Only then did everyone understand that it was different from the previous section of bluestone, and this section had become a uniform pebble. Anyone who knows how to shoot powder www.biquge.info knows that if it was a brute force to shoot into powder before, then this small pebble with uniform thickness not only needs to be skillful, but also how accurate the strength must be.

Zhang Yang's brother Zhang Wu didn't blink his eyes, he completely entered the state, and imagined the ink-clothed man who showed his unique skills as himself. If you have this kung fu, isn't it quite awesome?

Originally, there was still a little bit of fantasy in my heart about worshipping the Daomen with my younger brother, but now it has completely dissipated, and I have completely determined to worship the Momen.

People in the near distance watched with relish, and more people in the distance desperately tried to squeeze in this way, but they couldn't squeeze anything.

Under the unblinking gaze of tens of thousands of pairs of eyes, the ink-clothed man still did not stop, he looked at the stones grasped in his hands, and did not know what to do. Suddenly, his hands were raised in the air, and two small pebbles were completely struck into the sky.

A line of geese is flying through the sky. Poor one never escaped, and all of them were hit by stones and fell.

Since the geese are not flying directly above the sky, they will inevitably hit the heads of the crowd when they fall. I saw that the ink-clothed man on the right, who was also wearing a green belt, moved.

It is obviously wrong to say that he is "moving", he is flying extremely fast, like a hungry eagle out of a bamboo raft, flying over the heads of the crowd, circling and taking all the geese and stones in his hands, and then flying back on the bamboo raft in one breath, his face is not red or panting.

After all this was done, there was no sound at all for a while. After half a ring, who took the lead in applauding, and then shouted a burst of voices, "I want to enter the Momen, I want to be a disciple of the Momen." ”

There was a surge in the crowd, and the crowd of people rushed to the side of the bamboo raft like a flood that broke the embankment. Those rich and noble sons also squeezed in under the protection of the bodyguards and wanted to join Momen.

Seeing that the circle drawn by the three ink artists is getting smaller and smaller. The inkman in the middle stood up. This ink artist is wearing a purple belt, and his status and kung fu in the door should be higher than that of the left and right. A strong coercion emanated from him, forming an invisible circle of prohibitions, keeping the crowd out of the circle.

The Purple Belt Ink Man smiled, opened his lips and teeth, and said:

"Thank you for supporting Momen, but there are so many people here today, and we only accept five of them. Let me say the requirements, we Momen accept disciples, regardless of whether you are rich or noble, and whether your family is poor, you must be able to endure hardships and have the talent to practice martial arts. Between the ages of seven and eighteen, if we are too young, we will not have time to take care of young children, and it will be difficult to wash the marrow and exchange blood if it is too big. Today, we're going to allow 100 people to sign up, and then we're going to pick five out of that 100 to take away, and we're starting now. ”

As soon as the ink master finished speaking, the crowd outside surged even more. But there is a ban on the air pressure, so you can only enter and sign up one by one from the entrance that was specially left.

At this time, a brightly dressed man who couldn't squeeze into the import shouted, "Mo Ye, take me." I can't squeeze in, but I have priceless heirlooms that I can give to you. ”

There are also people on the other side shouting: "Mo Ye, I am from Manchuria, although I don't have much talent, but my sister is a well-known beauty in Manchuria, you accept me, I will give my sister to you." ”

Of course, as soon as this man shouted, he was loudly accused by the crowd.

The three ink artists ignored these shouts, and just looked seriously at some of the young people who met the registration requirements squeezed in through the forbidden entrance. After registering, he stood aside and waited for the final decision.

"Brother, go sign up." Zhang Yang hurriedly reminded the excited old brother next to him.

"Well, I was dreaming and almost forgot to sign up." Zhang Wu said embarrassedly.

He has Zhang Yang to teach him the magic of free footwork, he can see the stitches, and it is very easy to squeeze in.

"Hahaha......" There was a burst of laughter in the air.

The laughter was accompanied by a voice: "Don't panic, everyone, the wonderful ones are behind." What rare treasures do you have, peerless beauties, just send them to Daoye. Quack, quack, quack. ”

"Today's protagonist Dinghu Mountain Daomen is here." Someone came to their senses and shouted.

After knowing that the people of the Dao Sect were coming, most of the people who were still surging in front of the prohibition of the Mo Sect stopped, after all, the cultivation of immortality was much more attractive than the martial arts. Of course, it seems that today, the chance of being able to worship the Dao Gate is one in a million, and the chance of cultivating the Great Dao is one in a billion, but a chance is better than no chance.

When everyone looked at the sky together, there was nothing in the sky but blue sky and white day. It turned out that the people of the Daomen were still far away, and they knew the strength of the Daomen by virtue of the thousands of miles of transmission that they showed first, and the five bodies of worship were thrown to the ground.

After a while, a burst of fairy music sounded in the sky. This fairy music is wonderful and pleasant, which makes people feel auspicious and calm when they listen to it.

Then a yellow curtain table appeared in the sky, and a gossip map was offered behind the table. There are incense candles in front of the desk, and three middle-aged Taoist priests wearing gray Taoist robes sit cross-legged in front of the desk.

But among them, there is no Zhong Lixiang who has been here before. It seems that the proprietress of the Tibetan Flower Building is right in her analysis of Master Mao, and Zhong Lixiang himself may not have a very high status in the Dinghu Peak Taoist Temple. And just now, a Taoist shouted that there are "rare treasures, peerless beauties, even if they are sent", it can be heard that the person is not an upright person like Zhong Lixiang.

This situation made the three people who were most likely to enter the Dao Gate think differently. The look of disgust on Xiong Ling'er's face flashed, but the Mao family's eldest and youngest Mao Renfeng was ecstatic, and his preparation really came into play. And Zhang Yang doesn't care, anyway, he has his own plans in his heart.

The yellow mantle table did not spin, floating motionless above the crowd. The millions of people below looked up at the sky, and their expressions had changed from their original excitement to incomparably reverent, and the sea of people seemed to be asleep, without noisy sounds.

Suddenly, someone exclaimed, but there was suddenly an open space in the crowd where it was difficult to insert needles. It turned out that two people next to each other were suddenly separated from each other, and there was no feeling of being moved away.

It's as if this open space was originally shrunk and folded, and the people of the Daomen came, and now they are stretched out all of a sudden, and this land, in addition to accommodating the yellow curtain table and the three Taoist priests, there is also a place of several zhang.

It's like a door, and no one can take a step forward. The yellow curtain table and the three sitting Taoist priests descended, and the place three feet above the ground stabilized, and only then did everyone see clearly. It was a carpet-like magic vessel shining with spiritual light, supporting the desk and the Taoist priest on it.

After the felt stopped three feet from the ground, the middle-aged Taoist priest on the left got up. This Taoist priest is about forty years old, with a long face, a goatee, and a white face. The Taoist priest swept the millions of people in front of him, but said to the ink-clothed man who was cultivating on the bamboo raft not far away: "The poor Taoist Dinghu Taoist Temple has no chance of being a Taoist. But I don't know how to make a good relationship with this friend of the ink on the left? ”

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