Wen Jingge is poor, at least that's what she thinks.
"Where isn't poor?"
“Nowhere is poor…” the little boy said calmly, giving the impression that he had experienced a lot of hardships despite his young age.
"How so?"
The boy stopped talking; his throat hurt, and he couldn't speak.
The strange woman next to him didn't speak or get up. Just as the boy looked at her again, puzzled, he found that she had fallen asleep.
wack!
He muttered it to himself again.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
A sword flew back, overcoming numerous obstacles to return to Wen Jingge's side. The boy's eyes lit up as he looked at the purple sword, wondering whether he should wake up this strange man.
Just as he was thinking about it, the sword floated to his side. The two faced each other, and the little boy couldn't understand why he felt like an eye was watching him when he looked at the sword.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
The sword slashed horizontally towards him. Wen Jingge flipped over, and the Demon Harp froze in mid-air, the distance between him and the boy barely a foot apart.
Seeing that Wen Jinge was still asleep, the magic zither continued to play. The boy nervously gripped the soil on the ground, not bothering to call out to Wen Jinge; he was already terrified.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
A cool sensation spread through his body, and in a daze, he realized something. He wanted to scream, but he was afraid that Wen Jinge would see him naked. He wanted to run away, but his legs were useless, and he couldn't even crawl.
This strange, magical sword unleashed its power while its master slept, perhaps without even knowing why it would want to play a trick on a child.
It flew into the sky, its demonic energy thick and dense, because it had just been stained with a lot of blood. The children's bodies had already undergone abnormal changes. The master said that the demonic energy was for Ah Cai, but Ah Cai didn't know that!
It danced with sword flowers, using demonic energy to protect the blade. A killing blade that was gradually developing sentience was intolerable to the Heavenly Dao. Even in a long-parched desert, as long as it caused a change in the fortune, it could summon thunder.
If one usually keeps a low profile, even if Heaven dislikes it, it will turn a blind eye and let it go. But now, the Demon Harp has learned to provoke, just like its master.
Rumble! Rumble!
It wasn't long before it was spotted.
Rumble!
The boy trembled with fear as he watched the falling sword and the descending lightning.
Pat pat!
The magic harp went off to dance elsewhere. It was very agile and quick-witted, moving freely and skillfully through the thunderclouds, as content as a fish in flowing water.
Snap!
Rain fell on the boy.
Snap!
Raindrops bounced off Wen Jingge and splashed onto him.
Snap!
A faint purple light emanated from Wen Jinge's body; it was the barrier that Moqin had set up when she left, ensuring she wasn't exposed to any rain.
On the contrary, the boy's body was completely red after being washed by the rain, revealing his original skin color and scars.
The boy propped himself up and sat up from the ground. The rain blurred his vision, making it even harder for him to see the world clearly.
He touched his face and began to wash his body with the rainwater.
Wen Jingge blinked, then closed her eyes again.
Yes, it must be because you opened your eyes wrong.
What did she see?
A sallow-faced, thin, no, pale-faced, gaunt boy sat naked next to her, bathing in the rain.
She closed her eyes.
You're gradually relaxing; it must be because you were sleeping too soundly just now, which is why you're hallucinating.
She's been busy ever since she came into this world. The only time she had any leisure was during the initial days of exhilarating battles, after which she became busy again.
Today was a rare good night's sleep; in a place like this, I actually felt like I was getting a good night's sleep.
Wen Jingge herself found it unbelievable.
It's as if she was born to be in such a scene, on the battlefield... such a swirling effect is her destiny, but the self in her memory should have hated war.
Strangely, she could only sleep soundly with her head resting on the ground and among the corpses.
She opened her eyes again.
The boy continued washing himself. The rain seemed to have made him feel younger; he must have liked the rain.
"Child."
Wen Jingge's sudden voice startled him. He quickly covered his private parts, glared at her, his nose slightly red, and panted as he said angrily, "Your sword is a scoundrel!"
Wen Jingge: ...
She looked up at the sky, rubbed her aching head, and felt a little helpless when she realized that a faint layer of demonic energy had been transferred to her body. This demonic sword was really hard to control!
She had a general idea of the original owner of the Demon Harp Sword: it should be the Lord Ben who had disappeared from her mind, or her former self.
Knowing that she had sorted things out, the Lord had already left because he had let go of his obsession and dispersed on his own.
How far are we from leaving behind the state of "non-existence"?
The demonic zither must have thought its former master had returned, so it acted more recklessly and became the demonic zither it always was in front of her, instead of a wood-chopping knife, a vegetable-cutting knife, or a shovel for digging holes.
In other words, it has become arrogant and has the confidence to indulge itself.
"How is that being a hooligan?"
"It ripped my clothes off!"
The boy gritted his teeth, and after he finished speaking, his face turned red. The blush on his fair face was quite handsome, and it would have been even better if he had been properly dressed at that moment.
"You're going to strike me with lightning too!"
When the thunderclouds descended, he truly believed he was dead. Fortunately, the sword eventually went elsewhere.
"You still let the rain soak me!"
He wasn't afraid of the rain; in fact, he liked the rain that washed away all the gloom. However, he had an injured leg and various internal injuries in his upper body.
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