Master on the side of the road, don't pick it up

Wei Sheng paused, put the broken water bowl on the table, moved closer to Xiang Gu Chun, and asked, "Can you see it?"

But after asking, he first denied the question on his own.

The monk's eyes were still unable to focus, and when he looked carefully in the daytime, the situation was even worse than before. He almost suspected that the other party had lost sight of even a glimmer of light.

It's just that this monk has an indescribable sense of strangeness in his behavior, so Weisheng is more careful.

That Xue Sheng looked over with confused eyes like this, and looked exactly in his direction.

"No." Xiang Guchun said truthfully: "I can only hear it." Weisheng understood that the hearing of monks is indeed sharper than that of ordinary people.

He looked like he couldn't see and didn't care, he was calmer than those monks he had met before.

"You're recovering well." Weisheng was not polite, and pulled Xiangguchun's wrist for a while.

After the call, I felt that what I said just now was too early, and this person has recovered to the point where he can just walk on the ground, his internal organs are still extremely fragile, and maybe even a slightly louder sound can make him vomit blood in place.

Weisheng's problem with being a doctor broke out on the spot, so he helped Xiangguchun to a place in the lee and pressed him down, and then put a piece of clothing on him, so that he wouldn't always wear this loose and swaying.

Xiang Gu Chun'an quietly let him mess with him, and Weisheng settled for him, so he didn't hang around this monk.

He also needs to go to the mountains to cut firewood, hunt and collect herbs to maintain his basic livelihood. He also needs to feed the chickens, ducks and geese at home, and the vegetables in the vegetable field must be dewormed and watered.

The job that took up a lot of his time was making a kind of medicine, and the smell of the boiled medicine lingered in the room, even the lingering herb scent was lingering on the young man's body.

It takes a lot of time to make medicine, and if a villager comes to see a doctor and breaks a leg or an arm, and carries it with blood, it will be even more busy.

It's just that Weisheng turned around inadvertently, and seeing the monk sitting peacefully, the slight anxiety in his heart miraculously disappeared.

It was obvious that the cultivator also looked like a young man, and he was not in a strong figure. Even the weak one could fight him to the death with no self-cultivation.

There is no magic weapon to protect him. In this almost barren hut, the monk sits on the gray wooden stool. The dim light from the window shines on the whole body. It does not give warmth, but it is very peaceful.

"Xue Xianjun, what kind of Tao do you cultivate?" Weisheng asked suddenly.

Xiang Guchun heard the sound and looked over, and replied, "Sword."

Immediately, Weisheng felt that strange feeling became more intense.

Jianxiu never leaves his body, but when he picked up this person, he didn't see any sword on him, so it was probably lost or broken in a disaster.

He wouldn't be so stupid as to ask where the opponent's sword was.

Weisheng seems to be indifferent to everything, but he actually has extremely keen insight.

He felt that the last thing this person in front of him should practice was the way of swordsmanship.

It's not because Xue Sheng is so weak that he can fall down as soon as the wind blows, but because Jianxiu always has a kind of temperament, sharp and stern, going forward without anger, and can be majestic without anger.

However, this cultivator didn't have that kind of aura at all at the moment, he was quiet and indifferent, staying there like a mass of air, no one would care about him.

When Weisheng was weeding in the yard, he was always thinking about this question, why when he said "sword", he felt strange and inexplicably appropriate at the same time.

Maybe it's because I naively wanted to be a swordsman before, Weisheng thought to himself.

The two lived in peace for three or four days.

Xianggu Chun didn't talk much, and Weisheng didn't talk much, and the two of them had nothing to talk about, not to mention that even if Weisheng was bored, he would rather chat with the cat in the yard than with this Monk chatter to be safe.

But the people in the village knew that the little doctor picked up another person to go back, and helped to bring some firewood and charcoal in turn.

It's winter in the mountains overnight, and I'm afraid it will snow soon.

Xiang Guchun sat quietly on the wooden stool and heard the young man busy in the yard.

Around noon, Weisheng would wash vegetables and cook rice. Halfway through the cooking today, some villagers yelled at him, so he immediately put out the fire, dropped the spatula and ran out.

It turned out that a villager had a sudden stomach pain and was sent to him for help.

Weisheng's medical skills are actually not bad, and he can even judge the illness of a monk. If he has the roots to practice, he may become a warm-hearted doctor.

Xiang Guchun listened carefully, and heard the young man comforting here and comforting there, he didn't look like a teenager at all.

But Xiang Guchun also met many young people like this in the past, there are so many of them under the disaster, the current situation urges them to grow up.

But this microbe is more special.

As the sun shifted to the west a little bit, the monk would not feel hungry, but Xiang Guchun's body was weak and his pulse was weak, so he would naturally feel abdominal discomfort.

He got up and went to the back kitchen, and re-fried the vegetables that Weisheng had left behind, added another scrambled egg with chopped green onion, and cooked some more rice.

Weisheng, who was also hungry, sent the patient away, went to the kitchen and saw the monk standing in front of the stove, he was stunned, and asked, "What are you doing?"

The monk looked back and "looked" at him. There was infinite emptiness in his misty pupils, but Weisheng miraculously saw the meaning in it. He was obviously wondering why he asked the question knowingly.

It is a spectacle for a monk to cook. Weisheng was afraid that he would burn his own stove, but when he walked up to him, he unexpectedly discovered that the monk was skilled in cooking, and that the scrambled eggs with chopped green onion were even more beautiful than his own scrambled eggs.

When Cai Qihuo came to the table, Weisheng didn't have the thought of not eating or sleeping, so he hesitated for a while and asked, "Why do you do this? Aren't you all bigu?"

"My master likes it." Xiang Guchun said.

Xiang Yinli really likes the mortal world very much. He couldn't come down often because of the restraint of karma, but it is said that there are still many booklets recording the customs and customs of the mortal world on the bookshelf.

And later, after these monks from the upper cultivation world fell into the lower cultivation realm, there was a period of time when their cultivation was backlashed by the earth, no different from mortal wombs.

That was the time when monks in the upper cultivation world died the most. They needed to eat whole grains, wrap themselves in clothes to keep them warm, and survive in foreign lands.

It was also during this dark period that many monks defected to major families, and a few desperate ones even sold themselves into Chunqi.

Xiang Yinli and Yan Yuanhan supported each other to get through the past, but even though his spiritual power was slowly recovering, Elder Yan's cooking skills were still astonishing.

The rate of growth.

No one knew exactly how he did it, after all, they were all so busy back then.

But the chief minister has a delicate stomach that doesn't match his cultivation, and few people in Hanshan Mountain know about it.

The root of the disease that fell in those suffering years made them distressed, and the karmic changes made their bodies weaker than before.

It is also inconvenient to always have to use spiritual power to look after him. The head minister even thought of freezing his own stomach, but was strictly stopped by Elder Yan.

When Xiang Guchun practiced with Yan Yuanhan, he had a sword in his right hand and a spatula in his left hand, and he learned it rigorously. After all, Yan Yuanhan still expected him to stare at the head of the sect who didn't cherish him very much.

Thinking of Xiang Yinli, Xiang Guchun felt that he couldn't hold the chopsticks in his hand, and the food in his mouth lost its taste.

There was a heavy feeling in his chest, he knew it might be sadness, but because he had never felt it before, he didn't indulge in it for a long time.

But the occasional counterattack also made this feeling sharper.

Weisheng was keenly aware of the other party's sudden grief, he was at a loss for words, he didn't know how to comfort him, and after a while he whispered: "I'm sorry." , but saw the monk holding the bowl in a daze, the mist in his eyes could no longer contain it, rolling down his cheeks.

"Oh, you are..." He put down the bowl and chopsticks, and was at a loss.

As a doctor, he has seen a lot of life and death, and he should have become numb in this troubled world, but he was born with this problem that can't be changed, and it is the worst thing to see people cry.

While he was in distress, he saw the monk raised his hand and touched his eyes, his eyelashes fluttered, as if he was a little surprised.

Wei Sheng's back suddenly felt a little hairy, he observed that there was no mistake, it was clearly a puzzled expression.

Is this person really a monk?Wei Wei, who has always been extremely firm in his own judgment, has a rare shake... Could it be some magic weapon that transforms into a spirit, or a mountain spirit and wild monster who has cultivated the immortal way?

He thought wildly, could it be that this person is a sword spirit, and he became insane after losing his master.

But soon he also denied these conjectures. The monk in front of him was a genuine human race, physically no different from the monks he met before.

"Would you like to go in and take a rest?" Weisheng asked tentatively.

As soon as the words fell, there was a scream outside the house.

He pushed the door hastily, and the short, stubby little guy fell on Weisheng's lap, almost staggering him.

It was Ah Que, the little granddaughter of Granny Liu's family, and she shouted with a pale face: "Monster, monster—"

Weisheng pulled the little girl behind him, and also saw the monsters coming on foot.

Those are five human-like non-human things, covered in iron gray, with soft limbs and sharp fangs, like a fusion of a human and some kind of reptile.

And they were wearing human clothes. Although they were tattered, they could be found to be the blue robes most often worn by cultivators.

Gu Chun, the minister in the house, frowned, and subconsciously touched Gu Chunjian at his waist.

That is evil.

It is the most tragic and terrifying creation after the evil current poured down.

The emperor descends.

When Zhou Ling came to the Emperor Jiangxi to pass the news of Xiang Yinli's death, it was Bo Ziyi, or Jun Rujing, who came to see him, more appropriately.

A few years ago, he paid ten times the price to take Bo Ziyi out of Chunqi Meeting Huanlou.

That task finally ended with a thorough purge and search. Some of the monks who were forced to stay in the building went around to join relatives or sects they made friends with, and a small number took the spirit stones and scattered among the people.

But there were still a dozen or so people who were taken back to Taiqingzong.

The imprints on the back of their necks are too special, and if they are easily untied, they will seriously damage their basic bodies, so they will be recuperated in the sect first, and then the shackles will be untied when the time is ripe.

At that time, Bo Ziyi didn't live with other people in the sect, he traveled with Zhou Ling outside.

Because Zhou Minggui's next mission was mainly to provide disaster relief, and there was a follow-up to appease a large number of refugees.

He wanted to bargain with the elders of the sect and bring him another doctor, but the elder who was negotiating with him revealed a little narrow eyebrow, and said: "This kind of thing is easier to use than a doctor. You will always have one by your side." Lexiu? If you spend so much money, you can still be regarded as half a member of Taiqingzong, let him go with you."

So as soon as Bo Ziyi reached Taiqingzong with his front foot, Zhou Ling pulled the sword on his back foot, and Yujian flew far away.

Bo Ziyi was extremely afraid of heights, and held onto Zhou Ling's arm all the way, his face turned pale with fright, and Zhou Ling managed to stand still by blindfolding him with a cloth strip.

However, time has passed, and Xiao Lexiu, who was trembling on his sword due to fear of heights, has now become the disciple of the emperor's son, the suzerain.

A year ago, Bo Ziyi's inscription was completely undone, the way of heaven looked down, the emperor descended, and the suzerain came to Xubu Taiqing in person, and asked him to be his apprentice.

Zhou Ling was very puzzled. He didn't realize that Le Xiu beside him had any all-powerful abilities. Although this little Le Xiu had a good intuition on weekdays, it was mostly in the details of small things, and he didn't see much magic in big things. .

What's more, Zhou Minggui is more willing to believe in the sword in his hand than the inexplicable sense of heaven in the emperor Jiangxi.

Now, in his opinion, Jun Rujing, who is wearing a purple robe with star patterns, is not much different from that little Lexiu who is trembling with fear.

When the two met, they saw fatigue in each other's eyes.

Xiang Yinli's death spread throughout the cultivation world at an extremely crazy speed, and it couldn't be suppressed.

Zhou Ling still remembered that day when the master fell outside the sect's gate, holding Bie Changting's broken sword tightly in his arms.

He handed over the obituary to Bo Ziyi, and the two were relatively silent, just like the silent companionship during the night watch after exhausting disaster relief.

Bo Ziyi unfolded the obituary, and there was a pile behind the one of Xiangyinli, which was the list of monks who died in the evil current in this battle, and asked the emperor to come down and sing to call back the soul.

He read the dense list one by one, then suddenly raised his hand, and erased a name with spiritual power.

Zhou Ling's pupils shrank, "You mean Gu Chun..."

Bo Ziyi nodded and said, "I'm looking for him too."