Chapter 62: Spirit Spring Water
The underground godly temple was pitch black, full of humidity, and grim looking; even though, in the far distance, there was a lit Buddhist torch on top of the pagoda, the light couldn’t dissipate this darkness.
No one knew why this godly temple sunk into the ground for the past few thousand years, or why the buddhist torch still was lit; it radiated a divine light, just like the lotus seat’s light, traveling towards all four directions.
The shape of the lotus seat was the same as a human’s footprint.
The two people standing on the lotus seat were Feng Feiyun and Dongfang Jingyue.
The two were originally like fire and water, refusing to stand beside each other, but at this moment, they were leaning on each other like one’s figure and shadow. Even though Feng Feiyun was just a young adult, his stature was not small. With a wide chest and standing at seven feet tall, he was seemingly higher than Dongfang Jingyue by half of a head.
The lotus seat was truly too small as there was not enough space for one person standing on top, let alone two people squeezing together. Dongfang Jingyue was standing in front of Feng Feiyun, but her orientation was that of leaning close to his chest.
Dongfang Jingyue was wearing a white veil. Her emotionless expression seemingly had forgotten about the earlier hatred, but Feng Feiyun knew that if it wasn’t for his understanding of formations and deduction of the arts, he would have been a lost ghost by her hand.
“Feng Feiyun, could it be that all of Feng’s young children have the same understanding of formations just like you?”
Dongfang Jingyue, in the end, couldn’t restrain her curiosity and seriously asked.
Earlier, Feng Feiyun carved the Corpse Refining Formation to suppress the three ancient monk corpses, and now he created a Crossing Lotus Seat Formation to easily escape the Sea of Blood Formation and the Bewildering Grand Formation.
It was her first time seeing these two methods. Even the formations of contemporary masters wouldn’t be as proficient; however, in the hands of Feng Feiyun, it was as if every word he wrote became poetic proses.
If all the children of the Feng Clan were this wonderful, then it would truly be frightening.