According to Xue Mao's insinuation, it didn't matter how powerful this cultivator was—unless they were an Immortal Emperor, the Shadow Phoenix's misfortunate destiny would inevitably transfer to them.
The sheer thought of it made Xiao Ming's skin crawl.
However, his expression remained unfazed. A sharp glint flickered through his eyes, like the edge of a blade slicing through the air.
Xue Mao was all too familiar with this look—it was the same expression Xiao Ming wore whenever he was about to make a reckless, almost suicidal decision.
Whether it was sheer stubbornness or defiance against fate, once that glint appeared in his eyes, nothing could change his mind.
"I don't believe you, Little Xue. Just how unlucky must that creature be to forcibly shorten someone's lifespan? Tsk, tsk! The very thought of it is laughable. Even just listening to it sounds absurd, let alone reasoning it out!" Xiao Ming scoffed, feigning a confidence he didn't entirely possess.
