You may now take your own life.

Actually, there was no need for the Pavilion Master of Tingfeng to remind him.

Su Ji had already sensed it.

A sense of crisis that made the hairs on his entire body stand on end.

Instead of dissipating with Zhao Wuji's death, it was like a rising tide, one wave higher than the last, instantly engulfing him.

"Thud."

A soft sound.

It sounded as if someone wearing thick-soled boots had casually stepped onto the stone-paved path of their own backyard.

Su Ji's heart suddenly contracted.

He subconsciously looked up at the sky above the mine, whose roof had already been blown off.

A streak of golden light lit up without any warning.

The light wasn't blinding, nor did it carry the divine feeling of illuminating the world. Instead, it exuded an indescribable sense of... heaviness.

Immediately after, a human figure abruptly appeared in Su Ji's line of sight.

The man was dressed in an extremely luxurious golden robe, embroidered with intricate cloud patterns using an unknown silk thread. Every line seemed to be slightly flowing, as if alive.

He was not riding a flying sword, nor was he controlling any magical treasure.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he slowly walked down from the void, step by step, as if descending a flight of invisible stairs.

With every step he took, a visible ripple would spread out in the air beneath his feet.

Su Ji's pupils suddenly shrank to the size of pinpricks.

He was here.

Zhao Teng!

This Qilin son of the Zhao family made his entrance without any earth-shattering explosions, nor any arrogant and flashy dialogue.

He simply landed on the ground peacefully.

First, he dusted off nonexistent dirt from his sleeves, and then he slowly turned his head, his gaze falling upon the miserable corpse not far away.

Zhao Wuji had died with his eyes open. His cloudy eyes were staring wide, and shock and unwillingness lingered on his face.

Zhao Teng stared at the corpse for a good while.

There were no tears of absolute grief on his face, nor any furious rage.

He merely frowned slightly. His expression looked as if he had stepped in dog filth right after leaving his house, feeling nothing but bad luck.

"Tsk."

Zhao Teng shook his head and let out a light sigh from his nose.

"Old thing..."

"You are too embarrassing."

Zhao Teng's voice was very soft, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "I told you not to be greedy, not to be greedy, but you just wouldn't listen."

"At your age, you were still dreaming of reaching the heavens in a single bound."

"Now look, you've played yourself to death, haven't you?"

"I told you long ago, eat according to the size of your bowl. Are the relics of an Immortal Venerable something your rotten body could withstand?"

"I've already said that I don't need the relics of an Immortal Venerable to become one myself."

Muttering to himself, he bent down and reached out to close Zhao Wuji's unyielding eyes.

However, there was not much warmth in his actions; instead, it revealed a sense of perfunctory routine.

After doing all this, he straightened up, took out a pure white handkerchief from his robe, meticulously wiped his fingers, and then casually tossed it away.

The handkerchief fluttered down to cover Zhao Wuji's face, serving as the final bit of dignity for this Zhao family patriarch.

Having finished dealing with his family affairs, Zhao Teng finally turned around.

His gaze bypassed Su Ji and landed directly on the white-clothed figure who had been standing in the shadows watching the show.

Zhao Teng raised an eyebrow. "You have great taste, Lord Pavilion Master. Coming to a godforsaken place like this to watch a show."

The Pavilion Master of Tingfeng did not act arrogant either. He nodded slightly, wearing his signature breezy and calm expression. "Just entrusted by someone and fulfilling my duty, that's all."

"It's just a pity..."

The Pavilion Master pointed to the corpse on the ground with a look of regret. "I am only responsible for witnessing, not babysitting."

"Your esteemed father was too headstrong and insisted on wrestling with that immortal artifact. I couldn't stop him."

These words completely washed his hands of the matter.

Hearing this, Zhao Teng wasn't angry. He just chuckled softly. "You must be joking, Pavilion Master."

"I know better than anyone what kind of character this old thing had."

"Greedy, short-sighted, and obstinate."

"He died here because he brought it upon himself. You cannot be blamed."

The two of them acted like old friends who hadn't seen each other for a long time, exchanging pleasantries as if no one else was around at the bottom of this blood-scented abyss.

They completely treated Su Ji, who was standing to the side, as thin air.

Su Ji's fingers gripping his spear turned slightly white.

He could feel the power transmitted from Su Jiu within his body trembling faintly.

It wasn't out of fear.

But because of... the oppressive pressure.

This Zhao Teng gave off a vibe that was far too dangerous.

He was like a vicious weapon hidden in a scabbard. Although unsheathed, the chilling aura seeping out was already enough to cut one's skin.

Finally.

Zhao Teng seemed to have had enough of the pleasantries.

He turned his head, and those narrow, phoenix-like eyes looked straight at Su Ji for the very first time.

There was no anger.

He was as calm as if he were looking at a stray dog lying by the roadside.

"Golden Core stage?"

Zhao Teng looked Su Ji up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the faint pink flowing light on his body, before the corners of his mouth curled into a disdainful arc.

"Interesting."

"Borrowed power?"

"No wonder you were able to butcher my trash of a father."

He took a step forward.

Just a single step.

Su Ji felt the surrounding air suddenly sink, pressing down on his chest and making it hard to breathe.

"Kid."

With his hands behind his back, Zhao Teng spoke in a flat tone. "Even though this old thing was very useless, frequently caused trouble for me, and loved to brag about me at every turn, saying things like I had the bearing of an Immortal Venerable, which made me feel embarrassed for him just listening to it."

"He was, after all, my father."

At this point, Zhao Teng paused.

He raised his hand and pointed at the corpse covered by the handkerchief on the ground.

"When he was alive, I could scold him, I could despise him, and I could even call him the most useless old thing."

"But now he's dead."

"And he was killed by someone."

"That makes it my business."

Zhao Teng looked at Su Ji, and a chilling, sinister coldness finally surfaced in those eyes.

"End your own life."