Chapter 439: Walking with fellows from the Eastern Region
Here, he saw an extremely strange sword mark.
The man squinted his eyes slightly and frowned slightly.
"Wang Jia?"
Fangzhe's fingertips touched this circular arc. Before he could explore the sword meaning, he disappeared on the eaves of the nine-story black tower.
…
When I opened my eyes again, I saw a vast expanse of green grass.
The spring breeze was rippling, gently brushing against my ears. The green grass on the ground danced with the wind, and the flowers looked shy, reserved and unwilling to be overwhelmed by them.
The aroma of fresh green grass hits your nose.
Fang Zhe looked at this scene in silence, looking into the distance for a long time, his brows slightly wrinkled and the tips of his ears twitching slightly.
"There is no sound of running water..."
"We can't raise deer here."
"..."
Suddenly there was a voice, and the smell of blood filled the nose, which was particularly inconsistent with the scenery.
"What are you talking about? I was beaten stupid by the old monk."
Wang Jia hugged the white sword with both hands and walked steadily with his black clothes rustling.
As usual, he stretched out his injured hand and spread his palm, revealing a bloody wound with slightly exposed bones.
Fang Zhe looked at him in confusion and said calmly: "Why are you so..."
Why are you such a bad guy?
Wang Jia looked at him fiercely, "Give me some elixirs. There is no spiritual energy in this black tower. It is not easy to recover if you are injured. Use up the spiritual energy on your body. I have almost consumed the elixirs in the battle just now."
.”
Fang Zhe didn't say much, just took out three bottles from his sleeve and handed them over.
Wang Jia planned to take it directly with his injured hand, but the red monk opposite him refused to let go, and the two were in a stalemate for several breaths.
Wang Jia originally disliked this person because of his close relationship with his family. Now he couldn't bear it anymore and asked coldly:
"What do you mean?"
"..." Fang Zhe met her angry eyes and felt baffled, so he explained:
"Come get the other one."
This one is injured.
Wang Jia sighed, his throat moved, and he obediently used his good hand to take the pill. Without saying anything, he took one pill first.
The hideous wound on his hand healed instantly.
"Susu's flesh and blood elixir is really well made." Wang Jia commented quite proudly. The next moment he seemed to realize something and stared at Fang Zhe with his eyes wide open.
"How come you have Su Su's Blood and Flesh Pill??? She gave it to you?!!"
Fang Zhe felt that he was even more confused now, and simply shook his sleeves. Then a pile of glass bottles and small wooden boxes fell from between his sleeves.
They are piled up like hills.
The monk in red said calmly: "With so much, I can't steal it."
"..."
Wang Jia himself also had a lot of pills given by Su Su, but he felt awkward!
He used to dress up as Dong Yiyi! Su Su Zaizai always had a little senior sister behind him to deliver pills, and the two of them could sleep in the same bed.
Why do you have so many now??!
Without saying a word, the sword cultivator in black swung his sleeves, took away most of the pills on the ground, and walked forward without looking back.
"This is the ninth floor of the Black Tower, but it's strange. After I came in, I didn't find any other living things here except wood and stone."
"If we want to find Susu, we need to go all the way down. We don't know which floor we will meet Susu on."
Wang Jia held the sword in his hand and stepped on a certain stone with his feet from time to time to see if there was any formation.
Fang Zhe stayed behind and didn't move for a long time. He sighed deeply, waved his long sleeves and put away the remaining elixir.
He slowly walked to Wang Jia and stared at him closely.
Wang Jia sensed something and turned around to look at him. He met a pair of deep, dark eyes filled with resentment.
"..."
The black-clothed sword cultivator paused in his steps, clenched the hilt of the Zhenxuan sword with his palm, and prepared to strike.
Fang Zhe noticed his murderous intent but turned around silently, saying calmly: "You are not cultivated enough."
Your cultivation level is too low and you can't fight me.
This time it was Wang Jia's turn to let out a long sigh.
"Forget it, there's no point in arguing with you now. Let's go, find the entrance quickly, it's important to see Su Su."
"Um."
The two of them now walked side by side, without any sense of tit-for-tat, and their walking speed was a bit faster.
The wind blew from afar, directly facing the two of them, soft and warm.
The two of them walked in the direction of the wind in tacit agreement.
"Fang Zhe." The black-clothed swordsman kept walking and suddenly asked.
"Have you ever felt that your past memories seem different?"
He has always felt that his Wu Jian sword skills have improved recently, and the sword that slashed the black tower before was also an epiphany.
Wang Jia even recalled from time to time...the carefree life he had in Wujian Cult when he was a teenager???
But at that time, I knew that I was either lying on the wall of another sect or hiding in a nearby tree every day. I was also unlucky. When the weather was unpredictable, my clothes were soaked by the rain, but I still guarded the eaves, just for the sake of it.
Watch the people below practice sword practice.
I am clearly... not familiar with Fang Zhe.
"Did you ever go back and complain to you because your junior brother lost a fight with me? So in order to vent his anger, you greased the roof where I often lay down?"
"..."
Fang Zhe refused to comment, he had indeed done this.
"I thought it was because my consciousness had just been cured, so my memory was somewhat confused."
The red-clothed monk squinted his eyes slightly, with a mixture of light and dark in his eyes, and a picture different from the green scenery at present appeared in front of his eyes.
"Have I ever taught you the Thirty-Six Tiangang Styles?"
Wang Jia shook his head very definitely, "No, this sword technique is considered to be the top among the Wujian sword techniques in your sect. I only came to understand it after observing it myself for twenty years."
As soon as these words came out, both of them realized something at the same time and couldn't help but look serious.
"Someone disturbed our memory?" Wang Jia said.
"It has changed both of you and me at the same time."
"..."
This is no small matter.
There are only a handful of ways in the world that can change a monk's memory. It is either to directly enter the opponent's sea of consciousness and forcibly modify a certain memory. Or to use illusions and dreams to allow the monk to create an extra memory out of thin air. Furthermore, it is to use talismans.
Use the art of countermeasures.
but……
They are two people, not to mention one is Nascent Soul and the other is Transformation God. Who in this world can easily touch their memories.
Fang Zhe's original sea of consciousness was shattered. It would have been fine if someone really had the power to transform into gods, but Wang Jia was not. His sea of consciousness was tightly closed from beginning to end.
That is to say...
"Is it Him?" The swordsman in black asked uncertainly.
"possible."
He refers to God. But there is no true God in the world of cultivation, He is the way of heaven.
After realizing that they might be targeted by Tiandao, both of them chose to keep silent about the matter.
It's been half a stick of incense.
The two finally reached the end of the ninth floor of the black tower, and a long wind howled out.
These are two stone wells that are extremely abrupt on the ground. Their exquisite patterns inevitably remind people of the carved and gold-inlaid stone wells of wealthy people in Zhongdu.
"One person per person, guess the game, win on the left, lose on the right." Wang Jia was the first to suggest.
Fang Zhe naturally had no objections and slightly nodded, "Okay."
The two of them reached out their hands at the same time.
Just when he was about to guess the game, Wang Jia suddenly jumped into the well on the left without leaving any news.
"..."
Fang Zhe's throat moved, but he didn't say anything after all. He retracted his hand and calmly stepped into the black well on the right.
He knew...this Wang Jiaduo had a strange temper for many years.
How could the young boy in my memory be him!
Fang Zhe didn't finish his sentence. There seemed to be a voice in his heart telling him that in his extra memory, the person who learned swordsmanship from him was...a young medical practitioner.