The wind passed through One Line Sky, making a whimper similar to the howl of a wolf.
In the narrow Canyon passage, the light was swallowed up by the towering rock walls on both sides. Wang Youan was standing in the deepest shadow. The white-washed jailer's uniform was stained with old oil and was inconspicuous in the darkness. But as he stood there, the entire Canyon air flow stopped.
Old Yan's hands are shaking a little. He has seen too many people in Heavenly Prison in his life, and he thinks he has mastered a pair of Fiery Golden Eyes. Fatty Wang's usual pair The appearance of being greedy for money and lustful, and talking nonsense to others and ghosts has long taken root in his heart. But the man in front of him, carrying Extinguished Lantern, with his back as straight as a javelin, made him feel a strangeness seeping out from the seams of his bones.
It's the kind of cold feeling you get after killing thousands of people and soaking in the murderous aura.
Fang Mo jumped from the roof of the car.
The soles of his boots stepped on the gravel ground, making a crisp clicking sound. He did not draw the knife, nor did he mobilize the Sha Qi in his body. It was like two old neighbors meeting by chance at Hutong Entrance, strolling towards the figure blocking the road.
Ten steps away.
Wang Youan raised his eyelids. The small eyes that were always squinted and full of calculations were all turbid gray at the moment, without any emotional fluctuations. The Dead Air Lantern in his hand shook, and there was no Lamp Oil in it, only a piece of Finger Bone that had long since dried up.
"Uncle Wang."
Fang Mo stood still and spoke in a calm tone. There was neither the surprise of meeting again after a long separation nor the displeasure of being blocked. "You came all the way to this place where no one shits, just to catch the wind for your nephew?"
Wang Youan didn't speak. His gaze crossed Fang Mo, fell on the ferocious White Bone War Chariot behind, and then scanned the full load of goods, and finally settled on the pale but calm face of Fang Mo.
"Uncle Wang."
Fang Mo stood still, his hands hanging down naturally, not holding the knife, nor touching Prayer Beads on his wrist. His tone was extremely dull, and there was no hint of joy at seeing each other again after a long separation, nor was there any anger at being blocked. It seemed like he had bumped into an old servant sweeping the house in his own backyard.
"You came all the way here Western Desert Frontier to eat sand just to catch wind for your nephew?"
Wang Youan did not reply immediately.
His eyes crossed Fang Mo's thin shoulders and fell on the hideous Bone Centipede War Chariot. His eyes were on those cars that still exuded Flood Dragon Ominous Aura wandered among the bones, sweeping through the mountains of Western Desert treasures, and finally slowly took them back, settling on the face of Fang Mo that looked pale due to excessive blood loss.
"Jie Feng?"
Wang Youan's voice was extremely hoarse, and his vocal cords seemed to have been severely polished with coarse sandpaper. "Divine Capital Those noble people issued Betting House. The odds are 3 to 1 if I buy your life. If I buy your body, the odds are 10 to 10 that it can be shipped back."
He moved forward half a step, and the soles of his boots scraped a spark on the rock.
"I'm here to pick up the corpse. Living people are too painful, and dead people are valuable. They can also be used to pay off debts."
In the carriage, Old Yan's pupils contracted violently. He was too familiar with this tone. It was clearly the last "circling" of the shady jailers in Heavenly Prison before they slaughtered the fat sheep. Fatty Wang usually pretended to be harmless, but now he tore that disguise to pieces, revealing his mouth full of fangs.
"Oh?"
Fang Mo reached out and brushed off the non-existent layer of loose soil on his clothes, his movements were so gentle and careless, "Uncle Wang How much did you deposit?"
"The entire net worth."
Wang Youan casually threw the broken lantern at his feet. The frame made of bamboo strips fell to pieces on the rock, and the forest-white Finger Bone rolled out, drawing a pale circle on the gray ground, and finally stopped in the middle of the two people.
"Not only did I pledge the coffin, I also borrowed usury. If I can't bring back your head, I won't even be able to eat the bad rice in Heavenly Prison for the rest of my life, let alone Pig Head Meat."
The words fell to the ground, and the air in Canyon completely solidified.
Feng seemed to be afraid of the atmosphere here and took a detour. Although the Four Divine Treasuries in Fang Mo's body has not manifested, the instinct honed on the edge of life and death has begun to give warnings frantically. The person in front of him looks like The bloated and greasy middle-aged fat man has an extremely obscure but extremely dangerous power dormant in his body. That power is cold and sticky, and has the same origin as some ancient Torture Instrument breath deep in the Heavenly Prison.
This is a master. A top master who disguises himself as trash.
"I want to exchange my head for Pig Head Meat."
Fang Mo took a step forward, and there were only five steps left from Wang Youan. For Organ Refining Realm Martial Artist, this distance was just the killing range with a single thought.
"That depends on whether Uncle Wang's set of good teeth can chew through Western Desert's hardest bones."
The two looked at each other.
In Fang Mo's dark eyes, Netherworld Ghost Eye's power surged deep inside. His sight penetrated the skin and looked directly at the blurry mass of Aura. Wang Youan's hands slowly reached back towards his waist. Go, there is a bulging bag there, hiding what he is hiding in the Heavenly Prison - maybe it is a Boning Knife that has been quenched with extremely poison, or maybe it is some kind of insidious Hidden Weapons that specifically targets the Martial Artist meridians.
Fang Mo's fingertips touched the Human Bone Prayer Beads on his wrist. Inside the pearl, Jie Se's remnant soul, which was afraid of the world being in chaos, screamed with excitement, eager for the nourishment of new flesh and blood.
No blood was seen, and the killing intent was at its peak.
Wang Youan is watching.
He was looking at whether this little jailer who he had watched grow up, this young man who had been a little immature under his wings, was really transformed in that Western Desert where people cannibalize people. What he wanted to see was not the realm of cultivation, but the aura. The ruthless aura that could only crawl out of desperation and dare to poke a hole in the sky.
Fang Mo is also watching.
He was watching this old man who usually pretends to be crazy and acting stupid. Is he putting on this big show to test his depth, or is he really going to cut off the eighteen-year relationship for the sake of the incredible wealth?
Time becomes extremely slow at this moment.
Every breath passed was accompanied by several collisions and confrontations between the two Aura. Old Yan held his breath in the back, clutching the Broken-Handled Boning Knife tightly in his hand, and his palms were covered in cold sweat.
Finally.
On Wang Youan's face, which was as tight as a dead pancake, a tiny crack appeared in the suffocating indifference. Then, the crack spread rapidly, and the cold Killing Aura that originally lingered around him dissipated without a trace like an ebbing tide.
"So hard."
Wang Youan sighed, and the hand that originally stretched out to his lower back to fight for his life moved up and scratched the fat belly, making a rustling sound of cloth.
"Since the bones are so hard, I won't chew them. I'm getting older and my teeth are not in good shape. If my teeth fall apart, I have to spend money to repair them. It's not worth it."
He bent down, picked up the piece of Finger Bone, wiped it on his cuff, and stuffed it back into his arms. When he looked up again, there was no trace of gray and coldness in those eyes, which were full of philistineness and shrewdness.
"Will my nephew gain something this time?"
The dim light in Fang Mo's eyes dissipated, and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth that only those who have been in this circle for a long time can understand. He turned around and patted the White Bone War Chariot and Chariot Shaft, which made a dull echo.
"It's a great harvest Uncle Wang. This trip Western Desert, although we almost lost our lives, we still got enough interest from it."