After returning from the park in the morning, I cooked and ate, and after the meal, it was a thunderous and untouchable sleep. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

In the dream, the five-color flower show.

Wisps of mist and dew poured from the red flowers that were in full bloom to the yellow flowers that had gradually become pure. Although it is said that it has gradually become pure, its clarity is still far from that of the red flower.

Xu Guangling also doesn't know when and when the two can be comparable.

It seems that without the impetus of the "fog", the speed of the movement that relies only on its own strength is almost stagnant.

What's more, this is only the second flower.

After this second flower, there is a third, a fourth, and a fifth!

Finding a new source of fog, or another kind of impetus equivalent to fog, seems to be a thing that should and must be done, otherwise, Xu Guangling will probably have the opportunity to have a good experience of what it means to "the yang pass is easy to break, and the yin lock is difficult to open".

Maybe it will take ten or eight years for all the five-colored flowers to bloom?

This is still too optimistic an estimate.

In short, if we practice normally and do not rely on "external forces," the speed of progress is really not optimistic.

However, for the time being, Xu Guangling did not take action in this regard.

Now, the pace of progress is indeed slow, but at the same time, the experience of practice is also extremely subtle. The kind of pouring and rheology that is like nothing makes Xu Guangling seem to see a kind of eternity in stagnation.

Yes, the practice of Fuxi Jue in each sound sleep, purely in terms of the progress of the five-colored flowers, is indeed not large, or the traces are close to nothing.

But every time I wake up from a deep sleep, my mood is always unusually quiet and distant.

Wake up, stand by the window, watch the sun turn, watch the breeze blowing, see the clouds roll or Shu outside the sky, Xu Guangling always has a feeling of standing on the edge of time and space, watching the water of time and time flow slowly at his feet. It seems that if you squat down and stretch out your hand, you can touch that time, you can scoop up that time.

The ephemeral and the eternal, the fluid and the eternal, converge here.

It is precisely because of such an experience that although the effect of Fuxi's practice is not very great in his sleep every day, Xu Guangling still does not have the slightest eagerness, his heart, his entire consciousness and even his spirit are immersed in the fog, dew, and rain, immersed in the five-colored flowers, immersed in the stagnation, immersed in the flow and eternity.

And if this feeling is very subtle and wonderful, then the "special training" every afternoon is a process from extreme stillness to extreme movement for Xu Guangling.

With the advancement of the training schedule, with the rapid establishment of Xu Guangling's own martial arts system, the training intensity arranged by the other party is also increasing day by day, and there is a feeling that no matter how you improve, I will crush you to death.

This made Xu Guangling not exhausted after daily training, but he did have a feeling of being alive and dead.

Nine dead and alive is a psychological feeling.

As for physically, with his current recovery power, it is really difficult to be exhausted. It's always the old power that is not exhausted, and the new power is coming again, endlessly, the wildfire is inexhaustible, and the spring breeze blows and grows.

Even if he had just finished training, he was so tired that he didn't even bother to move a little finger, but when he sat in the car and came to Zhang's house after about half an hour's drive, he was full of energy as if he had slept soundly for three days and three nights.

Then for Zhou Qingzhu little girl acupuncture, acupuncture and moxibustion at the same time and the little girl exchanged about poetry solitaire games.

Then cook and eat.

Then go to class and gossip.

Then return.

After sleeping and eating, head to the park again.

This is Xu Guangling's day.

A few days later, Xu Guangling now goes to the park every night.

Of course, he didn't absorb the fog anymore. Winter flowers are pitiful, thin and unbearable to pick.

Xu Guangling just sat quietly on the bench, facing the grass carpet that was yellow and green, and let go of his mind, in a state that is difficult to describe in words, he knew his god and body, blended with the fog, blended with the grass and trees in the park, blended with this land, blended with this space.

Perhaps, this can be regarded as a certain degree of "unity between heaven and man".

And in this state of unity, Xu Guangling suddenly became the master of this place, the change of water and gas, the movement of insects and birds, the shaking of plants and trees, and so on, all the movements in this small world are clearly presented in Xu Guangling's induction.

Xu Guangling clearly perceived and felt how the dew came out of nothing and condensed at the bottom of the leaves.

Xu Guangling clearly perceived and felt how the insects and birds went from movement to stillness, perched and dormant in the dark.

Xu Guangling clearly perceived and felt how the park, including the back mountain, all the genera of plants and trees, the large leaves and small leaves, including the small grass tips, swayed in the night wind, and, occasionally, the dead leaves that were stripped by the trees due to the season, how they swirled in the air, and what kind of attitude they landed on.

These are all picturesque and musical.

On this occasion, countless melodies rose in Xu Guangling's consciousness, like the condensation of dew, like the movement of insects and birds, like the shaking of plants and trees, like the drift of fallen leaves, but in the ethereal situation of Xu Guangling's mind, these melodies swirl up and down because there is no follow-up, and they do not form a song or a tune.

If he had any will, Xu Guangling could have used this to compose one or two songs, three or five songs, ten or eight songs, or even thousands or more.

But from beginning to end, Xu Guangling just looked at these "sounds of nature" indifferently or without any thoughts, in his consciousness world, coming and going, going and coming, endlessly, one after another.

One piece, two pieces, three or four pieces, five, six, seven, eight, ninety, and ten.

Thousands of pieces of countless pieces, flying into the plum blossoms are always gone.

I don't know how many days later, I don't know when, when Xu Guangling was sitting on the bench, his body and mind connected to this world as always, at a certain moment, those fragments that appeared in his consciousness suddenly disappeared.

The condensation of water vapor is gone.

The stinging of insects and birds is gone.

The swagger of the grass and trees is gone.

All movement and stillness, all sensations and perceptions, are all gone.

Xu Guangling is actually still conscious and has not entered a state of complete sleep, but his consciousness at this time seems to have been thrown into a static or frozen time and space, thus presenting a state similar to "although it exists, it is blank".

It's a mess.

Stupefied.

Lost all perception, and lost any sense of time.

I don't know how long it took, in this indescribable state, in Xu Guangling's consciousness, an ancient book that exuded a misty blue light suddenly appeared, and the pages of the book slowly opened.

A page opens, like a world.

The Three Holy Laws, the past.

Ninety percent law, in the past.

Twenty-four cheap methods, Fuxi Jue, the past, Shennong Jue, the past, when you come to the third page, the page is still.

And on the pages of the book are the handwriting that also radiates a blue light.

Xuanyuan Wangqi.

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