, that was insane! When are you teaching me that?”

Lu Feng smirked. “You up for a spar right now?”

“Hard pass!” Ma Hongjun laughed, backing away. “I got a date tonight. Gotta introduce Oscar to someone special.”

He and Oscar exchanged grins and walked off toward the dorms, chuckling.

Lu Feng knew exactly who they meant—Caihua, one of the prettier girls on campus. A favorite among the more... lust-driven students.

He looked up at the sky.

The moon was shining bright, pale and graceful.

“The moon hangs over willow branches; lovers meet at dusk,” he murmured.

“‘The moon hangs over willow branches; lovers meet at dusk’... How poetic,” a soft voice said beside him.

He turned.

Liu Erlong was sitting on the edge of his bed. Her posture relaxed, yet elegant.

She had just come out of the bath. Her hair was still damp, hanging like a silky black waterfall down her back. The scent of floral soap floated gently from her skin.

She wore a black nightgown, thin and smooth, the kind that hugged every curve. Her breasts pressed softly against the fabric, full and high, their shape plainly outlined through the silk. Her long legs stretched out under the moonlight, bare and flawless. The slit in the dress rose high up her thigh, revealing more than it hid.

Lu Feng swallowed.

He was no monk—and she was clearly tempting him.

“Well well… if it isn’t my lovely President Liu,” he said.

She gave him a sideways look. “Call me Teacher.”

“Even at night?”

“In the academy, it’s always Teacher. Rules are rules.”

He smirked. “Then, Teacher… you didn’t knock.”

“And if someone saw me dressed like this standing at your door?” she replied with a sly smile.

“So why are you here like this?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, flicking his forehead—but when she leaned forward, her chest swayed dangerously. “You wore me out during training. I didn’t feel like changing after my bath.”

Lu Feng’s gaze dipped down for a second.

Yep. She was absolutely seducing him.

“Want a massage, Teacher?” he offered, stepping forward. “Back, legs… anywhere you’re sore. I’ve got a special healing technique, family secret. Guaranteed to make you feel very refreshed.”

Liu Erlong tilted her head, pretending to think. Her lips parted slightly.

“A massage?” she said, voice low. “That good?”

“Try and see.”

He warmed his hands with exaggerated seriousness. “Very professional. Five-star service.”

“Just back and legs.”

“Of course.”

But as she started to lean forward, she paused. “Wait a second… you almost tricked me! I came here for a kiss, not a massage.”

Lu Feng blinked.

Well, damn. Straight to the point.

He chuckled. “Both are on the menu. I’m ready to serve however you want, Teacher.”