What was the most fantastic flying method?
By airplane? By a hot air balloon? By parachute? By bungee jumping?
Riding a mount? Using wings? By anti-gravity magic? Levitating?
Or by the strangest flying method that almost no one could probably imagine, ‘flying by staying in the stomach of a God’.
"This is really unbelievable!"
Sui Xiong was looking outward from the window. There was a vast clear sky, and
underneath it was a bizarre landscape with clouds and mist. Lei couldn’t
help but take it all in. He was like a curious kid, looking everywhere to remember
by heart this kind of scenery, which ordinary people could never see in
their lifetime.
After a long while, he felt sore in his eyes. He left the window, went back to his
"seat" above, and sat opposite to the dozing Stelle, then asked, "Why don’t you
look excited? Are you familiar with this kind of scene because you usually fly
here and there on normal days?"
Stelle yawned, and dimly said, "How can I fly this high... This thing must be flying above the clouds..."
"Then why don’t you look excited?"
"I didn’t sleep well last night... Don’t disturb me!"
Lei had just figured out-- -- -from the day before yesterday until last night,
Stelle had been tied by the tightening headband, and had been restricted from having
any evil thoughts. However, of course, she couldn’t refrain from those
messy thoughts. Her day basically was "having evil thoughts-- -- having a headache-- -
-behaving properly-- -- having evil thoughts again". When the tightening
headband had been adjusted, she could finally find her peace again.
The reason why she didn’t feel tired at that time was because of the hiking. But
up until this point when she was free, the accumulated fatigue burst in her head;
only ghosts didn’t feel tired!
After thinking this through, he didn’t disturb Stelle anymore, but picked up a book to kill
time by reading.
As a man with a noble background, he had a habit of carrying books along. But in
reality, he rarely read. Over the last couple years, if he didn’t fight or kill someone, he
would be constantly on the move. Even if he had some spare time, he would
spend most of it on practicing to prepare for an upcoming fight in his next
adventure. Yet, the current situation didn’t allow him to practice. Hence, he could
only read books.
This book was made extraordinarily sophisticated. The book was covered by a
tawny goatskin paper (parchment), which was secured with a silver frame that
would prevent the book from deformation. Letters were embedded onto the cover of the book by golden threads. Many tiny gems were used as a decoration for the book, which enhanced its luxurious look.
But to a true knowledgeable person, the author’s signature under the name of the
book was where the genuine value of the book was.
This book was transcribed by a legendary shaman-- -- of course, when he
transcribed this book, he was still a young scholar and hadn’t truly stepped into the
mystic magic palace.
The main surface didn’t have papermaking technique, so most of the materials used for
making books were goatskin paper. Each paper relatively equaled the same
consumption of goatskin and with the manpower, whose value might be higher than the goatskin itself. This made books super pricey. Ordinary people did not
easily get the chance to see this kind of book in their lifetime.
Except for goatskin, cloth was not a bad material to write on. But it was not
suitable for making books. It was normally used to make different kinds of notices for
announcements or rewards.
Writing on paper was a job that required technique. Except for using magic to
invent, one could rely on a scholar’s handwriting. The writing that was made
by the magic was neat and tidy, but it lacked the beauty of art. Therefore, the work
that was written with this method had no other value than a book. Some strict
collectors only admitted the work with a handwritten book. They looked down on
those books that were written by magic.
And the one in Lei’s hand was just a normal history book. Its content wasn’t
special either. But its writing style could be counted as the representative of
art. Not to mention, the author’s identity added to its value, which was
enough to be ranked as "treasure".
At the beginning, when Lei left his house alone, except for the sword, this book was
considered precious to him. During his years of wandering about in a desperate plight, in
the most down and outof times, he never even thought of selling this book.
If the sword was his friend, then this book would be like his spiritual solace. As
long as he saw this book, he would recall his calm, tranquil life and did not feel
that his youth was just a dream.
Even though he rarely read books.
The bright sunlight shone into the transparent window. Lei silently sat in the front
seat, seriously browsing through each page, carefully chewing over the hair-raising
history hidden underneath each verse of the poem. Sometimes, he was a poet
who sculpted words and sentences, exclaiming in admiration. If one didn’t know
his identity and saw his appearance right now, he would think this was a scholar full of exquisite noble mannerisms.
This scene caught Stelle’s eyes after she woke up.
Lei’s face was actually pretty nice-looking. The "plastic surgery" that Sui Xiong had
done on him was absolutely not a reckless work. He had based Lei’s face on the art
principle of fine sculpting to recreate his face almost perfectly, except for some
overly manipulated features that went beyond normal conception. Day after day, those
inharmonious features slowly disappeared and were replaced with ones
of human emotions. From this moment onward, he could be counted as one of the most
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