How to cough up blood

That night.

Fuzhi put on his clothes and lay on the couch.

He was still thinking about the fluctuations before the awakening of the soul fragments captured at that moment during the day.

"Ah Ruan, you really didn't sense it?"

Ah Ruan honestly: "No."

Fuzhi stopped talking.

Ah Ruan rolled around in front of his eyes, "Master, why are you irritating Yin Lingxi?"

Fuzhi only knows more about the effect of Huanqing Gu than Yin Lingxi. What he said just now was clearly intended to make Yin Lingxi think that the one he really likes is actually Gu Mianliang.

"Is this good for the Raiders?"

Fuzhi closed his eyes: "...do you still remember what I told you yesterday?"

Ah Ruan hummed, and repeated: "What you can't get is the best."

"Then let me teach you one more thing," Fuzhi said wearily, "...the ones that aren't yours are the best..." Even if you got it.

Ah Ruan:?

not understand well.

But it looked at its master who was about to fall asleep, so it obediently didn't continue to ask.

The bedroom fell silent.

While drowsy, a very faint wisp of devilish energy floated in from outside.

Fuzhi's eyelashes twitched slightly, allowing Ah Ruan to regain his consciousness, adjusted his breathing, and closed his eyes again.

The devilish energy that floated in greedily licked his side face, gradually intertwined into an inescapable net, and penetrated into Fuzhi's sea of ​​consciousness.With the help of the divine power in Ah Ruan's body, he read the dream that Yin Lingxi had made up.

This time he was still in the magic palace, but there were a lot of upgrades, and all kinds of strange gadgets made him pause slightly.

The Lust guy is a really quick learner in some ways.

Fuzhi pondered for a moment, tapped the void with his fingertips a few times, divine power passed through, and remade a dream.

"Master, are you sure to replace it with this?"

"Mm," Fuzhi twitched the corner of his mouth.

-

"He's so dirty..."

"Hey, let me say, why don't you make a sound, what's the point of me beating you?"

"Bah! What! It's just this bastard, and he wants to steal something from me! I didn't eat your mother's meat, but I gave you face, you know, boy?!"

"..."

A dozen or so people gathered here, and curled up in a dark corner was a thin seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy. He lowered his head and couldn't see his face clearly. His exposed skin was covered with scars and dusty. He was protecting himself. He let his fists and footprints fall on his body without saying a word.

When Yin Lingxi woke up, he happened to be kicked by the man with magic horns and fell to the ground, hitting his back against the wall. The numb pain brought him back to his senses quickly.

His eyes turned cold, and when he was about to mobilize the devil energy in his body, he was suddenly startled.

... The meridians are empty, without even a trace of magic energy.

He subconsciously looked down at his palm.

Dirty and thin.

Everything around is strange and familiar.

Suddenly, Yin Lingxi was grabbed by the collar and pulled up. The man with the magic horn strangled him fiercely, "Hey, bastard, why are you so dazed? Didn't I hear you?!"

Yin Lingxi didn't look at him, he focused all his attention on his hand, this bony hand curled up and down, its insignificant strength was like a humble ant.

He looked into the tyrannical pupils of the man with the magic horn, and saw his own reflection inside.

Gloomy and weak, a shadow like a beggar.

This is him 300 years ago.

He didn't have the talent to awaken the demons, and he was bullied by others.

... This is not a dream he wove.

There is a problem with the dream mirror.

"Brother, why didn't this kid respond? Are you stupid?"

The man with the magic horn pushed Yin Lingxi's head in displeasure, and sneered, "Whatever, hey, you told me yesterday that there is a gap leading to ghosts in the south?"

The Demon Race next to him immediately smiled, "Yes, big brother, hehe... Brothers have also seen Yangui inside..."

The man with the magic horn rubbed his chin, and looked at Yin Lingxi as if he was looking at a small thing: "Throw this guy in, if he can come out alive, I will go to the ghosts and wander around!"

Yin Lingxi failed to re-communicate with Mengjing, and when he came back to his senses, he heard this sentence, and his body froze.

300 years ago, he was thrown into the gap between ghosts and demons in this way. He lived like a dog in ghosts for ten years, fighting carrion with ghosts.

... The dark memories that have been dusty for a long time come surging.

In the same dream mirror, once the dream starts, it cannot be interrupted, and it will continue faithfully to the end. If it commits suicide, it will return to the original starting point of the dream and start again.

how so.

How could there be such a mistake in Tongmengjing.

he……

Do you want to experience those ten years in ghosts again in your dream?

Yin Lingxi's eyes were pitch black and without a trace of light, he suddenly clasped the thick wrist of the man with the magic horn, and said in a hoarse voice: "... let go of me."

After he finished speaking, there was a silence around him, and then a burst of sharp ridicule erupted. The man with the magic horn threw him to the ground, and the others surrounded him and beat him violently.

"You? My Emperor? Take a pee and take care of yourself! Who knows if your mother who is a prostitute of the human race is pregnant with the seed of the Demon Emperor?"

"My emperor? Hahaha..."

Yin Lingxi shrank to the ground, vomiting blood from the corner of his mouth, and had new injuries on his body. He seemed to be caught in some kind of self-protection mechanism, closing his eyes and not saying a word.

When these people were tired from fighting, the man with the magic horn picked him up again, and led the people behind him towards the cliff to the south.

There is a ghostly atmosphere below the cliff, and the bleak cold wind penetrates directly into the cracks in the human bones.

Yin Lingxi was choked by someone, and he was suspended on the edge of the cliff. The wind lifted his ragged clothes, and he could vaguely see various intertwined scars.

The man with the magic horn chatted and laughed a few times with the people next to him, waved away Yin Lingxi's hand that was tightly grasping his wrist, and threw him down——

The thin boy fell down quickly.

No.

His eyes were open, empty.

The ghostly energy below condensed into a ghostly hand, which clung to him with claws and claws, dragging him towards the gap.

It's this feeling again.

Falling into the dark quagmire, gradually suffocating.

The laughter on the edge of the cliff was inaudible.

He was left to stink slowly in the mud alone.

In reality 300 years ago, no one came to save him.

The dream after 300 years, also does not have...

His eyes were gradually swallowed up by darkness, and the eerie ghostly aura was about to drag him into the ghosts——

this time.

There was a sudden silence.

The ghostly aura surrounding him stopped.

A sharp silver sword light suddenly struck from the gray sky, the sharp sword light pierced through the air, and cut off the ghost aura that he couldn't get rid of with just one move!

Someone came with a sword, the silver robe fluttered, the ink hair was flying, and the eyes as shallow as glass were calm and indifferent.

The owner of these eyes lowered his eyes and looked at the boy who was restrained by the ghostly aura and his eyes were dead.

Then, reach out your hand.

Like a fairy who redeems sinners.

He said, "Come on."

His slender fingers were clean, with thin calluses from years of sword practice between his fingertips.

Top-down stance.

Like the mercy of charity.

Yin Lingxi's eyeballs moved.

After a long time, he slowly stretched out his hand.

The blood-stained and bruised hand of the young man gently put it into the immortal's palm, tightening it tighter and tighter.

Fuzhi was in pain from his grip, and he didn't show it on his face. He pulled Yin Lingxi onto the sword and flew towards the periphery of the demon clan.

The demons on the cliff also reacted and yelled in shock: "Quick! Report up! Someone cultivating immortals has broken in—!!"

300 years ago, the relationship between the demons and the world of cultivating immortals was even worse, almost to the point of being immortal. Once a cultivator was found to have stepped into the territory of the demons, he would face endless pursuit.

Soon, countless masters of the demon clan moved after hearing the blood, and hurriedly chased in the direction where Fuzhi left!

……

Inside the cave in the Mozu forest.

The fire was burning warmly, and Yin Lingxi stared at Fuzhi's figure without blinking.

Fuzhi set up a concealment circle outside, and then walked in.

"...Why save me." The boy curled up to one side and said in a hoarse voice.

His current appearance is clearly his original appearance, and he did not pretend to be Fuzhi's disciple with the shape-changing pill.

He couldn't figure out why this person would save him.

Fuzhi walked to his side, lowered his eyes, stretched out his hand and lifted up his sleeve, and the old and new scars came into view.

Yin Lingxi was startled slightly.

"I don't know, I just felt someone calling me. I opened my eyes again, and I came here." Fuzhi took out some wound medicine and put it aside, "This is the territory of the demons. I don't have enough cultivation. If you want to escape, you must Heal your wounds."

Insufficient cultivation?

Yin Lingxi couldn't help but carefully looked at the person who checked his wound.

The brows and eyes are clean and cold, and the drooping eyelashes look like ink that has melted into the ice and snow. This face is very familiar to him, but upon closer inspection, it seems to be a little different.

…Younger, with a less icy and threatening aura.

Could it be because something went wrong in the same dream mirror, so his master also returned to his dream 300 years ago with him?

If this is the case, 300 years ago, Cangwu Peak's Fuzhi Sword Master was indeed only Jindan.

Yin Lingxi coughed, "...you don't remember me?"

His eyes fell on Fu Zhi's perfectly fitted neckline, and he could vaguely see a section of his fair neck, not long ago, there were his bite marks on it.

The person who checked his wound paused for a moment, and then those cold eyes looked over.

After a while.

"do not know."

"But you don't have demonic energy in you, and you can only die if you get trapped in the demon clan," Fuzhi said calmly, "I don't know why I appeared here to save you, maybe it was the guidance of heaven."

Yin Lingxi was thoughtful.

It seems that although his master was also pulled into the dream mirror by him, his memory did stop at 300 years ago, so it is reasonable not to know him.

Now he can't feel the same dream mirror, and he doesn't know what's wrong, so he can only passively wait for the end of this inexplicable dream.

He doesn't have the slightest cultivation now, and all he can rely on is some forbidden techniques in his mind, and...

"Turn around." Fuzhi said coldly.

Yin Lingxi came back to his senses, turned around obediently, frowned and thought carefully.

Without cultivation, without devil energy, correspondingly, he has no way to awaken the joyous emotion Gu in the dream.

Without the influence of Huanqing Gu, then his master...would he still listen to him?

Yin Lingxi was silent.

If Fuzhi left him and left, he would most likely be thrown into ghosts again.

Yin Lingxi's fingertips felt cold.

Even if it was a dream, he didn't want to experience it again.

How to keep someone in a weak situation and protect him willingly?

Half of the boy's face was hidden in the shadow that the fire couldn't shine through, and he thought of his mother.

Like a dodder flower, a woman who has a man come to protect her when she cries.

The woman who was poked at the back and called a bitch, but was beaten to death for protecting him.

At that time, he was still five or six years old, and he had not been brought back to the Demon Race, and he followed his mother every day, standing in the corner in the romantic flower house, watching his mother please the benefactors.

He knows these things well.

He should have been extremely disgusted.

But for this person, he is very willing to use these weak means to keep him.

"Immortal Venerable..."

The silent young man suddenly spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, he seemed to be very frightened and restless, his burning fingers tightly grasped Fuzhi's wrist.

A dirty palm print was left on Fuzhi's wrist.

The young man was startled, and hurriedly withdrew his hand, "Yes, I'm sorry Xianzun! I didn't mean to dirty you..."

Looking over like a young puppy.

With a bit of carefulness deliberately trying to please.

He struggles in the human world, demons, and ghosts. He can stretch and bend very well, and he is the best at knowing when to take what posture.

Fuzhi was stunned for a moment, and then lowered his eyes, "There is a small pool on the side of the cave, you can wash it."

"it is good."

The young man bent his brows and eyes, which had already begun to be romantic, and his voice softened, seductive for no reason.

He said: "Don't worry, Immortal Venerable, I will clean myself up before coming back."

After that, he endured the pain and got up slowly, and walked sideways into the cave.

After a while, there was a muffled groan of pain from the side of the cave.

Fuzhi frowned and looked inside.

There was a young panting voice from inside, with a hint of seductive trembling, falling on the hearts of people, like a feather scratching lightly, giving rise to a slight itch.

"...Could the Immortal Venerable come in for a while, I seem to have been bitten by a snake."