Chun Xia went to Wansong Tower to help Qu Hongguang return the mission order.
That is a secret realm experience mission that can only be received by third-level disciples.
There are many secret realms on the mainland, which are common resources in the world of immortal cultivation. They are opened regularly by various sects, and only disciples with third-level cultivation are eligible to enter.
Chunxia has long been full of hopes for this. She yearns for the resources in the secret realm, and is even more curious about the level of the disciples of other sects. She only needs to wait for herself to break through to the third level before she can receive the training mission.
At the counter on the second floor of Wansong Building, she received her share of the past few months and planned to go back and retreat directly to break through to the third level.
When I came out, I met the person I least wanted to see at the moment.
Wang Polu had just accepted the promotion ceremony. He was dressed in new clothes and looked very energetic. He was more than 1.9 meters tall, with broad and thick shoulders. He walked with a striding stride and a vigorous stride.
Chunxia was petite, barely taller than 1.6 meters. When she was hit by such an iron wall, she immediately fell to the ground with her head covered: "Wang Polu! Don't you know how to read the road?"
Wang Polu's voice came from above his head: "You are too short, I didn't see you."
Chunxia jumped up and punched his chest: "Why do you attack with height? I will grow taller!"
The little strength she exerted on Wang Polu's iron-like body was almost like scratching an itch.
Wang Polu waved her away nonchalantly, anxious to show off his new token to her: "Look, I'm in the third rank!"
Chunxia gritted his teeth: "King, Po, Lu..."
Wang Polu raised his chin: "Watch your words. You should call me Uncle Wang from now on."
Chunxia grabbed the token and bit it hard without any explanation. Wang Polu was so frightened that he quickly grabbed it: "Shut up! Let go..."
The two men soon got into a struggle.
Although private fights are not allowed in Fuxi Mountain, the patriarchal pavilion always turns a blind eye to such street gangster-style fights without magic - mainly because they don't see it!
There are already dignified second- and third-grade monks, but they are still chatting with each other at the gate of Wansong Tower. Even if the patriarchal pavilion issues a red order, it cannot afford to shame this person!
A group of disciples who were about to enter at the entrance of Wansong Tower saw clearly the two people rolling on the ground. One was the talented girl Chun Xia of the sect, and the other was Uncle Wang Polu who had just been promoted to the third rank...
They all pretended not to have seen it.
Even Liu Ruyi, who had been squatting at Wansong Tower all year round and determined to dig deeper into the gossip, silently put away the spiritual pen - writing this news would make Fuxishan's disciples' faces hurt to death.
After a while, the two people on the ground finally separated. Chun Xia's hair was loose and her eyes were wide open, like a cat with fried fur.
Wang Polu, with tears in his eyes, looked at the shiny new token with several teeth marks left on it. His huge figure sat on the ground and wailed: "You, you are going too far! In Chunxia, you must pay for my token!"
Chunxia stood up from the ground refreshed and said: "Oh, when I reach the third level of cultivation, I will give you my new token. Don't worry, I won't make you wait too long."
After saying that, she left with her head held high.
Wang Polu was so angry that he beat his chest and stamped his feet.
The idea of using a new token to pay him back was all nonsense. The token is bound to the monk's identity and cannot be changed or transferred. This token will follow you from the third level to the sixth level...
Thinking that he would have to carry this tooth-marked token for who knows how many hundreds of years in the future, Wang Polu wanted to use magic to overthrow him.
But he had just come out of Wansong Building. He heard that Zhao Yisu had broken something in Wansong Building last time. In order to ask for a letter of understanding from Manager Qian, he still didn't know where he was working as a coolie... Thinking of this, he could only sigh. He endured the tears this time and left holding his battle-damaged token.
When Wang Polu returned to stabilize his realm and Chunxia was anxious to retreat and break through, Duanyang, who was one step ahead of them, was already standing in front of the Tibetan Treasure Tower.
This is the place where Fuxi Mountain's magical instruments gather. The tower towers into the clouds, and the bottom of the tower is nourished day and night by natural spiritual veins to ensure that the spiritual power of the magical instruments in the tower lasts for millions of years.
Standing in front of the tower, there were about a dozen other disciples who had advanced to the third level, all of them looking forward to it.
At the entrance, the guarding disciple of the Tibetan Treasure Tower was introducing the basic situation: "The Tibetan Treasure Tower is ninety-nine stories high. Third-level disciples holding tokens can enter and choose any magic weapon to refine it into their own magic weapon. This tower has Fuxi. The protective array set up by the ancestors of the mountain himself, the higher the level of the magical artifacts, the higher the grade. But if you want to climb up, you have to rely on your own abilities. So far, the record of climbing the tower by a third-level disciple of Fuxi Mountain is ninety-eight floors, which is far from the top. It’s just one step away.”
Duanyang's eyes were blazing: "Who is that person?"
The disciple shook his head: "I was not born at that time, but the tower keepers have heard this story passed down from generation to generation. According to the calculation of time, if the old man is still in Fuxi Mountain, he should have a name, otherwise..."
Duanyang was silent.
He knew that if the disciple had no name left behind, he had probably died long ago.
Someone beside him whispered: "A genius who can climb to the ninety-eighth floor will also lose his life on the long journey to immortality. So what is the probability of my generation ascending..."
Everyone could not help but feel a sense of desolation.
Duanyang's eyes were clear: "So what if I can't cultivate my ascension? I'm obsessed with swordsmanship. If I can cultivate my sword intention in this limited life, have a long sword by my side, and roam around the world, why not be happy?!"
Everyone couldn't help but look at Duanyang with admiration in their eyes. He was worthy of being the disciple chosen by Master Duanying. He was determined and far better than them.
"Yes, just do your best and make sure your life is not in vain." The disciple who whispered had rekindled his fighting spirit and looked at Duanyang with gratitude.
The other disciples also quickly adjusted their mentality: "Let's open the tower."
The disciple guarding the tower confirmed that everyone's tokens were correct, gave each person a bell, and said: "This tower can only advance but not retreat. When you reach the point where you can't move forward, ring the bell and someone will pick you up." After that, he stepped forward and opened the protective formation.
The color of the tower is simple and low-key. The moment the protective array is opened, the old tower shines with golden light, and the sharp energy of the magic weapon hidden in it suddenly appears, showing its powerful pressure.
With a firm gaze, Duanyang led the team at the front and climbed straight up.
The resistance brought by the protective formation, coupled with the sense of oppression caused by the gathering of many magic weapons, made the monk feel doubly painful every time he went up a level.
When he reached the fiftieth floor, there were not many monks left behind Duanyang, and he himself felt very uncomfortable. Every breath was as painful as a knife or an axe.
But he endured it, remained firm and brave, and stepped onto the stairs ahead...
At the same time, Jiang Yunchen, who was far away on the top of the mountain, slowly opened his eyes.
After being in seclusion for half a year, he slowly exhaled the turbid air in his body and felt the state of abundant spiritual power.
The nearly five-inch-wide spiritual sea in his body has now been filled to one-third with spiritual energy.
As if feeling the spiritual energy fluctuation here, Master Chengde walked straight towards here.
Jiang Yunchen put away the protective formation outside the cave and stood up from the stone bed.
Master Chengde glanced at him, his eyes were amazed, and he nodded repeatedly: "In the middle stage of the third grade, the next generation is to be feared, and the next generation is to be feared!"
