The True Lord has arrived

Chapter 215 Dragon Buddha Locks Weapons

Take it off?
Lord Zhou paused in his movements.

The petite Miss Li lightly twirled the pen between her fingers, her brows now free of any trace of embarrassment, displaying composure and openness. She looked Zhou Yan over, a gentle smile playing at the corners of her eyes, and said:

"Zhou Yan, we've known each other for a long time. Besides, it's just drawing. Aren't you shy?"

She paused, then deliberately took half a step forward, teasingly asking, "Could it be that you, Zhou Yan, feel shy towards me, or perhaps... romantic feelings?"

Li Zhiwei pointed out that there was no need to be shy, and Zhou Yan breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had finally shed some invisible restraint. He looked up at Li Zhiwei's poised and generous demeanor and said, "Okay."

"It's me who's being too rigid."

He reached out, his fingertips gripping the belt around his waist, and with a swift and decisive motion, he removed his clothes.

Miss Li smiled calmly and chatted with the Old Mother of Lishan over there. The old lady said that painting here, which contains divine meaning, requires concentration, so she went out herself and closed the door.

Li Zhiwei gripped the pen, then shifted her gaze back to see that Zhou Yan had already removed his upper garment, revealing a strong and muscular physique. Zhou Yan's physique was average, but compared to non-human beings, he was already quite formidable among the human Xuan officials.

His body was covered in scars, marks left from his past demon-slaying exploits, which ironically added to his youthful vigor.

Li Zhiwei let out a soft breath and pointed ahead: "Sit!"

Zhou Yan sat cross-legged with his back straight.

Miss Li looked at Zhou Yan's back, noting his smooth skin, and after a moment's thought, said, "Turn around and start drawing from the front."

Zhou Yan asked, "Why?"

Li Zhiwei picked up the brush that the Old Mother of Lishan had given her and said, "Painting such a spiritually rich picture is the most mentally taxing. If you paint the back first, and then exhaust your strength to paint the front, you'll look up and see your face..."

She paused, lightly tapped the pen with her fingertips, her ears slightly warm, but she spoke with composure as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world: "I'm afraid I'll be shy and the pen will veer off course."

"There will inevitably be problems with the paintings you create."

Zhou Yan: "…………"

How could you say something like that so seriously?
Zhou Yan turned around and saw the girl reach out and pick up a brush. Li Zhiwei said, "The old lady told me that I should use this drop of golden dragon blood as a basis and your flesh and blood as a foundation to draw the power of this drop of the Lord of War's essence blood on the painting, while locking in the divine will."

“My teacher once drew a picture of the hundred aspects of hell, so I have some experience with these.”

Li Zhiwei stretched out her fingers, her slender, fair fingers pressing against Zhou Yan's chest. Her fingertips were slightly cool, carrying the refreshing scent of ink, cool and itchy, as if a feather had gently tickled his heart. Zhou Yan thought to himself, it's all Li Zhiwei's fault for saying something shy just now, making him notice this as well.

He closed his eyes first, but after a while, he couldn't help but quietly open them to look. He saw Li Zhiwei with her eyes lowered, her eyelashes casting faint shadows under her eyes, her expression so focused that it seemed as if the whole world consisted only of the pen in her hand and the 'canvas' in front of her.

The pen was remarkably steady in her fingers, and as the tip grazed her skin, it carried a gentle, ethereal light that made one feel no discomfort whatsoever.

Zhou Yan wondered if he was having too many distracting thoughts.

Li Zhiwei was clearly trying her best to help her, but she was still fixated on those things. She felt really bad for her, so she calmed down.

Li Zhiwei quietly drew, looking at the strong muscles of the boy in front of her. At first, she was a little nervous and shy. This had nothing to do with anything else, it was just an instinctive reaction to seeing the body of a peer. However, after focusing on drawing, she quickly forgot about the object and herself.

The brilliance of the brush tip gradually resonated with the blood and qi within Zhou Yan's body. Under the suppression of the dragon blood ink, the killing intent of the War Lord's essence blood revealed a restrained and profound weight.

Rather, it's more accurate to say that for Li Zhiwei, there was no basis for developing any other feelings for Zhou Yan. She grew up in the Prince's mansion when she was young, and before she could even experience the first stirrings of love, she suffered a great calamity. Now, at sixteen, she should be at the age when she is just beginning to experience love, but her heart remains unmoved.

She dipped her brush in the special ink and began to paint.

When Yang Taizhen was teaching her some techniques, she jokingly asked her why she was attracted to Zhou Yan. Li Zhiwei thought for a moment and said, "At this age, if you spend too much time with people your own age, you will definitely think about these things in your heart."

"However, one cannot develop feelings of liking for someone who appears close but is actually far away."

"He saved me when I was in the Ghost Market. After that, I watched him slay demons and monsters, face calamities, and even..." Li Zhiwei thought for a moment and didn't finish her sentence. She could sense who the God of Mount Tai really was.

Faced with Yang Taizhen's teasing, Li Zhiwei simply said:
“If he were just a wandering swordsman roaming the streets of Chang’an, I might be tempted; if he were just a Taoist priest who secluded himself in the mountains and occasionally went down to exorcise demons, I would do everything in my power to persuade him to return to secular life. But he was never just that.”

"When facing a deity, a person does not want to like the deity or be with the deity. If the distance is too great, no matter how good the deity is, it is difficult to be moved."

Li Zhiwei picked up her paintbrush, her gaze sweeping over the young Taoist's eyes and brows.

She actually had dreams, dreams about the future.

It was as if she had dreamt that Zhou Yan had transformed into the Lord of Mount Tai.

She dreamt of her possible future, a natural ability possessed by shamans and priests. The more one is associated with a powerful deity, the more spiritually advanced a human will glimpse glimpses of the future.

She saw it for a very long time, inside a temple on the mountain.

With white hair, I keep company with the green lamp. Behind the lamp is a solemn and dignified shrine. The young lord in the statue has clear and bright eyebrows. I wonder if it is sixty years later or a hundred years later. The young lord still looks like a young man, while I have already turned white-haired.

The green lamp illuminates the green mountains, and all is so quiet that only the sound of the lamp flame popping can be heard.

Perhaps when they are old and can no longer walk, sitting there occasionally reminiscing about their youth, they will see a figure passing by in the clouds, still looking the same, and will smile freely. This is the ending for Li Zhiwei and the Lord of Mount Tai.

Li Zhiwei felt that this ending was just right.

He picked up his brush and began to paint.

Moreover, she is now all alone in the world. Her father is obsessed with the throne, her elder brother follows him, her mother is missing, and even Consort Cui has passed away. Now, Li Zhiwei only wants to find her mother.

If anyone finds my mother, they are willing to give themselves to her.

Ha, let's just forget about that idea.

She picked up her pen and said, "Turn around."

The prefect had to turn around obediently. Li Zhiwei picked up his brush to draw the part behind. Zhou Yan sensed the murderous intent in Chi You's blood, but the baleful aura failed to erupt. When the two were drawing, they were the only ones there. Zhou Yan said, "There is something I need to tell you."

Li Zhiwei said, "Speak."

Zhou Yan looked ahead, feeling the cool touch of the girl's fingers on his back, and said, "I've found your mother."

!!!

Li Zhiwei paused, pressing a small indentation into the skin of Zhou Yan's back. Her breathing became heavy as she patted Zhou Yan's back, causing his body to tense up instinctively.

Li Zhiwei's voice trembled slightly: "Wh-what..."

Zhou Yan said, "I've been wanting to talk to you about this for a while, but I haven't been able to find you in the past few days. It seems that it's because you were looking at this painting at the old lady's place. When I was investigating the Shu region, I found An Lushan and your mother."

Zhou Yan recounted everything he had seen and heard from Consort Shen. "In short, An Lushan was provoked by my plan, and now he should be focusing his attention on Xiyue. Shen... well, your mother should be alright. I will go to rescue her as soon as possible."

Li Zhiwei listened quietly, so quietly that Zhou Yan felt a little uncomfortable. The girl sighed, still maintaining that quiet demeanor, and said, "Master Zhou, you really are unreliable."

"what?"

Li Zhiwei said, "Aren't you afraid that I'll lose my composure and make a mistake while painting this at this time?"

She picked up her pen, began to draw, paused for a moment, and then, her voice like a leaf falling in the wind, said, "Thank you."

Zhou Yan sat cross-legged there and said, "Hmm."

"I will rescue her."

"This is an agreement between our allies."

"Ah."

Li Zhiwei responded, recalling the distracting thoughts that had just crossed her mind—the idea that she would offer herself to anyone who could rescue her mother. Looking at the young Taoist's back, she suppressed those thoughts.

Forget it.

Forget it.

Outside, the lion cat lying in the corner stared wide-eyed at the house in the courtyard. Through the crack in the door, it saw the young Taoist sitting cross-legged, watching the girl pick up her brush and paint. It saw Zhou Yan's upper body was naked, and the girl's fingers brushed over it.

"Hu! Hu! Hu!"

The white jade lion cat's eyes were wide open, and there were bloodshot veins inside.

"This, painting naked, is too, too erotic!"

"Human race, Zhou Yan, you're playing a very high game!"

"Exciting, so exciting, meow!"

"let me see!"

"Behold my divine eye!"

Snapped!
A hand with distinct knuckles suddenly pressed down on its head. A handsome, translucent young man lifted it up with one hand, his tone lazy yet carrying an undeniable pressure: "At a time like this, you can't afford to look around recklessly, but—"

He glanced at the lion cat's eyes and sneered, "You're already acting like this over such a small matter. Looks like you didn't see much of the world back then."

"Besides, those two things are gone."

"What are you looking at?"

The lion cat stiffened.

When Li Zhiwei was drawing, she tried hard not to let her tears fall. Her mother had been found. Suddenly, she felt that she was no longer so alone in this world. All sorts of emotions surged up, whether it was sadness or joy. In the end, the girl's eyes widened and she let the tears flow quietly.

Sadness and joy surged within her, yet her hand holding the pen remained remarkably steady. The brilliance flowing from the pen tip firmly locked the murderous intent of the War Lord's bloodline within the painting.

Zhou Yan simply let Li Zhiwei vent her long-held sorrow and worry.

Painting such a divinely inspired picture is extremely time-consuming and mentally taxing. Li Zhiwei painted for a full four hours before finally lifting his brush. Zhou Yan's upper body was covered in gold and red, as if a warlord had descended to earth, with powerful killing intent emanating from him.

At the same time, Buddhist teachings and spiritual influences emanated, suppressing this raging hatred.

The interplay of strength and gentleness contains indescribable mysteries, perfectly aligning with the primordial essence of Taoism!
Fuxi created the Eight Trigrams and Yin-Yang, and Nuwa already understood these things.

Zhou Yan sensed the transformation in the painting was complete. He exhaled, clenched his fist, felt the surging flow of blood and energy, and stood up, saying, "Divine intent sealed, now I can cultivate. Thank you..."

He turned around to thank her, and the petite Miss Li smiled and said:

"It's nothing. You helped me find my mother, so it's only natural for me to help you."

"Besides, you need to master the power of the Lord of War in order to fight against the embodiment of the Lord of War's obsession over there."

Li Zhiwei reached out and propped herself up, clenched her small fist, and waved it with feigned bravado:

"With allies working together, nothing is impossible!"

Zhou Yan couldn't help but laugh and reached out to give her a high five. Li Zhi smiled and also reached out to give Zhou Yan a high five. However, she was, after all, a newly promoted eighth-rank Xuan Guan painter, and it took her a full four hours to depict the painting by Nuwa.

She was further shocked by the news that her mother was still alive, and her spirit was already exhausted to the extreme.

I didn't feel anything while sitting, but as soon as I stood up, I felt dizzy and lightheaded. I quickly took half a step forward to steady myself, but suddenly froze, realizing a very serious problem.

My legs are numb.

Oh no!

The petite Miss Li suffered the biggest setback of her life!

She stumbled forward, but because of her small stature, she landed on Zhou Yan. The young Taoist priest reached out to help her up, but his body stiffened for a moment as he felt a warm touch on his chest.

Li Zhiwei's pupils contracted and trembled violently.

And so, the scene in the distant dream of the first shaman of Mount Tai, in that distant future, where under the dim light, the white-haired woman and the young shaman met again, shattered inch by inch.

On the wall, the white jade lion cat's eyes widened, and blood gushed from its nose.

"That's so lewd!"

"They actually ate, they ate..."

boom! ! ! ! !
The handsome young man beside him snapped his fingers, and bolts of lightning crashed down on the head of the white jade lion cat, charring its entire body. The cat lay there, its right leg raised and twitching uncontrollably.

"Why does Manjushri keep such filth?"

Even Fuxi was provoked.

He looked up, and the illusory figure, chin in hand, said:

"It's almost time."

(End of this chapter)