The Lord who use immortals as food

There must have been a moment when the banquet hall was a completely still picture. In this picture, the lights in the building were like daylight, people in brocade clothes were sitting or standing, gold silk jade shoes and mother-of-pearl steps were swaying in the shadow of the wine, and everyone's eyes were fixed on them. Throw it in the same direction, as if that's the only bright spot.

It was in the center of the sword field that the girl in white had not yet sheathed her sword. She stood sideways with her head tilted, her lips pursed slightly, and there was still disappointment on her face; and four steps in front of her, a cold-eyed young man stood. It was like a sword energy there. Where the sword pointed, the old man's face fell to the ground with a gloomy and stiff face.

Later, Jiang Yin'er thought of this incident once, and suddenly turned her head and said: "So at that time, until that moment, we only saw each other's back."

"That's right - I have a pretty handsome back, right?"

Jiang Yin'er stopped talking.

Now is the moment in those memories, everything is still tense, and the suffocating atmosphere permeates the entire banquet hall... There is no doubt that everyone will remember the name Pei Ye tonight.

"Xianrentai Yanzipai, Xie Jingzhao Mansion inspected the case of the Carp Museum." The young man said indifferently, "I will investigate the matter of Huanlou to the end."

Li Du's expression slowly fell after a few breaths. He stared at the young man with his old eyes and said word by word: "How brave."

...so brave.

People looked at the young man in the field and were still speechless - he would indeed not die here, he was not an assassin, and he did not assassinate the current prime minister... But it was hard to say that he would survive for several more tomorrows.

He just stepped hard on the bottom line of the word "offense", violated everything that could be violated, forced the sharp tip of the sword in front of your eyes... and then took away what he wanted.

The authority and entertainment of the entire Fantasy Tower never seemed to have anything to do with him. The so-called masters of the Tang Dynasty and the five surnames of Haotian seemed to be in his ears... He came here tonight to know who the owner of the Fantasy Tower was, so Just uncover it yourself.

Many people couldn't convince themselves to believe this simple logic at this moment. Lu Xiu's expression completely solidified for the first time. In fact, even people in the Jianghu had the same look on their faces.

Zhou Shise was drinking wine and straightened up suddenly: "Fuck...I just recited poems, he is serious!"

Ning Chaolie covered his mouth in time.

And the most stunned person in this scene... was the man standing on the edge of everyone, leaning in the corner of the entire banquet.

Sometimes people can escape from their own bodies.

All feelings of reality will disappear, and only this scene seen or heard will fully fill the whole soul.

"You don't know what I'm here for?"

"...I'll make it for you in a moment."

He had never imagined that someone could stand in front of these people with such a posture. Aren’t these surnames the masters of the Tang Dynasty? Among the scholars he met in school, in scholars, in the poetry circle... wherever he met, he could have some contact with one of these people, just like a chicken or dog about to ascend to heaven, like a golden coat. From then on, "there is a road to Fengtai", and everyone around him gathered with admiring and fawning eyes.

For such a visit, he traveled to poetry gatherings, wrote articles, asked people to recommend him, and had people choose from him... If you want to make progress, you must first be low and small. This has long been the norm in the entire Shenjing, and even in the entire Tang Dynasty.

He had broken his mind countless times, drunkenly gone boating countless times, sometimes because his poetry was too sharp, sometimes because his knees were not low enough. Some acquaintances left, carrying their baggage and saying: : "Yuxi, let's go. They've bent you and blunted you. You haven't written a poem like that for a long time."

But he still chose to stay in this city.

"Tao Ling's fence is beautiful, and Luo Han's house is fragrant."

Throughout his life, he could not be a hermit who settled down to the sunset by the fence. His heart was always beating, whether it was anger, disgust or longing.

He wandered around this prosperous city of Emperor, not knowing his mission. He only longed for an explanation of his life of more than 20 years. Some of those things in the past were abandoned or sealed. Later, he collectively called them As "face".

It took him a long time to understand the truth that "it doesn't matter what you want to say, it's what they want to hear that matters." He became more and more accustomed to the pore that passed upward - as long as it became the shape it required.

This is the world as he sees it.

Until he heard-

"Old thief, I will cut off your head sooner or later."

The whole world seemed far away.

That scene seemed to hit his heart hard and heavily. One moment he felt suffocating and vomiting, and the next moment he felt sour and tearful.

A person who is born with shackles will never know how to take them off...unless he really sees the dance of freedom.

"Whose disciple are you?" There was no emotion or anger in Xuanhu Zhimian's voice, but if he didn't speak at this banquet, no one would speak either.

Pei Ye raised his head, with the same expressionless face: "Public for public, private for private. If you have any questions, senior, you can make an appointment later."

Someone has to smooth things over.

After all, countless distinguished guests were still at the banquet, including His Royal Highness the Fourth Prince who still had pale eyes at the back, and the sixteen words of God's will were still written on the curtain wall. No one thought that the provocation of a young man, Yanjian, could shake the foundation of the Tang Dynasty, so naturally, the entire banquet should not get out of control.

So when the waiter in green clothes came to invite him, the man was stunned for two breaths before he saw that his mouth was facing towards him.

The boy really gave him his name.

Yes, the so-called "I will compete with the masked one" was originally the rule of the game that I set up. If you want to compete, don't take it off. If you have taken it off, you can go and compete in poetry... In the whole banquet, only people like them who came to cling to him carefully abide by every rule.

So he realized so suddenly that the opportunity he had been seeking for had appeared.

The swordsman was gone, and he was the only poet left. He took a step stiffly and staggered before leaving the table... The whole quiet banquet was looking at him.

Lu Lin looked at him, Xin Dongxue looked at him, Wen Qi looked at him... He supported the pillar, subconsciously took out the poem paper, and went in the direction he had been staring at.

He knew that his poem for the petition was indeed very good. Even if he didn't think so, many people would think so.

This was such a dreamlike scene, the Five Surnames, the Royal Family, Zhezi, Tianlou... so many people were waiting to witness your talent.

Everyone will listen to it. As long as this poem is read out, everyone will start talking about it. As long as this poem is dedicated to the old man who has just lost his face, it is the best step for him.

——"I wish to float a golden parrot and ascend to the White Jade Hall."

What an elegant and courteous sentence. It must make the cold and angry young man become like a reckless man, and his behavior must suddenly become childish and boring.

And Li Du, the prime minister of the Tang Dynasty, will certainly accept his visit with pleasure... He may have been waiting.

The drunken head was a little dull. When the man figured it out, he couldn't help but smile.

His long clothes were wrinkled, his hair was messy, and his pale face was flushed with drunkenness. Under the gaze of people, he staggered to the edge of the poetry field.

"--Then why don't you write the poem you want to write? I think it must be wonderful."

"If my sword is not for them to appreciate, your poem will not be used to please them, how about it?"

"..."

He thought of these words, so he couldn't help laughing again.

When he came to his senses, the paper in his hand had been crumpled by himself.

He looked up and saw that it was a total of seven steps from here to the middle of the crowd.

In the seven steps, he wrote a poem he really wanted to write with the title "This Night".

When he turned around and didn't see the pen and ink, he laughed drunkenly twice and recited it loudly. The bright drunken eyes and bright sentences were as sharp as the sword on the other side.

The title is "Jia Sheng", which says:

"Xuanshi seeks talents and visits exiled officials, Jia Sheng's talent is unparalleled.

It's a pity that the seat in front of him is empty at midnight, not asking about the people but ghosts and gods."

...

"Do you believe it? Poems about history...I write better than him."