The city guards quickened their pace, and Lin Feng followed suit.
Of the group preparing to rob him, only two with any martial arts skill managed to keep up with Lin Feng. The others fell behind.
Lin Feng ran for a while before gradually beginning to lag. With his current strength, his speed still could not match that of a fleet, four-legged steed.
The city guards were growing more distant, while the two robbers closed in from behind. If caught, he would stand no chance.
In a decisive move, Lin Feng veered right and plunged into the roadside woods, creating a brief gap between himself and his pursuers. The two robbers hesitated for a moment before rushing after him.
For nearly an hour, Lin Feng ran, yet the two continued their relentless chase. Laden with too much, his stamina began to falter. The items he carried were important, of course—but not as vital as his own life. If he discarded some of his burden, he might just save himself.
He removed the cured meat clinging to his body, preparing to throw it away.
Suddenly, two loud shouts erupted from behind:
"Sky Splitting Blade."
"Blood Drinking Sword."
Instinctively, Lin Feng glanced back. He saw a forty-meter blade formed of true energy colliding with an equally massive, blood-colored sword. A resounding boom and a visible shockwave radiated from the point of impact.
Realizing the danger, Lin Feng dove and hit the ground. Crack, crack—within mere dozens of meters, every tree caught in the shockwave snapped in half. The earth trembled violently, nearly hurling him skyward.
Once the shaking subsided, Lin Feng looked up. The ground behind him had been scarred with two deep, dozen-meter-long cuts, effectively separating him from the two robbers. Those assailants, slower to react, were grazed by the shockwave and now lay groaning on the ground.
The original owner had heard that martial arts in this world were exceedingly powerful, yet he had never imagined they could be this formidable.
Lin Feng then raised his eyes. Perched on a treetop was a white-clothed man wielding a long blade, his expression cold and his cloak fluttering in the wind. Lin Feng attempted to read the man's attribute panel, but it all appeared as question marks—a sign that the gap between them was insurmountable.
Ahead of the white-clothed man stood a red-robed man brandishing a long sword, also high on a treetop. The white-clothed man spoke, "Li Chengfeng, you've crossed the line." His voice, though quiet, struck like a thunderclap, echoing in Lin Feng's ears.
The red-robed man replied with a chuckle, "Hehe, Zheng Haotian, you're being too nosy. The world is vast—I can go wherever I please."
It was then that Lin Feng realized these two cared not for him; to them, the three people on the ground were mere ants.
Lin Feng rose and ran. When gods fight, mortals suffer—staying to watch was tantamount to inviting death; fleeing was his only option.
Throughout the battle, the two figures on the treetops never once glanced downward. Boom, boom, crack, crack—the sounds of muffled thunder-like explosions and breaking trees pursued him as he dashed over half a kilometer.
Whoosh—an old man carrying a long sword streaked over Lin Feng's head from fifty meters up, moving as swiftly as a fighter jet. Another formidable fighter had arrived.
Lin Feng pressed on. After four or five kilometers, he slowed, panting heavily. Huff, huff—he wondered whether the two robbers chasing him were dead. Should he wait for these peerless experts to finish their duel and then return to collect the bodies?
Gazing at the setting sun, Lin Feng remembered the city guards who had already left the city and dismissed the idea. With such a commotion, the guards would surely investigate—and being caught was not an option.
Amid the fierce battle, Lin Feng felt a surge of excitement. The martial arts of this world were incredibly potent. With the system's blessing, even the top geniuses could not match his cultivation speed. It wouldn't be long before he, too, became that strong.
...
Later, Lin Feng walked home, contemplating how to manage his family upon his return. Although he shared the same name and appearance as the original Lin Feng, their personalities were entirely different. In other words, their characters diverged completely. Such a transformation couldn't be gradual—it required a sudden awakening.
Upon reaching the village entrance, a thought struck him, and he entered with a smile. An old woman sitting by the roadside scrutinized him and said, "Isn't this Xiao Feng? Where did you go last night? You didn't come back, and your mother and sick wife were so worried. Your mother and your wife had packed up and were about to take the child to the county to find you, but the village chief stopped them. If they had set out, who knows what trouble might have befallen them! Hurry back—the crying in your house hasn't ceased all day."
What sins had the original owner committed? No matter how despicable he might have been, he was still his mother's flesh and blood—the pillar of the family. If he went missing, the whole family would be in distress. Now that Lin Feng had become the Lin Feng of this world, he had to shoulder the responsibility for his family.
Creak—Lin Feng approached the door of his house and pushed it open. In the courtyard, an old woman with a torn cloth wrapped around her head sat quietly. Tears glistened in her lifeless eyes, and a dark red stain seeped from the rag on her head. This was Lin Feng's mother.
At the sight of him, her eyes lit up briefly before turning stern. "You little beast—you still know how to come back."
Lin Feng had already devised a countermeasure to reverse his character. He rushed to his mother, knelt by her side, clung to her leg, buried his face in it, and began to cry loudly. He had planned to fake a difficult cry, but when he saw his mother's distressed state, genuine tears flowed uncontrollably.
"Wuwu, Mom, your son is unfilial—making you worry," he sobbed.
Startled and angered, his mother raised her hand as if to deliver two heavy slaps. But upon hearing his miserable cries, her anger softened, and her hand slowly descended onto Lin Feng's head, stroking it gently.
"Wuwu, my son, where did you run off last night? Your wife and I were so worried. The world is dangerous, so do not stay out overnight. Your wife Chunlan and I have discussed it—we'll buy you wine if you wish, as long as you live well with Chunlan, everything will be fine."
"Wuwu, Mom, your son will never drink again. I was enlightened by a god, had a dream spanning decades, and have long since reformed. From now on, I will be filial to you and take care of my wife and children."
Mothers are easily swayed by their sons' words. When his mother heard this, the gentle stroking of his head trembled slightly.
"Son, are you telling the truth? Tell Mom—what exactly happened?"
Lin Feng began his tale: "The day before yesterday, I left home and walked for two hours. Suddenly, I felt drowsy, leaned against a tree, and fell asleep. In my dream, I journeyed to another world, lived alone for more than twenty years, and finally died of exhaustion. Then a voice told me that my fate was not yet over, commanding me to return and be filial to my mother and care for my family. When I awoke, I found a great deal of silver in my arms."
After Lin Feng finished, his mother was silent for a moment. Then a small, childish voice retorted, "Stinky drunkard, what are you babbling about?"
"Grandma, don't believe him—he's just tricking you again."