Something's wrong with my sword spirit

Yanjin smiled: "I didn't fall asleep at all."

He half sat up, took Qing Heng's painting in his hand and looked at it carefully, and praised: "Why don't you take the frame off, and I'll put it on for you."

Qing Heng flew to the second floor to get the frame for him, and he slowly installed the frame, halfway through it he remembered that he had forgotten something very important.

Hastily took out the blue scabbard from his sleeve: "Come on, put it on and let me see."

Qing Heng transformed the sword body, Yan Jin took off the previous yellow scabbard, and quickly replaced it with the blue glazed scabbard.

After changing the sword, there was a flash of light, and a blue figure gradually appeared in front of his eyes. The azure blue satin was spread out, the cuffs were girdled with white piping, and the hair was made of long white jade hairpins. Some scattered hairs were scattered on both sides, making him look a little more relaxed. The dust is peerless, and the cloth is probably mixed with crushed pearls and jade. As long as it is moved, there will be light floating in a trance, and the whole room will be filled with radiance in an instant.

"Does it look good?" Qing Heng asked in a low voice.

It took him a long time to reply: "It looks good."

"Then why have you thought about it for so long?"

"No, I was dumbfounded." He said truthfully.

Qing Heng lowered his eyes slightly, blushed on his face, returned to the swing chair, saw that the sky outside the window was already dusk: "It's evening."

"Yeah." Time passed before he knew it, Yan Jin installed the picture frame and pushed open the door, only to see small snowflakes sandwiched in the drizzle, the first snow in winter came quietly.

After cleaning and sorting out the ingredients for dinner, he put them into the small transparent pot that Yue Xiaohan had always disliked, brought them in, and put them on the small stove to burn.

Put the sauced mutton to boil, add radishes and cabbage, heat up a pot, and a pot of peach blossom wine.

The shadows of lamps and candles in front of the window are dim, and there are also people holding a cup of tea by their side, quietly accompanying them.

When he thought about it carefully, it was not in vain to come to this world.

For some reason after eating, he fell asleep on this soft couch. When he woke up the next day, he saw that Heng was also lying on the couch. It was just the shape of a sword, and the sword head was buried in his arms. Probably felt his movement, and rubbed against his heart, with a tired tone: "Why don't you let me smell your wine?"

He couldn't laugh or cry: "So you still smell it?"

"It's obviously very fragrant."

"Yeah, then... Qing Heng, do you remember why you are lying in my arms?"

The sword slowly emerged from the blanket. Before Yanjin couldn't see and didn't know that he could transform into a human form, he had been pulling him to sleep beside him. At first he was embarrassed, but later he got used to it. At this time, he didn't feel much at all. , just confused: "Yeah, why?"

Yan Jin almost couldn't hold back his laughter, moved the unfinished jug far away, leaned over and said, "Are you going to get up now, or sleep later?"

Qing Heng has already flown out: "Get up now."

It snowed all night, but the first snow is too fine and it will melt when it hits the ground. The mountains are not covered with snow, only the grass and trees are crystal clear. Hoarfrost.

There was a thin layer of ice in the water pool, and it was smashed with a small stick, and the fish were still swimming happily under the ice.

Yan Jin picked up the silk with a bamboo pole, and the eight-leaf silk was dark purple.

The red-gold color of the seven leaves planted the day before yesterday should also grow, so he asked Qing Heng to take a look first.

However, after waiting for a long time, there was no sound, so I couldn't help but get down from the chair out of curiosity, "Didn't something grow?"

Seeing that it flew a few times across the field, stood in the middle and turned around for a while, then turned back to the sword head when he heard the question: "I don't remember where I planted it."

"Seventh row." Yan Jin had already walked over.

"The seventh row... Where is it?"

"Huh?" Could it be that Xianmen only taught him six counts, but he can't do it. He can count leaves to dozens.

Yanjin stood on the edge of the seventh row, looking up, the land was covered with hoarfrost, covering up the clear water puddles before, and the rows and rows were not so clear.

No wonder Qing Heng couldn't find it.

But... this can actually be estimated by feeling.

He smiled helplessly, but it was also a little strange. It stands to reason that the things that should grow could have been seen at a glance.

It was a big battle to grow out of the wall before, suppressing a large area of ​​land.

What kind of delicate thing is growing this time?

He walked to the place where he had planted the day before yesterday, brushed off the hoarfrost, lay on his stomach and looked at it for a long time, and finally pulled out an object from the soil.

It was a small house stone, black and glowing, palm-sized but very heavy, and it took a little effort to hold it in the palm.

"What's the use of this...?" For the first time, he found something growing out of nowhere. It couldn't be eaten, worn, or rewarded. "Sharpening a knife?"

For a knife, the seven leaves of the flower grow a whetstone. Isn't it nice to go to the town to get a new knife?

"Yeah, what's the use of that?" Qing Heng knocked the head of the sword on the stone of the house, and there was a faint light on the stone.

Yanjin was stunned for a moment.

"Can this be sold?"

Yanjin still didn't speak.

"It can't be sold, isn't that a waste?"

"No." Yan Jin finally recovered, "This is the best thing."

His palms trembled slightly, he was so excited that he couldn't hold it back, just now when Qing Heng touched the stone, the floating light moved, and a little scar on the sword head healed in the blink of an eye.

This is what repairs the blade!

He couldn't hold back his emotions, he hurriedly pulled Qing Heng up, and moved Cuo Shi closer to him.

As the stone approached, the fine scars on the sword head dissipated little by little, but there was still a relatively deep mark, which showed signs of becoming shallower, but it failed to completely dissipate.

But this was unexpected, he didn't bother to think about it, and pulled off the scabbard: "Qing Heng, you stand on this rock."

Qing Heng stood obediently on it, and in an instant, several rays of soft light radiated from the stone of the house, pouring into the sword body, those mottled and uneven, potholes, all like bathing in the warm sun, reborn little by little.

After the light from the stone had dissipated, the mottled spots on the sword body had calmed down a lot, only the deeper scars had not healed.

The radiant house stone gradually became transparent, and disappeared in the palm of the hand after a while.

This is a true one-time item, and it will be gone within a moment after it grows.

It is not an ordinary house stone, and it is impossible to buy it even if it costs thousands of dollars.

Fan Yezi didn't need to think about it at all today, he wanted to continue planting stones immediately.

The repaired sword spirit stepped back a little, the blue clothes lightly moved into a human form, and the feeling of clear blood flowing all over his body, he looked at himself happily, and then reached out to touch the person in front of him: "Am I about to have a physical body?"

"Maybe it is." Yan Jin also smiled, seeing that his hand was still passing through his eyes.

The light in Qing Heng's eyes was slightly dimmed, and he moved closer, opening his arms around him.

Still haven't touched it.

However, Yanjin could feel his warm breath spraying on his neck one after another, and he said, "I can feel you."

Qing Heng stood up: "How do you feel?"

"Your breath." But he was still not sure, pointing to his neck, "Come here, try again, you blow here."

Qing Heng approached again, blowing breath from his ear and brushing his neck, his gentle voice was slightly uneasy: "How is it, do you feel it?"

While speaking, her thin lips parted slightly, with a hint of warmth.

"Yes." Yan Jin took a step back, "Very good, don't try it." He turned around, with snow falling between his brows, "It's snowing again."

Qing Heng stretched out his hand to catch it, watching the snowflakes melt into water in his palm: "Yes, it's going to be cold again."

For some reason, Yan Jin, who saw the picture of walking in the snow and sharing white hair, was stunned: "You don't like snow?"

"Oh, not at all." The snow fell more and more heavily, and soon covered his shoulders, Qing Heng shook his clothes, "There is a mountain in Chen Mingzong, and there is snow for many years, I have seen it a lot."

"Then don't read it, let's go into the house." It was snowing in the sky, the sun was not visible, and the sky was a little dark. After eating, he fed the chickens and added straw mats to the chicken coop, and the two of them went in. The house is closed, the door is closed, let him be windy and snowy, and the house is warm.

Qing Heng finished the unfinished painting yesterday, and Yan Jin installed it for him, and the small study room on the second floor instantly became bookish.

After putting it on, he was still half lying on the soft couch, and was sewing with a piece of light red silk, which was left over from last time. He continued to make clothes for Qingheng, but he still didn't believe it. And knee pads, this light red has dark plum embroidery on it, he plans to make a tunic.

Today he didn't dare to warm up the wine. He watched the distant mountains outside the window gradually covered in silver, and sighed that there was no wine, but it was a bit wasted on this beautiful scenery like the sounds of nature.

Qing Heng was good at painting and practiced calligraphy. At this moment, he thought of the changed copybook, thought about it, and asked him: "Why did you change my copybook?"

Yan Jin, who was holding the teacup, froze in his smile: "Ah...ha... I don't think that word is as beautiful as mine."

Qing Heng: "..."

Qing Heng whispered: "Although you are my master, I still want to say that the original copybook looks better."

"Uh... It's not bad that I can write like this."

You have to know, where am I used to using a brush?

Qing Heng said, "Not really."

"Well, how about you teach me?"

"it is good."

Yan Jin had just said it casually, but he didn't want Qing Heng to take it seriously, so he put down his sewing. It doesn't matter whether he learns characters or not, the key is to see how Qing Heng teaches.

Qingheng wanted to move the swing chair in front of him, but seeing it was inconvenient with the back of the chair, he simply moved down the low table on the second floor, and sat on the plush cushion on the ground, leaning against the soft couch, studying ink. Writing: "You are optimistic."

The writing is like flowing water, strong when it is thick, and soft when it is light. After writing, wash the pen and hand it to him: "It's your turn."

"Ah?" Yan Jin frowned, "I want to write?"

"If you don't write, what do you want me to teach?"

"Oh." He took the pen and sat on the ground, imitating the writing posture, but he couldn't write with the feeling of combining hardness and softness.

Qing Heng couldn't stand it, wanted to grab his hand, but failed, so he had to take back the pen: "I can't help you correct it, only you have to read carefully."

Yan Jin turned his head to look, with his arms propped up on the desk, he saw clearly the side face of the desk, a little hair slipped from his shoulders, and the white neck was exposed between the loose hair.

He didn't look at the brush, but unknowingly got closer, and said in a strange way: "Qing Heng, haven't you tried it before, can you feel my breath?"

The author has something to say: tomorrow's update will be changed to 23:00, please understand.

After that, it is still updated at 12 o'clock.