Gourd of Douluo

There is a small courtyard on the roof of the South Pavilion.

The pavilion is in the middle, and there is a bamboo forest next to it, which is green all year round. The corridor connecting the pavilion is planted with creepers, wisterias, and many precious plants.

The old man held the watering can and tilted it slightly, water gently watering the plants, "Little brother, if you don't read down there, what are you doing to the old man?"

"I'm tired from reading. I wanted to find a place to take a rest, but I didn't expect that there is a cave on the roof of the building. Do you mind if I visit it?" Wang Xiaofeng said softly.

"what ever."

Wang Xiaofeng did not disturb the old man, and just stood aside and admired the surrounding plants.

After watering all the plants, the old man picked up the scissors and began his pruning work, carefully cutting off dead branches and leaves to create a neat tree shape.

The workload is not large but extremely tedious.

The old gentleman quietly observed Wang Xiaofeng and found that he was full of energy and energy, so he couldn't help but nodded.

In the history of this continent for thousands of years, countless strange and unprecedented people, things, and things have appeared.

Some people recorded in detail the problems they encountered, their solutions, and the ideas they tried despite not being able to solve them.

Murals, stone slabs, bamboo slips, ancient books...

In the eyes of a true scholar, the most precious thing of the Xingluo royal family is not their treasure house, but this vast sea of ​​books.

Not to mention that he had just learned such a wonderful method.

In the past, those who received the teaching wished they could live in the library from morning to night until they were hospitalized due to loss of energy.

It only took the young man half a day to get rid of his obsession. This is such a terrifying self-control.

It's like a person who is about to starve to death and sees a full banquet, but he can hold back his inner desire, choose to pick up the bowl of porridge next to him, and only drink half of it.

The old gentleman cut off the last extra branches and cleaned them up before inviting Wang Xiaofeng to rest in the pavilion.

"Want some tea?"

"OK."

The boiling hot water disperses the tea leaves at the bottom of the cup. After rotating a few times, the tea leaves slowly sink to the bottom of the cup.

The rich aroma of tea slowly spreads out with the heat, refreshing the mind.

The old gentleman picked up the tea cup and took a sip. "Little brother, if you have anything to do with me, just tell me directly. There is no need to beat around the bush."

Wang Xiaofeng held the tea cup and said relaxedly: "The trick you taught me before may not mean much to you, but it is of great help to me, so after thinking about it, I only have a few self-created soul tricks. The technique is interesting, and I hope you will give me some advice.”

The old gentleman was a little careless at first, but after hearing about his self-created soul skills, his expression became serious.

Self-created soul skills are a very challenging thing to learn and require a lot of time to learn and research.

Only soul masters who are old and whose body and mind cannot support further soul power will think about such things. He is a typical example.

There is another situation, that is, soul masters who are extremely talented and like to delve into theory will embark on the road of creating their own soul skills, but others generally call them freaks.

The old gentleman straightened his body, and a glimmer of light flashed through his cloudy eyes, "Who doesn't know how to talk nonsense? Come out and see."

"Please don't resist." Wang Xiaofeng smiled slightly, and the calm mental power in the sea of ​​consciousness suddenly boiled violently.

Before the old gentleman could put down the tea cup in his hand, the surrounding plants suddenly twisted.

He felt like he was flying, flying very fast and backward.

All kinds of fuzzy clouds and shapes passed before my eyes, everything around me was moving backwards rapidly, and all kinds of noisy sounds were fading away.

When his feet touched solid ground again, the whole world became clear again.

What appeared in front of him was a very comfortable and warm study room. A dark brown vertical bookcase was placed by the window, with densely packed books arranged neatly on it.

The floor is covered with exquisite carpets with complex patterns, and there are soft and comfortable armchairs and lounge chairs beside the fireplace.

The chandelier is filled with candles, but the light in this room is obviously not comparable to candles. The light here is comfortable and gentle, which is very suitable.

The old gentleman's hand still held the tea cup, and the warmth came from his palm, and the fragrance of tea could still be smelled on the tip of his nose.

His expression was in a very strange way, a complex expression of confusion, puzzlement, and surprise.

"You didn't use martial souls, soul bones, or soul skills, right?"

Wang Xiaofeng nestled in the chair, "Yes, this is the space I built with my mental power. You can call it the palace of thought or the palace of memory."

The old gentleman took a sip of the tea soup, closed his eyes, and savored the taste and aroma of the tea soup, with a hint of admiration in his tone.

"It's incredible. You can build such a real fantasy space just by relying on your mental power. How can you do it?"

"My fifth soul ring came from a ten-thousand-year-old white dragon. When I absorbed its soul ring, its remnant soul spewed out a dragon's breath that made my spirit feel cold. I fought with it in the spiritual space for three days and three nights. After repeatedly bathing in the dragon's breath and feeling the cold, I finally figured out how to do it. After optimization and improvement, I finally gave this space 'realness'."

"The method of constructing illusions outside the body and capturing people's minds was learned from a strange beast during a ruins exploration not long ago."

When most soul masters create soul skills, they mostly use soul beasts as their teachers and imitate their special features. However, they only create a semi-finished product in a lifetime, which is then continuously improved and optimized by future generations.

This is the process by which a sect’s secret art is born.

This time is generally measured in ten years.

But Wang Xiaofeng turned this unit into a month or even a week.

The old gentleman had to admit that the talent of the young man in front of him was terrifyingly high.

"What an unreasonable talent."

The old man watched the half-drinked tea become full again, shook his head and said, "I'm starting to feel a little sympathy for the soul masters who were born in the same era as you."

"You are exaggerating. There are many outstanding people and talents in the world. I just work harder."

"Them, talents?" The old gentleman thought carefully for a moment and suddenly laughed, "Boy, I like your cold jokes."

After chatting for a while about the process of creating a thinking palace, Wang Xiaofeng showed him thinking acceleration and thinking clone.

The thinking clone is rather special. It is not a purely spiritual soul skill. It requires a material carrier, otherwise it will dissipate within a few meters of being separated from the body.

"That's enough, that's enough. No matter which one of your three soul skills you have, they are much more sophisticated than the soul skills I taught you." The old gentleman said with a complicated expression.

"Their chaff is my honey."

Wang Xiaofeng pulled out a blue spiritual thread from his head and tied it around the old gentleman's wrist, then disappeared.

"This is the memory I had when I created these three soul skills. You can watch them over and over again. It will last for about three days. If you still don't understand anything later, you can come back to me."

Wang Xiaofeng glanced at the sky, stood up and said goodbye, "It's getting late. I'll come visit you again when I have the chance."

"Walk slowly without seeing you off."

The old gentleman looked at Wang Xiaofeng's leaving figure and touched his empty wrist.

He didn't expect that an act of being a teacher out of interest would bring him such a big surprise.

Such a sincere heart, such a demonic talent.

He had a hunch that Titled Douluo was by no means the end of the road for this young man.