In the center of the house, there is a specially vacated space.
There is a scholar in blue shirt walking around with his eyes closed.
Five-style boxing pile.
The fists in the sleeves move like clouds and flowing water, combining hardness and softness.
With his eyes closed, Zhao Rong felt that his current state was very strange.
It was as if his consciousness had escaped, and he looked down at him walking on the ground in mid-air, as if he was in a dream.
Moreover, Zhao Rong felt it clearly.
It's not that the fist moves with him, but that he moves with the fist.
Everything is done by anyone.
After walking around tens of millions of times, walking around seems to have become Zhao Rong's instinct.
In the words of his previous life, he had become so proficient that this boxing technique was deeply rooted in his bones.
Just like his calligraphy, there is no need to deliberately put down the pen on the paper. The horizontal strokes, vertical strokes, pressing and turning, etc. are natural and appear on the paper.
And Zhao Rong remembered it deeply.
Half a year ago, on the way north, beside a fire under the green mountains on a moonlit night, Liu Sanbian told him softly that this was called fisting.
This is the realm that countless warriors under the mountain dream of.
At that time, a sinister and gentle smile appeared on Liu Sanbian's lips.
If Brother Zhao can move forward and use his fists, then he has the talent of a top-notch martial artist. When that happens, I will give him another set of boxing techniques.
But as he spoke, his smile gradually faded away.
Probably, I think 80% of the time I can’t wait for this day.
Zhao Rong, who was walking around with his eyes closed, pursed his lips and was about to change his mind...
Just the next second.
He stabbed the sword furnace suddenly.
The room suddenly went dark, filled with a dead night, with no light and only a pair of determined eyes as bright as stars.
It turned out that it was Zhao Rong who had just pointed out the candle in the distance and extinguished the candle on the table in the distance.
The fist moved naturally, half a beat faster than his thoughts.
Zhao Rong suddenly took a breath of cold air.
In addition to Leng Shen's miraculous fist movement that circulates throughout his body, and the last moment of his stance that just broke through the sixth extraordinary meridian and eight meridians, the 'Chong Mai'.
It was also because at this moment he was covered in sweat and his clothes were soaked through.
And it happened to be the short period of weakness of the fire dragon in the body after the success of the Chongmai. The body was also very weak. In this late autumn night, the cool breeze hit the body, this feeling...
However, Zhao Rong still couldn't help but curl up the corners of his mouth.
Finally, another lineage was broken, and we were closer to Fuyao Realm.
He jumped on the spot twice to stretch his muscles, then lit the lamp again, and then went to the tub to get hot water for a bath.
About half an hour passed.
After cleaning up, Zhao Rong put on the autumn clothes that Qingjun had washed for him and walked towards the desk, preparing to light a lamp and read at night.
He rolled his eyelids, breathed a sigh of relief, passed the bed in the room, and after taking a few steps, he paused slightly.
Zhao Rong stood quietly for a moment and thought about it.
The next second, he shook his head and walked towards the bed, giving up the idea of continuing to read at night.
Like Qingjun said, it's time to rest.
Zhao Rong fell face down on the quilt that had been dried and spread by Zhao Lingfei herself.
It seems to have the aura of her and sunshine.
Someone took a few deep sniffs.
"Qingjun... Qingjun... Xiaoxiao..."
Zhao Rong muttered and his eyelids gradually drooped.
Night, quiet.
…
Zhao Rong had a dream.
Still a lucid dream.
He was conscious and remembered everything before the dream.
Zhao Rong looked around.
Surprised.
This dream is not colorful, but it can be said to be bizarre.
Because everything around me is only black and white.
within sight.
Except for the dark lines of ink and brush that outline the scenery, objects, and people, everything else is pure white, like a brand new piece of white paper.
Zhao Rong's thoughts changed.
Isn't this just a landscape painting?
Zhuiwen zhuiW戅. Well, in other words, he is now in a small dream world like a landscape painting.
There are only two contrasting and extremely simple elements.
And there is something special about black and white.
The thickness and lightness of ink.
The lightness and depth of white space.
Deeper dimensions are formed, such as perspective, such as size, such as... movement and stillness.
Zhao Rong laughed.
It’s interesting. It actually follows the composition of landscape and ink painting. This dream is interesting.
At this moment, he looked down at his body.
Xixi. Zhuiwen Novel Network zhuiwen.org Xixi. Palms, arms, belly, legs, etc., everything is made of ink.
Without exception, Zhao Rong at this time is also an element that constitutes this strange landscape and ink world.
Just like the little people painted by the burly artist teacher when he was in the art class.
Zhao Rong immediately wanted to find a mirror to see what he looked like now.
However, it soon became apparent that even the lake was a blank space in a landscape painting, and how could he show his appearance.
Zhao Rong was still a little curious. After coughing twice, he started touching it.
Fortunately, everything that should be there seems to be there, but it seems a little smaller.
Well, it was touching my own face.
The nose, eyes, and mouth have all become smaller.
Zhao Rong studied for a while and suddenly realized that he seemed to have returned to the child he was when he was eight or nine years old.
I said why it has become smaller...
At the same time, because of the landscape and ink painting.
Touch, vision, taste, smell, etc. seem to have been redefined, and it is a different experience and taste.
Zhao Rong studied it for a while and stopped caring about these miscellaneous things.
Finally had an interesting lucid dream, come and go, forget about it, it's over.
He curiously explored this strange dream world.
Zhao Rong likes lucid dreaming very much, because based on his past experience, he can really do whatever he wants in a dream.
At this moment, Zhao Rong looked around.
Found him by a stream.
There is no sun in the sky, and I don’t know where the light comes from, making the entire world of landscape and ink painting clear.
The wild geese flying south in the distant sky are like two strokes on paper, waving their wings.
The current location should be in the suburbs.
Because Zhao Rong is surrounded by lush dark-colored forests, which move automatically in the wind.
Occasionally, some small animals made of ink would appear and disappear again.
A vibrant atmosphere, although it is only black and white.
Zhao Rong thought for a moment and opened the palm of his right hand. The next second, a writing brush suddenly appeared out of thin air in his hand.
He smiled softly, and it was indeed possible.
It's just that some rules still need to be explored slowly.
Zhao Rong grabbed the brush and lightly drew an orchid boat, which landed straight on the stream and splashed with ink water.
He boarded the orchid boat, propped up the long pole, and rowed across the water.
Follow the water and explore this dreamland.
As far as Zhao Rong knows, dreams are a kind of satisfaction of objective wishes and a reflection of subconscious content... Well, in human terms, you can have whatever you want, especially the things and people you always think about in your daily life.
Of course, there are some deeper mysteries.
Zhao Rong looked around.
So, let’s talk about whether Qingjun and Xiaoxiao are in the dream... Ahem, here comes the husband who can do whatever he wants.
He rode the orchid boat for a long time.
The surrounding scenery is still wilderness-like.
There are fragrant grasses and trees, and colorful fallen flowers.
Just when Zhao Rong was thinking about whether he should outline a flying sword again and whether he could fly with the sword.
The stream just reaches the corner rapids.
Lan Zhou passed this corner safely
The vision suddenly opens up.
In front of Zhao Rong's eyes, the land was flat and broad, with houses arranged very neatly, fields, ponds, and fruit trees.
Field roads extend in all directions, and villagers come and go in the fields, cultivating and working.
There are old people sitting and resting quietly while leaning on crutches, while there are also children playing and running around.
This is a scene of dark willows and bright flowers.
It's like a peaceful pastoral scene in a peach blossom garden.
Zhao Rong was slightly confused.
These were scenes that he had never seen before and had fantasized about, so why did they still appear in his dream.
Zhao Rong blinked.
Could it be that in the subconscious, there is still a noble sentiment of retreating to the countryside and being indifferent to fame and wealth?
Why doesn't he know?
But even if you think about going into seclusion, you should still dream about Zhongnan Kingdom, um, another eighteen-room beautiful concubine...
What are these strange scenery?
When the boat reached the shore, Zhao Rong got off the boat and walked into the countryside.
As expected, the villagers in these villages were all doing their own things and ignored him.
As if Zhao Rong did not exist, there was no reaction at all.
He observed a circle of these villagers drawn with ink.
The specific appearance and expression cannot be clearly seen. Only facial features and expressions can be roughly seen through the facial lines outlined by these inks.
Zhao Rong touched his face.
Presumably he should be like this too.
Zhao Rong sighed softly, and his handsome face was hidden again.
He looked at this strange village for a while, with a radius of dozens of miles, and it seemed that this place was the only one inhabited.
There is something strange about this dream.
At this moment.
Zhao Rong's eyes suddenly paused and stopped on a certain building in the center of the village.
It was a building that was completely different from the simple houses in the village.
He felt that it should appear more in Confucian academies, the Imperial Academy at the foot of the mountain, or in the private schools of wealthy and scholarly families.
Because this is a neat and square school.
Rigorous, solemn, elegant and generous.
It doesn’t match the pastoral style of the surrounding peach blossom garden.
But it just showed up.
Zhao Rong observed closely with great interest.
On the road, sometimes some villagers he accidentally met would leave numbly, as if they had not seen Zhao Rong and nothing had happened.
Not long after.
Zhao Rong walked around this strange school.
He couldn't help but smile.
This school, which looks tall, solid, and rigidly made of wooden boards, does not even have a door for entry and exit.
Only a small window was opened on the west side.
Zhao Rong went to the west window and looked inside.
The school was bright and clear, and an old master was teaching a group of children.
The old master couldn't see his specific face clearly, but he could see that he was tall and thin, with his hands behind his back and a ruler in his hand, and he was patrolling the school. He looked serious.
It reminded Zhao Rong of Mr. Fang who hit him with a stick when he was a child.
As for these children, they are all about eight or nine years old, about twenty of them.
It looks like classes are taking place in the school.
The tall and thin old man was writing on the podium.
The children below seemed to be listening attentively.
Just like the villagers in the village outside, they were all doing their jobs and turning a deaf ear to a certain head popping out of the window.
Zhao Rong observed it for a while. Apart from the fact that the school did not match the style of the village and the building had no doors, there seemed to be nothing weird about it.
He wandered around in front of the window and no one paid attention to him.
Zhao Rong looked around, with nothing to do, and carefully observed the children in the school who were about the same age as him at this time.
But after looking around, there was no Qingjun or little shadow. Xixi Dingdianxsw.com Xixi
He remembered what Qingjun looked like when he was a child. As for Xiaoxiao...well, he should still be a fluffy little firefox, jumping around Qiantang Mountain.
So, what kind of weird dream is this?
Just do whatever you say you want.
Zhao Rong curled his lips and glanced inside the school again.
These twenty-one children were wearing uniform school uniforms.
In fact, twenty of them were little boys, but there was only one little girl, with her hair in hair, but she looked very stereotyped.
The little girl in the corner seems to be a senior in the school, similar to the monitor, and she also has a small ruler in her hand.
She seemed to be following the old master's instructions at the moment, leaving her seat to collect the homework from her classmates.
The little girl in charge is strict and rigid in her behavior.
The same seems to be true for vague expressions.
The little girl in charge delivered her homework to the podium. Her attitude towards the tall and thin old man was respectful, even in Zhao Rong's opinion, she was a little too respectful.
At this time, the tall and thin old master seemed to be giving some instructions.
The little girl in charge stood up straight with her hands behind her back, listening to the admonishment attentively...
Zhao Rong observed outside for a while, feeling a little bored.
He glanced at the little girl in the school who had some familiar behavior patterns.
By the way, I didn’t dream about Qingjun and Xiaoxiao. Instead, I dreamed about that guy Yu Huaijin, right?
Is this her dream? apexxIndIngdIAnxSw.戈
Was Yu Huaijin like this when he was a child?
Well, it seems that he has been so boring and old-fashioned ever since he was a child.
Zhao Rong shook his head.
Since he had nothing to do, he thought for a while, jumped up, and climbed in through the west window.
At this time, in the school, the old master seemed to be giving a lecture.
The children all had their little hands behind their backs and listened carefully.
Zhao Rong walked into the school without attracting anyone's attention or eyes.
Just like those numb villagers.
Zhao Rong took it for granted.
He walked around the school.
Somewhat boring.
At a certain moment, when passing the little girl in the corner.
Zhao Rong raised his eyebrows slightly, thinking of something.
He came to the little girl in the corner who was lowering her head and doing her homework seriously, and smiled softly.
Zhao Rong reached out and pinched her cheek.
This is Yu Huaijin, well, I didn’t bully you casually in the dream.
Zhao Rong curled his lips.
The little girl in the corner suddenly raised her head and looked at him expressionlessly.
Snapped!
Zhao Rong: “…………”
Snapped!
The little girl in charge had a straight face, grabbed the hand that was squeezing her face, raised the ruler, and hit her again.