The bustling city of Zhongjing has never been so quiet.
This sudden news left everyone in disbelief.
Even those who were busy with their work and had no time to pay attention to Linhuang Lei heard the sound coming from the shadow of the formation that could be seen everywhere.
The coolies unloaded their heavy goods, and the vendors walking along the streets stopped in their hurry;
The merchants stopped shouting and the craftsmen stopped their work;
There is a woman holding a child in her arms, her eyes full of hope;
There was a down-and-out man who clenched his fists and had tears in his eyes;
Lying on the ground in the street style, with a huge stone on his chest, he didn't notice it;
The ragged beggar was nesting against the wall, and the food in his hand suddenly didn’t taste good;
The young children stopped playing, the old woman stopped nagging;
The breeze blew through the leaves, and the rustling became the only sound in Zhongjing.
In this silence, there is a kind of power gathering.
This kind of power makes people always inspired, always smiling, and always going forward.
This kind of power is called——
hope!
…
Dongque Plaza.
Whether they were monsters, dignitaries or great scholars present, they all looked at Chen Luo with burning eyes.
The Prime Minister's eyes narrowed slightly, not knowing what he was thinking at this moment; the Prime Minister looked at Chen Luo seriously for the first time, with a light of interest in his eyes.
On the high platform, Ye Heng swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
Finally, the Ninth Five Supreme Being of the Great Xuan Dynasty broke the silence.
"Chen Aiqing, are you saying that you can let ordinary people embark on the path of cultivation?"
Chen Luo stretched out his hand, and a breath of red dust condensed in his hand.
The red dust gas shimmered in seven colors and looked extremely bright, just like a fire, attracting everyone's attention.
"Happiness, anger, worry, thought, sadness, fear, and surprise are the seven human emotions."
"The various conditions of the world, the heat and coolness of the world, are all reflected in the seven emotions."
"I call this seven-color Qi the red dust Qi."
"Understand the seven emotions in the book and enter the world of society."
“Everyone in the world can follow this path!”
"Before today, Confucian scholars, Taoist priests, monks..."
"After today, there will be one more person on the path of cultivation."
"Wufu!"
…
"Mother..." At the door of Yuewei Thatched Cottage, a woman in her thirties was holding a child of five or six years old, staring blankly at the image in the sky.
Just a quarter of an hour ago, she brought her child to pay homage to Mr.
Zhao Yang was a widow. A few years ago, her husband went to the north with his classmate. Three months later, her husband's classmate broke a leg and brought her back a tattered Confucian robe full of blood stains.
Mrs. Zhao Yang knew that robe. It was sewn stitch by stitch by her husband before he left.
That classmate's legs were broken just to snatch this robe back.
"We haven't snatched the body back. At least we should set up a tomb and have a place to worship." After saying this, the classmate with the broken leg set off on the road to the north again. From then on, she never saw him again.
Zhao Yang dug the tomb, put the bloody half of the Confucian robe inside, and lay down in the tomb.
She didn't want to wake up and die like this.
However, she found out that she was pregnant!
She wants to live!
He went through all kinds of hardships to give birth to a child and raised him to the age he is now.
Zhao Yang didn't want her child to be mediocre, but she was also worried that the child would follow the path of his father.
But I didn't expect that the child was so talented that the little man secretly taught himself Yawen.
Very much like his father.
After crying secretly at home all night, Zhao Yang took her children to find her former husband's mentor the next day.
But after some testing, the child did not have the talent to awaken to read through.
Zhao Yang felt relaxed and heartbroken at the same time.
Just as she walked out of the thatched cottage, she heard Chen Luo's words spread through the magic circle.
"Mom..." The child shook Zhao Yang's hand. He could see that his mother was unhappy and wanted to make her happy, so he stretched out his hand, "Look, I have it too!"
After saying that, a ray of colorful energy the size of a bean sprout condensed on the child's palm, flickering and swaying.
"How...how do you have such colorful energy?" Zhao Yang was shocked, squatted down, and asked.
When the child saw Zhao Yang's reaction, he was frightened and said, "Grandpa Li next door has a lot of newspapers. He showed them to me..."
"You can understand?"
The child shook his head: "I don't understand. Grandpa Li told me that a group of people were fighting over a treasure and then started fighting. I feel happy when the good guys win, and feel uncomfortable when the bad guys win. I see Just look at it and you’ll see this is what it is.”
Looking at the nervous child, Zhao Yang suddenly laughed, laughed and cried again. She held the child tightly in her arms and used all her strength, as if she could prevent him from leaving her side.
The child felt uncomfortable being held and did not cry out. He patted the child's back gently and said, "Mom, don't cry. Can I practice cultivation? In the future, I can kill barbarians and protect my mother like my father." Kissed..."
When Zhao Yang heard this, she cried louder and kept muttering: "My son...my son..."
…
"I have it! I have it!" A drunkard who looked like a down-and-out scholar rushed out of the wine shop, with a mung bean-sized amount of colorful energy condensing on his palm.
"If it hadn't been for Wan Anbo's reminder, I wouldn't have discovered the red dust energy in my body!" The drunkard looked up to the sky and laughed, "I can practice now! I can practice now -" he shouted, tears streaming down his face.
Almost at the same time, the same sound sounded everywhere in Zhongjing City, like thunder exploding one by one.
"I have it too!"
"I have it too!"
"It was so weak that I didn't even notice it!"
"Don't talk nonsense! Wan Anbo just wrote a book, it's not finished yet, and you just read it once, so it's naturally weak."
"Hahahaha, I am a martial artist!"
"I'm a martial artist too!"
"Wu Fu! Wu Fu!"
…
Even in the Dongque Campus, everyone could hear the roars of surprise coming from all directions.
Excitement appeared on the faces of some great Confucians. They were not worried that martial arts would take away the source of students from Confucianism, because those who truly awakened to the talent of thorough reading would definitely choose Confucianism as their first choice.
After all, Confucianism and Taoism can lead to sainthood.
Moreover, they also read Chen Luo's books, which are not like Dao Zang and Buddhist scriptures which are another system, but are also full of literary spirit.
This is the cousin of Confucianism and Taoism.
After a little investigation, they found that there was also a trace of red dust in their bodies. The worldly energy can actually be compatible with Haoran's righteous energy, which further illustrates this point.
What they think more about is that if everyone can practice martial arts, even if Chen Luo only has three thousand miles of martial arts and can practice to the point of being able to match the combat power of the Cheng Shi Realm, then the human race's heritage will be doubled!
For a moment, all the great scholars looked at the demon envoy with great righteousness.
Whenever they show any sign of taking action, they will be shot to death.
Chen Luo is now much more important than a demon mission.
Try moving it!
The demon envoys who clearly sensed the change in tense seemed to feel that the Confucian seat in front of them had turned into the Wanren Mountain in the north. They immediately took the initiative to restrain their demonic aura, for fear of causing misunderstandings.
The old scholar of the historian trembled with his hands and reached forward to grab it. The space in front of him suddenly became distorted. The scholar of the historian put his hand deep into the void and took out a bamboo slip.
He spread out the bamboo slips, pulled out the brush that fixed the crown from his head, turned his righteousness into ink, and wrote on the bamboo slips -
"In the forty-sixth year of the Zhenghe period of the Daxuan calendar, it was autumn, the fifth day of the tenth lunar month. The Daxuan Wan'an Bo Chen Luo and the demon clan were fighting in prose. Four songs were written about spring, summer, autumn and winter. The writings were about visions and the gift of the sacred tree. Everyone at that time could not help but He thought he was banishing an immortal. Sometimes there was a heart-wrenching disciple Lu Shi Dazhi who ignored the righteousness and threatened Wan Anbo. Wan Anbo spoke the truth to the emperor, preached to the world, and opened the fourth way of cultivation for the human race, saying: Wu!"
"This note should be the beginning of martial arts!"
"Sima's lineage, weeping and pouring blood, cannot be changed for eternity!"
After saying that, Sima Daru hammered his chest and spurted out a mouthful of the blood of the historian's mantra nurtured by the awe-inspiring righteousness. He spat it out on the bamboo slips. The bamboo slips flickered with blood and then slowly disappeared into the void.
Lu Dazhi in the crowd suddenly felt dizzy, feeling that the awe-inspiring righteousness in his body was about to leave him, and his whole body exuded waves of disgusting odor. He suddenly shouted "I'm wrong" and fell to the ground, unaware of what was going on.
This is why the great scholar of history used the power of Sima Bansheng's lineage to nail him to the pillar of shame in the history books.
The historian’s magical power will remain infamy for thousands of years!
…
On the high jade platform, Song Tuizhi and Wen Sheng fell from mid-air, and they were arranged behind Chen Luo on the left and right, as if they were protecting the road. The eyes of the two people passed through the teleportation circle, as if through the endless void, and met countless gazes.
They were telling everyone that behind Chen Luo stood Wenchang Pavilion and the Bamboo Forest!
Chen Luo looked at Bai Qingqing, who was standing aside and did not dare to make any move, and smiled faintly: "Young Master Qingqing, let's go down, it's time for a martial arts competition..."
purple pen literature
