The night breeze poured down from the collapsed half of the tea house roof, blowing a chill down Qin Zhao's neck. He sat on the crooked legged wooden stool, leaning against the broken wall, with his fingers resting on the dark lines on his left wrist. The warmth beneath his skin persisted, as if a cat's paw was gently scratching.
He had just kicked the steward away, cleared the alleyway, and voices were gradually rising on the street, but he didn't move.
In the battle just now, Liuyun Dark Gold Armor swallowed three bone piercing nails, leaving no mark on his shoulder. On the contrary, the door in his mind shook violently.
He knew he couldn't delay any longer.
If we wait any longer, the Qin family will send more than just a law enforcement officer. It's possible that the elder guards will come with soul chains to trap people. He needs to first figure out what this thing in his head is - whether it's a blessing or a curse, he has to take a look before he can plan.
He closed his eyes and slowed down his breathing.
Recognizing the chaos in the sea is like the lake before a rainstorm. You can't see anything clearly in the fog. He tried to sink his consciousness and as soon as he leaned forward, his left wrist suddenly twitched, causing him to almost open his eyes in pain.
It's not a physical pain, it's because the divine sense is stuck by something, like a wire wrapped in the brain, the harder it gets, the tighter it gets.
Fuck... "he cursed softly, a layer of sweat oozing from his forehead." Just woke up and put on some strength for me? Is Guixu Treasure House a gym? Do we still need to do stretching first
He didn't rush, instead he stopped.
Sitting against the wall, fingers gently circling around the wrist, like rubbing a hot copper coin. He remembered the few hidden weapons in the alley, the Flowing Cloud Dark Gold Armor automatically protecting the master, and even he himself didn't react. His clothes moved first.
What does this mean?
This indicates that the body has started to adapt to some rules.
Just like the built-in system of a mobile phone, you don't need to understand the code, but you can take photos by clicking on the camera. What he needs to do now is not to forcefully remove the motherboard, but to find the power button.
He took a deep breath, no longer forcing his consciousness to sink, but following the hot flow of his left wrist, guiding it bit by bit, like taking a disobedient dog for a walk. He couldn't pull it too hard, he had to let it walk on its own.
One circle, two circles.
The heat sensation became increasingly apparent, as if half a cup of warm wine had been poured into the blood vessels, slowly surging towards the top of the head.
Finally, a crack opened in the mist of the sea of knowledge.
That door has appeared again.
Dark, tall, and boundless, like a wall standing in the center of an abyss. There was no light or sound in the crack of the door, but one could feel something moving inside - not living or dead, more like a sealed storm, slowly spinning.
Qin Zhao's consciousness was carefully attached.
This time, the door did not resist.
Instead, it felt like sensing something and slowly sliding towards both sides with a slight gap.
It's not space or emptiness inside, but a twisted dark purple airflow, like a disturbed galaxy, and like the last moment before the lava cools to the extreme.
Before he could take a closer look, a line of words suddenly appeared on the storefront.
Scarlet, in ancient script, as if written with blood, every stroke carries a sharp burning sensation:
**Every time it is sealed until it is precious, the previous obsession must be severed**
Qin Zhao's pupils contracted.
Zhi Zhen? 'Obsession'?
Is this a rule?
He stared at the line of words and read it repeatedly, his mind spinning rapidly. His first reaction to the instinct of modern tycoons is that this thing comes at a cost and is not light.
Sure enough, every time I read it, a picture flashed through my mind: at the moment when he snatched the deadly dagger, purple energy overflowed from the blade and penetrated into my limbs and bones. The feeling of soaring power was so satisfying, but looking back now, there was an indescribable sense of division, as if the dagger should not have belonged to him.
Especially when he tried to touch the crack in the door with his mind, a recoil directly shook him back, causing the sea of consciousness to churn and burning his left eyebrow bone in real life.
He raised his hand and touched it, his fingertips burning hot, and the faint golden crack throbbing faintly.
Warning? "He sneered." Does that mean if I want to exchange it for another treasure now, I have to 'put down' this broken dagger first? This treasure trove of emotions is still a spiritual mentor, specializing in cultivating the heart and overcoming calamities
The more he thought about it, the more absurd he felt.
Collaborating with others to cultivate through meditation and alchemy, while his cultivation relies on "breaking away from separation"? Who designed this system? Did a psychological counselor switch to working as a gold finger?
But he didn't laugh for too long.
Because just as he reached out to stroke the phantom image of the life-threatening dagger that appeared in the sea of knowledge, a voice suddenly sounded.
Little one, this dagger is not precious enough
Female voice, light laughter, ethereal, as if drifting from afar, or as if exploding directly in his mind.
Qin Zhao's whole body stiffened.
This sound is not from the outside world, nor is it a hallucination.
It carried a strange resonance, penetrating his divine barrier and reaching deep into his soul.
He suddenly withdrew his hand, cutting off the connection with the phantom of the dagger, and a cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
Who is it
He opened his eyes and looked around. There was only the sound of wind passing through the broken tiles in the tea house, and the street outside was quiet. The sky had not yet lit up, and not even the vendors from the morning market had come out.
No one.
But the laughter still echoes in my ears, with a hint of mockery, a hint of playfulness, and even a hint of anticipation?
He closed his eyes again, and the sea of knowledge sank again.
The door is still there, with the blood lettering still on, but there is already a blurry figure at the position where he spoke just now.
Silver long hair, armor outline, holding a residual halberd, with a figure faintly visible, as if watching people through a water curtain.
Ji Xue?
incorrect.
He had never seen her in person, but his intuition told him that this shadow was related to him.
Without waiting for him to take a closer look, the figure suddenly smiled, lips not moving, and the voice had already reached: "If you don't hold onto your thoughts, what's the use of sealing them off? If you don't even know what you want, how can you talk about plundering
Before the words could finish, the entire figure suddenly disintegrated, turning into countless dots of light and disappearing like ashes in the depths of the Sea of Knowledge.
Boom -
A tremendous force suddenly stirred his consciousness, as if someone had poked his brain with a latte stick, and his consciousness was almost instantly lost.
Qin Zhao let out a muffled snort and suddenly opened his eyes!
He gasped heavily, his chest heaving violently, and cold sweat trickled down his forehead, dripping onto his collar, making him shiver with ice.
He lowered his head to take a look.
The dark mark on the left wrist is oozing blood.
Red blood droplets slowly crawled down the skin and dripped onto the edge of the wooden stool, creating a small red dot.
Look at the door, still bleeding? "He wiped his face, gasped for breath, and muttered to himself," This deal is really not cheap
He flicked his sleeve and wiped away the bloodstains, but his gaze slowly darkened.
The phantom just now was not an illusion.
That sentence is not just casual.
Not worthy of being precious enough?
Does it mean that the little thing he has in his hands now cannot be ranked in this treasure trove?
He lowered his head and looked at his hand, which still had calluses from holding the knife last night. That life-threatening dagger did indeed make him kill the gangsters and shake away the people in the law enforcement hall, but in the eyes of Guixu Treasure House, it cannot even be considered "Zhi Zhen"?
What does that count?
Secret treasure? Divine powers? Or... fate?
He didn't know.
But he knew one thing - this treasure trove was much more sinister than he had imagined.
It's not just a storage space, nor is it a simple plundering system.
It seems to have judgment, can appreciate 'value', and even... evaluate him.
Do I still have to go through the motions? "He tugged at the corner of his mouth." Other cultivators are leveling up by fighting monsters, while I specialize in emotional management. Today, I'll cut off a bit of obsession, tomorrow I'll put on a handle, and the day after tomorrow, I have to write an article titled "On Why I Don't Love Her" and submit it for review
The more he thought about it, the more outrageous it became, almost laughing out loud.
After the laughter ended, the unease in my heart grew even heavier.
If this treasure trove can speak and be evaluated, it means it is more than just a tool.
It may have its own purpose.
And he is just a host.
Temporary host.
Okay. "He leaned back against the broken wall and looked up at the hole on the top of the tea house, where a faint light had already seeped in from the horizon." You want to play, don't you? Let's see who controls whom
He moved his wrist to confirm that the Flowing Cloud Dark Gold Armor was still functioning, the temperature sensation at the bottom of his boots was normal, and the nine spatial jade plaques around his waist did not vibrate abnormally.
The body is still active.
Although the divine consciousness is tired, it has not collapsed.
He stood up, patted the dust on the corner of his robe, picked up the wine jug and took a sip.
The inferior burning knife made him cough twice.
Not qualified? "He sneered as he stared at the gradually brightening sky outside the window." Then I'll find someone who is qualified
He straightened his long hair tied up with fragments of thunder halberd, tightened the collar of his black and gold robe, and walked outward.
Outside the abandoned tea shed, the morning mist has not dissipated.
The streets are open, the bluestone slabs are damp, and the first crowing of a chicken can be heard in the distance.
He stood at the door and turned to look at the broken wooden stool.
The bloodstains have dried up.
He turned around and stepped into the morning light.
The wind blew his hem, and the word 'scum' on the wine jug flashed by.
It's like provoking, it's like declaring war.