Something's wrong with my sword spirit

He took a dust-free cloth and wiped it carefully. Originally, the store had told us that a good sword needs to be plated, and that the blade should be rubbed back and forth to generate heat. If possible, it is best to apply some oil when rubbing to prevent rust.

It's just that he thought at that time that Qing Heng had a sense of touch, and that the sword folding might make him uncomfortable, so he never did it.

When he was wiping the scabbard, Qing Heng leaned over the bucket, watching him quietly.

There was wind howling outside the window, the windows had already been closed tightly, the cold wind hit the window lattice, whistling, the room was hot, and the water vapor permeated the windows.

Yanjin chatted casually: "I want to add another floor above this house, what do you think?"

"Isn't it enough to live now?"

Yan Jin thought that you are already a human being, so I must give you a house, so he only said: "Prepare early, we will add more people in the future."

"What kind of population will be added?"

What do you look like you ask me?

He smiled secretly: "Beauty."

The water splash moved, Yan Jin raised his eyes, and saw that Qing Heng had quietly turned into a human again, with his arms lying on the side of the bucket, his head resting on it, his black hair hanging down his white shoulders, the water vapor condensed into beads, Slowly rolling down his neck.

Yan Jin was speechless for a while, wanted to get up, but felt that it was too obvious to go out at this time, so he had to sit still, his eyes only staring at the scabbard in his hand.

Qing Heng seemed to have forgotten his own form at this time, and moved closer to him: "Are you... ready to get married?"

"Huh?" He was startled, "No."

"Then...do you want to raise a child?"

"Where did I get my child?"

"Take an apprentice?"

"I don't accept it."

"Looking for your family?"

"I'm not human, I don't have a family..." Pooh, how can I scold myself?

However, they are not human.

"Oh." Qing Heng couldn't think of any other relationship, he fell back into the water, only showing his head, and answered his words seriously, "The two floors are good, but it's not easy to go up in a wheelchair."

"That's right." Yan Jin smiled lightly, I want to go to your room in the future, but I can't.

Then what should I do, even if I want to bully you, I can't bully you?

But won't I go up?

Chatted for a while, but Qingheng seemed to be silent, no longer answering his words, he was boring talking to himself, and stopped talking, and wiped the scabbard over and over again, and there was really nothing left to wipe.

So leaning on crutches, she went to the front of the window to take a sip of tea: "Have you finished washing?"

Qing Heng replied: "Okay." He probably forgot his own shape and stood up.

Just as Yan Jin turned his head, he suddenly spewed out a mouthful of tea: "You..."

Before Qing Heng could react, he turned to face him: "What's wrong?"

Flame Ember: "..."

He was almost choked to death by the tea, turned around and coughed for a while, then drank another cup of tea: "Are you really done washing?"

"It's finished washing." Qingheng's voice suddenly approached his ears.

He froze and turned his head slowly.

I saw the head of the sword dangling in front of my eyes.

He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked his heart: "Won't you catch a cold when you come out like this?"

"Fortunately, the room is very warm."

"When you feel cold, you've already caught a cold." He wrapped a cloth towel around Qing Heng, and was about to press it under the quilt, but Qing Heng said, "Are you only cleaning the scabbard today, not the sword?"

"I……"

"I said before that I want to fight for you. You must be familiar with me. If you keep a sword normally, you can't stop wiping it for a day."

Yan Jin looked back, fixedly looked at him, and nodded after a while: "Okay."

He unwrapped the cloth towel that had just been wrapped, the tentacles were warm, and Qing Heng's body was still warm from the water.

He was slightly taken aback.

On weekdays, he always wiped the blade idly, but now when he accidentally touched it, the temperature of his fingertips made him uneasy for a while.

So he didn't let go, his fingers lingered on the blade, but the blade was still mottled and uneven. He had asked the foundry before how to repair these scars, but the other party said it could be remade, so he had no choice but to give up.

Now even touching and looking at it, I think of his phantasmagorized appearance. If I said I just felt sorry before, now I feel more distressed.

He wiped it carefully, brushed it with his fingertips, and felt the sword tremble slightly.

Quickly asked: "What's the matter, did it hurt you?"

"No, it's a little... itchy."

"Then I take it easy?"

"The lighter the more itchy."

"Is that heavier?"

"It will hurt again."

"..."

Yan Jin said in his heart: "I'm not willing to let you go into battle. The sword has no eyes, and it collides with other weapons. What if there is something wrong with it?"

He weighed it: "Look, Qingheng, as for me, I plan to stay here forever, I have no enemies, I don't need to kill enemies, and you don't need to go into battle."

Qing Heng didn't make a sound.

"Are you unhappy?" He organized his words, "I really don't need you because of your crippled sword. I don't need you. Don't you think I'm a nice person? I never make grudges with others, right? If you don’t fight, I form a bond with you because I want to protect you, not you to protect me.”

Qing Heng remained silent.

"Don't be upset, okay?" He shook his sword head, "Okay, let me tell you the truth, do you remember what I said before, my original setting is that I have an opposite relationship with your fairy sect, if If I really have any enemies, I guess it will be a conflict with your Chen Mingzong, then, which side will you... be on?"

"Look, you don't talk anymore, you are also hesitating, so don't worry about this matter, I don't want you to work hard for me."

"Qing Heng, do you understand?"

"Qingheng..."

Yan Jin's heart tightened, and he shook the blade vigorously: "Qing Heng, what's wrong with you?"

The blade of the sword trembled violently, Qing Heng transformed into a human form suddenly, opened his eyes and looked at him: "What's wrong?"

"No, I'm asking what's wrong with you?" Yan Jin leaned back a little.

He was just sitting on the edge of the bed wiping the sword on his lap, but at this moment the other party suddenly turned into a human and straddled him.

Although you can't touch it, you can't feel the temperature close to it, but you can see it clearly because you are so close.

The point is, the sword spirit hasn't worn the scabbard yet.

Qing Heng was also aware of this problem, and wanted to restore the sword body in a hurry, but the more anxious he became, the more he couldn't go back.

He froze for a moment.

Yan Jin was also taken aback for a moment.

Then remind him: "Are you cold, do you want to go to bed first?"

"Yes." Qing Heng quickly rolled over from him, grabbed the quilt to wrap himself.

When there was no more movement, Yan Jin turned around, saw that he was lying down well, his body was covered, only his face was exposed, and he let out a long sigh of relief: "What happened to you just now?"

"I want to seal the spiritual consciousness." Qing Heng said seriously, "The spiritual weapons that go into battle must seal the spiritual consciousness, but usually it is the master who seals it, but I think you may not be able to, so I plan to give it a try. It's okay." He looked aggrieved, "But I only closed it for a while."

"It's not the time to go into battle just now, so why seal it?"

With the spiritual consciousness closed, Qing Heng has no perception, it is only equivalent to an ordinary sword, and Yan Jin doesn't even have a speaker.

Qing Heng was silent for a while, then said slowly: "You can wipe..."

"feeling bad?"

"No, it's not uncomfortable..." The other party frowned slightly, "I can't say it well, it's just... a strange feeling."

A subtle feeling that makes people want to avoid but yearn for no reason.

Yanjin said: "Is it because my technique is different from usual?"

He feels that nothing has changed... There should be no change.

But I didn't know that he could become a human before, but I knew it later, but I didn't see it clearly. Now that I can see it clearly, I have a concrete form. Maybe...he was blinded by the lingering water vapor, and he couldn't tell the difference between a human being and a human being. sword?

He tucked in the quilt lightly, got up and opened the door: "I will disperse the moisture in the room, and move the bathtub out."

"Aren't you going to take a shower?"

"I'm going out to wash."

"Is not It Cold?"

"It's not cold, it's hot." He opened the door, and the wind blew across his cheeks, and the water vapor gradually dispersed.

After washing up, he put on his underwear and went back to the room, and saw that Qing Heng had fallen asleep.

The sleeping sword spirit...forgot to change back into the sword body.

"So... where do I sleep?" He raised his eyebrows. Anyway, he couldn't touch him, but he could lift the quilt and sleep next to him, but because he couldn't touch him, he was afraid that he would be crushed and squeezed. The quilt...he can see it now, can't he?

He shook his head with a wry smile, sat in front of the window, opened the window a little, accompanied by two red candles, and was bored, flipping through those rice papers.

Some rice papers are very beautifully made. They are not sold one by one, but bound together and sold as a book. He bought this as a book, and he also gave a copybook as a gift, which was sandwiched between the pages. He dug it out and read it Looking at it by candlelight, there are two vertical lines of ink on the copybook:

"Bai Xue especially hates the late spring, so she wears the courtyard as flying flowers."

I had to look carefully again, but suddenly a gust of wind blew the copybook away.

He wanted to chase out the door, but the paper was already flying away, he came back resentfully, secretly glanced at the sleeping Qing Heng, his heart was not good, and he broke Qing Heng's favorite things.

But after a while, I thought again, why don't I write another one and put it in there, the handwriting is clear and horizontal, so I may not read it carefully.

However, he scanned the table and found that they had bought paper and inkstone, but they had no pen and ink.

Then... I have no choice but to go back and buy a brush and ink to write on, or just buy a copybook. Before that, I can't let Qing Heng know. He carefully pressed the page back under the inkstone, pretending that it had never been touched. look.

After putting it away, he sat bored for a while, the light green curtains were like thin and light smoke, and the fresh air of bamboo puffed into his nostrils. He stretched and thought again: "Why don't I go to sleep?"

Qing Heng is not a girl, and I am not a girl, so what are you trying to avoid?

If they are all so particular, those bathhouses and hot springs will not need to be opened.

He made up his mind, went back to the bed, and lifted the quilt in one go... Forget it, forget it.

He just raised a corner and gave up again: "Forget it, let's not wake him up."

Anyway, not very sleepy.

Sitting back in front of the window again, looking out at the moon, the moon is the same in the past and present, but at this time the moon is clearer than before.

He thought of the moon in his memory. In the world when he came here, the moonlight was always blurry, and there were no stars twinkling.

What I remember most clearly is people, subway entrances, railway stations, airports, everywhere there are people coming and going, people walking in a hurry, running around non-stop.

Gradually sleepiness struck, he fell asleep at the desk, at dawn, Qing Heng sat up slowly, looked blankly, and saw that he was still awake.

The scabbard was placed beside the bed, Qing Heng didn't become a human together with the scabbard yesterday, the scabbard was still the scabbard.

He looked down at himself again, but he was in human form.

He quickly transformed into a sword, the blade couldn't get into the sheath by himself, he had to wait for Yanjin to help him.

But I couldn't bear to wake him up, so I flew beside him, watching him sleep with his arms on his pillow, and the rice paper under the inkstone was blown by the wind again, rattling.

The author has something to say: "Bai Xue hates the late spring, so she wears the courtyard as flying flowers" to adapt the poem in Han Yu's "Spring Snow", the original sentence "Bai Xue hates the late spring, so she wears the garden trees as flying flowers."