Chapter Five Hundred and Twenty-Fourth Alive with Mr. Big Breasted Woman
It's about a hundred miles south of the Bamboo Grove Courtyard.
On the bank of a fast river, under a tree, a figure suddenly appeared here. At this time, the dark mana wrapped around his body was slowly dissipating.
The figure of an injured man appeared on the ground. The snow-white clothes on his body were soaked with blood and covered with dust and bamboo leaves.
One of his sleeves was empty and he fell on the ground, his breath weak.
A literary sword fell beside him.
It was quiet for a moment.
"Wake up, Zhao Rong!" Gui observed the situation and called out quickly...
Not long after.
Zhao Rong, who was awakened by the sword spirit, turned over and lay on the grass. He freed up his remaining left hand and grabbed a large handful of elixir to treat injuries from the Xumi object in his arms.
Many of them came from the national treasury.
The young Confucian scholar's face was stained with blood, and he was as angry as a gossamer. With his trembling left hand, he poured out bottles of elixirs on the ground.
Then he groped around with his left hand on the ground, grabbed a handful of pills mixed with sand and dust, mixed them with blood, and swallowed them with difficulty as if he were swallowing a jujube...
Sword Spirit anxiously felt the Qi in his body gradually stabilizing, and breathed a sigh of relief.
At first, Zhao Rong felt a suffocation of qi and blood in his chest, his breathing was not smooth, and he was about to suffocate. But soon, as the effects of these valuable elixirs that melted in his mouth evaporated, he finally got over the most difficult moment.
Come on.
"Zhu Yourong still understands you."
Gui suddenly sighed.
At this time, the young Confucian scholar was panting heavily, lying on his back on the grass, opening his eyes with cracked corners, staring blankly at the gradually darkening sky.
He subconsciously wanted to stretch out his right hand, but found that it was gone, so he grinned self-deprecatingly, stretched out his left hand and struggled to grab the Wenjian on the ground on the right side of his body.
Zhao Rong held the Wenjian horizontally in front of his eyes and stared blankly at the place where Zhu Yourong quietly left a 'stroke'.
Zhu Yourong deceived him a little.
But she only wrote two words.
One is "Yong" and the other is "Zheng".
But it's not ten strokes, but eleven.
There is nothing to manipulate in the orthographic character, but she deliberately wrote the character "永" in six strokes.
The word "フ" was about to be folded horizontally and written in two strokes. Even he was deceived, or subconsciously ignored it. At that time, he just thought she was being naughty and didn't write seriously. Now that I think about it...
"Did you guess it then..."
Zhao Rong muttered to himself in a daze, staring at Wenjian, his eyes aching from the sunlight reflected by the sword.
However, this pain was nothing compared to the severe pain that shot through the broken arm at this time.
Zhao Rong's lips turned white, and he felt a severe phantom limb sensation from the broken arm on his right side, as if the hand was still there.
The flesh and blood on the severed arm seemed to be wrapped in hot magma. Every drop of blood was boiled with burning pain, which gathered bit by bit into a boiling sea of suffering, and then came in waves like a tidal wave.
.
He was already numb from the pain.
If it weren't for the pills in his body that were slowly taking effect at this time, and the powerful dragon's body in the Fuyao Realm slowly absorbed spiritual energy and began to slowly repair, Zhao Rong would have probably lost too much blood and fell asleep.
While Zhao Rong was in a daze, Gui carefully observed the surrounding area and couldn't help but said with regret:
"Zhao Rong, looking at this situation, we don't seem to have escaped too far. The river next to us is downstream, so we were transported downstream to the south. Zhao Qian'er, on the contrary, was sent a thousand miles north by you against the current, and we...
…There is only one stroke…There are no accidents, that is, it is only a hundred miles.”
Zhao Rong was still lying on the grass, holding a sword across his arm, staring blankly at the sound of the sword without replying.
He didn't understand something.
After Sword Spirit finished speaking, he paused, and then said in a lost tone:
"It's too close, it's too close. Your energy must still be locked by that old beast. He has a golden elixir cultivation level. Even if he swallows the outer elixir in a weird way, he is still in the golden elixir realm. A hundred miles away is too close. He will be here soon.
I can chase you...and your injuries..."
It fell silent, sighing in loneliness.
Zhao Ronghu, who was in a daze, asked: "Did she guess at that time that I, Zhao Ziyu, would one day... wish to die?"
Sword Spirit was slightly stunned, then said angrily:
"Do you still need to guess? You think you are arbitrary and do not follow what others tell you. What sounds good is that you are independent and responsible, and what is bad sounds like male chauvinism and willfulness. Zhu Yourong leaves you with ten strokes.
, you gave it all to that little girl, and it doesn’t matter whether she wants it or not..."
It nodded and praised:
"Well done. Mr. Zhao is honored. The little girl was so moved that she burst into tears. But apart from these, is there any other meaning? You patted your ass and left, but Zhao Lingfei and Zhao Qian'er
Guangrong is now a widow, and so is a little fox demon. I will feel sad and blame you for the rest of my life..."
Zhao Rong: "......"
Sword Spirit sneered again: "It's all your women who have spoiled you. Zhu Yourong should be more mature and reliable, understand your temperament, and deliberately leave a backup plan. Although it seems to be useless now, it is a dead end, so it is better to save him."
I can’t stand Mr. Zhao who likes to seek death.”
The young Confucian scholar looked at the shiny sword blade, gasped and blinked, forgetting the numb pain for a moment.
He didn't expect the sword spirit's "combat power" to be so strong right now, and he was so angry that he almost blushed and blamed himself.
After the doubts in his mind were cleared up, Zhao Rong closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wiped the blood on his face with the back of the hand holding the sword, and then grinned:
"Have you finished scolding?"
"No!"
Sword Spirit said something without even thinking about it, and continued to sneer:
"Anyway, that old beast is about to be found and buried with Mr. Zhao. I will scold you a few more times to relieve my anger. Later, I will carefully appreciate the old beast's cramp-peeling skills, and how he frowns with Mr. Zhao.
With his heroic demeanor in a blink of an eye, he can barely live with peace of mind. By the way, on Huangquan Road later, don’t sit next to me and get away quickly, or I’ll beat you up. Hum, I don’t want to see you in the next life. Let’s reincarnate separately.
Don’t spread bad luck.”
Sword Spirit's tone was arrogant.
Zhao Rong: "......"
He was speechless for a while, then finally shook his head and did not reply.
Suddenly, Zhao Rong jumped up like a carp, but unfortunately his body was still a little unstable. He staggered forward a few steps and used his sword to support the ground before he completely stabilized his steps.
However, these are all side stories. The young Confucian scholar raised his head indifferently and took a serious look at the sky and the sun.
"Is it still Shen Shi? What happened just now feels like it lasted longer than ten thousand years..."
He covered his broken arm, murmured, and immediately started moving.
Sword Spirit, who was about to lie down, felt something was wrong and said warily:
"Hey, what are you doing?"
Zhao Rong quickly took out the white bandage, used one hand with a pale mouth with a cleft lip, tore the bandage a few times, and then carefully bandaged the broken arm wound.
At this time, he bit a section of the bandage with his teeth, swung his head to the left, tightened the knot, then spat out the bandage from his mouth with a sound, and calmly replied:
"What? Live."
Sword Spirit was startled, "This is not nonsense, you are either alive or dead, I am asking you what you want to do, do this."
Zhao Rong suddenly smiled, revealing his sharp and bloodshot white teeth:
"Live! Go back alive."
He fell silent. At this time, there was something called "light" in the eyes and tone of this young Confucian scholar.
The sword spirit became confused and puzzled. Just now, they had advised him not to die and felt like running for his life, but he insisted on dying and leaving his way of survival to others.
As a result, the current situation was the end of the road, and it was desperate and waiting for death. However, for some reason, he regained his energy and categorically stated that he would live and go back alive...
Zhao Rong lowered his head, quickly picked up the elixirs scattered on the ground, selected useful elixirs from them, and then threw them directly into his mouth without even having time to wipe off the dust, and swallowed them hard.
At this time, the poisonous sword spirit became abnormally quiet, and the young scholar seemed to have noticed something.
He was silent for a while, then lowered his head and put the sword engraved with the destiny black bird pattern on his waist again.
Then a young Confucian scholar covered in blood by the river, alone, facing north, in the direction of Duyou City, said directly:
"I want to go back and see them!"
Ps: Refresh in half an hour. This chapter is not long, so you don’t have to wait too long... just half an hour will do, brothers.