The Beautiful Boss's Personal Bodyguard
Chapter 551 - 550

Chapter 551: 550

Plunging straight into the ground, boring out a large hole, although ferocious, the three people in the field faced no danger at all; no killing aura dared to graze their bodies. The little monk’s shoulder still bore Ye Tian’s arm, while his other arm was enveloped in purple aura, like a coiled dragon against the mountain wall.

The Bodhi fruit in the palm of the opponent shone even brighter with blade light, and his facial expression was no longer as relaxed as before. Although still relatively calm, his words no longer held that air of composure and leisure, "I heard that some predecessors claimed that the Panchen Finger was created by the ancestors of Buddhism, comprising three styles, but due to the extremely high requirements it places on cultivators, very few practice it. Over time, the most challenging third finger was actually lost along with the cultivation technique. It is said the Panchen Three Fingers can open the fortunes of heaven and earth, but seeing it today, it seems somewhat exaggerated."

Ye Tian’s right arm bound with a purple aura dragon looked full of vitality, but he himself was pale, listless, his drooping head as though the heaviest burden on his neck, wishing he could remove it to make himself lighter.

"How formidable exactly the third style of Panchen Finger is, whether it can open the fortunes of heaven and earth, I really am not sure, but it seems to be more than enough to deal with you," he stated.

Bodhi fruit furrowed his brows, "Presumptuous!"

The blade light in his palm suddenly expanded a hundredfold, leaving only one giant blade between heaven and earth. As this enormous blade swooped down overhead, Ye Tian whispered into the little monk’s ear, "Hold me up."

The little monk nodded firmly, but right after nodding, he immediately understood what Ye Tian meant by "hold me up," as almost instantly, millions of pounds of weight pressed down on his shoulders, forcing his knees to nearly buckle.

A mouthful of blood surged to the little monk’s chest, but he held it in his mouth, not spitting it out. The old monk had once told him about the principle of retaining one’s essence blood and breath – no matter what, one must not spit out blood; otherwise, breaking this breath would put his life in extreme danger.

Using the little monk’s shoulder as support, Ye Tian circulated energy in his right arm, a purple energy dragon vein ascending toward the sky, howling through the heavens, and directly charged at the massive descending blade light. As the two collided, from the blade’s tip onward, the blade light started to crack inch by inch, a dense web of cracks spreading across the entire blade light. Bodhi fruit slightly frowned and decisively withdrew the spiritual power that he had left in the blade light. With a light tip of his toes, he retreated fifty steps, and in the moment he landed, the blade light hanging in mid-air shattered.

The purple dragon, carrying the wind and lightning, shot straight towards Bodhi fruit, who was pinned down by a far stronger killing aura. "Could it be that the path I pursued was ultimately wrong?" he questioned.

As he fell to the ground with a thunderous crash, millions of blade lights accompanied by the purple dragon qi smashed down, and numerous large and small ravines cracked open on this not-so-large piece of land, like the parched earth’s cracked soil, except for the one person kneeling in the middle who was the exception.

It was still that warm face, still that calm smile, only at the corner of his mouth, there seemed to be a touch more unwillingness, ultimately not as pleasant as before. A gust of wind blew by, and that person turned into white dust, scattering in the wind.

Ye Tian let out a sigh of relief; after all, he could continue to live. The little monk beside him, however, was talkative and uttered an "Amitabha," to which Ye Tian gave him a glare. Just as he was about to call out the little monk’s prattle, the arm resting on his shoulder slipped down powerlessly.

The Great Zen Master shook his head, "The blue is extracted from the indigo, and now there will be no more Sora Aoi magazines to read."

It was not known when, but the old monk named Ku Rong had already stood behind the Great Zen Master, "Great Zen Master, I will take this person away. Thank you for your trouble these days."

"Hmph, take him away quickly, lest he disturbs my cultivation."

In the last glance around the area, the Great Zen Master turned to Ku Rong and said, "Your apprentice isn’t bad, must be the reincarnation of some Bodhisattva, right?"

...

The outside world always seems dreamily somber, neither black nor white, indistinct, neither bright nor dark, undefined. Yet, the floating scents around here are genuinely pleasant—the ethereal aroma of orchids drifts by just under the nose. Inhaling deeply can reach the Heavenly Court directly, instantly refreshing both spirit and energy. And that sound, it seems to have been heard somewhere before, includes the resonance of metal and muffled thuds, as if really heard somewhere.

Suddenly, a "clang" rang out, startling Ye Tian awake from his sleep—that was... the sound of a bell. Yes, that’s right, it seems to be the bell from a temple.

A beam of light entered his eyes, and gradually, a yellow-orange brightness appeared before Ye Tian. They were blocks of partitions, albeit with some double images. Closing his eyes, he rolled his eyeballs and opened them again, only to see a face.

Braids?

"Hehe, you’re awake!"

The voice was as delightful as the sound of spring water trickling.

"Little baldy, he’s awake, hurry and tell my dad."

Ye Tian instinctively moved his limbs, a habit developed in the military. One shouldn’t move recklessly after a major injury; first attempt to check for injuries, rash movements could cause greater damage.

Indeed, apart from his right hand, there was hardly a spot that wasn’t in agony. Ye Tian felt slightly relieved—that’s good, at least he still felt pain.

Those who have been injured know, especially those who have had falls and bumps, that one shouldn’t fear pain or itchiness, but rather the absence of any sensation, for that would mean real trouble—at the very least, it would mean being paralyzed and vegetative, with paralysis being the only option remaining.

"Don’t worry, you won’t die. You should be grateful my dad brought you back, otherwise, you’d be done for. Hey, what’s your name?"

The girl with braids sat by the bedside, looking at Ye Tian with her eyes blinking, a face full of innocence and purity. Ye Tian took a look at her, about to speak, but his throat was extremely dry, unable to utter a word. After coughing twice, the girl with braids reacted, "Do you want some water?"

Unable to speak, Ye Tian could only blink. The girl got up to fetch water, and Ye Tian took the chance to carefully observe his surroundings, limited by the range of movement of his neck, he could only see above and to the sides.

This was a simple bamboo bed, likely a bedroom for one person. The room was very rustic, with a triangular wooden table and several triangular wisteria vine stools carrying an ancient charm, and the carved bed drapes made of sandalwood, exquisitely crafted. The incense burner on the table was wafting with sandalwood fragrance, which was faint and refreshing. No wonder he smelled that fragrance in his sleep—it was the scent of sandalwood. Familiar sounds continued to reach his ears, indeed, they were from a bronze bell, most likely this place was a Buddhist temple.