The breath of the Heavenly Tribulation could not be felt by cultivators who hadn't reached the Sword Tribulation Realm.
But real geniuses were exceptions.
Zhou Yan was a true genius, and so was Feng Jiu Xian.
A true genius could, through a mere exchange of gazes or clashing of Sword Intents, trigger the aura of the Heavenly Tribulation—a phenomenon as incredible as a myth.
Yet this wasn't a myth; it was a fact.
As Feng Jiu Xian's gaze met Zhou Yan's, their wills collided in an instant. Zhou Yan's eyes were calm, discreetly withdrawing his gaze without a trace.
In Feng Jiu Xian's indifferent, spiritual eyes, there was a clear flicker of shock, as if a cultivator who could look her in the eye and retract his so composedly was beyond her expectations.
She hadn't spoken yet when she noticed that Zhou Yan, having withdrawn his equally indifferent gaze, turned around with tranquility and continued to stand on the peak of his own mountain, gazing into the distance.
