----
Yang Miaozhen had a picturesque look on his face and was a little confused. He couldn't understand the meaning of junior sister Wei Qingling's words for a moment.
Wei Qingling jumped off the bed and spread her hands:
"Sister, take out your talismans, the folded ones."
Yang Miaozhen shook her head instinctively. These folded talisman papers were filled with poems that she carefully wrote word by word with a vermilion pen.
These poems come from a poet who is famous in the world.
The human sect blended into the secular world, and the poet's poems were spread to the sect without hesitation. She had never heard of them for a long time.
Although she has never met this poet, she heard that Lang Yi is extraordinary, gentle and gentle, lives in Kyoto, and is also the leader of a gang. His surname is Zhao and his given name is Wujiang.
She read the poems over and over again, and she secretly had a crush on this poet she had never met before, so she secretly wrote the poems on the extra talisman paper she usually had.
"Senior sister, isn't it written with the poems of the great poet Zhao?" Wei Qingling was a little angry, secretly wondering how could the usually smart senior sister be dumber than herself?
Yang Miaozhen didn't react yet, and nodded a little dullly: "Yeah."
"Hey." Wei Qingling sighed and put her hands on her hips:
"What's his name?"
"Zhao Wujiang." Yang Miaozhen seemed to have an indescribable feeling in her heart, and her doubts and palpitations made her heart beat a little faster.
Wei Qingling held her pink fist and shook it heavily:
"Who rescued you last night, and who was your yin and yang?"
"Zhao Wu..." Yang Miaozhen had just said half of her name when she suddenly froze on the spot, a look of surprise appeared on her face with picturesque features:
"Zhao Wujiang?"
Her heart was trembling, and the proud and unique breasts were also trembling.
She did not expect that the poet Zhao she admired and even admired was Zhao Wujiang, who was married to her.
Yang Miaozhen's expression changed, and he heard the purple energy he had swallowed.
The purple energy comes from the nobles of Tianhuang or the people blessed with good luck in a country, which means that Zhao Wujiang is from Kyoto, and he has a handsome face and a gentle and jade-like demeanor, all of which are connected with the rumors.
Dark under the lamp.
Wei Qingling dragged her cheeks and stared at the stunning smile that suddenly appeared on her senior sister Qingcheng's face. She spread her hands and joked:
"Oh haha..."
Yang Miaozhen frowned, her mind was disturbed, and her eyebrows seemed worried.
"Oh, senior sister, don't worry, he will come back. Didn't you cast a curse on him?" Wei Qingling hugged Yang Miaozhen's arm and shook it:
"The first priority is to find the treasure first, and then return to the sect. I will sue Li Xuan and ask the masters to write thunder talismans to chop Li Xuan to pieces in Jiuyou Underworld!
The three sects of our Taoist sect actually have such young people, it is really abominable! "
----
Yang Miaozhen and Wei Qingling came to the side hall, and the monks in the temple opened the Sutra Pavilion for them.
According to the three Taoist leaders of the Taoist sect, Lanruo Temple possesses the mental method of the "Phaseless Prajna Sutra" without knowing it.
So the first place they speculated to hide the treasure was in the Sutra Pavilion.
So they decided to ask the abbot.
According to their imagination, it might not be easy for Taoist people to ask about Buddhism and read Buddhist scriptures.
But unexpectedly, the abbot agreed immediately.
At this time, they stepped into the Sutra Collection Pavilion.
The Sutra Pavilion has a large collection of books, all of which are various Buddhist classics, or the insights left by eminent monks and sages of the past, etc.
"There are so many ancient books, it may be difficult to find them." Yang Miaozhen looked very coldly, looking at the books in the room, shaking his head lightly.
"Sister, I found it!"
Wei Qingling cheered, holding an ancient blue book in her hand and shaking it, her face full of joy, her eyes curved into crescents.
Yang Miaozhen was confused and walked up quickly, passing by two rows of bookshelves.
"The Formless Prajna Sutra...the inner method..." She muttered softly, frowning. Is this kind of thing placed on the bookshelf so straightforwardly? Is it marked so clearly?
