Zhao Yisu on the fifty-eighth floor slowly opened his eyes.
Feeling the abundant spiritual power in his body, Zhao Yisu's eyes were full of joy.
This is really a Feng Shui treasure place. The efficiency of meditating for a day is more than three times that of outside!
She counted the bells while meditating. Counting her, there should be four people left in the tower.
The sky turned completely dark, and Zhao Yisu climbed up two more floors.
On the sixtieth floor, the spiritual power here is a little stronger, but the sense of oppression it brings has also doubled.
Zhao Yisu closed his eyes and felt that the spiritual energy in the spiritual sea was actively resisting the pressure from the outside without her guidance, and it was flowing faster and faster.
This kind of reaction of spiritual energy indicates that the body's ability to withstand stress has reached its limit, and the spiritual energy flows on its own in order to protect the body.
Zhao Yisu began to feel pain, but what followed was an increase in tempering efficiency due to the rapid flow of spiritual energy through the meridians.
Generally speaking, when she was practicing outside, she guided the spiritual energy around her body and it took more than ten minutes to temper all the meridians in her body. But now, the spiritual energy in Zhao Yisu's body almost took just over a minute to complete all the meridians in her body!
Zhao Yisu pressed his ecstasy and stopped meditating again.
This is a cultivation method that is unimaginable for ordinary monks. Because such rapid spiritual energy surrounds the body, the quality and speed of the spiritual energy introduced by the monks are extremely high. However, Zhao Yisu's breathing laws are used to the extreme, which can just keep up with the spiritual energy surrounding the body. speed.
She could no longer care about the pain and greedily absorbed the rich spiritual energy around her...
High up in the Tibetan Treasure Tower, on the 98th floor, Jiang Yunchen's spirit-washing cup was spinning rapidly, and he was feasting on the spiritual energy in the tower.
The two of them came back together by different routes, both meditating and practicing, enjoying the perfect environment. Little did they know that Chunxia and Wang Polu on the 80th floor were already in big trouble.
The eighty-fourth floor.
Chun Xia's spiritual power was almost exhausted, and he should have picked up the magic weapon and left the tower immediately.
But for some reason, Chunxia felt vaguely that something was wrong with the magic weapons in the tower.
She was born with an extremely sensitive sense of magic weapons, so she was able to control the fourth-grade golden cauldron with her second-grade cultivation.
Logically speaking, the magical artifacts in the Tibetan Treasure Tower are all natal magical artifacts prepared for third-grade disciples. Regardless of their source or grade, these magical artifacts should all have one thing in common, which is that they are ownerless.
Only weapons without an owner can be refined by monks into life magic weapons.
But Chunxia noticed a hint of spiritual consciousness nearby.
why is that? If a master's weapon is taken away by someone who doesn't know it and is forcibly refined, it will definitely damage the very foundation of the monk. Since the Tibetan Treasure Tower is a benefit prepared by Fuxi Mountain for its disciples, how could it possibly bury such a hidden danger?
Or is it that someone has tampered with the magic weapon here in order to frame the third-grade disciple?
Chun Xia couldn't tell. If she was alone at this moment, she would put her life first and get out of the tower immediately.
But now Wang Polu is still in front, and Chunxia and he are holding each other's breath, neither of them wants to leave the tower first. Half of each other's lives have been lost, and they are still competing until now.
Wang Polu was actually at the end of his strength. His huge physique seemed to be fine, but in fact his internal organs had been injured long ago. He reluctantly swallowed the blood in his stomach, unwilling to show his cowardice in front of Chun Xia.
Seeing that Chun Xia was already covered in blood and had no intention of ringing the bell, Wang Polu gritted his teeth and stepped onto the eighty-fifth floor.
The men at Midangfeng are all strong-willed. He, Wang Polu, has received the kindness of his master and the righteous favor of his fellow disciples, so he must make achievements to repay everyone!
The road forward was almost bloody every step of the way. Wang Polu never cried out in pain even though he had endured all the hardships of physical training. He was silent now and climbed firmly and bravely.
Behind him, Spring and Summer were almost crumbling.
Hold on a little longer, hold on a little longer... Whenever Chun Xia feels that he is about to die, he will feel that the masterful consciousness is getting closer to him.
Maybe it's on the next floor, where you can see the secret of the magic weapon...
In this way, Chun Xia deceives herself and steps onto a new level step by step.
Every second that passed had lost its meaning. She felt that the pain lasted as long as a century. For a moment, she even thought that she was in hell. She couldn't help but start to tremble, and she felt a sense of despair that she wanted to die.
At this moment, Wang Polu's heavy footsteps hit the floor, pulling her back from the illusion.
Eighty-nine floors!
right here!
A flash of divine consciousness burst out with a strong summons, which instantly brought Chunxia back to his senses from the near-death feeling!
Wang Polu felt that he was about to die. He had turned into a ball of rotten flesh, and every cell was oozing blood. The ninetyth floor, one step away, was like a mirage.
He knew it was time to get out of the tower.
Wang Polu touched the bell, but when he was about to shake it, he was suddenly grabbed by a small hand.
"Well--"
He only had time to groan, and after the world started spinning, he hit a rock hard!
When he opened his eyes again, he didn't know how much time had passed...
The surroundings were blank, with only the sound of his own breathing echoing in his ears.
There was a huge mirror above his head, reflecting the blank surroundings.
He saw himself in the mirror.
No, to be precise, it should be me before I was ten years old.
At that time, he had not yet set foot in Fuxi Mountain and was starving in the village.
His parents died when he was young, and his mute grandmother worked hard to support him and raise him up. He is tall and strong, and has an honest heart. This is what his grandmother is most proud of, but it has become the reason why people in the village bully and use him... When he was ten years old, his grandmother lingered on the sickbed, and he became the pillar of the family, spending every day Assigned the heaviest farming tasks, going up the mountains and in the fields, working all day without daring to slack off. All he wants is to save some copper coins so that he can buy some good medicine for his grandmother.
Because he went out to farm, he was worried that his grandmother would have no one to take care of her at home, so he asked the neighbor's widow Aunt Zhou for help, and even took the initiative to take on the task of carrying firewood for her family...
Everything in the past is reflected in the mirror and is vividly visible.
Wang Polu looked at his grandmother in the mirror. She had passed away, but her voice and appearance were still there in the mirror, which made him burst into tears.
The grandmother in the mirror was lingering on the sick bed. Wang Polu will always remember that day. When he went out, his speechless grandmother looked at him with a pair of loving eyes as usual, waiting for his return.
Wang Polu saw his ten-year-old self picking up a pole and a hatchet and going up the mountain, facing the loess and back to the sky, working from sunrise to sunset. He looked at all this without any resentment or dissatisfaction. Although he was poor, he had won the heart of his grandmother. Although he is young, he is able to support himself and be filial and loyal to his grandmother...
etc.
Wang Polu's sobs suddenly stopped.
The scene in the mirror suddenly split into two scenes. One was when he was ten years old collecting firewood on the mountain, and the other was when Aunt Zhou picked up a stick and whipped his grandmother who was lingering on the sickbed!
ah--! !
There was obviously no sound in the picture, but Wang Polu seemed to be able to hear his grandmother's painful cry! !
When the stick went down, even Wang Polu's breath was cut off.
His whole body was shaking uncontrollably, and strong fear and hatred burst out of his eyes!
