I Am Loaded with Passive Skills-Chapter 3206 - 1629: In Memory of the Majestic Sky and Flowing Hua, Harmoniously At Present I, With My Sword as the Flying Flower_3
Chapter 3206: Chapter 1629: In Memory of the Majestic Sky and Flowing Hua, Harmoniously At Present I, With My Sword as the Flying Flower_3
He appears no older than his early twenties, born with a lean frame and crane-like bones, with sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, hands clasped behind his waist, as if he could swallow the universe, his eight-foot-tall stature reaching the heavens, clad in a white robe like an exile from heaven.
This person…
This person!!
Wen Ting’s face turned pale then shifted colors repeatedly.
Rubbing his eyes, he still couldn’t accept the appearance of this figure before him.
Suddenly, as if taken ill, he bent forward then quickly shifted his upper body left and right twice, straightened up, his head pecking around like a woodpecker, and finally clutching his chest, thrusting his breath into his chest cavity, his voice stopping the clouds:
“Ah ah ah~my wife~”
This was a breakdown so severe that no amount of random singing could contain the shock in his heart.
“Shut up.”
The expression of the figure in the white robe darkened.
Wen Ting, as if a floodgate had burst open, uncontrollably burst out:
“Are you Bazhun’an?”
“Why are you so young?”
“Who taught you the Youthful Appearance Technique, huh, huh, huh, practicing behind my back…”
“Aren’t you disabled? Show me your fingers!”
“Ah! Ten fingers, you’re not Bazhun’an… Tsk! What kind of demon are you, dressing up as God, playing the devil, Elder Dao the Flamboyant, reveal yourself… oh dear~”
Upon touching the Sword Hemp, Wen Ting flicked his water sleeves, pulled out a streak of flowing light from behind his back, and was about to strike into the air.
“I have no time for nonsense.”
Bazhun’an, motionless, glanced towards the distant sky:
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“I had just sensed the vibrations from the Sword Observation Manual, I could have gone directly there, but that boy suddenly lost contact…”
“Help me traverse the stars, just start the sword, and when we’re a bit closer, I can find him on my own.”
Wen Ting crossed his arms before his chest, silent.
Wen Ting looked around, not uttering a word.
Wen Ting suddenly burst into laughter, “hahaha” incessantly echoing, then suddenly spreading his legs and stretching his arms out, forming a ‘big’ character:
“You!”
His arms quickly moved upward, drawing two semicircles, finally converging at a point above his head:
“Please!”
His legs drew back, his hands slashing diagonally downward, flinging open his long water sleeves:
“Help!”
With water sleeves rolled up and hands on his hips, chin lifted:
“Ah~”
After hearing this four-beat sentence, Bazhun’an’s mouth twitched slightly, eyelids fluttering fiercely, he turned and was about to leave.
But he couldn’t bear it any longer, turning back he said:
“I’ve told you before, a man shouldn’t stay at home too long, let alone stay in the same place for thirty years, it will breed illness.”
Wen Ting laughed maniacally: “Am I sick? Am I sick?”
“Bazhun’an, has a donkey kicked your head? Asking for a favor and you start by insulting me as sick? Hahaha, who’s really sick here?”
“Huh? You tell me! Who’s sick?” His expression became serious.
Bazhun’an: “I am sick.”
Having said that, he turned and left.
“Stay your feet!”
Wen Ting spread his legs, flicked his water sleeves, and from nowhere produced a piece of paper and a pen:
“Write!”
“Write, you plead with me!”
“Signature, Bazhun’an…”
“No! Don’t use that lousy name, sign ‘Yue Gongnu’!”
“Hurry! No one else can help you with this, Elder Dao the Flamboyant is already chasing me, if we delay any longer, they’ll surely die!”
Bazhun’an took a deep breath, using his finger as a pen and his thoughts as ink, swiftly leaving his mark on the paper.
Wen Ting snatched the paper and blew on it.
With a whoosh, the sword cognition on it blew away.
Turning the silver writing dark, he carefully tucked away the paper.
“Sword cognition?” Wen Ting pointed at the translucent Bazhun’an.
Bazhun’an shook his head.
“Sword image?”
Another shake of the head.
“Heavenly Unravel·Sword Image?”
Still shaking his head.
“Will you speak!” Wen Ting looked as if he would start reneging if answers weren’t forthcoming.
“Sword Me.”
These simple words caused Wen Ting’s pupils to dilate, as if he saw the Great Path stripped of adornment, returning to its true essence.
Beneath him, Sky Mountain began to shift…
Snow no more, seasons return;
Verdancy no more, hills lay bare;
Sands no more, high tide approaches.
The tide subsides,…
“Wake up!”
Bazhun’an remotely flicked his finger, causing Wen Ting to stagger backward two steps, waking as if from a dream.
“No time for Enlightenment, take me there.”
Damn it…
You really should die…
Sword Me, what is “Sword Me”…
Wen Ting lowered his eyebrows, his eyes nearly splitting, his threat growling like a wild beast, nearly shattering his back molars, holding back from showing his jealousy.
“Wouldn’t you take a look?” He glanced toward the direction of the Sword Washing Pool.
“No need.”
Oh dear, no need…
Saying two extra words, you’re going to die, are you!
As his heart twisted, believing himself to be as casual as the drifting clouds with a flick of his sleeves, Wen Ting turned around, but the corners of his eyes and mouth uncontrollably twitched twice.
He quickly controlled his expression, gave the Sword Hemp a light slap, and said lightly: “Sword Hemp, see him off.”
“Ying…”
Sword Hemp emitted a sound he hadn’t heard in thirty years, an immensely joyful sword cry that struck a blow to its aloof demeanor.
Sword light shot forth, carrying Bazhun’an’s Sword Me, sweeping into the starry sky.
Wen Ting stood motionless amid the wind and snow.
“Ah——”
After who knows how long, atop Sky Mountain, an out-of-control voice suddenly resounded:
“Sword Hemp!”
“Tell me!”
“Why would you make such a disgusting noise, why?!”
