One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Something pulled them back in a way that was both forceful and gentle.

Is it the Ice Heart Technique? Not entirely. The Ice Heart Technique's coolness is operating at full power, trying to soothe the rampaging blood. But more importantly... it's the pure, everyday, and living aura in Feng Baobao's words.

The murderous intent receded slowly like a tide.

The scorching heat of the Qilin tattoo on his chest began to gradually subside.

The terrifying scarlet color in his eyes, like ink dripped into clear water, began to slowly spread and fade.

Nie Lingfeng took a deep, deep breath. The icy air rushed into his lungs, carrying the chill of the Snow Drinking Blade and a faint smell of blood. He forced himself to focus all his attention on circulating the Ice Heart Technique.

"A pure heart remains unperturbed even when the sky falls; composure remains amidst countless changes; a tranquil mind and peaceful spirit prevail..."

A cool aura gushed forth from the deepest part of his dantian, flowing ceaselessly along the meridians expanded by the Xuanwu True Scripture. Wherever it passed, it gradually cooled, soothed, and suppressed the boiling, mad blood.

This process is very slow.

Every second felt like a year.

Everyone in the conference room held their breath, watching him nervously. Xu San's hand was already on the specially made magic weapon at his waist, Xu Si also quietly assumed a defensive posture, and Feng Zhenghao secretly signaled his subordinates to be ready to deal with the worst-case scenario at any time.

About a minute passed—which felt like an eternity to everyone else.

The bloodlust in Nie Lingfeng's eyes finally faded completely, returning to their usual deep black. He blinked, looking around at the chaotic battlefield with a somewhat blank expression, then looked down at the Snow Drinking Blade radiating coldness in his hand. Finally, his gaze fell on Feng Baobao, on her pale yet serene face, and on the glaring black cone on her shoulder.

"Sister Bao'er...you..." His voice was a little hoarse, carrying the exhaustion of someone who had just survived a disaster.

"I'm hungry," Feng Baobao said for the third time, this time with a hint of "persistence" in her tone. She even gently tugged at the hem of her blood-stained t-shirt with her uninjured right hand. "This needs washing too. It's dirty."

Nie Lingfeng looked at her, at the pure, untainted longing in her eyes for "hot pot," and suddenly felt like laughing, yet also felt a lump in his throat.

With a flick of his wrist, the Snow Drinking Blade traced a graceful arc and, with a "clang," precisely returned to its sheath on his back.

Then, he turned around, faced Feng Zhenghao whose expression remained solemn, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and his voice returned to its usual gentle tone, though still tinged with obvious fatigue and apology:

"President Feng, tonight... I lost my temper. My friend was injured, and in a moment of anger, I couldn't control my emotions and... some old ailments. I ruined your event, destroyed your meeting room, and even injured your people. I'm truly sorry."

Feng Zhenghao looked at Jia Zhengyu, who was barely breathing on the ground, and then at the young man in front of him who had been like a demon god just a moment ago, but was now politely apologizing. His eyes were complicated and hard to understand.

After a full five seconds of silence, he slowly waved his hand, his signature, businessman-like amiable smile returning to his face, though a lingering fear remained in his eyes: "Brother Nie, you flatter me. This matter... was caused by my incompetent subordinate's sneak attack. He was outmatched and had wicked intentions, so he deserved this fate. Let's leave it at that tonight."

Xu San and Xu Si finally breathed a sigh of relief and stepped forward.

"President Feng," Xu San adjusted his glasses, his voice steady, "we, brothers, will be responsible for compensating for all the losses caused today. The list will be sent later, so please do not refuse."

"Mr. Xu, you're too kind." Feng Zhenghao shook his head, his smile deepening. "A little financial loss is nothing to mention. Just consider it... an unexpected encounter that led to friendship."

His gaze shifted to Zhang Chulan, who had been standing by the conference table with a complex expression. His tone was gentle: "Nephew Chulan, do you... really not want to stay? The World Society can provide you with no shortage of resources and support. We can also investigate the matter concerning your grandfather and father together."

Zhang Chulan glanced at Feng Baobao, who still had an awl stuck in her shoulder but was staring longingly at Nie Lingfeng, repeating "hot pot" softly. He then looked at Nie Lingfeng, who, though exhausted, had a determined gaze. Finally, he looked at Xu San and Xu Si, took a deep breath, and shook his head.

"Uncle Feng, I appreciate your kindness. But right now... I need to go back with my 'partners' first. There are some things I need to think through, and I also need to... confirm them. Once I've figured them out, perhaps... I'll come and bother you again."

Feng Zhenghao showed just the right amount of regret on his face and nodded: "That's good. It's a good thing for a young man to have his own ideas and path. The doors of the World Society are always open for you."

After saying that, he looked at Nie Lingfeng, his eyes filled with undisguised appreciation and inquiry: "Similarly, Brother Nie, whenever you want to come and visit the World Society, I will always welcome you with open arms."

Nie Lingfeng clasped his hands in thanks: "Thank you for your kind offer, President Feng. Well then... we'll take our leave now. Sister Bao'er's injury needs to be treated as soon as possible."

"Please go ahead."

Without another word, the group turned and headed for the door. Xu San carefully supported Feng Baobao's uninjured right side, while Nie Lingfeng walked cautiously at the back, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his knife.

As he reached the elevator, Nie Lingfeng subconsciously turned around and glanced at the shattered conference room.

Feng Zhenghao stood with his back to them in front of the broken French window, silently gazing at the brightly lit city lights outside. His figure was somewhat blurred by the swirling smoke and ice crystals. Feng Shayan was quietly directing several trusted subordinates to clean up the mess and carefully lift the unconscious Jia Zhengyu onto a stretcher. The middle-aged cadre who had brought them stood beside Feng Zhenghao, his lips moving slightly, as if he were asking for instructions in a low voice.

Feng Zhenghao seemed to say something, and the middle-aged cadre bowed and nodded, saying nothing more.

The elevator doors slid open silently and then slowly closed, blocking the view between the inside and outside.

The elevator descended smoothly.

The small space was unusually quiet, with only the faint hum of the elevator running. Feng Baobao leaned against the wall, her right hand still covering the area near her left shoulder wound. Her face was pale, but her eyes were bright and unblinking as she stared at Nie Lingfeng.

"Xiao Feng," she suddenly spoke, her voice exceptionally clear in the enclosed space, "you were...so fierce just now. Your eyes were red, like...like the monster in the cartoon Xu Si watched."

Nie Lingfeng smiled wryly and rubbed his throbbing temples. "Did I scare you? I'm sorry."

"It's nothing." Feng Baobao shook her head, the movement aggravating her wound. She frowned slightly, but her tone remained calm. "You're helping me. Xu Si said that fighting for a friend is called 'being loyal.' You're being loyal."

She paused, as if organizing her thoughts, then looked up into Nie Lingfeng's eyes and said very seriously and slowly, "Thank you, Xiaofeng."

Nie Lingfeng was stunned.

He looked at Feng Baobao. This girl, who usually seemed like a humanoid AI with almost no emotional fluctuations, now had a real, warm, and "human" temperature clearly reflected in her pale face and her usually empty eyes.

Although it was still very faint, as faint as the first ray of light at dawn.

But it truly exists.

A warm current surged into my heart without warning, dispelling the lingering anger and weariness.

He smiled, a smile that seemed both relieved and relaxed.

"You're welcome, Sister Bao'er."

The elevator arrived at the first floor with a soft "ding".

The four walked out of the still brightly lit but subtly atmospheric hall, passed through the revolving door, and stepped back into the cool night air of Tianjin.

A night breeze caressed his face, carrying the city's unique hustle and bustle, exhaust fumes, and the faint aromas wafting from the distant night market. Nie Lingfeng took a deep breath, feeling the turbulent, restless beast within his chest, almost bursting free, finally soothed by the Ice Heart Technique, sinking back into the depths of his bloodline and falling into slumber.

But the seeds of fear have already been quietly sown.

He looked down at his outstretched palm. The lines on his palm were clear, the fingers long and strong. It was this very hand that had almost beaten someone to death, or even…

"Qilin marrow? Or the Nie family's mad blood..." he muttered to himself, his voice so soft that only he could hear it. "Perhaps it's the Qilin Demon from the anime? More dangerous and uncontrollable than I imagined."

"Xiao Feng." Xu Si walked over, this time without a cigarette, and just patted him hard on the shoulder, so hard that he staggered. "Just now... well done. That bastard played dirty, serves him right!"

"Fourth Brother, I..."

"I know what you're trying to say," Xu Si interrupted him, his eyes losing their usual playfulness and gaining a hint of seriousness and...understanding? "That feeling isn't pleasant. But remember, you were protecting your own people. That's enough. Next time... well, try not to cause a death, otherwise the company will have a hard time cleaning up the mess."

Nie Lingfeng nodded, a warmth spreading through his heart: "I understand."

"Let's go," Xu San said, opening the car door and turning back to urge them on, his gaze falling worriedly on the glaring black awl on Feng Baobao's shoulder. "Let's go back first. Baobao's wound needs immediate treatment. This awl... is probably not simple. Chu Lan, you get in the car too, we'll talk more when we get back."

Feng Baobao, however, grabbed the hem of Nie Lingfeng's tracksuit, tilted her head back, and looked at him with her eyes, dimly lit by the streetlights, repeating clearly and stubbornly:

"Xiaofeng, I want to eat hot pot. Spicy. The really spicy kind."

Looking at the undeniable "foodie" insistence on her pale face, Nie Lingfeng couldn't help but laugh again, this time with a much more relaxed smile: "Okay, let's have hot pot. We'll get it ready when we get back. First, pull out the awl, bandage it up, and then we'll cook hot pot."

Feng Baobao nodded in satisfaction and obediently let Xu San help her into the back seat of the car.

The five men got into the SUV. Xu San started the car, and Zhang Chulan opened his mouth but didn't say anything. He ultimately decided to talk about it when they got back. With a low roar from the engine, the black car slid into the traffic under the night sky.

In the back seat, Feng Baobao carefully leaned against Nie Lingfeng's side to avoid pressing on his wound. With the car's slight swaying, she seemed a little drowsy, her eyes half-closed, her long eyelashes casting faint shadows beneath them. Suddenly, she moved, her uninjured right hand groping and gently tugging at a corner of Nie Lingfeng's clothing.

"Xiao Feng." Her voice was very soft, like a dream.

"Hmm?" Nie Lingfeng looked down.

"Next time..." Feng Baobao said with her eyes closed, her voice muffled but earnest, "If another awl flies at you... I'll block it for you."

Nie Lingfeng was startled and stared at her in astonishment.

Feng Baobao kept her eyes closed, as if talking to herself, or as if promising him: "Don't do that again... your eyes are red, you're going crazy... it's not good."

Nie Lingfeng froze, feeling as if something was blocking his throat, unable to utter a single word. He could only reach out and clumsily pat Feng Baobao's head, his fingertips touching her soft, slightly cool hair.

"...Okay." He finally found his voice, dry but firm, "I won't go crazy. I promise."

Feng Baobao seemed to give a soft "hmm" and stopped talking, but she didn't let go of the hand holding his clothes.

The car sped through the night, the city lights outside the window rushing past, eventually merging into a blurry band of light.

On the top floor of the Tianxia Group building, in front of a broken floor-to-ceiling window.

Feng Zhenghao remained standing there, a glass of amber-colored liquor now in his hand. He gently swirled the glass, watching the black SUV below merge into the traffic and eventually disappear at the end of the street.

The middle-aged cadre silently walked up behind him and whispered, "Chairman, Jia Zhengyu's injuries are very serious. The cold has invaded his lungs and major meridians. Even if he survives, his martial arts skills will probably be... mostly ruined. The medical team is asking if we should use that 'Centennial Ginseng King' to prolong his life?"

Feng Zhenghao did not answer immediately. He took a sip of his wine, his gaze distant.

After a long pause, he finally spoke calmly: "Use it. He's from Jiajia Village after all. It's troublesome for him to die here. If you save him, give him some money and send him back to Jiajia Village. From then on, he'll have nothing to do with the World Society."

"Yes." The cadre bowed, then hesitated, "Then...that Nie Lingfeng? His strength..."

"His strength?" Feng Zhenghao's lips curled into a meaningful smile, his eyes behind his glasses gleaming with the shrewdness of a businessman and a ruthless tyrant. "Where did Xu San and Xu Si find such a treasure... no, a monster. That slash... and his final appearance..."

He paused, then downed the wine in his glass in one gulp, his voice barely audible:

"Interesting. Very interesting."

"The Luo Tian Grand Ceremony...it seems it will be much more lively than I imagined."

The night wind rushed in through the broken window, ruffling the hair on his forehead and scattering the whispers.

But the turmoil stirred up that night was destined not to subside as the vehicles drove away and the night wind blew.

Once something appears, it's like a boulder thrown into the center of a lake; the ripples... will only spread further and further away.