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... but even a blind fool would know he was alone—alone with death itself. The snarling echoed in his ears, and instinct screamed at him to run, to fight, to survive. But he couldn’t. Not without his glasses. Not with the blur that twisted the forest into a shadowy void.

He dropped to his knees and curled into himself, trembling.

Then—a silence.

But not peace. The air rippled with tension. Then came the clash—steel against fang, flesh against claw. A battle. Fierce. Brutal. ...

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The immortal cultivator was reborn in the city and became the defeated rich second-generation college student Zhang Yifeng, starting a counterattack from then on.

Step on high, rich and handsome, punch all kinds of masters.

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