At this moment, everyone was stunned. They did not expect that the woman in jade would slap the young man and fly him into the lake.
The moment the tearing sound appeared, the middle-aged scribe broke away from the beauty and felt ashamed when he thought of his previous state.
He is the same generation as the master of Miaoxiufang and Aunt Gongsun. Although the woman in jade clothes calls him Mr. Yan. But according to his seniority, he can be said to be the elder of the woman in jade.
As an elder, he almost fell in love with the junior.
This is really a sin. Although Aunt Gongsun had seven disciples in her sect, her favorite was this clever little disciple. And this young disciple is the woman in jade.
And this woman in jade clothes is talented and intelligent, and has the talent to outdo others.
Today's swordsmanship is comparable to that of Gongsun Auntie. Even if it is not as good, the gap will not be too big, but very small.
For Aunt Gongsun, Zhou Youluo is the heir to her legacy, and she can be regarded as her biological daughter.
If Aunt Gongsun knew his previous intentions, even if he was an old friend of Aunt Gongsun for many years, she would definitely chase him thousands of miles away with a sword.
this is too scary. Although they are both holy. It is one of the four pilgrims. In terms of prestige, he is not as good as the literary sage, and in terms of force, he is not as good as the sword sage. Even his martial arts strength is extremely strong and he can be called a master.
"As a saint, my heart, which has been settled for many years, is actually shaken in front of a junior."
Today, the middle-aged scribe has felt ashamed many times and wants to find a place to hide in. If the other three old friends knew about it, wouldn't they laugh so hard that they would lose their teeth?
The middle-aged scribe took a deep breath, and then took another deep breath, preparing to calm down. Suddenly, there were dancing butterflies all around, and they fell in pairs.
This is autumn, how can there be butterflies?
He blinked, and the sky was still blue with white clouds. There is no longer that piece of glazed color, nor the undulating mountains, nor the lush greenery. Those are all gone.
There was a sound of shattering before, and then, all the mountains and rivers disappeared. Could it be that the vision of heaven and earth did not disappear, but manifested itself in another situation?
After the spring curtain, is it the summer scene?
The middle-aged scribe thought too much, and the world in the painting was no longer there and completely dissipated. It's a flash in the pan.
When a pair of butterflies flew down and passed from the corner of his eyes. The middle-aged scribe's eyes suddenly shrank.
He actually saw a corner of the landscape on the pair of butterflies.
"This...is not...a butterfly..." The middle-aged scribe's pupils shrank again, almost like the eyes of a needle in an instant.
He finally saw clearly that it was not a butterfly, but scraps of paper. The corner of the landscape looked familiar.
"This...this...this..."
Just when the scraps of paper were about to fall to the ground, the middle-aged scribe saw other scraps of paper. When he saw the paintings on the scraps of paper, his body started to tremble, and the trembling became more and more violent.
The drawings on every scrap of paper are familiar. These fragments, composed in memory, suddenly formed that painting. That one represents the world in the visionary painting of heaven and earth. "
"Why is this... painting... broken?" The middle-aged scribe was so immersed in the beauty of the woman wearing stars and moons that he didn't realize that the woman in jade had slapped the young man to pieces.
This could be a divine painting, containing the stroke he was missing. If this painting appeared in front of the world, it would be enough to cause a sensation and shock the past and present. The young man's name would surely be immortalized, and this painting would surely be passed down through the ages.
become
Painters look up to throughout their lives!
However, the painting was broken. The middle-aged scribe didn't even have time to observe and gain some insights from it.
"I tore it apart."
Suddenly, the middle-aged scribe heard a cold voice coming from the side, carrying extremely cold sword energy and killing intent.
The middle-aged scribe quickly turned his head and saw that the redness that had not faded away after he immediately closed his eyes turned red again.
Just because he saw the woman's face was red, her black hair seemed to be soaked by the rain, and white mist was rising around her. She used sword energy to disperse the wetness on her body, but her fair skin was still visible. But the key parts are still covered by white mist.
"Miss Zhou...this..." The middle-aged scribe turned his head, not fully reacting yet. Still don't know what happened.
"Where did that young master go?"
The middle-aged scribe looked around, but did not find the young man. Instead, he saw the eyes of those around him widened, as if they were lost in thought.
Not only the middle-aged scribes, but also they didn't realize what was going on. They only saw that this beautiful woman suddenly took action and slapped the handsome young man into the lake.
"The thief was already shot into the lake by me."
Just when the middle-aged scribe was confused, Zhou Youluo's cold voice fell on his ears again.
"Thief? Did he fly into the lake?" The middle-aged scribe was still confused.
"Wait a minute...Miss Zhou, you mean...I was photographed in the lake by you?"
The dignified Painting Saint's face suddenly changed and he became panicked. It was autumn, and the lake was very cold. If the young man fell into the river and drowned, it would be an unbearable loss for the calligraphy and painting community.
"That thief will not die so easily, but once he gets on the ship, he will die at the hands of me, Zhou Youluo, and it is not a pity to die for such a thief."
"This... this... this... Miss Zhou, I don't know why you want to kill this young master... His attainments in painting are further ahead than Yan."
"This person has taken a step beyond the reach of Yan Mou in this life. I am afraid that no one can reach his level. If we kill him, it will be an unbearable loss for the calligraphy and painting world. I hope you will be merciful."
The middle-aged scribe did not turn his head, his face looked a little ugly.
He was so engrossed in the beauty of the woman that he didn't notice what happened before. After he saw Zhou Youluo's body soaked, he guessed the reason after a little thought.
The night sky is actually the wild geese spreading out, covering the sky. The sound of the branches swaying is the wind blowing the painting, and the starlight is the falling water splash. The stars held the moon, but those water drops fell on Zhou Youluo.
But he could only pretend to be confused and say that he didn't know about it. Only in this way would he not appear embarrassed.
"No one can reach his level?" Zhou Youluo smiled faintly and said: "This traitor's painting is indeed somewhat subtle, but it is only a little subtle. Youluo has already said that this person is not as good as him, so why come here? Do you want to do whatever you want to do?"
"Him?" The middle-aged scribe was startled when he heard this.
The middle-aged scribe naturally knew who Zhou Youluo was talking about. It was the master who taught her the art of swordsmanship.
If the way of human sword can reach the sky, can the way of painting also reach the sky? This is incredible.
Who is that expert named Chu?
"Miss Zhou, you are joking. That person's swordsmanship is extremely profound, surpassing that of Gongsun Gongsun. This is incredible. How is it possible that he has equally profound attainments in other fields?" The middle-aged scribe shook his head.
He shook his head, expressing disbelief and deep suspicion.
There are geniuses in this world, but there are no perfect people. Once you are deeply involved in one area, there is no possibility of being equally deeply involved in another area.
Maybe quite accomplished, but not to the same level.
"The man you mentioned must be transcendent in the way of swordsmanship. But in the way of painting, he must be inferior to this young master."
"Mr. Yan is sitting in the well and looking at the sky." Zhou Youluo's face suddenly turned cold.
Feeling the chill, the middle-aged scribe's expression suddenly changed, and he actually felt the chill in it. It was actually a murderous intention!
The middle-aged scribe's face was very ugly, and his words about sitting in a well and looking at the sky showed no mercy.
Although the middle-aged scribe is indeed called Zhou Youluo's elder, such elders only have a slight relationship or friendship with him.
But despite this, as a junior, Zhou Youluo still has to give him some face even if his martial arts strength is stronger than him now.
Zhou Youluo had always been like this before, but now she showed coldness towards him, even though the murderous intention was not directed at him. But it still upset him.
"Mr. Yan, thanks to that young master's guidance, I am now able to achieve my current level of swordsmanship."
"It is said that a teacher for a day is a teacher for a lifetime. For Youluo, there is no room for others to be disrespectful to his teacher. Moreover, Youluo also witnessed the painting of that young master with his own eyes, which is far superior to that of this traitor."
The middle-aged scribe was stunned for a moment because of his heartache. A junior who had a very good relationship almost broke up with him because of a man.
But it’s right to think about it, once a teacher, always a father. Zhou You made sense.
"Is there... is there really someone in this world with such extraordinary attainments in painting?" The middle-aged scribe frowned, but couldn't help but turn his head and glance at the woman whose clothes were all dry, and saw that cold face.
"Looking at how serious she looks, maybe it's true." The middle-aged scribe nodded secretly, thinking that with Zhou Youluo's status, he wouldn't be able to lie.
At this moment, Ling Dabao was like a drowned dog and had to be yelled at and beaten.
He felt the murderous intention, and his expression suddenly changed. I thought that if I acted according to the true way, I was afraid that I would not get any benefit from this woman.
"Damn it, I am so handsome and handsome, but you are indifferent to me? You also said that your painting skills are better than mine? My painting skills, even the senior brother, can't compare with mine." Ling Dabao shook his head.
Although I have never seen my senior brother paint, I don’t need to think about it, I am not as good as him. Otherwise, why didn't it show up in front of me in the early years?
"That's nonsense. I, Ling Dabao, want to see who is better at painting than me!"
"I would also like to see who has a better swordsmanship than Senior Brother, a giant Buddha sitting in this world!" Ling Dabao sneered repeatedly. Then, he dived into deep water and did not dare to show his face.
Zhou Youluo didn't know, nor did Ling Dabao, where the person they mentioned was.
Where? Where? The surrounding fields here are vast, and in the blink of an eye, a cold wind is stirring on the earth. A whirlwind blew from bottom to top in the open space, blowing the autumn leaves as if they were shaking the ground.
There was a man standing on a high mountain, looking ahead.
There is a city there.
This man was elegant and handsome, wearing a white robe, with his black hair tied behind his back. His eyes showed confusion and complexity as he looked at the high city wall. It seemed as if I saw someone dressed in red standing on the city wall.
"There...back then...red clothes..."
