Volume 1 Lin Yuan Chapter 107: Can Tucheng forbid you from screaming today?
"Have you seen this thing?" A tattered storage bag appeared in Wang Chen's hand.
This most basic storage tool has a smooth body that has become matted with hair after being rubbed, and it looks as if it has been stained by dirt for many years, with gray and black spots appearing on it.
It was the remains of the unknown corpse in the dark tunnel in the ancient tomb where no one could see.
Zhang Muran's originally evasive gaze was suddenly firmly attracted by the worn storage bag and could not move at all.
She suddenly had an ominous premonition in her heart, because this storage bag was the most treasured thing by her father Zhang Dacai.
"This is my father's storage bag. How come it is here with you?" she blurted out.
"Who is your father?" Wang Chen was still confirming.
"Zhang Dacai." Zhang Muran's pupils trembled as he stared at Wang Chen closely.
Wang Chen sighed and handed over the storage bag. After all, he guessed right.
The corpse in the ancient tomb at that time was the corpse of Zhang Dacai.
He probed his spiritual sense into the storage bag and found a pile of dry bones in the narrow space.
Zhang Muran understood instantly, and tears suddenly rolled down his cheeks.
"Don't be too sad. Your father will be very happy to see you now."
Wang Chen hated to see such sorrow the most, so he tried to persuade them.
Zhang Muran's face seemed to be squeezed by an invisible hand. It slowly deformed, his mouth opened, his eyes drooped, and his brows furrowed.
She then sobbed in pain, tears streaming down uncontrollably.
She remembered that every time they met, Zhang Dacai would give him spirit stones.
Sometimes there are ten or so, sometimes seven or eight.
But he was never willing to spend ten spirit stones to buy a storage ring.
He tried his best and gave himself the best until he was reduced to a pile of bones.
Wang Chen looked at Zhang Muran quietly without saying a word.
In the world of cultivation, countless cultivators die every day. It is not an exaggeration to say that they die without a burial place.
What Zhang Dacai can never forget is his daughter Zhang Muran. It is already a very lucky thing for him to be able to return to Zhang Muran now.
There was some noise outside Tucheng.
Neither Wang Chen nor Zhang Muran even glanced at it.
Until a noisy sound of footsteps came over.
"Today is a big day for Tucheng, no crying is allowed!" A cold and unquestionable voice sounded.
Wang Chen turned his head and saw three cultivators wearing lion-patterned armor and with flying swords of the same style and ornately decorated hanging from their waists. They stood coldly by with murderous auras on their bodies.
The leader among them was very young, only slightly older than Wang Chen, and had already reached the ninth level of Qi Condensation. The two men on his left and right were at the eighth level of Qi Condensation.
Suddenly, the inn was filled with guests, and no one dared to make a noise. They all recognized that this was the law enforcement cultivator from Tucheng.
There are many places for trials and exploration in the world of cultivation. The red copper, fire essence, fire lotus and other items produced in the Red Flame Mountain are not as diverse as those in the Forbidden Forest, the South China Sea, and the Dead Swamp in the Northern Frontier.
But it is a necessary item for making flying sword magic weapons and is very valuable.
Therefore, the mountain with its harsh and dangerous environment is ultimately a treasure land that attracts many cultivators to seek opportunities.
As the only big city thousands of miles away from the Chiyan Mountain, Tucheng is a prosperous city with various industries such as buying and selling, refining, and services, which eventually created this neat, solid and bustling city.
Such a city will naturally have powerful rulers and law enforcers who maintain order.
Zhang Muran hurriedly wiped away his tears with his sleeve and tried his best to stop sobbing. His eyes were red and swollen, and he looked a little flustered.
Wang Chen frowned slightly.
He was somewhat displeased by this overbearing feeling.
But since it was someone else's job, he didn't care too much about it. After all, he was not the kind of devil who would kill your entire family if you made him unhappy.
The leading law enforcement cultivator was tall and handsome, with an overbearing aura in his brows, just like his words. Seeing that Wang Chen and Zhang Muran were still sitting there without saying a word, his face suddenly became stern and he lectured:
"If you want to cry, go outside and cry. You and your wild monk have ten breaths to leave the city. The city must not be contaminated by bad luck today!"
If we talk about what happened before, it can be regarded as the law enforcement duty of the law enforcement monks. After all, if there is a happy event , no one would want someone to cry by the side.
This is a custom passed down from generation to generation.
But the following sentence is already a serious provocation.
Wang Chen was a man who even dared to confront Xue Wentian, so how could he tolerate such a provocation? He moved his wrist and was ready to slap him in the face.
But he heard a law enforcement cultivator with a beard on his right suddenly say: "Could this lady be from the Huayan Sect?"
Zhang Muran raised his red eyes, glanced at the cultivator, and nodded in response.
The bearded man also nodded to him in a friendly manner.
Even though it is not one of the hundred sects, the Huayan Sect is still a sect after all. It is half a level stronger than gangs, academies, and even some small towns and aristocratic families. Generally speaking, when they go out, they will enjoy some special treatment.
"Huayan Sect?" The arrogant young man frowned. A trace of contempt flashed in his eyes.
It is true that the Huayan School is a sect, but within the sect, there is a strict hierarchy from menial servants, outer disciples, inner disciples, inheritance disciples, to personal disciples.
If it was a disciple of inheritance or a direct disciple, he would indeed have to be polite and even make friends with the other party, but Zhang Muran looked to be in his early twenties and had only the seventh level of Qi Condensation. At best, he was just an inner disciple.
And they are the bottom group among the inner sect.
In this case, would Yuan Yu, as one of the youngest law enforcement team leaders in Tucheng, take a sect cannon fodder disciple with no future for cultivation seriously?
As for the casual cultivator at the sixth level of Qi Condensation next to him.
Where did this wild monk come from? Do you want to have sex with this woman? He was even more disdainful.
"So you are a disciple of Huayan Sect. Didn't your master teach you not to run to crowded places and cry? Do you have any shame?" Yuan Yu, with his hands behind his back, legs spread apart and a gloomy face, taught Zhang Muran, who was one or two years older than him.
The diners present, including cultivators from all over the world, all thought it was natural.
At Yuan Yu's age, he has reached the ninth level of Qi Condensation. Among the three, he is the youngest, but he is the leader. It is obvious that he is highly regarded by Tu Cheng. It is natural that he is a little arrogant.
“I’m sorry, I just heard about my father’s death… ” Zhang Muran’s face turned red and he lowered his head slightly.
"I don't care if your dad dies. It's bad luck! Bad luck!"
"And you, a wild bald donkey..." Yuan Yu said bad luck twice, but before he finished speaking, he saw a pair of straw sandals with fine dust on the soles, which instantly enlarged in his sight.
Bang! Wang Chen kicked Yuan Yu hard on the face.
The kick was as fast as lightning.
Yuan Yu's three-dimensional facial features flattened instantly where they were touched by the sole, and then, like the surface of a lake with waves, they shook violently, and blood flowed out of his nose and mouth.
His eyes went dark, as if he had been hit hard by a savage beast, and he flew forward headfirst.
The ping-pong sounds continued, breaking three wine tables in a row, leaving a mess of broken wood and porcelain on the ground.
There was an exclamation from the audience at first, and then there was silence.
Including Zhang Muran, everyone stared at Wang Chen with wide eyes as if he had done something insignificant.
"I didn't expect that he would dare to do it... No, he would kick me."
“What a hard kick.”
"In Tucheng, beat up the Tucheng law enforcement cultivators!"
"Are you trying to turn the tables?!"
The diners could not believe what they saw and were inexplicably terrified.
"Bold! "
Two law enforcement practitioners at the eighth level of Qi Condensation shouted angrily almost at the same time.
Before becoming Tucheng law enforcement practitioners, both of them were practitioners who had traveled far and wide and had extensive practical experience.
While shouting angrily, two flying swords with cold light were unsheathed and slashed towards Wang Chen.
The sword tip passed through the scabbard, the flying sword rang softly, and the sword light was sharp.
The flying swords distributed by Tucheng were of excellent quality and felt great in hand. Whenever the two of them drew their swords, they would always have the illusion of being fearless, and even their eyes would instantly become murderous.
However, in an instant, the two people's cold eyes suddenly turned into surprise.
In the field of vision, two hands stretched out at the same time, seemingly very slowly, but in fact they reached out very quickly. Before the two of them could make any reaction, a gentle true force instantly cut off their connection with the flying swords in their hands.
When he looked at the situation more clearly, he saw that the two fine flying swords equipped by Tucheng were actually in the hands of the monk.
Wang Chen's expression was cold. He held the two flying swords in reverse and thrust them downwards suddenly.
rub!
The flying sword penetrated into the hard bluestone of the earthen city to a depth of more than one foot.
The screams sounded like the howling of ghosts and wolves.
The two swords pierced through the insteps of the feet, penetrated the soles of the feet, and nailed the two men to the ground.
"Is it forbidden for you to scream in Tucheng today?" Wang Chen said coldly.
Human feelings are often like physical pain. It’s not that they are not specific to the occasion, but that they are simply uncontrollable.
But for some people, perhaps only the most direct way can teach them to talk while standing without back pain.
