Something's wrong with my sword spirit

The water splashed, the fish scattered everywhere, Qing Heng stood up against the aquatic plants, the pool was not deep, he stood up to the waist, but his whole body was soaked in water.

He tore apart the water plants, with water dripping from his face, he smiled at Yan Jin: "It's not hot anymore."

"..." Yan Jin coaxed softly, "Then come up quickly, okay?"

He can't touch him, and he can't pull him.

Qing Heng reacted for a while before he understood, nodded, and slapped the water surface to spin up.

Water drops scattered all over his body, splashing Yanjin all over his face.

Yan Jin wiped the water off his face, and before he could blink, he saw the flying across the table again, picked up the peach blossom branch in the pot and shook it: "The monster should not run away!"

Flame Ember: "..."

Seeing Qing Heng waving peach branches flying down, the petals fell on his hair and shoulders, he used the peach branches as a sword, piercing barbs until all the petals fell, leaving a bare branch, and threw it back into the pot with his backhand: "Everyone said No other flowers are allowed."

Flame Ember: "..."

Yanjin explained: "I just didn't run out of brewing, so I just inserted it here, and I won't do it in the future."

Qing Heng stood in the courtyard with a dull expression, but he didn't know if he heard it.

After being numb for a while, he smiled again: "Well, I'm going to sleep, where is my bed..."

He turned around and walked towards the table: "Here." While speaking, he stood by the table and closed his eyes for a moment, then flew to the table, lay down on his side, and stopped talking.

Yanjin was stunned for a while.

I was stunned for a while.

He closed his eyes just now, did he want to turn himself into a sword?

But he hasn't changed, he's still in human form!

Moreover, why are you still sleeping on the table? Didn't you always sleep on the bed?

He hurriedly approached and saw that he was curled up on the table, there were still some drops of water on his cheeks, and his closed eyes and eyelashes moved slightly.

He called softly in front of that brow: "Qing Heng, go back to the house and sleep on the bed."

Qing Heng rubbed his eyes, and replied in a daze: "No."

"why?"

"I occupy your bed, and you won't sleep when I sleep."

"No, it's not because of you that I don't sleep." Yan Jin sighed with a smile.

Qing Heng frowned, but did not respond.

Yanjin persuaded again: "Be obedient, go back to the house quickly."

"No." The person lying down waved his hand and turned to the other side, "I took your place, you are unhappy, you have to raise other flowers."

Yanjin turned around the table and looked at his face again: "No, you have already thrown away all the peach blossoms."

"But you still have to raise beauties."

"You are a beauty."

"I am a flower... no, I am a sword, no, no, no, I am..." His voice gradually became weaker, a little murmured like sobbing.

Yanjin called a few more times, and seeing that he didn't respond anymore, he was already asleep, so he was helpless: "How can I get you back into the house?"

He lightly touched Qing Heng's shoulder, without any accident, his hands were empty, but he could touch him with other things, for example, pick with a bamboo pole.

But Qingheng is a person now, and the bamboo pole is not thick enough to support the person into the house. He wants to pick up the wheelchair next to the table, then use the bamboo pole to push the person onto the wheelchair, and then use the wheelchair to send him in.

But how can you ensure that you just fall on the wheelchair and sit firmly? What if you fall on the ground or get stuck on the wheel?

And it hurts to push it with a bamboo pole.

How about taking out the bedding and covering him up, and letting him sleep outside?

It's okay that the weather is cold, the goose feather quilt is quite warm, but he just dived into the pool, his clothes are all wet, when the quilt is covered, the wet and cold clothes are all stuck to his body, coupled with the cold wind, it's no wonder he doesn't get sick tomorrow morning.

After thinking about it, he went back to the house and took the quilt and put it next to him, and then picked up his clothes with a bamboo pole.

Just remove the soaked clothes and put on the bedding immediately.

As soon as he picked up his collar, there was the sound of footsteps, Yue Xiaohan was out of breath, and when he raised his eyes, he was stunned: "Master, are you...fishing?"

Why are you fishing at the table? It's because they raised fish in wine glasses?

Yanjin held the bamboo pole: "Why are you here at this time?"

"Xiao You forgot to take the book." The visitor glanced under the tree, picked up the lost book, and came over curiously, "Are you..."

"Take off his clothes." Yan Jin said bluntly, "I can't touch him, and neither can his clothes and accessories, that's all I can do."

Yue Xiaohan was even more astonished: "I can't even touch you and still... take off your clothes?"

"Yeah, I gotta get my wet clothes off."

Yue Xiaohan raised his eyes to look at the bamboo pole, and saw that he was already sitting several feet away in order to hold the other end of the bamboo pole: "Although, but, master, is it easy for you to hold such a long bamboo pole?"

"It's a bit troublesome."

"Then why don't you change to a shorter one?"

"Well... I don't remember."

"..."

Yue Xiaohan said: "Master, you can't meet Sword Immortal, you can't wake him up, and you want him to sleep in the house?"

"Well, I have thought of many ways, but none of them work."

Yue Xiaohan: "Master, can't you just push the table into the room?"

Flame Ember: "..."

Hmm, didn't remember.

Yue Xiaohan helped him move the table into the room and pushed it to the side of the bed. When the table tilted again, the person lying on it rolled down onto the bed.

The bed was covered with cotton batting, and when Qing Heng rolled down, he rolled up the quilt around him, it was soft and soft, he didn't wake up, he just rubbed against the corner of the quilt.

"There is no wind in the room, and it's okay if the clothes are wet. After covering it tightly, it will be warm and dry in the middle of the night, but why are the Sword Immortals wet?" Yue Xiaohan moved the table back outside again.

"He jumped into the pool." Yan Jin said truthfully.

"...Did you quarrel?"

"No ah."

Xiaoyue rubbed the back of his head and said, "Uncle Shen next door quarreled with my aunt, and my aunt would throw herself into the lake when she got angry, and Uncle Shen immediately relented."

Yanjin: "We really didn't quarrel."

No, how could we have the same relationship with the Shen family couple.

Xiaoyue still didn't believe it.

He swore: "I can't quarrel with him, I promise."

After swearing, he frowned again: Why should I promise you.

Xiaoyue finally believed it, said goodbye and went down the mountain.

Yan Jin sat on the edge of the bed, looked at Qing Heng's sleeping face, and sighed.

He turned to the window, took the cinnabar plum and poured some water, then put it back gently, remembering that the copybook hadn't been written yet, so he took advantage of the gap to write the copybook, dried it and sandwiched it in the rice paper.

The clothes are seamless, Qing Heng will definitely not be able to find out.

After clamping it, he went back to the bed, thinking that he didn't go to sleep in the bed yesterday, Qing Heng thought he had taken his bed, but he felt guilty all the time, so he didn't worry too much, and went to bed after washing.

Isn't Qingheng wearing clothes today? What's the matter?

With all his might, he lifted the quilt and lay down. After all, if he moved slowly, he would hesitate again.

Qing Heng woke up at dawn, opened his eyes, but smelled the warm breath on his face, raised his eyes, a few rays of sunlight came in, and the eyelashes cast mottled shadows on Yan Jin's cheeks.

He got up quietly, walked to the window, saw that the rice paper had been moved again, so he opened it to read.

Then I couldn't figure it out: Why did the missing copybook come back?

Look carefully, oh, the handwriting is different.

He looked back puzzled: why throw away the original copybook and write a new one?

The rewritten one is just... The master may not have practiced calligraphy, Qing Heng thought.

While flipping through the paper, Yan Jin also woke up, raised his hand to block the sun, and saw Qing Heng standing by the window, his warm golden clothes seemed to be covered with a thin golden glow in the morning light, and the silk ribbon in his hair With a slight flick, there are red plums on the sleeves.

The person by the window heard the voice, and looked back in Bo Huizhong: "Are you awake?"

Yanjin stared at it for a while, and said intentionally, "Qingheng, where are you?"

"By the window, didn't you hear it?" It seems that I never need to say where I am.

"Oh." Yan Jin smiled and rubbed his head, "I'm confused, last night I was drunk by a cup of peach blossom wine."

"Drunk after just one drink?" Qing Heng pursed his lips, "You are too drunk."

Flame Ember: "..."

He was helpless: "Yes, I really can't handle alcohol. It's not just one cup, but the smell of alcohol. I get drunk when I smell it. But what you say means that my Qingheng's alcohol capacity is very good?"

The person by the window plucked Hongmei: "It should be fine."

Flame Ember: "..."

Where did you get your confidence from?

He got out of bed, turned the wheelchair to the window, Qing Heng turned his face to face him, and explained seriously: "What I said is true, I am a sword spirit, and it is my sword body that flows the wine, not flesh and blood, of course not. will be drunk."

"What kind of messed up theory is this?" Yan Jin couldn't help laughing.

After laughing for a while, another question came to mind: "Yes, you have no flesh and blood."

Is it always like this... untouchable?

Qing Heng said: "The sword spirits of other people's homes have entities."

"Really?"

"Well, I...maybe I'm not capable enough."

"It's okay, don't worry, it doesn't matter whether there is a body or not." Yan Jin comforted him, and then asked, "Does Chen Mingzong have other sword spirits?"

Didn't he say last time that the sword that gave birth to the sword spirit is hard to come by, and you can't find a second one?

"Chen Mingzong doesn't have it, but...there should be some in the world. I read it in the book of Xianmen. There are several pages in the Xianmen course that are devoted to how to maintain the sword spirit."

"Oh?" Yan Jin was very interested, so there is still knowledge in this, so is my method right?

He carefully recalled his maintenance process, wiped the sword body and scabbard every day, sewed clothes for him, fetched bath water, made tea, planted flowers, hugged him to sleep, and gave him the bed to sleep.

Are these enough?

Qing Heng said: "Wipe the sword body and scabbard every day."

"Well, that's right."

"Grease the sword."

"This one……"

"Then let the sword spirit learn various fighting moves and practice three hundred times a day."

"what?"

"Let the sword spirit absorb the spiritual energy and circulate the small Zhoutian three hundred times a day."

"Aren't you tired of so many things?"

"At night, you still need to bathe in the moonlight and absorb the essence of the moon."

"Do not you sleep?"

"Hmm...a sword spirit with high spiritual power doesn't need to sleep, I..."

"It's okay, you have to sleep." Yan Jin wanted you to come out every night to enjoy the cool breeze and enjoy the moonlight, so I don't feel at ease, so can I sleep soundly?

Also, what kind of moves to practice, what kind of spiritual energy to spit out, Qingheng of his family hurts when touched hard, can he be so tossed?

"If you don't maintain it in this way, your spiritual power will not increase, and you may not be able to give birth to an entity."

"Is this called maintenance?" Yan Jin thought to himself, "Is it really his own sword spirit who has formed a pact with blood, so hard-hearted?" He shook his head, "It may not be suitable for all sword spirits, you know, you can't do it all letter book."

"Really?"

"Of course it is."

"okay."

Yanjin smiled, seeing him blinking his eyes full of doubts, suddenly there was some impulse, wanting to touch his eyebrows.