The woman on the bed frowned slightly, her long eyelashes like a waterfall trembled slightly, and she flapped her wings restlessly like a frightened butterfly. The past flashed through her mind one by one like a fast movie.
Distant childhood memories, a thousand years of lonely slumber, two unexpected awakenings that left rivers of blood. A thousand years of continuous songs of soothing the devil. And even those fleeting, vivid figures, sometimes cool and calm, sometimes graceful and lively, sometimes warm and passionate.
In the end, everything, the chaotic yet clear images, and the bloody scene on the Jiuyou Stage during the Concubine Conferment Ceremony, came to an abrupt end.
On the bed, the woman slowly opened her eyes, her purple eyes filled with mist, like the vast universe containing countless stars.
The faint scent of sandalwood and the distant, yet near, sound of a wooden fish diminished the overwhelming sense of silence and emptiness. He thought of the demon-soothing and tranquilizing music played by the qin and flute on the Jiuyou Terrace. A stern look flashed across his cool, flowing purple eyes.
The cool moon, like a hook, casts a faint halo, illuminating the figure sitting quietly in the empty courtyard, playing the zither. Dressed in a cassock, he appears serene and indifferent. Because of this single figure, the place he finds himself in no longer seems a dilapidated courtyard, but a paradise beyond.
The purple eyes of the seven emotions gradually deepened, what a wise and enlightened monk master who was almost a demon!
"Master..." Those two words, originally the most awe-inspiring and detached in other people's mouths, were now called by the Seven Emotions with a thousand twists and turns, full of affection.
The sound of the piano suddenly stopped. Shi An gently stroked his hands on Empathy, looking calmly and compassionately at the girl in front of him who was smiling charmingly and seductively and walked towards him step by step.
Qi Qing bent down, put her arms around Shi An's neck, sat on his lap, and raised her head slightly from her chest, laughing unscrupulously: "Master, I can't sleep, please give me some sutras... and save me."
No matter the teasing tone or frivolous actions, there was not a trace of desire to listen to the sutra.
Shi An lowered his eyes and looked at the person who was hanging on him, looking up and teasing him, with undisguised mockery and ridicule in his purple eyes, and even his breathing was not disturbed.
In Liu Ye's eyes, there was no disgust or rejection as Qiqing had expected, but rather a compassion that made her even darker.
The surroundings were so quiet that even Qiqing could hear his own increasingly frantic heartbeat. A flash of red flashed in his eyes, and his heart was filled with tyranny and murderous intent.
"When the Master arrived at Baolin, the governor of Shaozhou, Wei, and his officials went into the mountains to invite the Master to come out and preach to the public in the lecture hall of the Dafan Temple in the city..."
A voice that was gentle and calm, yet seemed to have the power to calm one's mind, sounded above his head. Qiqing closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the scarlet in his eyes had completely faded away.
Shi An felt that the girl in his arms had obviously relaxed her body and twisted her body a few times, as if she was looking for a comfortable position.
Shi An did not stop reciting the scriptures as he looked into the darkness in the distance. A faint light flashed in his eyes, and his emotions could not be seen clearly.
Under the moonlight, a young girl in purple lay in the arms of a cassock-clad monk, their figures intertwined in an extremely ambiguous atmosphere. In the gentle breeze and bright moonlight, the sound of chanting sutras was heard, and the girl's purple dress rustled lightly, creating a forbidden yet inexplicably harmonious atmosphere.
Qi Qing looked coldly at the four monks standing before him, murderous intent in his eyes. The four monks seemed oblivious to Qi Qing's murderous aura and remained motionless.
Qi Qing snorted coldly, "Looking for death..." His purple robe fluttered, his movements flowing like clouds and water, his murderous aura emanating from him. His bare hands formed blades, and his attacks were extremely brutal.
The four men fighting against him were all highly skilled monks from the French Temple, possessing both superior internal strength and martial arts skills. They worked in perfect harmony, taking turns attacking and defending. However, because they had no intention of killing Qi Qing, their attacks were less ferocious than his.
Although Qiqing was in danger without the magic sword in his hand, he was not out of control. For a while, the fight between the two sides was extremely intense.
"It's your turn..." Shi An sat upright, looking at the chessboard with a focused expression.
"Hmph... I'm done playing. Boring..." He glanced at the black pieces scattered across the board, surrounded by the white pieces. Pluto lazily leaned back on the couch and, with a flick of his finger, the black pieces were boxed in. "This is such a broken game! What's so fun about it!" Pluto scoffed.
"You want to play..." Shi An said with a smile.
Pluto choked and thought to himself: Who the hell told you to never let me go?
"I've already given you five..."
"Damn it..." The face of the evil Hades suddenly turned as dark as ink.
"Master uncle...Master uncle...a fight has broken out!" the little monk shouted in panic as he ran to the door, holding the door frame with one hand and using the other to catch his breath.
He looked up and saw two people in the room, one in red clothes and the other in monk's robes, both of whom took a fancy to him. He was so scared that he took a step back and was speechless for a while.
"Little monk, tell me, who was fighting with whom, huh?" The coquettish and enchanting man raised his eyebrows.
The little monk took two steps back in fear. Shi An glanced at the smug Pluto, his face showing helplessness. He asked, "Yuan Nai... why are you in such a hurry?"
Yuan Nai's face flushed with shame. After calming himself down, he bowed to Shi An and said, "My uncle, there's a fight going on up ahead. It's between that female donor and my uncle and the others."
"Why?" Hades couldn't help but ask, a rare serious expression appearing on his face.
Yuanno was also a little confused. He touched his bald head and rubbed his head: "I heard that the female donor said that she wanted to take back her things."
"Your own things?" Pluto looked puzzled, then looked at Shi An in surprise and asked, "Demon Sword? You didn't destroy the Demon Sword?"
It's no wonder Hades was surprised. Everyone at the ceremony had witnessed the power of the demonic sword. A single sorceress had already caused rivers of bloodshed for the nations of Mount Qishan. On the Nine Nether Terrace, the sight of the girl, wielding the demonic sword without control, was even more terrifying, enough to turn the entire continent into a purgatory.
Shi An said solemnly, "The magic sword is made of a very special material. No matter if it is burned by fire, chopped by an axe, or strengthened by internal force, it cannot be moved in the slightest. The sword demon has a strong evil aura, and those without deep internal force cannot get close to it.
So the elder brother decided to have him chant Buddhist scriptures day and night, hoping to reduce the evil sword's evil spirit, and then bring it back to the Faguo Temple and hand it over to the master for treatment.
"It's so bizarre. Just as Shengyuan Nation's Imperial Preceptor Zhibai said, could this demonic sword really be from a thousand years ago? And... that witch called Qiqing, is she really from a thousand years ago as he said? Someone who lived for a thousand years? How is that even possible?"
Looking at the people before him who had become phantoms with their extremely fast attacks, Hades' expression was solemn: "She is even more powerful than when she fought him before."
"Zheng..." Shi An raised his hand and a low and hoarse voice came out of nowhere.
Hades looked at Shi An, who sat on the ground, the zither resting on his knees. He looked calm and compassionate, his gaze fixed before him. His meditation mantra was long and distant, reaching deep into his heart.
With a loud bang, the four monks suddenly separated from each other in mid-air. After landing, they were forced to step back several steps before finally coming to a stop, raising a cloud of dust.
The purple-clad girl's skirt fluttered as she descended from the sky, spinning like a flower in the clouds, resolute and lonely. Her deep, emotionless purple eyes gazed at the four great monks, a trace of crimson spilling from her lips.
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