MTL - The Fairy Just Wants To Lie Down-Chapter 243 no knife

  Chapter 243 The sword is never a knife

  The world of practice, outside the Moon Palace.

  The mountain is eight thousand feet high, the mountain is windy, snowy and cold, and it is so cold that it stands in the sky.

  Hundreds of years have passed since the event of Moyuan. A generation of golden elixir has replaced a new person, and dynasties have changed to change the world. Only Guanghan is far away and untouchable.

  The White Jade Palace is half hidden in the clouds, and its colors are shining brightly, which should be the most in the world. I don't know how many mortals and monks come here to pay their respects every year, but very few people can climb to Guanghan Palace. Basically, only the Nascent Soul Stage can take advantage of the Guanghan Banquet to enter the yearning Moon Palace.

  On the mountain, there is a practice city relying on the Moon Palace. People from all over the world gather here, and there are even mortals who are looking for immortals.

  Although immortals are separated from mortals, and monks will not go to mortals if they have nothing to do, the Shangqing Palace does not have any restrictions on mortals. Ordinary people can enter and leave the practice world at will, as long as they are not afraid of death.

  A teahouse with a well-shaped second floor, a table and 4 benches, most of the people who settle down are passing monks, gods and mortals. The basic cultivation base is not high, and has not yet reached the realm of bigu.

  The shopkeeper sat at the counter, resting his chin with his hands, dozing off with his eyes slightly closed.

  Suddenly a shadow pressed forward, the shopkeeper opened his eyes with a feeling, and looked up to see an old man with white hair who didn't trim the frame.

  He was dressed in tattered, coarse linen clothes, with a thin body, his eyes were covered with a piece of cloth, and he was holding an old broken knife in his arms. His cultivation level could not be seen, like an ordinary blind old man.

  The shopkeeper lifted his spirits and said, "Guest officer, should you brush your teeth or drink tea?"

   "Is there any wine?"

  The old man's voice was hoarse, as if sand was rubbing against his throat.

   "Yes, we have spiritual wine and the best daughter red, what do you want?"

   "I don't have spirit stones, and I don't have that yellow and white thing, just see if you can have a sip of wine with this?"

  A dilapidated and yellowed book was placed on the counter, with four characters written on the cover [Selected Sword Art]

Seeing this scene, the smile on the shopkeeper's face faded a lot, but he didn't give the old man a look, and said: "Guest officer, I'm not a **** shop here, and I don't have the firm vision. If you don't mind, I can give you a pot of daughter red."

   This seems to be a pheasant technique from nowhere, but his way of dealing with people is not to offend others, and a pot of daughter red is nothing to him.

   A visitor is a guest, and you will never offend someone who greets you with a smile.

"good."

  The blind old man nodded very simply, and then found a corner to sit down on his own. After a while, the waiter in the shop brought up a jar of daughter's red, along with a small plate of fennel beans.

  There are not too few people in the teahouse. There are dozens of tables on the two floors, and there are storytellers in the middle to tell stories.

  Mr. is probably middle-aged, and his cultivation base is only qi refining.

  "The immortal suppresses the devil's abyss, covers the sky with one hand, blocks all demons alone, and the one who wishes to escape from the devil's abyss and ascend to heaven will come forward to restore peace to the world!"

   This set of stories has been sung for hundreds of years, and the children on the street can recite it backwards, and they have long since lost their minds. The storyteller's mouth was unlucky, and he couldn't tell the power of a fairy, so naturally no one applauded.

  The blind old man drank a few bowls of wine, and then waved to the storyteller.

   "What is the guest's order?"

   "You can't do this story."

  Mr. Storyteller raised his brows and stared, his life has gone a lot from the sourness.

He cupped his hands and said to the sky: "It is a great merit for the immortal to suppress Moyuan, and we all benefit from it. If the immortal did not take action back then, the world may not know what it would be like. If this story is not good, dare to ask the old man what kind of story is it?" Okay?"

   With such a hat on, I am afraid that even disciples of the sect would not dare to respond.

  The people around also cast their gazes here, but there was little kindness among them. Although the storyteller's story is really not exciting, it cannot be blamed on the story.

  The blind old man seemed to be unaware of the surrounding atmosphere, and still shook his head: "It's too old, too old, and the things of hundreds of years are repeated over and over again, and there is nothing new to say."

  Mr. Storyteller opened his mouth slightly, but he didn't expect the other party to be so bold.

   "Come down and let me talk."

   After saying that, the blind old man came up with a broken knife in his arms. Mr. Storyteller is a poor and timid person, so he subconsciously stepped aside.

   Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the blind old man took a deep breath and opened his voice.

"The beginning of the Devil's Abyss is the most holy and sage realm, known as the opportunity to become an immortal in ancient times. Anyone who enters can become an immortal. However, all who enter are demons, swallowing souls and eating blood. His vile heart is known all over the world. If If you go out of the world, you will feed on the world."

   "In ancient times, there was a heavenly venerable, who won hundreds of millions of dawns and died in martyrdom. The most holy and sage world is not the most holy and sage of the world."

   "There are only immortal Taoists in the world who transform gods, and the gods who transform the magic abyss, the ancient great demon, are unstoppable."

   At this point, the voice stopped, and then the voice suddenly rose and was as thick as a war drum.

"Immortals suppress Moyuan, save the world overnight, shake the thunder and control the world, borrow their spiritual objects from the people of the world, use the heaven and the earth as a furnace, and refine the elixir. When the pill is completed, the demon of Moyuan is born, and the immortal shakes the sky with one hand. Fighting demons with one hand. Ask Immortal Guanghan, grant you the talent to transform into a god, and live three thousand years."

  The voice of the blind old man fell, and no one answered for a long time, no one responded.

  The storyteller was completely overwhelmed.

"how?"

   "The old man is wonderful, he knows such details."

   "Hahaha, after all, the old man has listened to it for hundreds of years." The blind old man let out a hearty laugh, wondering if he had an illusion that his body had become much taller and straighter than when he just came in.

  Suddenly his voice changed: "This story is too old."

   “A good story never ages.”

   "You look old, young people become monks, middle-aged listeners, people have been half buried in the earth and have not seen immortals." The blind old man walked back to his own table, picked up a jar of wine and drank heavily.

   With a bang, the empty wine can fell to the ground and shattered into dozens of pieces.

  "Storyteller, I have a story that you can sing till you die, watch it."

  Mr. Storyteller didn’t know why, before he could ask questions, the blind old man had already walked out of the teahouse with the broken knife in his arms.

   Slashed towards the Moon Palace above the nine heavens, and the misty white clouds dispersed, revealing the most Guanghan Palace in the world.

  The blind old man pulled out the broken knife. The blade was mottled, with many gaps and rust. The last sip of wine in his mouth was sprayed on the knife, and he flicked it lightly to illuminate the world.

   "I was born in Changchun when I was young, I went out of the mountain village with a sword, and today I tried the sword in Guanghan Palace."

   With the smell of alcohol in his mouth, he knelt in front of the Guanghan Palace with his knees bent, holding the knife high in both hands, his head lowered and his voice high.

   "Mo Yidao, with the grace of Changchun, set out to practice. I heard that immortals love the world's supernatural powers. I have a knife and I will ask the immortals to watch it."

  The sound spread thousands of miles around, and countless monks cast their gazes. After many years, some people even jumped out to challenge Xianwei.

   After a long time, an elegant and pleasant voice came out from Guanghan Palace.

   "The immortal retreats, retreat."

  Mo Yidao did not obey, and still knelt outside Guanghan Palace. Ignoring the gazes of the world, ignoring the driving of the Moon Palace, so it is ten springs, summers, autumns and winters.

   "The knife is not bad."

  The calm voice came to his ears, and an ordinary Taoist appeared in front of Mo Yidao at some point, and gently picked up the broken knife he was holding in both hands.

  It contains what he has learned all his life.

  The Taoist watched for a long time, and then with a light wave, the sword lighted thousands of miles, cutting the sky and breaking the earth.

   "Selected Sword Techniques, what skills, supernatural powers, and elixir do you want?"

  Mo Yidao tried his best to suppress the excitement in his heart, and replied in a trembling voice: "I beg the gods to give me a thunderbolt, not for life but for death."

  After a few breaths, the Taoist replied slowly: "Yes."

  The broken knife returned to Mo Yidao's hand, and when he looked up again, the sky was covered with thunderclouds, and the uncertain light and dark thunder light hit his face, reflecting an expression of excitement and fear.

   The sword rises, and the thunder falls.

  The sky and the earth shook, and there was no light for thousands of miles.

  Mo Yidao held a broken knife and screamed up to the sky, thunderbolt added to his body and finally saw the **** of transformation, and he died within a few seconds of entering the Tao.

  The knife is absolutely dead, died in Leiting, at the age of more than 600 years, he had no family or sect, leaving only a broken knife that fell under the moon palace, and became a holy place for sword repair.

  In Guanghan Palace, the Taoist took a sip of tea lightly.

   "No one knife, no knife."

—

  Zhaodi, Jiushoutang.

  Nine firsts, implying one of the nine shorts and nine longs, the first of the nine shorts is the sword.

  The sword is not as popular as the sword in the practice world, but there are no fewer people who use it. Take the middle and lower class monks such as building foundations and practicing Qi as an example. Except for those who are famous in the way of swordsman, most people's weapons are either knives or guns. As long as you haven't left your mortal body, you basically won't use a sword.

  Swords are not suitable for pure hand-to-hand combat. In comparison, knives and guns have great advantages.

   Jiushoutang is a sect that uses knives. It was built on the spiritual veins of a deep mountain and old forest. The place that was originally full of thorns and trees was leveled by large machines, and reinforced concrete buildings rose from the ground. In the center is a huge boiler, in which the spiritual fire is billowing, and every 10 seconds, it will emit heat waves as high as thousands of degrees, like the breath of a giant dragon.

  In order to make the best use of everything, the government of Zhaodi plans to build several thermal power generating units on the periphery to supply this electricity.

Under the spirit fire, there are all kinds of knives hanging, including the horse-chopping knife with a long handle, the ring-handed knife with engraved dragon patterns, the horizontal knife with a single edge and simplicity, and the cold moon knife that bends like a crescent moon. The saber used by Buddhism

when!

  The crisp sound of hammering iron resounded through the towering boiler room, the huge black iron hammer fell, and the alloy floor with a thickness of one meter trembled slightly. An ordinary person stands here and hits the hammer, even if it doesn't hit him, the vibration is enough to hurt the internal organs, just like the shock wave of an explosion.

  The man wielding the black iron hammer is a two-meter-tall man with an iron tower. Kong Wu has powerful muscles, bronze skin, a Chinese character face, and slightly raised eyebrows. From a distance, he looks like a tiger.

  His name is Mo Yidao, the owner of Jiushoutang in Zhaodi, the owner of Jiushoutang Forging Co., Ltd., with a registered capital of 100,000 yuan, and currently the only part-time blacksmith.

  Because the government successfully broke through the difficulties of the Artifact Refining Method and trained a large number of Artifact Refiners in the past year, the price of Spirit Artifacts in Jiushou Hall had to be greatly reduced. The weapons forged by his disciples can only be sold through private channels, and the government does not accept magic weapons such as swords at all.

   It is said that the government is now using a black iron block weighing 50 tons, and 10 people control it together. The Qi training period kills the foundation building period like killing a dog.

  Mo Yidao also admired the black iron block very much. It is useless at the Jindan stage, but it is simply invincible at the level of foundation building and Qi training. Not everyone can stop the pure flying smash, let alone with firearms.

  The government is very good at this kind of collective battle.

  So Mo Yidao had to work overtime to forge weapons to maintain the food and clothing of the entire sect. Although the middle and low-end instruments were impacted by industrial production, it had no effect on the instruments of the Foundation Establishment Stage, and the Golden Core Stage was even rated as a strategic weapon.

  He can play 2 Foundation Establishment Knives a day, and processing 5 more is not a problem. A knife can be sold for 3 million spirit stones, and a better-looking one can be sold for tens of millions, or even 100 million. But it's a pity that those who took out 100 million were from aristocratic families, and they couldn't come up with 100 million worth of spirit stones.

when!

  The last hammer fell, and the ring knife on the forging platform flashed a flash of fire, full of spirituality and shining brightly.

  Mo Yidao put down the heavy hammer, picked up the blade to look at it carefully, and breathed through the blade in one breath, accompanied by a slight buzzing, the invisible blade air flew out, leaving a trace on the alloy floor. Knife marks like this are everywhere, densely spread all over the boiler room.

  He threw it away, and the newly forged sword was hung on the iron chain above, nourished by the spiritual energy.

  Dharma utensils are expensive, and they are expensive in aura and materials.

"come in."

Immediately afterwards, a strong man who also looked very burly walked in. He looked a little flustered, and walked a little faster, saying: "Master is not well, Fairy Taiyin is back. Letters from other sects say that I am afraid that I am going to the township level. Integrate the Zongmen of Zhaodi."

   "Fairy Taiyin is back? She is willing to come back." Mo Yidao was surprised. He thought that the other party would never come back after such a visit, even though the residence of the Moon Palace is in Zhao.

   It might not be surprising that Yuegong gave up on the Zhao land they had been running for so many years and moved directly to the Zhou land that day.

   "That's right, the government received news from Qin Di this morning, saying that Taiyin Fairy is going to apply to become a township class." The disciple said, this is undoubtedly a big news for all monks.

  Theoretically, the township level is the immediate boss of all monks, and no one likes to find a father for themselves. Whether it is a local monk or a reincarnated person, most people don't want Zhao Di to have a state-level status.

  In his opinion, Fairy Taiyin is robbing him of his position as master. Before that, in the entire Zhao land, the one who was most likely to become a national town was Juedao Mo Yidao. If he hadn't recovered late, he would definitely have a place as a master.

  Originally, Zhao Di and Mo Yidao had started to contact each other, and it was expected to be formally appointed after about half a year of negotiation, but a Taiyin Fairy suddenly appeared. The background of the pinnacle of deity transformation, the direct line of the immortal, the most beautiful woman in the world, etc., instantly made the government fall to the other side.

  The most terrible thing is that his master was beaten to death by a fairy in his previous life.

   "News from Qin?"

  Mo Yidao grasped the key information. He thought it was just a rumor, but now it seems that there is a closed-door meeting at the national level.

  He waved his hand and said: "Go back to practice, you don't have to worry about this matter, and don't participate in it."

   "Master, let's run, the whole world is full of practice, we."

   "I said go back to practice."

  “.”

   A few seconds later, the disciple flew out of the boiler room and slammed heavily on the steps. If it is an ordinary person, this blow may be dead, but it is not painful or itchy for a body-refining foundation cultivator.

  After kicking the disciple out, Mo Yidao said to the empty boiler room: "Come out, talk about things if you have something to do, and leave if you have nothing to do. Outsiders are not welcome here."

  The next void was slightly distorted, and a man with a pointed face and narrow eyes came out. He was cultivated as a golden core, and his aura was neither righteous nor evil.

  Golden elixir is not difficult for the reincarnated, what is difficult is the completion of the golden elixir. Many golden elixirs were brought up by force, and they could not meet the standards of their previous lives.

   "Friend Mo, Xiaodao."

   "It's unnecessary to say hello." Mo Yidao interrupted, "I'm not interested in mediocrity."

  The words show no emotion at all, making the visitors feel bad, but they dare not attack due to the strength of the other party. Mo Yidao once beheaded a Golden Core stage when he established the foundation, but now the strength of entering and exiting the Golden Core is probably even more terrifying.

  The strong point crushes the dead, and the weak have no right to speak. This has never changed among the monks because of the changes in the world.

  The sharp-faced monk said: "The Taiyin Fairy is back, sent back by the Sword Immortal, and the Zhenguo Rank was recommended by General Qin Fei. You can't compete with her in the direct line of living immortals."

   "Zhou, Qin, and Qi have all completed the full control of the spiritual veins. Regardless of the name or the actual control, they have all fallen into the hands of the living immortals. Zhao's land is the last private land for us, we must fight for it."

  Mo Yidao opened his tiger eyes slightly, his tower-like body leaned forward slightly, and the man tensed subconsciously.

   "You want to compete with the immortal?"

"Cultivation is expensive, and the spirit veins are originally from the sky, and never belong to anyone. The living immortals domineeringly and tyrannically steal the world's spiritual energy to mortals, and one day they will anger everyone. You are not alone, fellow Taoist. There is not only one strong man in the world, there will always be a strong man who is equal to or even stronger than him in the future."

   "Now he is nothing more than a tiger in the mountains, and a monkey is called the king. And I came here today by order, and I want you to disturb the Taiyin Fairy from going to the town level, at least to dampen her arrogance."

  The pointed-faced monk didn't give a positive answer, but Mo Yidao took it as his admission.

  A cold light flashed, and a head and spirit were cut off by the light of the sword.

  Mo Yidao didn't turn his eyes to look at the fallen corpse, but looked downcastly at the blade, which was already covered with dense cracks.

  He sighed sincerely: "It's not as good as my broken knife."

  (end of this chapter)