----

The wine is warmed on the red mud stove, and the smell of wine and heat are circling in the Yangxin Hall.

Zhao Wujiang sat at the table, filled with bottles and jars, including small white jade bottles, black clay pots, and celadon bottles. The bottles and jars are different, but the smell inside has been ground.

Powdered medicinal materials.

He held the silver needle and kept staining various medicine powders, looking extremely serious.

Xuanyuan Jing sat opposite, holding ancient books and constantly flipping through them, absent-minded.

Zhao Wujiang was concerned and asked repeatedly last night. Xuanyuan Jing did not tell the truth, but said in desperation that he had Kui Shui, which made Zhao Wujiang give up.

However, the worries in her heart not only did not decrease, but instead increased. She didn't know how to tell Zhao Wujiang the truth she got.

Zhao Wujiang observed the subtle changes in the powder on the silver needle. He glanced at Xuanyuan Jing without any trace and said lightly:

“Drink more hot water.”

Xuanyuan Jing gave Zhao Wujiang a blank look. Since she used Kui Water as an excuse, Zhao Wujiang has told her many times to drink more hot water.

Seeing that Xuanyuan Jing did not answer, Zhao Wujiang continued to fiddle with these bottles and jars.

He is developing a poison.

To be precise, it is a poison group.

For example, persimmons and crabs cannot be eaten together, as people will feel uncomfortable after eating them. This is a kind of "combination poison".

For example, carp and licorice, chicken and celery, beef and chestnuts, cucumber and peanuts, etc.

Zhao Wujiang wanted to increase his chances of winning against Xuanyuan Yuheng by forming poisons.

His cultivation level has reached the first level of the Grandmaster, but according to the news conveyed by Jiang Mengli's letter, Xuanyuan Yuheng is at least the seventh level of the Grandmaster. The difference between the two's cultivation level is difficult to narrow for a while, so he can only pass

Other means to increase your chances of winning.

For example, Zhao Wujiang's medical skills, Zhao Wujiang's sword, and Zhao Wujiang's indestructible magic skills.

The bottles and jars were bumped and covered with sugar berries, and the outside of the hall became more and more gloomy and dark. Zhao Wujiang sometimes poured himself a cup of hot wine and drank it with a sip, sometimes frowned and fell into deep thought.

Xuanyuan Jing sat upright in his sitting posture, holding the ancient books in his hand, but his eyes were still on Zhao Wujiang, and he didn't know what he was thinking.

There are three or four kinds of thoughts in a room.

Outside the hall, lead clouds are stacked in the sky. I don’t know if it will snow or rain.

The cold wind is cold, and the clothes are waving.

Except for the Long Yin Guard who has not returned from the vast rivers and lakes, there are a total of twenty-nine Long Yin Guards in Kyoto, and twenty-two people in the imperial city.

Outside the south gate of Kyoto.

The old farmer selling fruits and melons started selling candied haws, but was still smoking dry tobacco.

The two carriages stopped, and the drivers were all old men in purple and blue robes.

From a carriage ahead, a gentle middle-aged man walked down, wearing a snow-white sable fur, wearing a white jade crown, with a beautiful and beautiful jade, and a sacred and beautiful Yuezhi.

The middle-aged man picked up a string of candied haws, his voice was gentle, and he smiled:

"A San, is this string of candied haws, the position of a minister of the Ministry of War, enough?"

The old farmer called A 3 rolled up the tobacco leaves, stuffed them into the mouth of the cigarette pole, took a deep breath, swallowed the clouds and blew the mist, and then said in a deep voice:

“Not selling.”

It’s not that it’s not enough, it’s not selling.

"I also have the blood of the Daxia royal family, why not sell it to me?" The elegant middle-aged man sighed, and the softness of his eyebrows and eyes gradually disappeared and turned into sharpness.

----

"Okay." Zhao Wujiang stretched and the poison was ready.

He drank a glass of warm wine. Perhaps because he sat for a long time, his hands and feet felt uncomfortable. He stood up and walked slowly to open the door. The fresh and cold wind blew.

Zhao Wujiang spread his palms, and the lines in his palms were like mountains and rivers. A snowflake swayed and floated in his palms, turning into blood in an instant.

He smiled, was stunned, and sighed:

"Green ant fresh wine, red mud stove.

It’s snowing in the evening, can you drink a cup of wine?”

Xuanyuan Jing held the ancient book in his hand, and looked at Zhao Wujiang with some confusion. He found that Zhao Wujiang had turned around and looked at him. The two of them looked at each other, and her Mid-Autumn Water trembled slightly.

"Xuanyuan Jing..."
Chapter completed!