The Memoirs of Cultivating Immortals

Chapter 5 Motel
pat, pat,
The shallow muddy puddle under the bridge hole was crushed by footsteps, Li Ang limped forward while supporting the moss-covered stone wall.

He walked to a dark corner where the street lights couldn't reach, sat down slowly against the wall, gritted his teeth and took off his shirt.

The skin all over his body was flushed red, and the fine blood beads seeping from the capillaries covered a thin layer of scab, and when he stretched out his hand, he could hear the sound of crackling and peeling off.

Li Ang sighed and said, "Let's hide and recuperate first."

Li Ang squinted his eyes and recalled the scene just now. In his spiritual consciousness, the strange man wearing a bat cloak was like a blazing torch, full of frenzied energy ready to go. , I'm afraid that I will be blown away by the opponent's punch before I can form the seal.

"Relying on a physique forged through thousands of years of tempering requires extremely high talent, and even more indestructible perseverance like a rock, and a cold and deep will. Enter the Dao with martial arts, step through the void, and become the mirror of the immortal."

Li Ang seemed to have thought of something, and sighed: "It's a pity that today's spiritual energy has collapsed. Even if you have the outstanding talent to jump over the dragon's gate, you can't get rid of the rut where the water in the pool is getting shallower. In the end, at most, you will only stop at the realm of the master."

He wasn't all sorry for the Batman, but martial arts masters are rare in any era, and the other party's tone is probably quite chivalrous, so he made a few comments.

In the previous life, Li Ang was trapped in the Nascent Soul Realm for a long time and could not break through. He was not a pedantic person who wanted to learn from the ancients and imitate the ancients. Jianghu sects learn martial arts.

After decades of traveling, I have learned swords, guns, swords, halberds, axes, hooks, hand-bound fighting, wrestling, and fighting. I can even play a few odd weapons and hidden weapons and darts.

Li Ang looked at the slightly trembling palms, and muttered to himself: "Now that the aura has collapsed, it may be impossible to accumulate aura by breathing like in the previous life. Why don't you turn to martial arts and see if you can combine the spiritual energy from the previous life?" The technique of cultivation has opened up a broad road."

It is not suitable to stay here for a long time. Whether it is the Batman or the Gotham Police Department, it is not a trouble that I can handle.

Fortunately, when Li Ang attacked the shooter in the warehouse, he took out a few wallets and found about a thousand dollars in cash after a brief inspection, which can last for a few days with some savings.

Li Ang let out a long breath, washed the scabs off his body with the river water, walked on the road after a little less embarrassment, and wrapped himself in broken pieces while passing by the abandoned gasoline drums where homeless people burned garbage for heating. The cloth was thrown in and burned up.

Like all glamorous big cities in the world, Gotham also has dark and dirty corners. For a "black household" like Li Ang, being remote and mixed means safety.

He walked into the downtown area calmly, and found a dilapidated motel following the mottled and rusty neon sign lights.

The owner of the hotel is a bloated middle-aged fat man, slumped on the boss chair behind the glass counter, his eyes narrowed into a slit, and he is still chewing half a Big Mac burger delivered by takeaway.

He glanced at the simple clothes on the Chinese-looking Li Ang, and said in a weak tone: "Please show your ID card."

Li Ang silently took out two 100 face value Franklin from his wallet and patted them on the table, "Is this okay?"

The boss raised his eyebrows, stretched out his fat arm from the small window of the glass counter, took the banknotes away, turned the seat and took a bunch of keys from the shelf behind him, and handed them to Li Ang.

"Your room is the third room on the left on the second floor. Don't make too much noise and play rock music softly—unless you can beat the hooligans in the next room."

The hotel owner yawned, took a piece of paper and wiped off the ketchup sticking to the corner of his mouth, and said, "If you want to resolve your physical needs, there is a phone book for girls in the bedside table. By the way, I would like to advise you to take protective measures. .”

The corners of Li Ang's eyes twitched, not to mention that he has a firm heart and doesn't pay much attention to the relationship between a man and a woman. Even if he really got excited, he would slap these white-skinned women with rough skin, lush hair and strong body odor. Don't do it.

He politely declined the hidden pimp business, and when he walked up the stairs, he had a thought and asked the boss: "By the way, are there newspapers for sale here?"

The innkeeper was staring at a roll of Playboy color magazine in his hand, and said without turning his head: "What age is this, and people still read newspapers? It's not something that rich white men in the uptown would do at morning tea." something?"

Having said that, he still moved his chair, and found a stack of near-new recent newspapers from the cabinet in front of him, with a large line of "Gotham Times" printed on it.

"Tony Stark holds a press conference"

"Mutants Riot at Los Angeles Coliseum"

"Seattle Police Cracked a Situation Case"

These headlines caught Li Ang's eyes instantly, and he said, "I want all the newspapers you have here, old ones are fine."

The innkeeper looked at him suspiciously, and muttered: "What a weirdo", but for Franklin's sake, he honestly found a lot of old newspapers from the cabinet and slapped them on the table.

Even when Li Ang was leaving, the owner of the travel point gave him an unopened girl magazine from last month because he bought a lot of discarded rags. Like a young girl, full of the extravagant atmosphere of capitalist wine pools and meat forests.

"These western countries are really broken, and people's hearts are not old!"

Li Ang sighed and stuffed the colored magazines into the pile of newspapers. While thinking of the singing and dancing in the Qinlou Chu Pavilion in Chang'an City in the Tang Dynasty, Li Ang held the newspaper and sighed softly. He walked up the steps and followed the door number to find the room.

The bedding smelled stale, the carpet with holes burned by cigarettes, the window panes turned yellow inside and outside, and the running water that sometimes didn't work. The exterior of the hotel is the same.

Li Ang sat on the bed indifferently, turned on the bedside lamp, and carefully read the newspapers in the dim light.

After all, whether it is to protect oneself or seek an opportunity to practice Taoism, the first thing to bear the brunt is to quickly collect information in this world.

(End of this chapter)