Chapter 42 A Painting

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  "It's still quite lively in the city center, and coincidentally, it was here, strange."

  Walking on the street, muttering to himself, Guo Zhengyang indeed had not only expectations and longing for this encounter, but also doubts. Three days after killing his target, the opportunity finally arose, a bit later than expected, but surprisingly it was in the downtown area of Qingyuan City, in broad daylight on a bustling street.

  What kind of place can appear by chance? An hour ago, he was in class when he suddenly felt the fluctuation of his mind and ran out. The more he walked, the more he felt like leaving the county town. Guo Zhengyang took a taxi and didn't say where he was going, just kept pointing to the road for the driver, and just now, when they passed a certain intersection, his intuition indicated that the target had been reached.

  This location...

  Some meaning.

  Following his intuition, Guo Zhengyang continued walking for dozens of meters before suddenly stopping in his tracks, and then a very strange expression appeared in his eyes.

  Arrived.

  The destination guided by intuition has arrived, but this place is actually next to a trash can at an intersection?

  Looking at the trash can in front of him, then looking at the pedestrians waiting for the red light on either side, or the flowing traffic on the road, Guo Zhengyang's strange expression grew even more intense.

  No matter how he thought before, he never expected that the final destination would be next to a trash can in Qingyuan City.

  This intersection...

  He looked around left and right again, and it wasn't until then that he noticed a conspicuous building sign in the distance - Antique City.

  "The first time, it was as if it fell from the sky, perhaps a monk was fighting and broke the storage ring, causing its contents to fall directly in front of Yang Lulu. The second time, it was on the side of the road, buried in the mud for who knows how long, possibly dropped by that bandit while he was fleeing and lost his footing, falling into the ditch just as someone happened to pick it up. And this time...this time, it was next to a trash can on the street?"

  After glancing around awkwardly, Guo Zhengyang finally pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one up, and began to wait quietly.

  If the opportunity has arrived and the heavenly mechanism that makes the goal possible has appeared, then his mind will directly lock onto that opportunity. Now that thought hasn't given him any hints, it means the opportunity hasn't appeared yet, so he can only wait.

  Quietly waiting, Guo Zhengyang hadn't even finished one cigarette, the red light on the street turned green, and many pedestrians also set off towards the opposite side of the road.

  "Grass, a few bucks, damn it, not even worth the bus fare, too damn cheap. I'd rather throw it away than sell it to you scoundrels." Just then, a figure suddenly ran out from the direction of the antique city, muttering curses, and ran to the side of the road, crumpling up a rolled-up paper into a ball and throwing it into the trash can, before quickly taking advantage of the red light to hurry across the street.

  However, because he ran so hastily, the crumpled paper didn't land accurately in the trash can, but instead fell to the ground with a "poof" sound. The paper ball started rolling away with the spring breeze, but just as it had rolled out half a meter, Guo Zhengyang, who was waiting in ambush, suddenly stepped forward, bent down and picked up the paper ball.

  Then, Guo Zhengyang looked at the back of the young man who had already walked to the middle of the road, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and helplessness.

  Is this his third chance? A crumpled up piece of paper that's been discarded by someone?

  No, accurately speaking, this should be a painting.

  Only after Guo Zhengyang retracted his gaze and smoothed out the crumpled paper did he discover that it was a figure painting on rice paper.

  The painting has a somewhat old color tone, and it seems to have some age. It's about half a meter long and over 20 centimeters wide. Against a clean background, there is an ancient man standing with his hands behind his back. This painting doesn't seem like something good either. At least even Guo Zhengyang, who has no artistic foundation at all, can tell that this painting is very ordinary.

  Then nothing...

  Is this heavenly machinery? Good stuff?

  Although the intention has been expressed in saying that this is a good thing, looking at the painting in his hand, Guo Zhengyang suddenly widened his eyes, and in his widened eyes, he even saw that the painting was slightly damaged, with signs of being torn at the edges.

  Although the torn marks were not big, they were indeed rotten. After Guo Zhengyang tried a little, he found that this was just ordinary paper, which could be easily torn apart with a slight tear.

  "Is that all there is?"

  He widened his eyes, and Guo Zhengyang carefully smoothed out the strokes. Although he couldn't eliminate all the wrinkles on the painting, no matter how much he stretched it, the paper still looked crumpled. The content of the painting was nothing special, just a scene of an ancient man standing with his hands behind his back looking up at the sky.

  And at this moment, the idea in his mind has disappeared, which means he has already obtained the opportunity.

  He spat out the cigarette butt in his mouth, and Guo Zhengyang held the painting with both hands on either side of the scroll, stretching it out in front of him to examine it carefully. At first, it was an ordinary painting, but he looked at it more and more intently, becoming more and more absorbed in it.

  Just as he was watching, Guo Zhengyang suddenly turned pale and spat out a mouthful of hot blood.

  Following him, he suddenly stretched out his hand and closed the painting scroll, taking a deep breath.

  "Ah~"

  At the same time, a shrill cry suddenly came from one or two passersby. When Guo Zhengyang turned around abruptly to look, he had just twisted his body and hadn't seen clearly what the person who cried out looked like, when his body bent again, and another mouthful of hot blood spurted out.

  "What's wrong with you?"

  "Ah~"

  ……

  The passerby who was staring at the scene almost got splattered with blood, and after hastily dodging, let out a scream. Meanwhile, someone nearby also opened their mouth to ask in surprise.

  "It's okay, thank you."

  Guo Zhengyang patted his chest and stood up straight, waving his hand at the kind-hearted person, then turned around and left.

  However, in his eyes, there was a strong sense of horror, an extremely powerful sword aura!

  This painting is actually filled with a fierce and overbearing murderous sword aura, the people on the painting scroll, every stroke, if an ordinary person were to look at it, would probably just think that the lines are strong and powerful, with a fierce brushwork, but only a master who truly understands would discover that every single line is filled with extremely fierce and murderous sword aura! That atmosphere is like flying swords swirling and dancing, tearing through the sky and piercing through everything.

  It was that sword energy, Guo Zhengyang watched and watched before being invaded by the sword energy, almost being torn apart by the sword energy.

  He spat out two mouthfuls of blood, which was a great fortune, because he had just started watching and had just discovered the profound meaning in the strokes and lines when the sword energy rebounded. If he really looked deeper, Guo Zhengyang could be sure that he would be killed by the sword energy contained in this painting!

  But, but the problem is that this is just ordinary paper, a very ordinary sheet of paper, so ordinary that any child can tear it apart with a slight pull, and yet such a strong sword aura can be depicted on such an ordinary piece of paper?

  This is simply unbelievable!

  If the profound sword energy that can directly kill him is embroidered on such ordinary paper, it's much more difficult than using paper to make a scabbard to hold a sharp treasure sword.

  Is this painting a treasure?

  Guo Zhengyang couldn't be certain for the time being, but he was absolutely sure that the person who painted this painting was an unimaginably powerful expert. Such an inconceivable thing, even if his previous life was a real person, he didn't have the ability to paint a sword with sharp and fierce killing intent on a ordinary piece of paper.

  How much control is needed to fill a sheet of paper with enough killing intent to be lethal, without harming the paper itself?