Qi Jingchun, whose appearance was greatly damaged, remained indifferent, and all his attention was always placed on his left hand, which was clenched into a fist.
From the fist to the entire arm, and then to the shoulder, it is covered with Taoist talismans with thunder and lightning, and each word is as big as a house.
The old voice continued to sound, "Don't be stubborn, Qi Jingchun, if you are willing, you can follow the Taoist practice."
Qi Jingchun turned her head slightly and looked down at the arm that was riddled with holes. It was covered with the supreme prophecies written by the Taoist masters and saints.
Qi Jingchun breathed out softly and said in a deep voice: "Qingjing..."
The old voice revealed a hint of anger, "Qi Jingchun, you are brave!"
An angry shout forcefully covered up the two words Qi Jingchun said after "quiet".
High in the sky, two fingers were used as a sword, easily breaking through the sea of ​​clouds and slashing down!
It actually cut off Qi Jingchun's fisted arm from his shoulder!
Far away, there was an imperceptible sigh, full of regret.
Confucian saints do not exceed the rules.
Qi Jingchun should not have crossed the Taoist thunder pond.
After the finger sword successfully cut off Qi Jingchun's arm, it seemed that the owner's anger was still there. He quickly retracted his fingers back to the sea of ​​clouds, and did not stop there. Instead, he stabbed at the tree with no roots and water with no source at a faster speed.
fist.
Qi Jingchun retracted the half of his right arm above his head, quickly blocked it above the bead, and hugged it to himself, protecting it in front of him.
The immortal's two fingers moved forward without any suspense, piercing through Qi Jingchun's arm. The golden giant's punch from the hole hit Qi Jingchun's head firmly.
The statue of Qi Jingchun is on the verge of collapse.
Although his limbs were broken and his arms were broken, his big sleeves were still fluttering, and he looked like a scholar. But the more he was like this, the more miserable he looked.
After being punched in the head again, Qi Jingchun continued to sink.
One punch followed another, and it seemed that they would not stop until the scholar was knocked deep into the ground.
The dilapidated Dharma image, guarding the fist, the bead, and the Lizhu Cave in front of him, the common people who would call him "Mr. Qi" when they met.
The lips of this Dharma image moved slightly, and he recited silently, "The stars are spinning, the sun and the moon are shining brightly, the four eras are in control, the yin and yang are great, the wind and rain are spreading, all things are harmonious to live, and each is nourished to be mature...
"
Within the small cave.
There was not a single Meng boy present in the rural school.
There was a Confucian scholar in blue shirt sitting alone. Not only his temples were frosty white, but his hair was also snow-white.
The scholar's seven orifices were bleeding and his flesh and blood were blurred.
The soul was shattered, more completely than a piece of porcelain thrown to the ground.
The scholar looked extremely happy, closed his eyes and smiled, and then passed away.
The world has me, Qi Jingchun.
The world is happy, and so am I.
This year, in this world, spring left very late and summer came very late.
Chapter completed!