Master Lotus looked at her indifferently and suddenly smiled. He lowered his head gently and sucked the blood off her delicate cheeks as if he was sucking the dew off a lotus. Then, he bit off another piece of her flesh.
Ye Hongyu's eyes were filled with pain, but she laughed crazily, "You are afraid."
Master Lotus ignored her and chewed the third mouthful of blood calmly. He tried to recover his spirit and vitality in the shortest time possible, at least before Ning Que woke up.
In the world decades ago, he was the most terrifying and powerful figure. Today, facing him, three of the most outstanding people of the younger generation in the world had exploded at the same time. They had finally found a glimmer of hope in the midst of despair. They had fought for a chance of survival in the face of death. The strong confidence and perseverance contained in this dangerous process made even Master Lotus, who had seen countless earth-shattering events in his life, palpitate. He had to show his respect by being serious.
The key point of the current situation was that when the Calligraphy Addict risked the collapse of her sense of perception to forcefully build the Stone Array Formation to block Master Lotus's Psyche Power attack, would Master Lotus use the Practice of Taotie to recover his strength first, or would Ning Que first comprehend the Haoran Sword Style and wake up from the muddled state?
Ning Que did not know that the situation was so dangerous. He did not know what kind of sacrifice and effort the Calligraphy Addict and Tao Addict had made in order to prevent Lotus from interrupting his inexplicable state of cultivation. He did not know what he was doing. He did not know why he felt close to the sword marks and flames. His body and even the aura in his body subconsciously followed the direction of the sword marks. He even forgot everything that had happened previously and the world outside of himself.
This state was very dangerous. It was like a naked baby walking in the dangerous wilderness without any weapons, and could be injured and eaten by wild beasts at any time. But it was also because this state was full of innocence and innocence, clean and transparent, without a speck of dust, that it could sincerely accept the projection of the outside world on its mind.
This state was called Emptiness.
Ning Que felt very good and powerful in the Emptiness state.
In front of him was only the stone wall, the roof, and the four walls of the green stone wall. The mottled sword marks on the stone wall seemed to have come to life, entering his soul through his eyes and evolving into countless things.
Like the stars moving in the night sky, like the stream jumping in the valley, like the clouds floating in the blue sky, like the mountains standing proudly in the world, like a traveler walking happily on the road.
Those sword marks started to flow, forming traces, like a book gradually turning its pages. On each page, there were clear diagrams. Those diagrams seemed to be some kind of magical footwork, some kind of powerful sword technique, and some kind of magical cultivation technique. But at the same time, they were nothing, just some kind of meaning, some kind of attitude.
He followed the sword mark in his eyes and began to imitate walking. He began to wield the knife like a sword, began to think silently, and began to savor it with a smile. His steps became smoother and smoother, and the podao he held became more and more fluid.
Vaguely, he comprehended something on a deeper level.
The sword marks that Youngest Martial Uncle left on the bluestone wall were actually just to express some kind of emotion.
His steps became smoother and smoother, and his saber swings became smoother and smoother. In the end, he felt carefree.
If a traveler wanted to see more of the world and forget the fatigue and pain of the journey, he should dance and sing as he walked.
The mountains stood alone in the world, and had to ignore the worship of the common people to be free, so they should be proud and awe-inspiring.
The clouds stopped or floated in the blue sky because they were following the direction of the wind.
The stream flowed down the valley, and had to treat every collision with the stone as a game. It rushed down briskly with the attraction of the earth, creating countless beautiful splashes. This was called jumping.
The stars in the night sky were either still or moving, and just smiled at the world according to their own thoughts.
Everything was as it should be.
This was a carefree feeling that was called as it should be.
Because it should be, even if thousands of people were in front of me, I would go when I wanted to.
I had a Great Spirit, so I should be free to go.
This was the truth between the heaven and the earth.
…
…
In his badly damaged sense of perception, the Psyche Power that he had obtained from meditation for more than ten years began to flow slowly like the clouds, the stars, and the stream. It began to be as still as a mountain, and began to be as cheerful as a traveler.
The sword style contained in the mottled sword marks on the stone wall floated along with the faint phosphorescence and gradually penetrated into his body. As his mind was enlightened, the sword style sped up and then began to flow with the Psyche Power, stopping and jumping.
He did not know what kind of existence these sword styles were. After entering his body, they turned into a warm flow and repaired his sense of perception in a very short time. Then they continued to pierce his Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi from between his eyebrows.
The feeling of his sense of perception being repaired and moisturized was very good. Ning Que stood in front of the stone wall with the knife in his hand, unaware of everything outside. But his eyebrows unconsciously stretched, and then suddenly tightened, feeling a very strong pain in his chest and abdomen.
The sword style in the mottled sword marks raged in his body, as if it had turned into thousands of real small swords rampaging, cutting the meridians and viscera invisible to the naked eye until they were dripping with blood and poking thousands of holes.
This was more terrifying than the Tao Addict's tens of thousands of Taoist Swords by the Daming Lake.
Then the thousands of small swords flew to the Snow Mountain in his waist and abdomen, and began to hit it constantly. The sharp edges easily cut off the hard ice between the Snow-capped Peak, and countless snowflakes burst out. The speed of the sword style hitting the Snow Mountain was getting faster and faster, and in the blink of an eye, it had completed millions of cuts. The cutting of the swords and the ice gradually accumulated a terrible high temperature, and the Snow Mountain, which had been frozen for countless years, began to melt into water and converged upward into the Ocean of Qi.
Thousands of small swords flew up again in his body or consciousness, and flew to the calm Ocean of Qi. Still like hitting the Snow Mountain, they began to silently and attentively cut hundreds of millions of times. The calm Ocean of Qi began to roll, stirring up huge waves, as if it was boiling, and finally it began to boil into a mist that covered the sky.
The Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi melted and evaporated into mist, and slowly moved forward in his body according to some kind of channel. Every time it met a certain place, some mist would be left behind, and then condensed into dew and began to moisten it.
With the constant moistening of the dew condensed by the mist, those body parts began to decompose and reconstruct, just like an old house being dismantled and then rebuilt. But the rebuilt house was so beautiful, so strong, and supported by the pillars, that it was not afraid of rain and wind at all.
Ning Que felt that as the warmth flowed through his body, there seemed to be innumerable strength re-pouring into his muscles and bones. This feeling was very comfortable, good, and powerful, and intoxicating and unwilling to wake up.
The sword marks on the mottled stone walls were still moving slowly, and the sword style in the deep sword marks was still entering his body, turning into countless small swords that kept bombarding the Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi, nourishing and strengthening his body.
Time passed minute by minute.
Ning Que, who was in pain and intoxication, suddenly felt a shadow in his heart. Even though he was in a state of emptiness, he felt that his body had become cold, because he suddenly thought of something and began to have a great fear.
If he allowed this majestic sword style to continue, wouldn't his Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi be pierced through? If the Qi openings that he had painstakingly opened disappeared, would he still be able to cultivate?
Because of fear, because of uneasiness, he suddenly woke up.
He looked at the mottled sword marks on the wall uneasily. He was covered in cold sweat, and the place between his palm and the hilt of the sword was cold and slippery.
These sword marks, these sword styles, were Youngest Uncle's Haoran Sword.
He finally understood what Master Lotus meant by that.
Cultivating the Haoran Sword depended on the Great Spirit in one's chest.
In order to cultivate the Great Spirit, one had to betray Haotian, and even become enemies with Haotian.
To be enemies with Haotian, one would be a Devil.
And the moment Youngest Uncle held this sword, he had already become a Devil.
That was why Youngest Uncle was finally punished by Heaven and died.
He had already understood the Haoran Sword style, and if he accepted the sword style into his body as Qi, he would inherit Youngest Uncle's legacy.
And he would become a Devil.
Continuing Youngest Uncle's legacy was an honorable and proud thing.
However, it was also the most dangerous thing in the world.
Even a peerless figure like Youngest Uncle could not escape the fate of being destroyed once he became a Devil.
If he learned the Haoran Sword, how many more days could he live in this world?
…
…
Ning Que looked around in confusion.
In the Bone Mountain, the old monk was silently cultivating the Devil's Skill. Ye Hongyu was unconscious under him.
Seeing that he had finally woken up, Mo Shanshan smiled with difficulty. She could no longer support her body and fainted on the ground.
Night had already covered the world outside the mountain, and the room was extremely dark.
He stood in front of the Bone Mountain with his sword. His clothes were drenched in cold sweat, and he did not know how to move forward.
The sword marks on the mottled stone wall stopped flowing, and he waited silently.
The sword style in his body stopped flowing, and he waited silently.
His will was also waiting silently for the final decision.
Once he became a Devil, even someone like Lotus could only hide in the dark. If he wanted to walk proudly in the world like Youngest Uncle, no matter what state he cultivated to, he would still be punished by Heaven and die.
Ning Que looked up at the sky, but he could not see anything. He could only see the cold stone wall and the color of the night.
For a cultivator, this was the most difficult decision.
Their reverence for Haotian would make them not dare to touch that dark world.
Even cultivators who did not have the slightest reverence for Haotian would struggle due to the terrifying consideration of life and death. They would probably think hard for half their lives and still not come to a final conclusion.
It seemed that he had been thinking and struggling for a lifetime.
In fact, he had only thought for a short time when thirty green onions fell from his small palm onto the fried egg noodles.
He wanted to live.
He wanted to live with someone.
That was the most important thing.
Compared to him, Haotian was just a pile of shit.
Shit.
…
…
Ning Que raised his podao until it was level with his eyebrows.
This was the last time he prayed to Heaven.
Then the podao fell.
The blade fell on the stone wall.
It fell on the sword marks left by Youngest Uncle.
He turned his wrist and moved the blade. Following the two sword marks, he moved to the left and then to the right.
Phosphorescence danced under the blade, like stars leaving the night sky.
With this simple action, the sword style that had been waiting silently suddenly rose.
Countless small swords condensed together and came down from the Ocean of Qi, splitting the Snow Mountain.
At this moment, Ning Que knew that he had entered a new world.
The Psyche Power in his sense of perception was still there, but it was no longer playing the zither to the heaven and earth. Instead, it created a beautiful new world in his body. There were trees, lakes, mountains and seas in that world, waiting for life to flourish here.
There was an additional passage between the Snow Mountain and the Ocean of Qi. It seemed that the passage had always existed, but it was blocked and could not be seen. At this moment, it finally showed its true appearance. The majestic sword style turned into some kind of substantial aura and whistled through the passage. It was vast and boundless, rushing straight into the sky. It was so fast.
It was the Great Spirit.
A slight sound of airflow was heard. Dust and debris splashed out from Ning Que's body.
His eyes were crystal clear, and then they slowly became normal.
…
…
(The second chapter, there is still an ending to this big plot. But these are all the drafts. They will all be released today. I am happy and sad at the same time.) (To be continued. If you like this work, please come to Qidian.Com to vote for me. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
