Ling Muyun had a dream.
An ancient altar with complicated talismans and seals.
Twelve men in black, whose appearance was unclear, knelt around the altar with disheveled hair, praying devoutly.
In the middle of the altar, a mass of black air "sits" on it.
As for why we say "sit"? Ling Muyun didn't understand and didn't know clearly.
He tried to hear what the man in black was saying, but he couldn't hear clearly.
The scene turned and he appeared in a black hall.
The pillars were carved with the same patterns he had just seen.
Lifelike.
It seems that the prayer can still be heard in the painting.
The twelve pillars are all like this.
"Is this the Six Paths? Underworld? Youzhou?"
Ling Muyun made wild guesses.
The screen turns again.
My vision was hazy, with paper dust scattered all over the sky.
A funeral procession moved forward slowly.
Ling Muyun subconsciously moved out of the way, but no one in the team stopped to look at Ling Muyun.
It seems like he is transparent.
Ling Muyun was equally curious.
The suona, vocal music, and wails should all be shocking, but now, there seems to be no sound in the world.
Ling Muyun dug his ears, but still couldn't hear anything.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
All senses seemed to disappear except sight.
While he was wondering, he found himself in a thatched house at some point.
The gurgling water echoes the chirping of birds and the fragrance of flowers.
"sit!"
A sudden voice appeared behind him.
Ling Muyun subconsciously turned around to defend himself, only to realize that there was no trace of the ink blade, and there was not a trace of his cultivation.
"May I ask, sir, where is this?" Ling Muyun bowed his hands.
"Young Master, do you think the old tea is not brewed well?"
The old man wore a white robe and a pair of loose white trousers. What was eye-catching was the red cloth belt tied randomly around his waist.
He has kind eyebrows and kind eyes, but there is a sharp look in his eyes, which seems to be able to penetrate everything.
"Thank you sir."
Ling Muyun could see no malice in the old man.
He calmly sat across from him, picked up the teacup, and took a sip.
It is colorless and odorless, and does not even have the feeling of liquid flowing.
But he clearly saw that the tea water was decreasing and seemed to flow into his throat. It seemed that there was nothing.
"how?"
The old man held the teapot and gave Ling Muyun a refill.
"Frankly speaking, it's not that good. It's not even as cool as water." Ling Muyun shook his head helplessly.
"Haha, young master is still so direct."
The old man laughed loudly, drank a cup to himself, and said, "Good tea, good tea."
"Sir, where is this?"
After the old man put down the teacup, Ling Muyun asked again.
"Old man Youbai." The old man answered the question inappropriately.
"I'm Ling Muyun." After Ling Muyun finished speaking, the old man stopped talking and continued to find the topic: "I used to have a knife, and I called him Mo Ren. Later, in Qiuci, there was a blacksmith who said his name was Mo Luo Youbai."
The old man's face was livid.
For a moment, Ling Muyun also felt that he had made a mistake: "Mr. just mentioned the taboo, and it suddenly occurred to me that I offended you. Please forgive me."
The old man shook his head and smiled bitterly: "Young Master, I said I am Mo Luo Youbai, do you believe it?"
"Crap, I'm dreaming!"
Ling Muyun blurted out.
He really couldn't believe that Mo Luo Youbai was a human being.
This was beyond his knowledge.
"It's not a dream!"
"Oh? I understand, you are a ghost and you are here to tease me!" Ling Muyun suddenly realized.
"Boom!"
The old man couldn't hold back his anger and gave Ling Muyun a hard blow.
"My name is Youbai, and it's your ink blade!"
"I have been with you for more than ten years. You only use me as a fire stick to light the fire and lift the curtain. Have you ever seriously understood Mo Luo Youbai?"
"Lame Jiu tells you, you don't wake up!"
"Master Zhang beat you, but you still don't wake up! Ou Yezi's descendants made it so clear, you..."
The old man's voice stopped suddenly, and then he said in a panic: "It's broken."
"What's wrong?" Ling Muyun asked subconsciously.
"look!"
Ling Muyun followed the old man's voice and heard the words in his ear: "Go back!"
I felt a hard kick on my butt.
He was about to turn his head, but his neck felt stiff and he couldn't twist it.
Immediately afterwards, a pain that penetrated deep into his soul came.
Despite his strong perseverance, he kept shouting "ouch" and seemed to be dying at any moment.
"Use your true energy to mobilize the thunder method to attack the body!"
The old man's voice suddenly appeared in Ling Muyun's mind.
"You..." Ling Muyun's throat felt as if he had swallowed red coals, burning and making him unable to speak.
With difficulty, he mobilized a trace of his true energy and pressed the palm thunder against his chest.
The long-lost numbness spread throughout the body.
The pain was relieved instantly.
"do not stop!"
Ling Muyun followed the old man's prompts, and the thunder in his palm almost covered his whole body, and the last blow hit his head.
The extreme pain disappeared, and a pleasant feeling of release made Ling Muyun feel relaxed.
"Sir?" After groaning for a moment, Ling Muyun called tentatively.
"You don't have to make a sound, I can hear you." The old man said.
"Sir, is he really Mo Luo You Bai?"
Ling Muyun said, lifting the ink blade in his hand and looking at it carefully.
Except for a very thin red line on the blade of Mo Ren, there are no other changes.
"In the human world, talking too much is useless and only increases extravagant hopes. When the day comes when the young master opens the gate of heaven, and when he reaches the heaven, it will naturally be transparent."
The old man's words made Ling Muyun frown.
"No matter how he talks, he is mysterious and mysterious, which makes people feel uncomfortable."
"The human world is too small." The old man lamented: "Young Master must remember the following matters..."
Learn to hide your clumsiness.
There are seven styles of the Black Blade, not the seven methods mentioned by Liu Ziji. The styles are different, and the first style needs to be learned in the human world.
Mo Luo Youbai was the name given by Ou Yezi. He was called You Bai, not Mo Luo Youbai. As for the meaning of the name, it was difficult for him not to know it when he reached the upper realm.
"Why do I feel like you are explaining the funeral arrangements?"
Ling Muyun was very familiar with the old man's tone, as if he had seen Lai Jiu.
"What are the funeral arrangements?" The old man suddenly realized: "Young master, when you rest at night, you can meditate and practice. It will be beneficial to your Dantian, and it will also be beneficial to me."
"Oh? Sir, please tell me, I will work hard."
Ling Muyun wrote a few words in ink, but when there was no reply from the old man, he shouted to Mo Ren:
"gentlemen?"
"Grandpa Youbai?"
"You Bai?"
"How is this going?"
There was still no sound from the old man. Ling Muyun kicked Mo Ren twice, but there was still no reaction.
"Let's talk about it later! I'm lucky to have escaped with my life."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ling Muyun's eyes saw bright red and broken limbs all over the ground, making him look stern.
"Did Mo Ren do it? Or was there an internal fight?"
Wasn't he fainted by the flames of captured Ah Sheng?
Now, apart from being naked, he is completely unscathed.
It must have been killed by Youbai.
Ling Muyun knocked on the blade, and after confirming again and again that there was no response, inserted the scabbard.
Then he groped around on the captives Asheng and Tong Dan.
Two books, an arrow, and nothing else.
"It felt so good to be searched after the war."
Ling Muyun admired and followed the road back to Nanyang County.
