It Took 100,000 Years of Immortal Cultivation To Discover That Xinxian Village Was a Forbidden Area

"The strokes of the pen are shocking, and the book becomes the weeping ghosts and gods."

Fang Zhongyong heard something incredible. The words of the man in white before him seemed to have opened up a new world for him. His tender face and eyes were full of yearning.

He clenched his small fists tightly, his expression became a little nervous, he had a feeling that he would see an incredible scene.

Seeing his prodigy son's serious face, Fang's father also frowned frequently. He had never seen Zhong Yong cast such a longing look at a person.

Looking up at the boy in white, he couldn't believe what tricks he could play at such an age.

"Come here."

Li Ming stretched out his hand.

A black writing brush flew out of the pavilion and landed in his hand. This gesture alone startled Father Fang and Fang Zhongyong.

I saw that he was full of imposing manners, and the white feather coat slowly fluttered, as if an immortal was immortal.

"Zhongyong, you should be optimistic. The same verse, in your hands, is different from mine."

Li Ming has received nine years of compulsory education, and now he is cultivating immortals and practicing Qi at 46 levels. The combination of the two can definitely reduce the dimension of Fang Zhongyong and Fang's father.

He naturally doesn't know how to write poems and books, but he knows a lot of domineering poems and sentences, even if Fang Zhongyong knows it, it doesn't matter, because the most important thing is the special effect.

The same poems and sentences have different expressions in their own hands, which can better reflect that he is a saint.

Whether the character of the saint can be stabilized depends on whether the special effects are added enough this time.

As long as the special effects are strong enough, even an immortal can flicker and lame.

He has this confidence.

"Recite the poem you just created." Li Ming said with a blank face, "I want to make your poem come alive and let you know the supreme state of a saint."

Fang Zhongyong was a little puzzled and didn't know why, but he still said: "The shore is filled with peach blossoms and butterflies, and the castles in the sky are foggy and clouds."

Then he saw that Li Ming was holding a brush. The brush obviously had no ink, but it could write in the air, as if it had been splashed with ink.

Pen down.

The font slowly drifted away with the wind, and soon, a picture emerged in the air: there are peach blossoms on the river bank, colorful butterflies form waves and dance among the flowers, and there is a castle in the air in front, as if you are in a sea of ​​fog.

Fang Zhongyong swallowed his saliva, his small eyes full of surprise. Could this be the realm of saints he said?

Fang's father was even more astonished, because Fang Zhongyong only spoke a sentence, and Li Ming began to write. At the same time as the pen fell, the font dissipated, and then the picture was formed.

"Continue." Li Ming looked at Fang Zhongyong.

"There must be something wrong with your pen."

Fang's father still didn't give up, he reached out and took the pen in Li Ming's hand to check, but he didn't see any ink, so he scribbled in the air, and nothing appeared in the air.

"The pen is not the most important person, the key is the person who uses it." Li Ming looked at him.

"I, I..." Fang's father faltered and stopped talking, and his heart began to shake.

"Is this the realm of a saint?" Fang Zhongyong's eyes widened. The same thing, in his own hands, can only describe the artistic conception, but in the hands of a saint, he can give back in the form of pictures.

"It's far from it, the real saint is..." Li Ming said with a wave of his hands, his white robe fluttered, his black hair fluttered, and roared, "The water of the big river is coming from the sky."

With a wave of both hands, the picture in front of him suddenly changed. The waterfall in the distance was flowing backwards, forming a big river directly in front of him.

"The real saint is..." Li Ming continued, "The rocks pierced through the air, the waves crashed against the shore, and thousands of piles of snow were rolled up."

As soon as Li Ming's voice fell, the big river in front of him could not be calm, there were rocks stirring in the river water, and the waves gradually roared, like a wild beast roaring and rolling continuously.

"The real saint is... a thunderbolt strikes from the blue, the dark clouds overwhelm the city and the city is about to be destroyed, and the golden scales of Jiaguang open toward the sun."

Li Ming's voice came out again. It was originally a cloudless blue sky, but as soon as his voice fell, thunder appeared in the sky, and soon endless black clouds appeared in the sky.

Dark clouds enveloped the heaven and the earth, and the gust of wind whistled, as if wanting to brighten everything, suddenly golden light burst out, piercing the sky, and the heavenly soldiers and heavenly generals were in the sky and sky, like guarding the gate of heaven.

"The real saint is... Dapeng rises with the same wind in one day and soars up to 90,000 miles."

Father Fang and Fang Zhongyong did not recover from the shock, they saw Li Ming open his hands and lean forward, and then the wind swept in, turning him into a Kunpeng soaring into the sky.

The big bird that covered the sky and the sun cast a large shadow, and it soared up between its wings, trying to compete with the **** of heaven.

But in the blink of an eye, he did not see Li Ming turned into a big peng, but stood in front of them, like a god, his body became incomparably tall.

Like a big mountain, Fang Fu and Fang Zhongyong couldn't breathe.

But he hasn't stopped.

"The real saint is... I will laugh at the sky from the horizontal knife, and save the two Kunluns."

His words fell heavily, and Fang Zhongyong and Fang's father immediately saw an amazing picture. Li Ming's figure became incomparably tall, hundreds of feet tall, holding a hatchet in his hand, slashing towards the sky. go with.

Like a god~www.wuxiaspot.com~ the aura of destroying the sky and destroying the earth is constantly erupting.

"The real saint is... Chaimen hears the barking of dogs, and returns to man on a snowy night."

As soon as Li Ming's words came out, the world changed drastically again. The cold wind blew and the snow came. Fang Zhongyong and Fang's father exhaled heavy white air, and there was less frost on the eyebrows.

They shivered from the cold, kept breathing and rubbing their hands.

Not far away, the **** dog was shivering with fear, growling constantly, wagging its tail, and barking its teeth, just in response to the sentence "Chaimen hears a dog bark".

They hadn't adapted from the cold yet, the environment suddenly changed greatly, and they heard another word.

"The real saint is... I am not a thing in the pool, and I will turn into a dragon when it meets the wind and cloud."

Immediately afterwards, the dragon roar of "Hoohoho..." sounded, and Li Ming turned into a golden dragon.

Dragon.

Auspicious things are ancient totems, and they are the highest level of belief no matter where they are.

Father Fang had never seen the saint, but he knew what the dragon looked like. His legs were slightly weak. Suddenly, the soaring dragon rushed directly in front of him, opening his mouth as if to swallow him.

He was so shocked that he "thumped" and knelt directly on the ground.

But at this time, Qi discovered that there was no dragon descending to heaven and earth, only a young man with his back turned to them.

"Saint!"

Father Fang was trembling all over, swallowing saliva constantly, shocked, his knees gradually weakened, he knelt on the ground, and pulled the prodigy Fang Zhongyong who was still standing beside him in a daze.

Fang Zhongyong returned to his senses, and followed his father to kneel slowly.

Kneeling behind Li Ming.

They kowtowed three times and spoke tremblingly.