The Lord who use immortals as food

This was a scene that made everyone silent, as if the eyes of heaven were looking at this.

Some people already knew what face was behind the Buddha's face, and some people also got some astonishing speculations from these sixteen words... In any case, only ten people in the world could bear this miracle of asking for the will of heaven.

If a person asks about his life, then heaven will convey the will, and the prince will express his will, and four sentences and sixteen words will be obtained.

The weight of this sentence is breathtaking.

The old man is indeed very old, maybe seventy, maybe eighty. He stood in the main seat holding a wine bottle, and his wide sleeves slipped down. Except for a string of exquisite Buddhist beads, there were spots and wrinkles on his exposed forearms. But it still reveals the delicateness and whiteness of being pampered.

Under the candlelight, the old man raised the wine in the bottle to the sky, raised his head and drank it, and then he said nothing, and gently let go of his hand, letting the empty cup fall to the ground, and the sound of glass breaking.

The old man sat back at the table, his lazy joy not concealed from anyone.

Among the hundreds of billions of living beings in the world, who can know their fate in the future?

If the heavens allow, how can life have any worries?

The interweaving of cold and warm light wandered on the delicate and compassionate Buddha's face, and the bright moon did not dim anymore, shining on the will of heaven and the master of the Fantasy Tower, as if the passage to heaven was still open.

The ancient sages were all playing games, and this moment was the real miracle of the Fantasy Tower today. The Confucian scholar came here to witness this scene. He looked at the sixteen words silently with his sleeves folded. Some perceptive people have already thought of the following heavenly theory.

And the North Sea Vein Master with a sword on his back also quietly set his eyes on the white-clothed prince. He obviously came here to confirm something.

After the shock, whispers gradually rose in the banquet hall. Even here, more than 90% of the people saw the prince communicate with Haotian for the first time. The pure and holy Zen sound once again surrounded and sounded, and the sacred and quiet atmosphere slowly permeated the red building... until a girl's clear voice sounded in the venue.

"Excuse me... the true energy has been restored, can the sword-playing game continue?"

The venue was slightly quiet - it was Dao Qingzheng's upright figure, with a light-colored sword on her back, a simple drama mask covering her face, and two small jade pendants dangling slightly on the side.

She stood in the center of the banquet hall, seven steps away from He Ju, and seemed to have been ready for a while.

The head of the North Sea turned his head, his eyes fell on her, raised his eyebrows with a little interest, and said in a light voice: "Of course... Whose disciple are you?"

The big man spoke, and the guests also turned their attention. The miracle was over, and it was still interesting to continue to see who else could show up in the poetry and sword test - not to mention that this somewhat too young girl was indeed refreshing.

"Hello, Senior Gu. I am Jiang Yin'er, a junior disciple of the Taoist school. My master is Shen Xiaoying Su Yu." Jiang Yin'er raised her hand to take off her mask, and looked at the host seat with her clear eyes. "I heard that those who beat He Ju can get a promise. May I ask if I can ask this request to the host?"

The whole audience was suddenly silent, and Xuan Hu's face was slightly stunned. Next to him, the old man who was discussing Buddhist principles with the monk paused for a moment, then slowly turned his head to look at her.

The eyes under the Buddha's mask were clear and light.

He must have no cultivation, but at this time, everyone in the banquet felt an inexplicable suffocation.

Jiang Yin'er pursed her lips and looked at him seriously: "If I am lucky enough to beat Senior He, can you please take off the Buddha's mask?"

A complete silence.

Everyone looked at the figure standing in the hall at this moment. The light posture of the corner of the clothes was neither humble nor arrogant, which made people feel a little unreal.

This is of course an offense...even if it is expressed in such a polite way.

How long has Huanlou stood in the capital? How many banquets have been held with candlelight as bright as day? No matter how distinguished the guests are, the old figure always sits in that position peacefully, almost like an unchanging symbol.

It is because of this mysterious figure that this paradise will always stand. In fact, people never think that he needs to hide his identity. Maybe it is just a preference or habit of his own.

In other words, it is his will.

So people never touch that identity, and even private speculation is restrained... I never thought that one day, someone would say this to his face.

For a moment, many people's hearts were lifted, and their fingers clenched the wine bottle - that was the subconscious fear of the anger of the high-ranking person.

Even the hands of the monks twisting the Buddhist beads next to him paused for a moment, and in the silence, the old man in plain clothes and barefoot finally retracted his eyes, as if he was too lazy to look at her again, and said indifferently: "You... win first."

Under the banquet hall, the little sword fairy turned over from the cloud and landed on the ground, leisurely drawing two sword flowers.

Jiang Yin'er pursed her lips and gently grasped the hilt of the sword.

In fact, this trip to the Fantasy Tower was completely different from what the girl had imagined. She came down the mountain to this divine capital on earth, and she didn't know what the "Fantasy Tower" was, nor had she heard of Haotian's transmission. Just like now, she stood alone in an atmosphere where everything was inviolable, and she didn't think too much.

She planned to come to a lively banquet - prepared to be uncomfortable - to greet the unknown "brother", and then help him if he needed any help.

Elders who have a good relationship always want their children to be good friends, which is inevitable. She did go to Xiuwen Pavilion to pay a visit as soon as she arrived in Beijing - after all, if this brother heard the news that she was in Beijing from other places, if he was more sensitive, he might feel neglected and unfamiliar.

Unfortunately, it was always a bad coincidence.

She was indeed sorry to both of them for mistaking the fat prince for her brother, but she had no image of this brother in her mind - she only felt that he came from a remote place, had not practiced sword for long, and was now alone, so he should still need someone to teach and take care of him.

And now standing in the Fantasy Tower was a situation she had never thought of.

In fact, she was still quite unfamiliar with everything. She didn't know what kind of place Shenjing was, who she was facing... She hadn't even reported to the Sword Training Academy yet.

But she clearly remembered the situation of those poor people rescued from the Li Pavilion when she went to Jingzhao Prefecture to inquire about the news.

Master Xu said that those were the "goods" for the Fantasy Tower to choose, and the identity of the owner of the Fantasy Tower was still uncertain.

So now she stood here.

Jiang Yin'er drew her sword, and the name of the sword was [Zhao Shen].

She stepped into the Seventh Step. To some people, this was a brand new name. To others, this was just a young sword in the middle of the Duck Ranking. But when she struck out the first sword, everyone was shocked. When the second sword came out, some people were shocked. When the third sword came out, the face of the black fox in the upper position raised his chin slightly.

Jiang Yiner had stepped into the Fourth Step.

…

“…Brother Ning, how many geniuses are hidden in your Taoist sect?” Chu Shuiting finally lowered his tense brows after watching the third sword, and sighed, “She ranks over 500th, it seems that it is because she only met opponents over 500th at that time.”

“I heard that this Junior Sister Jiang is a master of both swordsmanship and magic.” Ning Chaolie shook his head and smiled, “After seeing her sword today, I suspect that she is lying.”

“There are so many heroes in the world…” Zhou Shise smiled drunkenly and handed over the wine pot, “Saints and sages are all lonely, drinkers leave their names, come on.”

Chu Shuiting took it: “With such an opportunity, Brother Zhou, don’t you really want to go up and try it?”

“Beautiful clothes are prone to people’s criticism, and brilliant people are evil… No, no.” Zhou Shise lay on his side, supporting his head, shaking his head. Ning Chaolie smiled and turned his head and said, “My poet friend seems to have won too.”

On the other side of the poetry field, it was Wen Qi who stepped forward.

The man walked in with a smile, took off the chicken mask on his face, and recited a poem. After a while, the crowd cheered, and the atmosphere was extremely warm.

"Wen Qi's poems and fu are all good. His historical poems are bold and spiritual, and his descriptions of scenery and emotions are elegant and delicate..." Xu Menglang whispered, raised his cup and took a sip, "I am not surprised that this person's poems are rated as the best today... Look, it's true."

The copied poems were quickly passed to the banquet hall, and even the edge where the two were was almost the last to receive one.

The man's soft eyes were a little blurred, staring at the paper in a daze, and it seemed to be fixed for a while.

Pei Ye leaned over and looked at it. It was a seven-character poem about history, titled "Passing by Chen Lin's Tomb".

It said:

I have seen the remains in the history books, and today I am passing by this tomb.

If the poet has a spirit, he should recognize me, and I will pity you when your talent is without a master.

The stone unicorn is buried in the spring grass, and the bronze sparrow is desolate against the evening clouds.

Don't be surprised that I feel melancholy when facing the wind, I want to learn to write and fight and join the army.

"The poet should recognize me if he has spirit..." Xu Menglang murmured in astonishment, looking up at the carved beams high above, the moonlight leaking from the cracks... He suddenly smiled, put down the paper, lowered his head and drank another glass of wine.

It is indeed a good poem. Pei Ye read it quietly for several times, and the poet's spirit almost rushed to his face from the words.

This is certainly not a visit, nor does it show any flattery, nor is it the kind of reasoning sentence that Xin Dongxue wrote. This must be the poem that the poet wanted to write... That's why it looks so good.

Pei Ye glanced at the man next to him, and then he remembered the sentence just now, "His poem must be very good... Much better than mine." Pei Ye didn't ask why Wen Qi could write such a poem. Pei Ye had seen him chatting and laughing with Ning Chaolie, and seeing the attitude of those guests towards him at this time, he also remembered... He didn't come in behind someone like Lu Xiu.

There is a difference between being talented but not being appreciated and being talented but not being appreciated. Some people are just bumpy, while others have a cliff in front of them.

"...Mr. Pei, do you believe it?" Xu Menglang suddenly whispered.

"What?"

"Poems about history... I write better than him." Xu Menglang raised his head, his eyes as clear as after being drunk, looking at the young man in front of him.

"I believe it."

Xu Menglang raised his head and smiled: "Hahaha, it's enough if you believe it!"

But at this time, the man's expression suddenly restrained, looking at the empty space, his face began to stiffen a little.

It was Yu Guangzhong, the tall figure of the woman walked over.

Lu Xiu still looked noble and indifferent, as if she didn't see the two people talking here, or although this scene had been in her sight for a long time, she never paid any attention to it.

Lu Xiu didn't "care too much" about what the servants did, but she never had this matter in her heart.

For the Lu family's legitimate daughter, there were few things in the world that could be "looked at", and she never cast her eyes downward.

Pei Ye was smiling and saying, "You just can't write the poem you want to write, not as good as-"

He was interrupted by Mo Ran, and Lu Xiuli handed him a piece of paper at the table: "Write a seven-character poem about the sword fight just now, I will give it to him in a moment."

Pei Ye paused, and saw Xu Menglang stiffly raised his hand, as if a fresh man gradually escaped from the old skin, and was entangled by the dirty skin again.

Pei Ye raised his hand and pressed it down, frowned and raised his eyes and said, "We are just chatting, don't you have eyes?"

...

The poem was circulated among the guests, and the sword was colorful under the candlelight.

Jiang Yin'er's three swords crossed three steps. If Chu Shuiting was the most dangerous and Chen Quan was the most domineering, then the sword this girl held must be the only sword in this banquet that could rival He Jiu in terms of grace.

She was like a shadow flowing in the spring water, the petals brushing against her cheeks when she leaned on the railing. When she woke up with a start, she could no longer be traced.

No matter how amazing others were, the girl used the sword very seriously, with her clear eyes focused and her lips slightly pursed. She remembered that every sword she had just seen down there was for this game.

Three moves is about a watershed. Those who can see the sword of three moves are rare in the world, and after that, it is often the world of people with extraordinary talents.

Jiang Yin'er used the three swords in a row very expressively, and when he broke off slightly, he entered a new battlefield.

Three steps were enough for He Jiu to prepare a stunning sword move.

This little swordsman seems to be tired of the intrigues with the swordsman. When faced with a swordsman like the girl, the sword he uses is clear and graceful... an unobstructed [Tianlan].

Those on the ninth level of the crane can see wind, clouds, rain, snow, sun, moon and stars.

A sword with all forms, unimaginable sword feel and refinement, of course it is the Intention Sword, the beautiful Intention Sword - in the last scene, the little swordsman clearly did not use this level of swordsmanship until the sixth step.

Even the sacred feeling just now was squeezed out, and the Zhulou seemed to disappear in an instant. Everyone stood on the back of the crane and could see the fairy meaning and magnificence of this sword.

But there was no fluctuation on the girl's face, only the serious look on her eyebrows. She stepped out firmly and fell firmly. The sword like a clear mirror of spring water flowed forward, so all the majestic scenery was slightly distorted. , like under a layer of sparkling fluctuations.

The next moment it suddenly dawned on everyone—it turned out to be a mirror image.

The illusion flowed away with a sword, and the light and shadow converged on the girl's sword, leaving only a pair of firm clear eyes.

It's hard to even say that it's Taoist Shenxiao's swordsmanship... that's Ying Suyu's own swordsmanship.

"Phoenix Tour", [spring water casts shadows, ice illuminates the gods]

Jiang Yin'er took two steps and reached the sixth step.