The poem says: When you open your eyes in desolation, the spirit of ashes burns. There is no ink lotus, it is just a lotus from the beginning.
In the quiet ancestral hall, when Long Xing put the ink lotus into the ink cartridge on the incense table, a monstrous pressure instantly enveloped the entire ancestral hall.
At this time, Mo Lian, who was lying in the ink cartridge, was radiating light all over. Long Xing's spiritual power could feel that a strong suction force came from the ink cartridge, absorbing Mo Lian's energy and spiritual power.
Mo Lian, who had been refined by Long Xing, everything was under the perception of Long Xing's soul. Through the inhaled ink-colored threads, a deep black hole seemed to overflow with luster after energy was injected into it.
The ink cartridge is connected to a black hole in space, which is weird. As the pressure intensified, buzzing sounds continued to come from the ink cartridges.
Longxing Niwan Palace was beating rapidly, controlling Mo Lian, maintaining its own energy and preventing it from leaking out. Even so, the black hole of the ink cartridge still sucked away part of Mo Lian's ink energy and spiritual power.
In the center of the Mo Lotus, the refined and weak image of Mrs. Zhangtai curled up like a kitten, resisting the suction of the black hole with the power of Long Xing's soul.
An astonishing cold air continuously seeped out from the petite figure. Although this ink lotus was only the essence of one-third of Mrs. Zhangtai's remnant soul, the powerful Mrs. Zhangtai possessed the martial arts skills of her lifetime. memory.
The ink-colored face was slightly pale. At this moment, the ink cartridge stopped suction, and a coercion and sound overflowed from the ink cartridge.
"Feng Wu, someone picked the lotus! Good! Good! It seems that the day to return to the Demon Realm is not far away. Take good care of the black lotus and treat the lotus pickers well. I will show up in the pavilion in forty-nine days. Bring him to see me!”
The sound came through the cartridge, as if it was nearby.
The clan members who entered the Mo family ancestral hall and the juniors outside the door were all shocked by this majestic voice. It seemed that the voice was buzzing in everyone's ears, making their eardrums swell.
Uncle Feng opened his mouth wide and was stunned on the spot. His eldest brother actually had news. He was so excited that he just wanted to reply. The momentum dissipated like a tide in an instant, and everything seemed to have never happened.
Except for the beating luster in the ink cartridge, there was no sound in the ancestral hall.
Long Xing's soul attached to the retreating momentum, following the ink energy, tracing the source of the sound from the ink cartridge.
At the end of the dark black hole, in a simple Zen room, an old novice was sitting on a futon with his eyes closed and meditating.
The aura on his body was restrained, and there was no trace of the aura that had just been emitted in the cartridge.
The closed eyes seemed to have never been opened at all. The ink-colored energy hovered around his body for a while and was sucked into his dantian.
The trace of Long Xing's soul immediately dissipated, and Long Xing, who was oppressed by the overwhelming momentum, did not dare to stay any longer and hurriedly returned to Niwan Palace along the dark black hole.
"It turned out to be an old novice. Could it be an old man from the Mo family? It shouldn't be."
Although Long Xing's soul glanced at him in a hurry and did not take a close look at the meditating person, the momentum and pressure around him was that of the person who just made a sound in the ink cartridge. This was confirmed by Long Xing.
Long Xing closed his eyes and carefully experienced the doorway in the ink cartridge. This was a dark channel that was fired by energy. Mental strength and spiritual state can be passed. If the energy is strong enough, it will be like a transmission array, directly moving people away.
It seems that the old man of the Mo family has some ideas, from the underground palace under the rockery stone of the Mo family, to the ancient clock in the ancient temple of Xiaokunshan, to the ink pond under the pavilion in the backyard. In particular, the Mochi is connected to the Blue Lake. All of this is no accident, and there are many connections.
Long Xing thought of the bell ringer in the ancient temple and the old novice meditating in the meditation room. If the old man of the Mo family was the old novice, then he must be related to the ancient temple in Xiaokunshan.
As for the bell ringer, judging from the fight at night, he was very powerful, but he was able to escape, which showed that the other party had room for it and deliberately let him go.
Before entering the Mochi, Long Xing was only in the Duan Ti realm, and his mental strength was comparable to that of a first-time Earth Spiritist. According to the pressure from the ink box just now, he was at least in the Xuanling realm, which also confirmed the identity of the old man of the Mo family.
When Long Xing spied on the old novice through his soul, although he retreated skillfully, the old novice's eyebrows moved slightly as he closed his eyes to rest.
"Little guy, he actually cultivated a clone of his soul. It's not easy. My grandson-in-law of the Mo family is like this, and the probability of returning to the Demon Realm Mansion is even greater. I hope you won't disappoint me. Yingying's happiness will be left to you."
A voice of self-talk came from his consciousness, and then he returned to silence. The old novice seemed to be at a crossroads in his cultivation, unable to control his consciousness.
The light surging on the old novice's body quickly dissipated, but he still closed his eyes tightly and showed no sign of waking up. The faint ink-colored energy was flowing on the meditating futon, as if there was an invisible vortex of energy pouring into the old novice's meditating body.
At the moment when the old novice entered samadhi, if he observed carefully, the futon he was meditating on seemed unusual.
The ancient bell in the distance rang, and the body of the bell ringer seemed rickety and lifeless. But the force of the blow is just right, and listening to the dull bells makes people feel a bit of excitement and joy.
In the Mo family's ancestral hall, the tribesmen who were already shocked by the majestic voice were completely shocked when the ancient bell rang. The bell struck deep in the soul. Anyone with the blood of the Moh family saw it before their eyes. There is a vision.
Every time the bell rang, it was like ink-colored water droplets dripping from the top of the head, and finally dropped into the ink pool.
The sound of water drops filled the entire eardrum with that ethereal, quiet ticking sound. There is a faint sound of water flowing in the distance like splashing ink. Judging from the size and frequency of the sound, the ink seems to be the aura of Tianchi.
Uncle Feng did not experience the illusion from the bell, but his blood was also turbulent.
The Mo family members, who were looking at each other like idiots, all looked up in the direction of the Xiaokunshan ancient temple and listened to the sound of the ancient bells. His heart moved. The sound of the bell was strange and breathtaking.
The one who felt the deepest feeling was Mo Yingying. The blood all over her body was boiling rapidly. The quiet cold in her lower abdomen seemed to be showing signs of breaking out. Her face became increasingly cold.
Long Xing suddenly opened his purple eyes and saw Yingying's condition at a glance. He took a step back and held Yingying's wrist.
"Yingying, don't listen to the bell, look into my eyes!"
Purple light shot directly into Yingying's eyes, and a gentle spiritual power soothed the emotions that exploded in the blood under the stimulation of the bell.
"Why does the sound of this bell affect me so much?"
Yingying, who was slowly calming down, looked at Long Xingdao who was close at hand with confusion.
"Blood is like the mind. This is a technique that absorbs people of the same bloodline and absorbs the soul. It's such a powerful technique."
From Mrs. Zhangtai's memory fragments, Long Xing learned that there was such an evil practice. It seemed that the bell ringer was capturing people's hearts through the ancient bell.
