Longevity Martial Arts: Obtain Golden Affixes at the Start

Hong Lang drawled out his words, a smile on his face that sent chills down Wu Xiaoxiao's spine: "Good stuff, really good stuff."

Without saying a word, he squatted down and started to pry off the ring.

"What are you doing!"

Wu Xiaoxiao screamed and clenched her fists desperately, but her strength was no match for Hong Lang's. Her ten fingers were pried open one by one, and her rings were taken off one by one.

"You...give it back to me! That's mine! You're stealing!"

Wu Xiaoxiao was so anxious that she shouted and yelled, because all her belongings were in those ten rings.

Hong Lang tucked the ring into his pocket, patted it, and grinned at her: "Little girl, tell me how to use this thing."

Wu Xiaoxiao bit her lip, her eyes fixed on Hong Lang.

"You can't use it. It has my personal mark on it, and the mark won't disappear unless I die."

"A unique mark?"

"It's... it's a mental imprint." Wu Xiaoxiao explained reluctantly, "The storage ring needs mental power to open. After I've bound it to me, the ring only recognizes my mental power fluctuations. If someone else gets it, it's just a pile of scrap metal."

"Oh..." Hong Lang nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "Do you have any that haven't been claimed by a master?"

"……No."

"Really not?"

"Really, no!"

Hong Lang stared at her for two seconds, and Wu Xiaoxiao stiffened her neck to meet his gaze.

Hong Lang didn't say anything, just grunted in response, then bent down and reached out to touch Wu Xiaoxiao's feet.

"What...what are you trying to do now?!"

Hong Lang ignored her, grabbed her left ankle with one hand, and swiftly ripped off her boot with the other.

She reacted as if she'd been scalded, frantically pulling her foot back: "You pervert! Why did you take my shoe off! Are you crazy?!"

Hong Lang pulled off her socks again, completely exposing her small feet.

His feet were extremely small, shorter than the palm of his hand, and his five delicate pink toes were curled up in tension.

Hong Lang gently stroked the sole of her soft foot with his thumb.

Wu Xiaoxiao jerked violently, letting out a short "ah," and then bit her lip tightly.

"Are you ticklish?"

Hong Lang laughed, a laugh that was more terrifying than a demon in Wu Xiaoxiao's eyes.

"I'll ask you one more time, do you have any rings that haven't been claimed by an owner?"

"No...no! Hahaha!"

Hong Lang's fingertips gently tickled the soles of her feet, precisely landing on the most sensitive acupoints.

Wu Xiaoxiao struggled desperately to escape, but her feet were firmly held down by Hong Lang, and she was bound hand and foot, leaving her nowhere to run.

"Hahahaha... Stop! You... Hahaha... I'm going to kill you!"

Hong Lang's technique was very professional, sometimes light and sometimes heavy, making Wu Xiaoxiao feel like she was dying.

"Do you have it?"

"No...haha...nothing!"

"Still being stubborn!" Hong Lang changed his approach, gently scraping the soft flesh in the center of her sole with the tip of his fingernail.

Wu Xiaoxiao's body suddenly arched, her laughter changing tone: "Yes, yes, yes! Stop! There's one!"

Hong Lang stopped.

Wu Xiaoxiao was panting heavily, her whole body trembling. She glared at Hong Lang, feeling both angry and aggrieved.

"You're not human!"

Hong Lang smiled nonchalantly: "Where's that ring that hasn't been claimed by anyone?"

"Inside my left boot!"

Hong Lang reached out and touched the boot that had been taken off. He slipped his fingers inside and found a hard little object on the inside of the boot shaft.

He took it out and saw that it was a silver ring without any decoration.

"How do I use it?"

"By dripping blood onto the ring, it will absorb your blood and establish a spiritual connection. Then you can use your thoughts to open the space inside."

"It's that simple?"

"How difficult do you think it is?" Wu Xiaoxiao said irritably, but as soon as she said it, she remembered her current situation and quickly shut her mouth.

Hong Lang didn't mind, and squeezed a drop of blood from the wound on his shoulder, letting it drip onto the ring.

The blood fell onto the ring and was absorbed silently.

Hong Lang sensed something strange.

His consciousness seemed to have gained an extra tentacle, touching upon an unfamiliar space.

The space wasn't large, about the size of a 16-square-meter room, and it was quite empty.

Hong Lang held the halberd in his ringed hand. With a thought, the halberd disappeared from his hand and appeared in his storage ring.

Great stuff, really great stuff!

With a thought, the halberd appeared out of thin air in his hand from the ring, and with another movement, it disappeared again. He repeated this several times, thoroughly enjoying himself.

Looking at his naive and unsophisticated appearance, Wu Xiaoxiao's lips twitched. She wanted to say something sarcastic, but she swallowed the words back. Her feet were still itching, and she didn't want to suffer that pain again.

"Alright, alright, stop showing off," Wu Xiaoxiao said irritably. "It's just a broken storage ring, is it really that big of a deal?"

Hong Lang then stopped and asked, "Is that bow you're using a treasured weapon?"

He walked over and picked up the black bow from the ground. The moment he touched it, he froze.

The bow was much heavier than he had expected; it looked to be only about three feet long, but weighed no less than a hundred pounds.

Hong Lang gripped the bow, three fingers hooked onto the string, and pulled hard. The string tightened at his fingertips, and the force of the resistance was astonishing; an ordinary person probably couldn't even pull it open half an inch.

But Hong Lang possessed the strength of a dragon and the ferocity of a tiger; how astonishing was his arm strength?

With a slight pull of his wrist, he steadily drew the bowstring to seven-tenths of its full length.

Wu Xiaoxiao saw this and was taken aback.

This bow is named "Dark Moon" and was a gift from her father when she was sixteen.

She was exceptionally gifted from a young age, possessing arm strength far exceeding that of martial artists of the same level. Yet, even so, she was not able to fully draw the bow until she was eighteen years old.

The strange man in the purple robe in front of me casually reached out and drew the bow.

"Not bad, feels good." Hong Lang casually commented.

"……good?!"

She felt deeply insulted and angrily shouted, "What do you mean 'okay'! This is a top-grade weapon! Top-grade! Do you even know what a top-grade weapon means?!"

"What does that mean?" Hong Lang asked.

Wu Xiaoxiao took a deep breath, as if she were giving a country bumpkin a lesson: "Even if the scions of ordinary sects and aristocratic families sold their entire fortunes, they might not be able to afford a low-grade or mid-grade treasure weapon."

High-grade treasure weapons are only possessed by core disciples and elders of prestigious sects.

As for top-grade treasured weapons, those are things even some sect leaders would covet! And you actually said "not bad"?

Hong Lang glanced at Hei Gong again, then at Wu Xiaoxiao, who was bound like a dumpling on the ground.

This little girl is only eighteen years old, yet she throws out top-grade treasures and has storage rings on all ten of her fingers.

Where are you from?

Wu Xiaoxiao remained silent.

Who is your father?

Wu Xiaoxiao bit her lip, turned her face to the other side, and faced away from Hong Lang, clearly indicating that she did not want to answer these questions.