Zongman: This Holy Lord just wants friendly communication

Oriental people are like skilled craftsmen who have integrated magic and ideals, tempering and polishing them to achieve today's achievements. However, the secrets of the past are still shrouded in mystery.

"Could it be the alchemist who left this world many years ago?"

Jiang Shi Nian had a lot of doubts in his heart, like a tangled mess.

Listening to Heishi's story, I always thought he was a handsome and heroic man, but how come the person who appeared now is such a stunningly beautiful woman?

"Or is it someone else?"

The woman pressed forward step by step, and the energy in her body seemed to materialize like a storm, condensing and swirling, making people's heart palpitate.

"Hmph, the person who came here is not a good person."

Jiang Shi Nian was like a veteran who had been through many battles. He made a prompt decision and buried all his doubts deep in his heart as if they were a treasured secret letter. He snorted coldly from his nose, like a horn declaring war.

Since it is difficult to communicate with words and we cannot get the reason from the questions, we should break the situation with force and use our strength to make him speak.

"Beat him first!"

This place seems to be a mysterious secret realm isolated from the world. The ancient mountains are like a natural barrier, blocking all the energy, like a perfect cloak to conceal one's whereabouts.

This allows him to display his strength without fear of being spied on by righteousness, without having to worry about giving the protagonists "extra food" and causing trouble for himself.

"boom!"

It was as if a volcano that had been silent for thousands of years suddenly erupted. A powerful and majestic wave of terror, as deep and unfathomable as the vast ocean, surged out from Jiang Shi Nian's body, like a raging torrent sweeping in all directions.

Wherever he went, it was as if the end of the world had come, the mountains shook and the earth trembled, showing his power as a king.

After experiencing nirvana and rebirth from the fire, Jiang Shi Nian is like a phoenix emerging from its cocoon. His strength soars and the endless flames in his body are like a lit powder barrel, burning till its end.

The black color that was hidden deep in the five-colored light in the past now seems like a king who has ascended the throne, with domineering aura dominating and shining brightly and dazzlingly.

The golden flame was like a giant golden dragon, with its fangs bared and claws brandishing, roaring out from Jiang Shi Nian's body, as if triggering an energy storm, stirring up a violent gale. Wherever it passed, the mist was torn into pieces like fragile paper and dissipated into nothingness.

The strong wind was like a mad beast, roaring violently. The woman's skirt was like a frightened flag, fluttering in the wind, and her black hair was like a nimble black snake, flying wildly and wantonly.

The woman's footsteps seemed to be nailed. She paused for a moment, and then she moved forward against the strong wind like a fearless warrior, as if she was fighting against fate and advancing towards the center of the storm.

"Well done!"

Jiang Shi Nian was like a heroic god of war, shouting loudly, his voice like thunder, his whole body shining like the blazing sun in the sky, dazzling and blazing, like an endless ocean, surging and raging, the degree of terror was far beyond imagination.

The golden light was like a golden sun, so hot that it seemed to turn everything in the world into ashes and burn away all illusions.

The flames seemed like a burning universe, vast and boundless; the strange sights seemed like a dream scroll, slowly unfolding; the stars seemed like ripe fruits, falling down.

The red sun slowly sinks like a tired traveler.

It is so magnificent, as if Pangu created the world and rebuilt the universe, about to burn the chaotic world into nothingness. It is shocking, awe-inspiring and heart-stirring.

"boom!"

"Dad!"

In that antique shop filled with the fragrance of time, it seems like an ancient secret land has come to life.

The dim light shines through the carved window lattices, falling on the dazzling array of antiques and rare treasures, casting a mysterious and long shadow on each object.

Jackie Chan's face is flushed red at this moment, just like a ripe tomato, with veins bulging on his forehead. He looks like a strong man stuck in a tough battle, trying his best to fight the immortal god's armor tightly attached to his body.

The armor seemed like an ancient giant beast with independent consciousness, clinging stubbornly to his limbs. The metal armor plates rubbed and collided with each other, making a "cracking" sound.

It's like a giant beast grinding its teeth, venting its stubbornness that refuses to be defeated.

Jackie Chan pulled hard, muttering, "Have you found the magic spell? Now the Holy Lord is like an invisible and elusive evil wind, and he will disappear in the blink of an eye. What if he takes advantage of the fact that no one is around and goes out to stir up trouble, causing a huge chaos that is out of control in this vast world? How can we end it? The consequences are chilling just thinking about it."

Chapter 123 Dad, have you found the spell?

After a difficult "struggle", the armor was reluctantly removed under his persistent "attack", just like removing a heavy shackle that restricted his freedom.

Jackie Chan let out a long sigh, and the breath he exhaled was like a white mist of relief, drifting away slowly in the air.

He picked up the armor with both hands piously and carefully, as if he was holding a rare treasure, and gently placed it back into the ancient and heavy box that seemed to carry a thousand years of history.

Every movement he made was filled with awe, as if he was afraid of disturbing the ancient heroic spirit sleeping in it. After everything was properly put away, he turned around and looked at his father, who was bent over a table piled with ancient books, busy like a diligent spider weaving a web.

"Alas! If the Holy Lord does evil, the satellite hanging high in the sky will be like a pair of eyes that can see his every move clearly! Why is your head like that hard and stubborn block? I don't know who you took it from!"

Dad had been immersed in the mysterious and obscure world of the magic book, which seemed to be woven by runes from another world. Hearing this sudden question, he suddenly raised his head from the book and his eyes widened.

Those eyes were like two balls of burning anger, roaring at the top of their voice. The sound was high-pitched and passionate, with a bit of anger of being disappointed in someone. It echoed in the limited space of the store, and the dust around it was so scared that it seemed like frightened elves, flying around in the interweaving of light and shadow.

"Ah! It seems so."

Jackie Chan slapped his forehead, and a silly smile instantly appeared on his face, just like a ray of warm sunshine that dispelled the embarrassment just now. He looked like an ignorant child who suddenly got the idea.

"Did you find the spell, Dad?"

He asked again, like a persistent traveler who would not turn back until he hit a wall, his eyes full of expectation, as if he was eagerly hoping that his father could conjure a life-saving magic spell from the pile of old papers.

The old man was so angry that he blew his beard and glared at Jackie Chan. His beard looked like dry grass blown by the strong wind. He glared at Jackie Chan fiercely, as if scolding him for "bringing up irrelevant issues" and didn't want to waste any more words on him.

He immersed himself in the sea of ​​books piled up like a mountain, his hands like a pair of nimble butterfly wings, quickly flipping through the yellowed and wrinkled books that exuded a mysterious magical aura.

Every time a page is turned, it seems as if an ancient and mysterious piece of music is played. The rustling sound seems to be telling the secret past that has been covered by the dust of time and is little known to the public.

At this time, Xiaoyu, who had been standing aside for a long time like a quiet porcelain doll, couldn't bear to watch the scene in front of her.

She took small steps, stretched out her hand and tugged at Jackie Chan's trouser leg, and said crisply: "Uncle Long, if Dad had found the magic spell, he wouldn't be here like a top, flipping through the book to look for it."

Her voice was clear and pleasant, like a spring leaping in the mountains, breaking the slightly dull deadlock in the store.

Jackie Chan scratched his head, his movements like a simple gorilla scratching itself, and nodded his head like pounding garlic, saying, "That makes sense."

At this moment, without even looking up, the old man shouted like a military strategist who was planning and winning battles thousands of miles away: "Xiaoyu, go get the book with nine hexagrams printed on it from the fifth shelf of the fourth bookshelf. That book is like a beauty hidden in a secluded place, waiting for your discerning eyes to discover it, so don't look for the wrong book."

"Okay daddy!"

Xiaoyu's eyes lit up, as if the bright stars in the night sky were instantly lit up, and she responded with full of energy.

She jumped out of the study like a lively deer running through the mountains and woods. The braids behind her head swayed happily with her movements, just like willow branches swaying in the wind, full of youthful vigor and vitality.

"Jackie Chan, what are you still doing here? Go make Dad a cup of tea! Dad is so busy that he doesn't even have time to rest. His throat is almost smoking!"

Dad once again gave orders with great energy, and his voice sounded like the ringing of a huge bell, echoing in the store for a long time.

Jackie Chan didn't dare to delay for even a second. He responded hastily, as if he was a soldier hearing an urgent military order, and ran out at the fastest speed.

He was worried in his heart, as his mind flashed with the image of his father getting angry and hitting him on the head out of the blue. The scene made his scalp tingle just thinking about it.

"Dad, this book is for you."

Not long after, Xiaoyu came back in a hurry, like a whirlwind full of vitality and hope.

She solemnly held the book in both hands and handed it to her father. Her little face was red from running, like the most beautiful peach blossom blooming in spring, full of seriousness and piety, as if she was offering the most precious treasure to the world.

"Thank you, Xiaoyu, you are much smarter than your uncle Long."

Dad took the book and a relieved smile appeared on his face. That smile was like the warm sunshine in spring, dispelling the gloom just now.

The fine lines at the corners of his eyes reveal his approval and love for Xiaoyu, like the gentle marks engraved by time.

"Haha, no way, Uncle Long is also very powerful!"

Xiaoyu scratched her head and smiled naively, somewhat embarrassedly. That smile was like the first breeze of spring, simple and pure.

Just at this moment, there was a sudden cry from outside. The sound was like the cry of a night owl, breaking the silence in the store.

Then, there was the piercing sound of glass and porcelain shattering, just like the cracking of ice in winter, or like thunder exploding in the ears, as if something heavy had fallen, shocking everyone in the store.

"What's wrong, Uncle Long?!"

Xiaoyu's heart tightened, her expression suddenly changed, and she was about to rush out, like a little animal protecting its calf, eager to find out what was going on.

"Don't look at it anymore. It must be your uncle Long who was careless and dropped the teacup again."

The old man glanced towards the door and spoke slowly and firmly, like a wise man who saw through everything.

It was obvious that he was already accustomed to Jackie Chan's "mistakes". His expression was as if he was stating an established and unchangeable fact.

Sure enough, a moment later, Jackie Chan shouted at the top of his voice: "It's okay - I accidentally broke the teacup!"

There was a hint of embarrassment and regret in his voice, as if a child who had made a mistake was trying to cover up his mistake but had no choice but to confess.

The tone of voice, floating in the air, added a touch of humor.

"Uh……"

Xiaoyu's mouth twitched, her face full of helplessness, she shrugged and stood still, like a spectator who was already accustomed to the farce before her.

I can only express my tolerance and understanding of Uncle Long’s “old habit” through such helpless actions.

After a while, Jackie Chan walked in carefully with a cup of steaming hot tea, as if he was holding a fragile and rare pearl.

Every step was taken very carefully, for fear of making any more mistakes.

Chapter 124 Xuanwu: You want me to deal with my master?

He placed the cup lightly on the empty space next to his father, not daring to breathe, as if he was performing a solemn sacrificial ceremony. His cautious look made people laugh.

"This is it!"

The old man's brows were originally furrowed, like a mountain shrouded in clouds of sorrow, but at this moment his old voice suddenly rose, revealing his unconcealable joy.

The voice was like the dawn of light that penetrated the haze. The skinny finger poked at a place in the book, and the excitement was beyond words. "I was chatting with Xuanwu before, and it told me a secret..."

Dad's thoughts drifted back to the past, when he was on a beach filled with golden sunshine and looked like a dreamland. The waves were like a group of happily playing children, gently lapping at the beach and playing a soothing and beautiful melody.

The surge of every wave seems to be telling the tenderness and sweetness of the sea.

Dad was carrying a bag of magic ore, which sparkled with strange light in the sunlight, like a pocket full of stars.

He strode towards the huge but childish Xuanwu, raised his hand and threw a piece of ore, asking for directions: "Xuanwu, do you know why you were born?"

Xuanwu raised his head, vaguely recalling his master's instructions.

If you don’t know how to answer, just repeat what the other person said.

It blinked its eyes, like an innocent child trying to remember its lessons, and shouted twice: "Because I was born, so I was born."

The voice was childish and crisp, echoing slowly on the empty beach, with a bit of ignorant and naivety.

"Ok?"