Chapter 279 – The Sword Calls (2/2)

”Just what's going on here?!”

That demon woman pushed her head through a Yingou stew jade cabbage and angrily shouted, her eyes expressing bewilderment.

The last thing Chen Changsheng took out was that which he possessed the most of—books.

Nobody knew that the three thousands scriptures of the Daoist Canon were no longer in Xining Village's old temple, but rather with Chen Changsheng.

He took out the three thousand scriptures of the Daoist Canon so that he could use the scriptures to beat the demons.

Boom!

Countless books filled up that space created by the two wings of light.

The two wings of light could no longer stay closed.

Accompanied by a cry of shock and even a little absurdity, those two wings finally separated.

The books and food shot off in all directions like powerful arrows, then gradually slowed down.

Regretfully, even though the wings of light had come apart, those two women still held Chen Changsheng tightly. He continued to sink towards the bottom of the lake.

Those books and food, the Night Pearl and the boxes of silver, all sank with him, creating an exceptionally strange scene.

The Night Pearl was not far from him. It illuminated the pitch-black water, letting him see very clearly some of the things that were falling with him.

Those books and food, the Night Pearl and the silver, the various herbs: they were his living, his memories. In other words, they were his life.

Seeing the items, he very easily remembered those days more than ten years ago in Xining Village's old temple where he recited the Daoist Classics with his senior by the riverside. He remembered the little girl that climbed the wall from the Hundred Herb Garden to the Orthodox Academy. As he sunk towards the bottom of the lake, he thought of many things and many people.

The rich Tang Thirty-Six, the poor Xuanyuan Po, Jin Yulu drinking tea by the gate of the Orthodox Academy, the Pope, Mei Lisha, master, senior, are you still doing okay?

Then he saw a letter and a little trinket, and this made him think of the white crane.

As he continued to sink, it grew colder and colder, and death grew closer and closer. His Qi grew increasingly weak, although judging by his still-open eyes, he seemed very calm.

His eyes were so clean that even in the water, they still gave off the impression of a clear and limpid lake, able to reflect one's innermost thoughts.

This sort of calmness and cleanliness made those two women feel an unprecedented unease. It was like that first day in which they possessed life and still saw Nanke's cold and indifferent appearance.

Amongst the items that were sinking to the lake bottom with Chen Changsheng, the brightest was obviously the Night Pearl. They did not notice that behind the radiance of the Night Pearl was a metal ball. Through the gentle movements of the water, the metal ball slowly landed in his palm. He subconsciously drew his fingers together and gripped it tightly.

The extremely faint and elusive sword intent was still in the deepest depths of the lake, seemingly calling him, wanting to him to cut open a path to live. Yet his blood had almost run dry, his Qi was about to disappear. Even if he could perceive it, what use was it? Even if he could grip that metal ball, he had no means of taking out the Yellow Paper Umbrella, so what use was it?

Suddenly, the metal ball fiercely shuddered in his hand, then began to quickly spin.

With a clamor, the scales on the metal ball split open, then with the clashing and rubbing of metal, an umbrella swiftly bloomed in the water, splashing water in all directions.

The Yellow Paper Umbrella was once more in Chen Changsheng's hand!

Only now did the two women realize, but they were too late.

The Yellow Paper Umbrella began to quickly revolve, stirring up the water. The seemingly dull edge of the umbrella scored countless deep and bloody wounds on the bodies of those two women.

With cries of agony, the two women were jolted apart by that powerful force.

The water at the bottom of the lake stirred once more, and once again it seemed like it was boiling. The Yellow Paper Umbrella brought along the finally unconscious Chen Changsheng as it barreled through the lake like a dragon made of water, breaking open a path. It hurtled swiftly towards some place several li away.

That elusive sword intent was there.

The strand of sword intent had never been calling Chen Changsheng. It had been calling the umbrella!