Chapter 72 Spiritual Herbs (New 1900+) “You said it was the wind…
Jiang Luoming had disappeared for several years, but suddenly appeared at the Wax Apple Competition, causing quite a stir.
Fu Zhitao stood in the audience, digging into her Qiankun bag, looking anxious.
The world only knew that Immortal Yun had two disciples who were dull in talent and low in cultivation, but few people remembered the names of these two disciples and just treated the competition on the stage as an ordinary one.
But the disciples of Cangqiong Mountain are different.
On the day Yun Wanzhou brought Xie Wuyang to the mountain, the news spread throughout Cangqiong Mountain. Everyone thought that since he could win the favor of Yun Xianzun, he must be a rare and good seedling. Until the day of the apprenticeship ceremony, the disciples saw the face of their new junior brother.
At that time, Xie Wuyang was less than six years old. Due to long-term malnutrition, his face was as pale as paper and he was very thin.
He walked with a slow pace and his head down and eyes drooped. Even if he wore new brocade and silk clothes, he could not hide the shabby smell in his bones.
No one would have thought that the aloof, aloof and detached Immortal Lord would actually accept a beggar who had no affinity with becoming an immortal as his disciple.
It's really a waste of resources.
"Jiang Luoming is a figure who can be compared with the head of Lianwu Sect. If you ask me, Xie Wuyang will definitely lose."
"He only defended and didn't attack. He was so timid that he brought shame upon Cang Qiong Mountain!"
Fu Zhitao frowned and couldn't help but defend his junior brother, "Junior brother and Jiang Luoming are both Jindan, and Jiang Luoming has been locked up in the dungeon for several years, so junior brother may not lose."
"You think Xie Wuyang can defeat Jiang Luoming?" The disciple looked puzzled. "Jiang Luoming is only one step away from reaching the Nascent Soul stage. Plus, the spiritual weapon he holds is the one used by Elder Lianwu during his lifetime, and it's top-grade. How can Xie Wuyang win with his bare hands?"
There was a loud bang on the stage.
Fuzhitao choked on the words of defense in her throat and suddenly looked towards the stage.
A long sword mark spread from under Jiang Luoming's feet, splitting the platform in half.
Xie Wuyang felt a fishy taste in his throat, a mouthful of blood spurted out, and his knees softened and he fell to the ground.
The ribs were broken and the outcome was decided.
The Lianwu disciple raised his drumstick, gathering spiritual energy, and was about to strike the drum when a hoarse voice rang out from the stage, "When did I ever say I wanted to give up..."
The Lianwu disciple's expression was shocked, and the drumstick stopped in mid-air.
Xie Wuyang wiped the corner of his mouth casually, and the bright red bloodstains added a bit of evil to his look.
In the wax apple competition, life and death are of no concern.
However, all the participating disciples from the hundreds of immortal sects will take into consideration the friendship of their fellow Taoists and show mercy.
Xie Wuyang was seriously injured and it was useless to continue fighting. Everyone on and off the stage had tacitly agreed on the outcome of this game, but they never expected that Xie Wuyang would actually force himself to stand up.
"Who is this person? Is he crazy?!"
"Swords and knives are blind in front of my opponent. If I keep fighting like this, I'll either die or be crippled."
"He just reached the Golden Core stage and looks so young, how could he be so desperate and want to fight Jiang Luoming to the death?"
Fu Zhitao was so anxious that she turned around in place and squeezed through the crowd to the bottom of the platform.
The barrier isolated the flashes of swords and bloody shadows on the stage.
Fu Zhitao clenched the Qiankun bag in her hand, her eyes red.
There were many treasures in his Qiankun bag, but none of them could be used at this moment.
In full view of the crowd, Xie Wuyang slowly stood up.
Before his knees could straighten, Jiang Luoming's spiritual weapon pierced Xie Wuyang's chest like thunder breaking through the air.
"puff--"
The sharp blade pierced through the flesh, and blood splattered out.
The exclamations from the audience passed through the barrier and became unclear when they reached Xie Wuyang's ears.
Suddenly, Xie Wuyang felt that this scene seemed familiar.
Everyone was watching as a sword pierced his heart.
Xie Wuyang raised his head with a pale face and met Jiang Luoming's fierce eyes.
In his confused state, Xie Wuyang shook his head in denial.
Not really, there are always some differences.
Xie Wuyang curled the corner of his lips and raised his hand to press the sword on his chest.
Jiang Luoming's pupils shrank, and he felt something was wrong. He tried to pull out the magic weapon with his wrist, but the other end was held tightly in Xie Wuyang's hand and he couldn't move it at all.
Jiang Luoming gnashed his teeth, his eyes widening, and he circulated his spiritual power under his palm, suddenly attacking, "You...you are simply courting death!"
"Junior brother!" Fu Zhitao shouted.
Just when everyone thought that Xie Wuyang was doomed, a bolt of thunder suddenly struck down from above and landed on the two of them.
In an instant, smoke billowed.
Fuzhitao's expression changed, and she tried to rush onto the platform on tiptoe, but she only encountered an icy barrier.
"Dead...dead?" The news spread among the crowd like a stone dropped into a pond.
"No way... after all, it's a golden elixir..."
"Where are the elders from the Lotus Mist Sect and Cangqiong Mountain? Why haven't they appeared yet?"
"It's no wonder Jiang Luoming is so angry. It was Xie Wuyang who insisted on fighting. On the high platform, life and death are at stake..."
"This disciple of Cang Qiong is truly stubborn..."
As the disciples of the Immortal Sect discussed, the smoke on the platform gradually dissipated.
A figure holding a long sword slowly straightened his bent back.
"No, that's not right...isn't that a disciple from Cang Qiong Mountain?"
I don’t know who was the first to exclaim in surprise, but Fuzhitao, who was heartbroken, had her pupils shrink and her face was replaced by ecstasy.
"Junior brother! You win!"
Who...who won?
The monks opened their eyes wide as if they had just woken up from a dream, and looked at the people on the stage in disbelief.
Xie Wuyang felt as if his entire body was crushed by a heavy object, and the pain was screaming in the gaps between his bones.
His head was dizzy and his vision was not very clear. He forced himself to hold on to his last bit of clarity, threw away the spiritual weapon that did not belong to him, and staggered down the platform.
At the same time, the drumbeat signaling the end of the competition sounded, "Bout 54, Cangqiong Mountain's Xie Wuyang wins!"
Nothing matters anymore.
The noisy sound hurt Xie Wuyang's eardrums. When he was about to fall to the ground, a pair of hands suddenly supported his shoulders.
Xie Wuyang forced himself to open his eyes and met Fu Zhitao's anxious expression, "Brother Fu, did I win?"
"We win, we win!" Fuzhitao nodded quickly.
Xie Wuyang felt relieved.
So...very good.
At least there is still a chance to win.
If he was lucky enough to find the Nightmare Stone, he could leave Cangkong Mountain.
The mountains are high and the waters are far, let him be free.
—
The two disciples of Yun Xianzun of Cangqiong Mountain became famous in one battle, and the news of their victory over opponents of higher levels spread throughout most of the cultivation world in one day.
Those who felt they were bound to lose that day walked through the crowd covered in dust and locked themselves in their houses and refused to go out.
Fuzhitao had been stared at so many times that her scalp tingled.
He held the boiled medicine, took a deep breath, and after a long time, he escaped from the gaze of countless eyes and knocked on the door in front of him.
"Junior brother, it's time to take the medicine."
Xie Wuyang's voice came from inside the house, "Come in."
Fu Zhitao pushed the door open and walked in.
The windows and doors in the house were closed and it was dark.
Fu Zhitao groped her way to the table with ease, frowned, and put down the medicine bowl. "Junior Brother, why don't you turn on the light?"
Xie Wuyang laughed in a muffled voice, his voice so hoarse it was frightening. "Brother, do you think I can get out of bed like this?"
Fu Zhitao said nothing more. With a wave of his arm, he lit the candle on the table and handed the medicine bowl to Xie Wuyang. His tone sounded unhappy, "Junior brother, why are you fighting so hard? If the master saw you so badly injured, he would definitely be unhappy."
Xie Wuyang gulped down the medicine in one breath and wiped his mouth twice. "Just don't tell Master."
Handing the empty bowl to Fu Zhitao, Xie Wuyang retreated to his bed and covered himself with the quilt. Just as he was about to take another nap to recuperate, Fu Zhitao suddenly spoke in a shocking tone, "Master certainly wouldn't want Junior Brother to lose his life for him."
Xie Wuyang almost choked to death on his saliva, "When did I ever say it was for Master?"
Fu Zhitao asked doubtfully, "Little Junior Brother, isn't it time to fulfill your promise to Master to get into the top 300 in this competition?"
Xie Wuyang didn't know why he felt relieved, "Not really..."
Feeling a dull pain in his chest, Xie Wuyang realized his current physical condition and pulled the quilt over his head, feeling extremely annoyed. "Besides, with my injuries like this, I'm afraid I won't even be able to climb onto the competition platform, right?"
The quilt on his face made Xie Wuyang feel uncomfortable all over. After Xie Wuyang finished speaking, he waited for a long time but did not get a response from Fu Zhitao, so he lifted the quilt to find out what was going on.
Fuzhitao's figure was blurry, with only her eyes still bright.
Looking down slightly, Xie Wuyang noticed Fu Zhitao's hands behind his back, "Brother, is there anything else?"
Fuzhitao hurriedly shook her head, then nodded hurriedly, "No... no... I have something to do."
As he spoke, Fu Zhitao pulled his hand out from behind his back and handed it to Xie Wuyang.
As the fist opened, a pointed, green grass leaf lay in the palm of his hand.
Xie Wuyang looked up in confusion.
Fu Zhitao whispered, "Eat this, and your injury will be healed."
Xie Wuyang took the grass leaf and asked, "What is this?"
He didn't know if it was his illusion, but Fukunomo's hands seemed to be shaking a little.
"It's... Wind Spirit Grass."
"Wind Spirit Grass..." The more Xie Wuyang looked at it, the more familiar it looked. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "You said this is Wind Spirit Grass?!"
Fuzhitao nodded, "Yes..."
His voice became quieter.
Realizing that something was wrong with Fu Zhi Tao, Xie Wuyang raised his eyes and glanced at him, only to be met with a pale and creepy face.
Xie Wuyang frowned, "What's wrong with you?"
Fuzhitao shook her head and said, "I just plucked a leaf..."
Why does pulling leaves turn out like this?
Xie Wuyang's eyebrows twitched.
Fengling grass is an ancient rare grass that has been extinct for thousands of years and there are few records of it even in ancient books.
Xie Wuyang had only seen it by chance in a medical book in the demon world and had a vague impression of it.
Where did the Peach of Fortune get the Wind Spirit Grass?
Xie Wuyang pursed his lips and grasped the grass in his palm, "Brother, could it be that you have entered some ancient abyss, so you have suffered such..." serious injuries.
Fu Zhitao's body swayed, and she fell on Xie Wuyang with a thud, knocking back the words that were on his lips.
Xie Wuyang: "..."
It took a long time for Xie Wuyang to recover from the excruciating pain. He struggled to move the half of his body that was pressed by Fu Zhitao and got off the bed.
His ribs were broken and he was stabbed with a sword. If it happened to an ordinary mortal, he would even die from the pain. Even though Xie Wuyang had the cultivation level of a Golden Core and had demonic energy protecting his body, he still felt excruciating pain.
Even breathing became a difficult task, let alone using spiritual power.
Xie Wuyang sat down on the edge of the bed, put his index fingers together to try to gather spiritual power, and tried several times before he could gather a large spot of light.
Xie Wuyang's face was pale. He raised his hand and touched the Wind Spirit Grass. In an instant, a warm current rushed into his fingertips.
It is undoubtedly Fengling Grass.
Xie Wuyang's face lit up with joy, and he forced himself to pour himself another cup of tea. Then he tore the Kongling grass into several pieces and threw them into the cup, and drank it with the tea.
The strong spiritual power flowed into every part of his body, and even the wound on his chest was wrapped in warmth.
It was like a downpour after a long drought. Xie Wuyang narrowed his eyes and suddenly felt relaxed all over.
…
As one of the three great immortals, there are quite a few cultivators participating in the Wax Apple Competition.
In addition to the more than 3,000 monks who had visiting cards, there were also many scattered and uninvited monks. However, there were only more than 1,500 people who were able to enter the competition.
Xie Wuyang stayed in the house for three days. On the fourth day, he couldn't bear it anymore and left.
The competition was only halfway through at that time, and the disciples present were either crying or laughing, either feeling proud or filled with resentment.
Everyone saw how Xie Wuyang won the competition that day.
He bears the pressure of the spiritual weapon on his body, and then uses it as a medium to attract thunder from the sky, which will seriously injure the opponent while also affecting himself.
Injuring the enemy by a thousand will only result in eight hundred casualties for yourself. No one else would do this except Xie Wuyang.
What no one expected was that Xie Wuyang, who was supposed to have been recuperating in bed for several months, appeared in the competition venue again in public, and he looked energetic, not at all like someone who was seriously injured.
There was a burst of discussion around.
"I clearly saw him being severely injured by Jiang Luoming's spiritual weapon that day, and he was also struck by a thunderbolt. Why does it look like..." The cultivator secretly glanced at Xie Wuyang, "It doesn't look like..."
"Not only does it not look like that, but how come it seems to have such abundant spiritual energy?"
"After all, he is Yunxianzun's disciple, so it's not surprising that he uses some high-quality elixirs."
The monk was talking to someone at the climax of the conversation when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the protagonist of the conversation suddenly step forward and walk towards them.
In a panic, the monk quickly pushed the arm of the person next to him and said, "Shut up."
"Why are you shutting up? Didn't I just mention Yun Xianzun? Not only that, I heard that before Xie Wuyang entered the mountain, he was a..."
"My fellow immortals," a voice interrupted the cultivators, "I'd like to ask if Cang Qiong Mountain's chief disciple, Xu Pingsheng, has participated in the battle?"
The monk frowned and immediately lost his good mood, "Didn't you see we were talking about something..."
Come to an abrupt end.
When the monk saw Xie Wuyang's face, his eyes widened as if he had seen a ghost.
"It's my fault," Xie Wuyang pursed his lips, as if feeling extremely guilty. "It's just that Xu Pingsheng is my senior brother, and we have a very good relationship. I was lying in bed for a long time, and I don't know if I missed his game."
Several monks looked at each other with embarrassment on their faces. I wonder if they felt guilty for talking about others behind their backs. When they spoke again, their tone was much better. "You are talking about Xu Pingsheng. His competition just ended yesterday."
Xie Wuyang asked: "What was the result?"
The monk said, "We won, and it was a great success!"
Xie Wuyang raised his eyebrows, "Oh? How did he become so brilliant?"
"He ascended to heaven on the spot, facing the Nascent Soul Tribulation Thunder, and was able to defeat a disciple in the late Golden Core stage in three moves, kicking a corner of that disciple off the platform."
Xie Wuyang narrowed his eyes, a cold light flashing in his eyes, "You said Xu Pingsheng has reached the Nascent Soul stage?"
"I saw it with my own eyes, it's absolutely true." said the monk.
Xie Wuyang sneered, "Very good."
Even Wu Hanfeng was only in the late Nascent Soul stage, but he never expected that the disciple he taught would be so gifted.
In the Nascent Soul stage, there is no rival in the lower realms.
In this way, I'm afraid Xu Pingsheng will definitely take the top spot in the competition.
"Thank you, fellow immortals," Xie Wuyang suppressed the emotion in his eyes, "If that's the case, I'm relieved."
"Your senior brother is really amazing." The monk sighed.
"Of course." Xie Wuyang's expression was mocking, and he quietly reached for his waist. "If you, a bunch of Jindan cultivators, are allowed to hold out until the end, and word spreads to the common people, won't they think that there are no more people in the cultivation world?"
At the same time, the hand at the waist was quickly withdrawn, and a piece of talisman paper was stuck on the monk's mouth, emitting a ray of spiritual light.
"Ugh—" The monk's pupils widened, his lips tightly closed, and he whimpered a few times.
Xie Wuyang ignored him, narrowing his eyes as he glanced at the others. "Didn't your sect teach you, fellow immortals, to 'always reflect on your own mistakes, and never criticize others'?"
Several monks' faces turned red, and no one dared to say a word.
I could only stand there and watch Xie Wuyang turn around and leave.
—
The first competition lasted for a full ten days.
Thousands of monks fought each other, and the various magic techniques and moves were dazzling.
For several days, Xie Wuyang stood on the viewing platform. Finally, he saw the list of promoted disciples on the golden banner on the platform.
No more, no less, five hundred people.
In the second round of competition, one hundred will be selected.
On the high platform, a bronze mirror as tall as a person was placed there at some point, facing the seats of the leaders.
Xie Wuyang glanced absentmindedly at the seat of Sect Leader Lianwu, and only saw Jiang Lin sitting there, but Jiang Shutong was nowhere to be found.
Jiang Shutong's respect for Jiang Lin is obvious to all the immortal sects, and the position of the sect leader was given up by Jiang Lin. If Jiang Shutong is unable to attend due to some reasons, it is reasonable to ask him to take over the position.
Everyone thought so, and even if they had questions in their hearts, they did not dare to ask easily.
Only Wu Hanfeng glanced at Jiang Lin indifferently and sneered, "How could your sect's leader be so ignorant of the seriousness of the matter? Thousands of cultivators have gathered here just to pay their respects and congratulate you, and now the new leader is absent for no reason. Isn't this too presumptuous?"
Jiang Lin said calmly, "The barrier at the back mountain is damaged. Ah Shu went to repair it and is unable to show up. I hope Sect Leader Wu will forgive me."
"How can it be such a coincidence? Could it be that someone is jealous of the young talent of Sect Leader Jiang and did this on purpose?" Wu Hanfeng said in a sarcastic tone.
In the past, Jiang Lin would have been furious, but today he was unusually friendly. He smiled and shook his head, "Probably not."
Wu Hanfeng didn't say anything else and couldn't help but look at Jiang Lin.
Seeing that the competition was about to begin, Jiang Lin stood up and walked to the center. With a wave of his hand, the sound transmission spell he had set up in advance spread throughout the Lianwu Gate.
"For the second round of competition, elite disciples from each sect must enter the dense forest illusion together. The sect leaders and I have placed thirty demon spirit fruits in the illusion in advance. The disciple who obtains the demon spirit fruit will pass the level."
As they were talking, several Lianwu disciples came with trays and gave each disciple a string of Bodhi bracelets.
Xie Wuyang casually kicked the bracelet into his arms and heard Jiang Lin's voice coming from the sound transmission note.
"Wherever the demon spirit fruit is, there is a demon beast of intermediate or higher spiritual rank stationed there. This bracelet leads to the exit of the secret realm. If you encounter an unexpected event, you can tear the bracelet apart, give up the competition, and leave the realm in time."
"Disciple, please remember—"
The bronze mirror opened wide.
Inside the bronze mirror, there is a dense forest and overgrown wild grass. Occasionally, birds and beasts fly by, leaving ripples on the bronze mirror.
As the magic spells were unleashed, a ray of light shone on the disciples.
All I heard was Jiang Lin's loud voice, "Set up the formation—"
The magic circle stopped, and the five hundred disciples disappeared in the blink of an eye.
At the same time, the dense forest in the bronze mirror gradually changed, reflecting the words and actions of the disciples entering the formation.
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