The Heart of a Smith - Chapter 22 - Training Camp I

This is a story of the flesh pushing everything.

In the Great Ye Dynasty, darkness descends, full of evil spirits and ghosts, killing invisible.

In the face of demons and evils, ordinary people can only shiver, curl up in the corner, and wait for their lives to come to an end.

Jiang Dao came through, carrying a martial arts modification system, and any martial arts can be modified infinitely as long as he glances at it.

The mad magic stick method, the eagle claw iron cloth shirt, the poisonous sand palm, the violent ape magic… are all revised to the realm of a thousand years later.

Facing the evil spirits, Jiang Dao had a burly body, muscles all over his body, and his eyes were like electricity.

“Evil spirits? Who said martial arts can’t kill evil spirits?”

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Yuan Fangguo, who was reborn and returned to his college days, had nothing.

Fortunately, he stood on the cusp of reform and opening up. Facing the waves of the South China Sea, Yuan Fangguo and his brothers and sisters opened their arms and greeted the wind and waves.

Challenge… He secretly vowed to set a goal. My small goal in life is not to make 100 million, but to let the people I want to help earn 100 million easily.

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The boundless universe was filled with all sorts of wonders.

I, Chen *Ping’an, only have one sword, to move mountains, turn the seas upside down, suppress demons, deal with gods, pluck stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and open the heavenly abode!

My name is Chen Ping’an, Ping’an* of Peace, and I am a swordsman.

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of the East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

An impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

Notes:

* Ping’an means peace

** The four directions here are just the four sides of the map of China and the earth. As for the World of Righteousness, it was only one of the four “World”.

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He was a man who has been silenced, her lover from a thousand years ago. A thousand years of entanglement, willing to give everything, just to exchange for that one beautiful woman’s smile.

“Who are you?’

” I’m your husband.”

“You think I’m three years old? My husband looks better than you.”

“I’m your husband 1,000 years ago.”

The woman, petrified, carefully asked, “How old are you this year?”

“2,220 years old.”

“Get the hell out! Bastard!! 2,220 years old!! Why don’t you say your dad was 12,000 years old?”

“My father is in fact this age, you still remember.”

“…”

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