Chapter 32: Awakening of Destiny

It was an ancient beast as white as silver, with fur and horns, and a knife and a sword on its back.

The knife was like a fierce tiger, and the sword was like a flying phoenix.

Its arms were huge, thick and long, and its green eyes flashed with a cold light of multiple emotions such as transparency, coldness, and enlightenment.

Swallow it! Staring at the phantom of the beast, Ye Yang felt hungry and empty.

Both sides rushed out at the same time, and when they were about to collide, Ye Yang suddenly bent his knees, knelt down and leaned back, and the beast passed over him.

Ye Yang turned over and stretched out his arms, grabbed the beast's long tail, and jumped onto the beast's head with the force.

Ye Yang only saw the appearance of this beast clearly.

Its fangs were exposed, like a white ape, with a single horn on its head and green eyes. The most impressive thing was the arms of this giant beast.

The left and right arms were huge, thick and long, with muscles bulging, like granite, piece by piece, and extremely hard.

The silver-haired beast rolled on the ground, roared, turned its head and bit Ye Yang, but Ye Yang was faster and bit the opponent's thick arms, splitting his arms. A stream of primitive essence poured into Ye Yang's throat, spreading his internal organs, boiling like fire, and filling his body with energy and blood.

The beast kept roaring, jumping, tumbling, and flipping wildly, but the person biting it was crazier than it, no matter how the white ape beast jumped, flipped, or pounced.

Ye Yang always bit its flesh and blood like a beast, like a maggot on the tarsal bone, sucking it hard like a beast.

The primitive and clear essence became more and more, and Ye Yang raised his head and howled, but what came out was a series of roars of beasts.

He was covered with white hair, his arms became thick and hard, and he had infinite strength. Swords grew on his back, claws stretched out from his limbs, and his fur covered his whole body. He bent down, exerted force with his legs, and leaped out high.

In front of us, the distant mountains are undulating, with thousands of mountains and valleys, and the ancient vines are thick and strong. The primitive ancient trees are as thick as houses, reaching straight into the sky and into the clouds.

The ground is covered with shrubs, mottled mosses and lichens. The twisted old trees in this primitive ancient forest are like dragons, covering the sky and the sun, and the knee-deep weeds move with the wind.

He stretched out his arms, as if he had turned into the son of the wind, climbing trees and jumping streams in the primitive forest.

He ran vigorously, climbing over rugged rocks, walking through forest lakes, and running towards the morning glow of the rising sun.

He is a tree, a wind, and a beast.

He is a piece of moss in the forest, and an ant, the darling and master of this vast wilderness!

Running! Winter goes and spring comes, day and night change, he uses his arms as weapons, swords and swords to fight the world, climb and jump, hunt tigers and leopards, fight fiercely, and keep running, forgetting everything in the past.

Until his silvery-white hair was no longer shiny, no longer as bright as white satin under the moonlight, his fur slowly became knotted, dull, and bent.

His blood began to wither, his arms were no longer strong and strong, his eyes gradually became vicissitudes, no longer full of vitality.

…

He was old, entering the twilight years, and was going to die in this forest.

One day, he was really old, his body was no longer agile, he rolled down the slope from the jagged rocks, fell into the stream, and stirred up waves.

He swooped down, the water rippled, the silver moonlight shone on the clear water, the sparkling water cut his old reflection into pieces, flickering and shaking.

He suddenly froze.

He stretched out his hand and crossed the reflection on the water, the reflection was broken, but in a flash, the water waves disappeared, and it returned to its original state, the old and thin reflection was still clear.

Is this me? Ye Yang stared blankly.

Lost memories came like fragments, flickering and gathering.

"In this life, you must be a good person."

"As a cultivator, why should we fear death? We should be loyal to our sect and be righteous."

When he was young, his dead father often taught him words that seemed to be in his ears.

"The dusk red clouds of Feitianmen are worthy of being one of the eight scenic spots of Yalongling."

The dusk red clouds of Feitianmen are in front of us, and the beautiful scenery of the sunset and clouds rolling in the sky seems to be in front of us.

Under the old persimmon tree, the boy who swung his sword against the wind and frost without stopping for a moment.

In the Zhang family's attic, the woman whose name he had forgotten had a nice smell of white socks.

And

His excited heart was about to beat out.

For countless days, regardless of the cold or heat, he bare his shoulders, swung his sword, and experienced the hardships of refining qi.

Scenes, like slides, flashed through his mind.

…

In the hall, Ye Yang gestured with his hands the Fengshuang Sword Technique. After years of practice, the Fengshuang Sword Technique had already become a part of his body.

Some disciples who woke up early saw him waving his swordsmanship, his brows sometimes frowned, sometimes relaxed, and his face full of struggle and pain. They all thought he was possessed and quickly left him a few feet away.

…

"No, it's not me!"

Ye Yang stood up.

"I'm not a beast!"

He shouted at his reflection on the water.

His thick hair retracted into his body, his claws and fangs were retracted, his arms retracted to their normal state, his blue eyes calmed down and turned into black and white pupils, and that firm and familiar face swayed in the water.

"I am Ye Yang!"

In his vision, the water waves rippled in circles, the surrounding scenery disappeared, and he slowly opened his eyes.

The figure of his father, whom he had not dreamed of for more than ten years, appeared in his mind.

Vague memories floated through his mind, and a tear fell from Ye Yang's eyes.

"You are a good soldier and a good man, but you are not a good father to the family."

Ye Yang murmured to himself, tears silently slid from the corners of his eyes, but his father could no longer see.

...

"The awakening of the destiny was successful."

Ye Yang wiped away his tears, looked around, and breathed a sigh of relief. He felt that there was something inexplicable in his body.

He realized that there were few people in the hall, and many people had left.

He looked up and looked out the window, and then he realized that it was dark, and a day had passed.

"The breath is ancient, good at using swords, and it seems that there are undeveloped spiritual eyes. It is... a high-grade yellow grade."

The spirit-testing monk flashed a trace of surprise in his eyes.

"So far, only a few high-quality yellow-grade innate primordial spirits have been awakened, which is considered to be a very good top-grade one."

Ye Yang was slightly excited when he heard the spiritual tester say this.

He knew that he was not a person of talent and intelligence, and he had no support from his family elders. Thanks to his maturity and diligence in practice, he was able to have a slight advantage among his peers.

He was very satisfied that he could awaken a high-quality yellow-grade innate primordial spirit.

The immortal road is difficult. If you want to climb to the top in life, your innate spirit is important or not.

The opportunity, fate, luck, talent, and diligence of the day after tomorrow are all very important.

In this world, there are people who have awakened their innate spirits and stand proudly on the top of the mountain, and there are also cultivators who have not awakened their innate spirits and killed those with high-level innate spirits.