Becoming an immortal from a canal worker

Chapter 181: The Sword is Completed, the Weapon Bag is Hidden

He went to the side courtyard and soaked in the hot spring. The hot water seeped into his skin and flesh, and the soreness and swelling left over from the transformation slowly dissipated.

After soaking in the bath, I changed into clean clothes, returned to the training ground, sat down on the futon, and began to cultivate the Blazing Sun Burning Sea True Scripture.

With the circulation of fetal breathing, all the pores of the body open, and the energy of heaven and earth surges into the body, while the vital energy is rapidly refined through each breath.

After an unknown amount of time, there was a knock on the courtyard gate three times.

The rhythm was neither too heavy nor too light, and it differed from Deacon Lin's regular tapping style, being shorter and more abrupt.

Chen Ping opened his eyes, walked over, and opened the courtyard gate.

Shen Hui stood outside the door.

Behind her, on the ground, lay a long, heavy lacquered wooden box.

The wooden box had a glossy black finish, and the reinforcing iron buckles along the edges were polished to a shine.

The box was enormous, even longer than the tall and slender Shen Hui herself.

She looked at Chen Ping as he opened the door. Her clear gaze lingered on him for a moment, and her handsome eyebrows furrowed slightly.

She seemed to sense that he was different from the last time they met, but she didn't ask any questions. She spoke, her voice as crisp as before.

"Your knife is finished."

She gestured with her chin toward the lacquered wooden box behind her.

"Open the box and check the goods yourself first."

Chen Ping looked at the lacquered wooden box behind her, and a surge of passion welled up in his heart.

Craftsman's tools.

But he did not let his elation become mere outward appearances.

He simply nodded restrainedly and said in a deep voice, "Thank you for your trouble, Miss Shen."

He squatted down, laid the lacquered wooden box flat on the ground, unfastened the iron buckles on both sides, and lifted the lid with both hands.

The box was lined with a thick layer of black velvet.

On the velvet lay a knife. The blade was five feet long, slightly curved, and entirely black. There were no patterns or decorations on the blade surface, only extremely fine forging lines that appeared faintly in the light, like ripples frozen on the surface of water.

The back of the blade is extremely thick, nearly two inches, and it becomes thinner towards the blade edge, reaching a point as thin as a cicada's wing.

The tip of the knife was slightly upturned, carrying a hint of sharpness.

There are several very shallow grooves on the blade, extending from the base to the tip, following the curve of the blade like tributaries of a river.

The handle is two and a half feet long, wrapped in dark brown leather with a rough texture that doesn't slip when gripped.

The iron ring at the end of the handle is larger and thicker than that of the rough blank, and is used for counterweight.

The knife has no superfluous parts; its lines are simple, steady, and cold.

Chen Ping stretched out his palm, his fingertips slowly tracing the dark blade.

He could clearly feel the sharpness in his palm, as if countless extremely fine needles were pricking his fingerprints.

The blade was a few degrees colder than the air.

He moved his hand from the blade to the hilt, closed his fingers, and gripped it with one hand.

Golden lines shone beneath his fair skin. The weight of six hundred pounds rested heavily in his palm, yet under Yu Li's control, it felt like holding a wooden stick.

Chen Ping stood up and waved his hand casually.

hum.

A deep, piercing sound exploded in the training ground, several times more muffled than the sound of Jing Ye, like muffled thunder rolling down from the ground.

The blade sliced ​​through the air, creating an arc. The air was torn open where the blade passed, and the airflow on both sides of the gap collided, producing a soft crackling sound.

The knife seemed to be an extension of his hand.

It fits perfectly and feels incredibly smooth.

The center of gravity, grip distance, blade curvature, and weight of the counterweight ring are all perfectly balanced, perfectly matching his strength, hand shape, and swinging habits.

Chen Ping channeled his inner energy into the blade.

In an instant, the jet-black blade gleamed.

A dazzling golden-red light spread from the base of the blade all the way to the tip.

Within the shallow grooves on the blade, crimson flame patterns flowed, like magma slowly flowing in a ditch. Golden luster danced across the edge, and a sharp edge emanated from the blade, as if even the air itself was being torn apart.

Chen Ping gripped the golden-red horse-slaying saber and swung it more than a dozen times.

Each strike was smoother and more swift than the last.

Shen Hui stood by the courtyard gate, arms crossed, watching as the blade followed its trajectory, her lips twitching slightly.

Chen Ping stopped.

The true meaning of the tide is revealed.

On the golden-red blade, countless tiny black vortexes appeared simultaneously, densely packed, slowly rotating.

The airflow around the blade began to swirl and pull inward, and the lights around the training ground all shifted toward the blade.

The abyss descends.

Shen Hui looked at the black, swirling sword and her gaze darkened.

She stretched out her hand, and several wisps of cyan energy shot out from her fingertips, landing on Chen Ping's blade.

Chen Ping understood. Yuan Tun.

Those wisps of cyan energy fell into the vortex on the blade's surface and vanished without a trace.

Spitting up fluid.

Chen Ping swung his sword.

A two-meter-wide ocean of golden-red qi poured out along with the momentum of the blade. Within the ocean were countless fine blade qi, the golden sharpness and the crimson heat intertwined, surging overwhelmingly toward the Iron Man Stake.

The moment the ocean of qi submerged the iron man's stake.

Clang clang clang clang.

The iron stake, which had been subjected to so much torture, finally gave way.

The body, forged from black iron, was cleaved into more than a dozen pieces from head to toe by countless blades of energy. The broken surfaces were charred black, and metal fragments fell to the ground with a clatter.

The training ground fell silent for a moment.

Chen Ping sheathed his sword and stood up.

The tip of the blade touched the ground, and the golden-red light slowly faded, the blade returning to its original jet-black color. He glanced at the pile of remains of the iron dummy on the ground.

He walked up to the lacquered wooden box and carefully put the horse-slaying sword back into it.

He turned around and bowed deeply to Shen Hui by the door.

"Thank you for your superb craftsmanship, Miss Shen. This knife is excellent."

Shen Hui waved her hand, took a palm-sized cloth bag from her waist, and tossed it to Chen Ping.

"By moistening the weapon pouch with Qi and imprinting it with your blood and energy, you can store your sword inside."

She paused.

Consider it a free gift from our Refining Treasure Hall.

Chen Ping took the bag containing the hidden soldiers and examined it closely.

The bag was no bigger than the palm of my hand. I don't know what kind of leather it was made of, but it was extremely soft and delicate to the touch. However, when I tried to pull it, I found it to be very tough and I couldn't tear it.

He opened the bag and looked inside.

It was pitch black and completely empty, with nothing at all. Chen Ping stuck his finger inside, his fingertip probing downwards, almost immediately touching the bottom of the bag.

It's that deep, about the depth of a finger joint, in an ordinary little pocket.

But this thing came from the Refining Treasure Hall, so it's definitely not an ordinary pocket.

Shen Hui stood aside watching him examine the bag over and over, without urging him or explaining, and waited with her arms crossed.

Following her instructions, Chen Ping slowly poured his inner energy into the bag.

The vital energy seeped into the skin, like water seeping into dry soil, and was absorbed little by little.

Chen Ping continued to pour the energy into the bag until the entire bag was thoroughly moistened with the Qi, and a very faint luster appeared on the leather surface.

Then, he pressed his thumb against the opening of the bag, and a wisp of blood seeped in.

The moment the blood and qi touched the bag, some very fine red lines appeared on the bag, like blood vessels.

As blood and qi continued to flow in, crimson lines spread down from the bag's opening, gradually covering the entire bag, like a sleeping net being awakened.

After a few breaths, the lines darkened.

A strange feeling arose in Chen Ping's heart. He seemed to have some kind of connection with the bag. He couldn't explain it, but he could feel that it was there, like an extra organ in his body.

"Alright, the ownership is complete. The sale of this knife is now completely settled and the goods have been delivered."

Seeing this, Shen Hui did not linger.

He turned around decisively and walked out of the courtyard gate.

She took two steps, then stopped without looking back.

"Don't waste this knife."

After saying that, he stepped out of the courtyard gate, and his footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

Chen Ping took the horse-slaying sword out of the lacquered wooden box, held it with one hand, the tip pointing downwards, and hung it above the mouth of the bag.

As soon as the knife tip approached the bag opening, a sudden suction force surged out of the bag.

The 600-pound horse-slaying sword, seven and a half feet long, was sucked in in the blink of an eye, disappearing along with the weight in his hand.

Chen Ping was startled, opened the bag, and looked inside.

It was empty. But then a thought struck him, and the hilt of his horse-slaying sword slowly emerged from the bag.

He reached out and gripped the hilt of the knife, then pulled it outwards.

The weight of 600 jin was instantly returned to his palm, and the seven-and-a-half-foot blade was completely pulled out of the palm-sized bag.

Chen Ping put the knife into his bag.

Pull it out again.

Regenerated income.

Pull it out again.

I practiced it over and over again, from the initial awkwardness of pulling it out, to later being able to reach in with one hand, grasp the handle, and draw the knife in one go, my movements became more and more skillful.

He certainly didn't want the knife to get stuck in his pocket when he faced a life-or-death crisis.

Having practiced enough, Chen Ping's curiosity was piqued again.

He picked up a fist-sized piece of gravel from the ground and threw it into the bag.

There was no suction. The stone just fell straight in, lying quietly at the bottom of the bag, taking up most of the bag's space and making it bulge.

Chen Ping emptied the stones out and then threw in some other odds and ends. Wooden blocks, iron sheets, strips of cloth—they were all the same; once thrown in, they remained the same size, without any change.

Chen Ping looked at the bag, thought for a moment, and then his gaze fell on the lacquered wooden box beside the bed.

Nightfall is also a weapon.

He went into the inner room, took out the Nightmare Blade, and hung it with the tip pointing downwards at the mouth of the bag.

Suction is generated.

The startled night disappeared into the bag. The bag returned to its light and airy state.

With a thought, Chen Ping pulled out the hilt of Jing Ye's knife from the bag, and found it intact.

He then held the saber upside down, aimed it at the bag opening, and tried to put it in.

There's no suction anymore.

The knife tip was pressed against the opening of the bag, which was just an ordinary cloth bag, and there was no reaction at all.

Chen Ping rubbed his chin, took out the Jingye sword, and then put the horse-slaying sword back in. The suction force reappeared, and the horse-slaying sword disappeared into the bag.

He tried putting Jingye in again, but there was no response.

Chen Ping understood.

The weapon storage bag can only hold weapons, and only one weapon can be stored at a time.

He carefully put away the horse-slaying sword, placed Jingye back into the lacquered wooden box, closed the lid, and placed it beside the bed in the inner room.

This sword won't be thrown away, but the one that will be used in battle later is that unnamed horse-slaying sword.

Chen Ping tucked the hidden weapon pouch close to his waist, walked to the center of the training ground, sat down on the prayer mat, and closed his eyes.

With the circulation of fetal breathing, all the pores of the body open, and the energy of heaven and earth surges into the body, while the vital energy is rapidly refined through each breath.

The golden skin pressed heavily beneath the skin, like an invisible suit of armor.

The hidden weapon pouch at his waist hung lightly, containing six hundred pounds of craftsmanship tools, which could be drawn out at any time.

Chen Ping exhaled a breath of stale air.

Confidence, more than ever before