Chapter 819: Chapter 191: That Year, That Night, That Storm, That Man
"Sun Wutian?"
Yan Nan was taken aback, his eyes narrowing: "What happened to him?"
"Mr. Sun has been in a deep sleep recovering, but recently he suddenly coughed up blood continuously..."
All the Old Demons were stunned: "What’s going on?"
"Let’s go and see."
They quickly left their seats and went together.
A while later, in front of the skeleton-like Sun Wutian who was deeply comatose and barely breathing, everyone looked at each other.
What is going on? How did he suddenly cough up blood again?
But still can’t wake up?
You look at me, I look at you, like monks in confusion.
...
Two teams of Martial Artists had quietly approached the Southeast, blending into the Jianghu. One team dressed in black like ink, the other in white like snow.
These were the people from the Netherworld Palace and Qingming Palace.
Lan Xinxue was among the team, her face full of anticipation.
Southeast, here I come.
Brother Fang, here I come.
And from the North, there were a few people quietly entering the Southeast as well.
Among them was the Heavenly Palace Moon Evil Star Lord, Shang Changzhen.
Around the same time.
Feng Yun, with two others, without concealing their identities, swaggered into the Southeast seventeen states of the Guardian Continent.
Along the way, they traveled leisurely and freely.
On a road about two thousand miles from the Southeast, an elderly man with an immortal-like aura, accompanied by a girl who seemed like his granddaughter, and the granddaughter had a nanny...
Also slowly making their way toward the Southeast.
The journey was long, and the three of them were only walking, without even riding a One horned Dragon Horse.
"That Faceless Soul Hooker, your fight was a bit rushed. Even though your cultivation is not as high, with your martial power and techniques, you can kill him without injury."
The elderly man said to the girl: "Why so rushed?"
"Granddaughter just wanted... to get to Baiyun State earlier..."
The girl lowered her head in shame, blood dripping from her shoulder.
In the battle just now, she got injured, and the old man did not care, nor did he let the nanny tend to her. According to the old man: No pain, no gain!
"On this journey, you’ve fought no less than thirty times; what have you realized?" the elderly man asked.
"This must be the Jianghu." the girl replied.
"Jianghu... heh heh, you’re still far from it!"
The elderly man said indifferently: "You haven’t met a real opponent yet, like the Guardian. The people you’ve killed along the way are bandits, bullies, lone thieves, rapists, and assassins; fundamentally, a Guardian is much harder to deal with."
The girl said: "Are Guardians that difficult? I really want to find one to practice with."
"You have just reached the Monarch Level, you are still far from being able to deal with a Guardian, even the weakest Guardian, an Emperor-level high stage Guardian, you can’t handle now."
"It’s not that you can’t kill them, nor that you’re not their match, but... if you wanted to kill one, you would undoubtedly pay a very heavy price."
"Each of those people has danced with death countless times and is an elite. Remember forever: a Guardian and a Guardian are different. They are people from two worlds."
The girl, of course, was Yan Beihan, frowned and said: "People from two worlds?"
Duan Xiyang’s eyes flashed with memories, he said: "Do you think I draw my spear quickly?"
"Fast!"
"But there was once an Emperor-level peak Martial Artist, who blocked my spear when I drew it."
Duan Xiyang’s eyes deepened, his thoughts seemed to return to that stormy night years ago.
That Divine Mountain Ruined Temple, that thunderstorm, and that night when the wind and rain ravaged the Mortal World.
And the anomaly created by piercing a fragmented soul with one spear, that blinding white light.
That year, that day, that temple, that violent storm in the mortal world, that lightning that illuminated the mountains and rivers.
That spear, thrust towards the person who leaped at it.
That person’s relieved smile.
Duan Xiyang has never forgotten, and the impression remains extremely deep over these years.
