Above the Immortal Cultivation

Wang Lu simply paid for a high-grade spiritual stone, which was enough to stay for a hundred days. However, if he walked out of the gray market, the token would automatically expire. If he wanted to stay, he would have to pay again.

Song Fengyu traveled hundreds of millions of miles from the Western Desert to the South China Sea, whether to avoid disaster or to find opportunities. If the former is reasonable, the latter is unnecessary.

On the one hand, Song Fengyu gave him a strange dream-like feeling, as if there might be some clues or hints about something important to him.

In addition, the few fragments of him gave the six-star Gongyue Blade on the golden elixir a feeling of "excitement and joy when encountering the sword waterfall and silver lake."

Since the advancement of Silver Lake, his natal magic weapon has always helped him kill powerful enemies. They are connected to his life and blood. If he evolves again, his safety will be greatly guaranteed, and his strength will be further enhanced and skyrocketed.

Finally, when he was weak, his old friend in the West Desert also needed to remind him that he could no longer act so crazily and willfully, and that he still had to know how to protect himself.

Now, he could only rely on luck. For the next hundred days, he would go to the hall at exactly nine o'clock every day and wait for Song Fengyu to appear.

Night fell quickly, and the room was so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

I am bored and only have one night. Meditating and practicing is no longer realistic. Studying my magical powers requires long periods of meditation. All I can do now is to sleep quietly.

Ha, when I think of sleep, since I entered the world of cultivating immortals, except when my body is extremely tired or seriously injured, if I just meditate a little and adjust my breath, I can feel energetic and refreshed without feeling tired at all.

Wang Lu didn't dislike the shabby wooden bed. He fell on it, slept with his clothes on, and soon fell asleep.

There are twelve hours in a day, and there is half an hour at the right time.

Wang Lu slowly opened his eyes. He slept peacefully, as if sleep came unexpectedly as soon as he touched the wooden bed, and he didn't have any dreams.

Perhaps this is also an important reason why people are willing to come to the gray market.

Get rid of all distracting thoughts and impatience, making people calm and free of dust.

Get up from the bed, act like a secular person, use your magic power to get some water, and wash yourself in front of the water mirror.

Suddenly, images of his mother waking him up when he was a child came flooding back.

He shook his head vigorously.

"hehe."

He smiled unconsciously, it was so warm, but he could never go back. Only by continuing to move forward, might one day be able to escape from birth, old age, illness and death.

"Jab pull."

The stone door opened, looked at the empty passage, and walked out.

"Wow!"

As soon as he arrived at the lobby, Wang Lu's eyelids jumped.

Is there any mistake? There are no more than 10,000 people inside. Since the hall is huge, it doesn't seem crowded at all. Another 20,000 or 30,000 people would be more than enough.

There were many people whose cultivation levels he couldn't even see through, at least they were in the middle Nascent Soul stage and above.

The exit was wide open, but because it was not yet midnight, everyone was waiting, and they were waiting very quietly.

Looking around, there was no Song Fengyu in the hall. What remained unchanged was the old shopkeeper with snow-white hair and the gray-clothed clerk with surprisingly clear eyes.

The old man seemed to be uninterested in anything, drinking the spiritual tea that would never be poured out without any interest, while the waiter looked at the crowd with interest.

As time goes by, and the Mao hour is getting closer and closer, everyone's faces are more or less excited, looking at the exit nearby, even Wang Lu is attracted. Their emotions felt, and there was a faint expectation in their hearts.

Five breaths at most.

"Boom!"

His chest felt like being hit by a sledgehammer, "Yeah", "Ha", "Oh yeah", the crowd cheered enthusiastically, and rushed towards the exit with a roar and a tsunami.

The atmosphere was so high that Wang Lu was so excited that he wanted to join them in shouting, expressing his feelings and shouting loudly.

He firmly suppressed the emotion that was about to burst out, and stood slightly in the middle of the hall, letting the crowds of people leave quickly from his side, quietly waiting for Song Fengyu to appear.

However, from sunrise to sunrise, Song Fengyu seemed to know that someone was looking for him, and stayed there like a tortoise without leaving the room.

Wang Lu was also a ruthless man. He closed his eyes and meditated like an old monk in meditation, without moving a step.

The shopkeeper and the boy seemed to have seen many similar scenes, their expressions remained the same, they kept silent, and they kept doing whatever they were supposed to do.

From noon to evening, until everyone returned to the room, Song Fengyu was like an angry child, still not showing up.

Wang Lu slowly opened his eyelids, returned to the room again without saying a word, fell on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next day, at half a quarter of an hour from Mao hour, I repeated what I had done the day before, got up, washed my face, and walked out of the room.

The hall was crowded and very quiet.

He once again stood at the same position yesterday accurately. If you look closely, you will find that not only the standing posture is exactly the same, but also the positions of the hands, feet, and body, as well as the orientation and expression, are almost exactly the same.

Seeing this, a ray of light flashed across the shopkeeper's left eye like a fleeting meteor.

Another day, still no Song Fengyu.

Go back to the room, go to sleep, get up at the same time, and come to the hall.

...

For fifty-five consecutive days, Song Fengyu seemed to be stuck with him, unable to get out.

Wang Lu seemed to be filled with blood, just like him. He stood in the same position at the same moment and in the same place for a whole day, and then left without saying a word after everyone entered their respective rooms.

......

On the night of the seventy-fifth day, a childish voice suddenly sounded in the ears of the shopkeeper who was meditating: "Master, what's wrong with that weird guy? He always keeps the same posture, as if he is in some kind of meditation. This is the first time I have seen him in all these years?"

"Little bastard, he has two purposes, one is to wait for someone, and the other is to practice."

"I know waiting for someone, but practicing, what kind of practice? Master, you have great magical powers and extraordinary knowledge, please show it to your disciple, I am very curious."

The boy asked flatteringly.