Every breath he takes is like a drowning person having sea water pouring into his mouth and nose, desperately searching for a wisp of air.
His face was expressionless, and his eyes were narrowed hard, just to hide the murderous intent in his eyes!
However, the trembling fist he held in front of his abdomen, grabbing the rosary and holding it tightly, betrayed his emotions.
Qingjingzi tilted his head slightly to the left and right, and found that everywhere he looked, everyone was watching him, waiting for his answer, just like the young Confucian scholar he wanted to skin Lingchi.
He even had the illusion that everyone in the audience had the same playful eyes and contempt as Zhao Ziyu.
Qingjingzi's blood rushed to his head, his face turned red, and he opened his lips. He was about to respond in the next second, but suddenly he stopped suddenly!
This was the vigilance and stability that he had always been proud of, which stopped him.
He has long passed the age of hot-blooded recklessness. Although he has been pampered and leisurely practicing Taoism for so many years, Lin Wenruo's unexpected attack not long ago awakened his vigilance as a golden elixir realm monk who is fighting for his life.
He keenly smelled something amiss, but within a short period of time he had no idea where this uneasiness came from.
Zhao Rong saw the Taoist priest wearing a yellow and purple imperial robe, holding tightly the heart of the hearth that he was thinking about. When he was about to open his mouth, he suddenly stopped and closed his mouth. Although his expression remained unchanged, his eyes were narrowed.
Slowly open your eyes, clench your fists and continue to turn the rosary beads.
Zhao Rong's heart suddenly sank, but soon he made a move.
Zhao Rong's originally calm expression raised his brows, turned his head to the right, glanced at Lin Wenruo and the auditorium on the right, and suddenly seemed to be amused by something. He smiled happily, shrugged and shook his head, and stopped looking at Qing Jingzi.
He said no more and turned around to leave.
Qingjingzi had just begun to carefully speculate on the motives of Zhao Ziyu's behavior. Seeing the situation, he couldn't help but get angry again. He was repeatedly ridiculed and disdained in public by a yellow-haired child who was probably less than one-tenth of his age. Even though he thought he was nourishing his energy.
His kung fu was good, but he couldn't help but emit the anger of the Three-Point Clay Bodhisattva.
However, he did not speak immediately. Instead, when Zhao Rong turned around, he turned his head and looked left and right. After receiving a confirmation nod from a woman in purple, he thought for three breaths and suddenly spoke.
"Bet, why not bet? Boy, why are you running?"
Zhao Rong stopped when he heard the words, and did not turn around immediately. Instead, he turned his head sideways and glanced at Qing Jingzi behind him, "Why, after giving you so much time, you finally figured it out? Decided not to continue to coerce? Let's forget it, even
You have to think about such a trivial matter for a long time, I'm afraid you won't be able to afford to lose later."
Qingjingzi snorted coldly and did not answer, but said directly: "Pindao's national master's robe is called the Tianxian Cave Clothes. It is a thousand-year inheritance of Zhongnan Kingdom. It is refined from many spiritual treasures of Zhongnan Mountain. It is above
The 1,800 magic array prohibitions have been blessed and supplemented by the Zhongnan Imperial Masters of the past generations, and have many functions, such as concealing the master’s cultivation..."
"Okay, okay, who cares about the messy functions of your rags? Let's talk later. If you lose, just keep everything you have on your body, put on your underpants and get out of here. Don't let me go anymore.
I saw you." Zhao Rong sounded impatient.
As soon as these words were spoken, the noise from the more than two thousand people who were witnessing the gambling became even louder, one wave after another, and for a while they drowned out the noise from Zhao Rong's side.
"quiet!"
Layman Liuyi frowned and scolded.
The air that was originally boiling suddenly became quiet.
All eyes were on Zhao Rong and Qing Jingzi, wondering whether the latter would dare to take this ridiculous gamble.
After a few breaths, the spectators were not disappointed.
"Okay." Huang Zi Taoist uttered two words between his teeth, and then the corners of his mouth outlined an almost semicircular exaggerated curve, revealing his strong white teeth, and said word by word, "Then, what are you betting with the Taoist Master?"
Zhao Rong looked at Qing Jingzi quietly, finally waiting for this answer, but at this time he could feel that the Huangzi Taoist priest had been completely angered by him, and the eyes he looked at him were filled with terrifying pressure.
The Taoist priest in front of me is a fifth-level Taoist cultivator who has built a small world in the human body, turned heaven and earth into a furnace, and developed a golden elixir of immortality.
It’s just that Zhao Rong felt that... that was it. After all, he had even touched the tiger beard of the Nascent Soul sword cultivator who could dominate the mountains, and he had already embarked on the path of cultivation. In addition, he was born extraordinary.
He is handsome and courageous...well, Zhao Rong admitted that this is only part of the reason. The most important reason is that the Liuyi layman not far away is blocking the field, which will affect the fair progress of the talks. All this is why he is like this.
easy.
Zhao Rong turned around and walked directly to the table where the origami paper had been placed. He gently stretched out an index finger and picked up a corner of the twice-folded poem paper.
Between the gaps in the paper, a hint of the starry sky and the bright moon suddenly leaked out.
Slowly, a breeze blew by, lifting the right sleeve of the young Confucian scholar who was picking up paper.
At this moment, if you look at this scene from a distance.
One piece of poetry and paper, one table and one Confucian scholar.
The breeze fills the sleeves, and the stars and moon fill the poems and paper.
"This is..." Layman Liuyi glanced at it with drunken eyes and muttered.
The little fox demon's eyes widened.
Qingjingzi's expression turned serious.
"Falling flowers are a state of no-self." Lin Wenruo said softly.
Layman Liuyi nodded, then looked around, suppressing the crowds at the table who were about to make another noise after a burst of sighs.
The old man turned around and couldn't help but take another look at the poem note.
At that time, he was still a mortal prince, a Confucian scholar who admired the sages and was full of hope for Confucianism and Taoism. How old was he when he first made the Luohuapin? It had already been established, and it was only the Luohuapin.
That's all, I remember, she always laughed at him for being too melancholy and too craftsmanship, saying that if there were no accidents, he would never be able to compose poems about the state of selflessness...
However, when he later filled in the words "selfless state" for her, where was she? She seemed to be left in the afterglow of her motherland.
The mountains and rivers of the motherland have long since been shattered, and he has turned pale and white-haired. Now he suddenly looks back... Why didn't he stay with that woman, the Confucian clothes, the osmanthus in autumn, and the beacon fire all over the city?
The drunk-eyed old man took a hurried sip of wine, as if the sorrowful water in an endless gourd overflowed from his white beard.
Layman Liuyi came back to his senses and glanced at the two young Confucian scholars in front of him.
One wants to govern his family and country with Confucianism.
A young man with an enthusiastic book business.
Then he took a deep look at Zhao Rong, who stretched out a finger and pressed it casually on a poem about the state of selflessness of falling flowers, and didn't know what he thought of again.
The poem at Zhao Rong's fingertips was written on the night when he was admiring the moon in the Huxin Pavilion. He wanted to give it to someone before leaving, but now the situation forced him to take it out in advance as a bet to cope with the situation at hand.
.
Zhao Rong saw no one around him and spoke softly, "This is my bet."
Qingjingzi moved his eyes away from the piece of poetry paper, glanced at Zhao Rong, and suddenly sneered: "Not enough, is this all you have?"
Zhao Rong frowned slightly and looked at Layman Liuyi.
Layman Liuyi pondered for a while and nodded.
The stakes are indeed a bit low.
Luo Hua Pin, the poems about the Selfless Realm are indeed precious, especially for the Immortal Family sect on a mountain. It can continuously provide the Immortal Family disciples with the opportunity to directly break through the bottleneck of the Fuyao Realm and advance to the Haoran Realm. As long as the user is suitable
Just its artistic conception.
Moreover, top-notch poems are like rare objects. Most of them are in the hands of academies and some Confucian monks. Very few are circulated in the mountains. Most of them are disposable consumables, let alone fallen flowers that can be used continuously.
I don’t know the poetry of the realm, but I don’t know that in the past hundred years, no more than one hand has been circulated and traded on Wangquezhou Mountain.
However, it is only limited to the lower realms after all. It can only help novice monks pass the first major hurdle of practice. For monks in the third realm and above, it becomes less and less useful as you go up.
What Qingjingzi took out was an inherited robe that was valuable even to a half-step Nascent Soul monk, and it also had... dignity.
All in all, this poem alone is indeed a bit inferior as a bet.
Lin Wenruo on the side didn't know what kind of medicine Zhao Rong was selling in his gourd, and thought he was just trying to help him out, and continued to stir up hatred and act like the best horse.
He took off the blue and white jade from his waist, which symbolized his status as an academician and was his natal treasure. He took a few steps forward and prepared to put it together with the poem "Luo Hua Pin" as Zhao Rong's bet. However, Zhao Rong stretched out his hand.
Stop.
Zhao Rong turned his head and said to Qing Jingzi nonchalantly: "Then tell me, if you want anything else, as long as it's mine, I can take it out, otherwise forget it."
Qingjingzi spoke directly and aggressively, "I want to bet that you are in rags. If you lose, you will take off your clothes and leave them in Chongxu Temple to be used as a rag. You can wear pants for me and roll down Taibai Mountain!"
Zhao Rong thought for a while and said softly: "Okay."
"besides……"
Zhao Rong interrupted, with a serious tone, "Actually, if you don't want to gamble on purpose, you can just say it directly. You don't have to pretend that it's not that I don't want to gamble, but that it's that he can't afford to gamble. Isn't it because you don't want to admit that you are a coward? Cai De
You've been serving as an unworthy Imperial Master for so long, and you still have to lose this little face?"
After hearing this, Qingjingzi felt angry again. He has been going smoothly since he started practicing Taoism. How could he have such a quarrel in the market? He said in a firm tone, "There is one last thing."
Zhao Rong curled his lips and was silent for a moment, "Let's talk and listen."
Taoist priest Huang Zi cast his dark eyes at a certain figure beside Zhao Rong.
"If you lose the bet on the woman from the Fox tribe next to you who is in the pill-forming stage, let her be the furnace for the poor Taoist!"
The young Confucian scholar narrowed his eyes.
PS: This chapter is 3k. It’s inconvenient to write it down to 2k, otherwise you’ll say I’m lazy, cough, cough, so it’s a little late. Xiaorong now writes almost 5,000 words every day, which is really not short~