C9 Although the Candy Doll Was Good, There Was Not Much Time Left.

Upon seeing the elderly candy seller, Feng Zhentian was struck by a faint sense of recognition. Maple Falling Town had once faced utter devastation, with only a handful of survivors escaping the calamity!

Among them was the old candy seller, a formidable practitioner at the pinnacle of the Qi Sea Stage. Initially, they had mistaken him for a mere frail elder. Yet, to their surprise, as they moved to strike, he unsheathed a sword from his bamboo cane and unleashed a fury, swiftly making his way to the city gates and scaling the wall to freedom.

Despite his gaunt appearance and persistent cough, few in Maple Falling Town could stand against him in battle.

Approaching the old man, Feng Zhentian cleared his throat softly, "Ahem."

"Cough, cough. Young Master, would you care for a stick of candy?" the old man inquired, his face creased with a gentle smile.

"Haha, elder, the candy is indeed tasty, but it's not something one can enjoy for long," Feng Zhentian replied with a light smile, taking a stick of candy and reflecting wistfully.

"Young Master, your words carry deeper meaning!"

"Haha, let's leave it at that. I have matters to attend to. Should you find yourself in unbearable pain, seek me out at the Feng family. My name is Feng Zhentian." With those words, Feng Zhentian made his way beyond the city walls.

The old man watched Feng Zhentian's departing figure in astonishment.

Feng Zhentian had now reached the cliff that had nearly claimed his life. He located the very spot where he had once tumbled down, hesitating and feeling a twinge of fear. After all, in his past life, he had no idea how he had managed to survive. Yet, without taking the leap, he would never obtain the Fruit of the Netherworld.

Without the Fruit of the Netherworld, altering his destiny would be impossible.

Without the Fruit of the Netherworld, he couldn't protect his father.

Without the Fruit of the Netherworld, he would once again be separated from the woman he cherished most.

...

With resolve, Feng Zhentian gritted his teeth: "I've already faced death once; I refuse to believe fate would claim Feng Zhentian's life again!"

With a leap, Feng Zhentian plunged downward, the sensation of the rapid fall sending a shiver through him as the world around him blurred into obscurity.

This was much like his last life, with one notable exception: in his previous existence, Feng Zhentian had lost consciousness, but in this life, he remained painfully awake.

"Ah!"

A sudden scream tore from Feng Zhentian's lips as his descent slowed, the searing pain in his back a stark reminder of the agony that had roused him before.

It was this very tree that had saved Feng Zhentian during a fall in the past. Without it, he surely would have perished.

This time, however, Feng Zhentian's landing was far more brutal than before. His legs were shattered, his spine dislocated; the slightest movement brought waves of excruciating pain.

Yet, Feng Zhentian was no ordinary man; he was the Wind Monarch of the Divine Martial Continent. He had weathered countless injuries, and this pain was something he could bear, at least for now. Gritting his teeth against the torment, he dragged himself toward the riverbank.

He recalled the presence of a green river here, which he later learned contained the waters of the Netherworld. A mere trickle, perhaps, but enough to nurture the coveted Fruit of the Netherworld.

Upon reaching the river, Feng Zhentian's gaze fell upon the Fruit of the Netherworld, dangling from a branch. A slight smile played upon his lips. "Haha, we meet again!"

The sight of the fruit seemed to infuse him with newfound vigor. Clutching the trunk, he hoisted his battered body, inch by painstaking inch, up the tree.

Time lost meaning as he climbed, but eventually, Feng Zhentian succeeded in plucking the Fruit of the Netherworld. Holding the fruit, he swallowed hard, the memory of his previous pain hauntingly vivid.