Luan Tian looked at a cave in front of him, and the number on the stone tablet at the entrance of the cave was nine hundred and eight. www.biquge.info At this time, the mountain-like coercion has made him feel very depressed, and the roar of Sanskrit singing is in his ears. The roar was deafening.

"More than nine hundred... No way! Also... Again! ”

Luan Tian's teeth clenched, and his eyes began to flash with a strange red light. There are more than nine hundred, and there is still a lot of gap between what he thinks in his heart. Fighting against this pressure, he lifted his qi again, and there was a roar in the dantian, and his body rose rapidly.

On his way up, there were quite a few monks who were concentrating on the center of the painting, and their expressions were extremely painful. Others, I don't know if they had finished painting or couldn't hold on, their bodies were crooked and fell down, as if they had fallen into a cliff.

The height of the ascent is one thing, and being able to hold on to painting for a longer time is also one of the marks of the assessment. Luan Tian did not ignore this. Even, he had a hunch that perhaps the content of the painting was also included in the assessment.

These, of course, are just his guesses. Now, he doesn't have time to take care of this, he can still rise! It can go up again!

At this time, the stone tablet at the entrance of the cave in front of him had become a seven-character prefix, more than seven hundred.

"This number... It should be a sorting. ”

Luan Tian muttered in his heart, staring at a stone tablet in front of him. The stele is only more than one person high, and the area of the grotto has been reduced to accommodate only two people.

"Again!!"

Luan Tian let out a loud shout, the demonic red light in his eyes was sheng, and the cloud body method under his feet was fully exerted, and the spiritual energy in the three dantians gushed out like a torrent. Under his feet, a white cloud gradually condensed, and he stood on top of the white cloud!

This white cloud, rich as the substance, Luan Tian stepped on the clouds and went up again! He felt that the monks around him were a little more thin. At this time, the number on the stele in front of him had become a six-character prefix.

The coercion is like a mountain, impenetrable on the top of the head and the whole body. Sanskrit chanting has completely become a deafening noise, no longer a distraction, but a kind of attack!

Luan Tian didn't want to use spirit stones at this time, although he still had a lot of spirit stones. Auxiliary, after all, can only be used as an auxiliary. Moreover, ascension is only the beginning, and the most difficult painting will be even more difficult!

At this time, Luan Tian glanced at a stone tablet in front of him, and the number on this stone tablet was -616. The height of this stele was shorter than his height, and the width was about the width of two people's bodies. The cave behind it, which can accommodate a monk, is more than enough.

“616··· I love it, and here it is! ”

Luan Tian felt a little familiar with this number, and it was already his limit to be able to fly here. More physical strength and aura, he wants to keep, for painting.

"What do you draw..."

Luan Tian held the pen in one hand and fell into deep thought. Just as he was thinking about what to draw, he suddenly felt a violent fluctuation in the space above his head, as if something was falling rapidly.

Before he had time to raise his head, Luan Tian hurriedly took a sharp step to the right. Almost at the same time as he dodged, a dark shadow fell from where he had just stood at an extremely fast speed.

At the same time as the black shadow fell, a terrible scream came out of his mouth, a monk who had exhausted his spiritual energy and insisted excessively. If Luan Tianshan was a little slower, he would be smashed by this monk!

Looking at the monk's rapidly falling body, Luan Tian shook his head lightly and sighed. The monk wore an underworld robe, and while falling, he used the last trace of vitality to exert his body strength. Although he managed to slow down his descent a little, he still swooped down to the ground like a nighthawk.

Nighthawk! Yes, Nighthawk!

Thinking of the monk's nighthawk-like figure and looking at the stone tablet in front of him, Luan Tian suddenly knew what he should draw. He straightened his body, approached the stele, raised his hand, and waved.

One stroke, two strokes, three strokes... Ten strokes··· Twenty strokes··· Thirty strokes···

Luan Tian stroked one stroke at a time, drawing seriously, and after fifty strokes, he outlined a mountain on the stone tablet, Qingyun Mountain! The Qingyun Mountain in his memory, the Qingyun Mountain he has returned to again in countless dreams!

In fact, painting on a stone tablet with such a pen is itself a great test. The stele was as hard as iron, and the pen in their hands, with a little force, would fall off one after another.

Therefore, the aura can only be infused into the brush, while protecting the pen, carefully and accurately control the aura from the pen, and engrave the picture on the stele. This brush is not a tool, but an obstacle to painting!

Compared to other monks, Luan Tian had an advantage. That is, he not only has aura, but also Qi power, these two forces can be manipulated at the same time, with Qi power to protect the pen Hao, with aura to paint.

Luan Tian is already very proficient in the control of Qi power, so most of his mind can be used to focus on manipulating the aura to paint.

Every stroke is very difficult. Every time I raise my arm, it is like lifting the weight of a mountain, and inside the ear drum, there is the bombardment of Sanskrit singing. At this time, his eyes were red, as if they were congested.

The outline of a green hill is gradually outlined.

"Can you also... Draw again! ”

Luan Tian stretched out his hand and took out a high-grade spirit stone, held it in his hand, and the spirit stone quickly melted in his hand. His other hand, against the strength of a thousand catties, trembled, stroke, stroke, stroke...

Gradually, above the green hills, a nighthawk soaring cross-kneeled was outlined! Looking at the nighthawk's vigorous posture, Luan Tian showed a stoic smile on his face. Gazing at his work, it was as if he was no longer a monk, but a craftsman, a painter!

"And..."

There was a large piece of high-grade spirit stone that quickly melted in his hand, raised his trembling hand, raised the pen in his hand, and ticked it a little, two nightjars, three, four... Six...

By the time the tenth nighthawk appeared in the sky above Qingyun Mountain, Luan Tian's wrist holding the pen was already shaking! He tried his best to manipulate the aura in order to be precise.

When the last point, precisely above the eye of the tenth Nighthawk, his arm, finally unable to hold on, quickly drooped down.

Luan Tian stood firmly on top of the clouds, his body began to shake violently, and the coercion seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, and his legs began to tremble. The Sanskrit chant that hit the ear drum made him feel like he had a splitting headache, and his eyes were oozing bright red.

"Is it gone... And also!!! ”

The three dantians exploded at the same time, "Qi ~ Qi ~ ~ Qi !! Two large pieces of high-grade spirit stones flew out at the same time. One piece was held in his hand, and the other piece was thrown into his mouth and held in his mouth, and he lifted his arm weighing more than a thousand pounds, one stroke, two strokes, three strokes...

At this time, the skin of his whole body began to crack, and countless yin and yang fish swirled around him. "Tick" "Tick" Drop of blood seeped out of the body and fell on the clouds below.

The clouds under our feet are gradually dyed red! Luan Tian is still painting unfeelingly, closing his eyes, and painting unfeelingly! It seems that this painting is in his heart, and this painting is the heart of the painting!

Suddenly, Luan Tian let out a burst of cry from his mouth, and a red light suddenly erupted around his body, and a red mist rose around his body. In the midst of this red light, there was a sound of bones cracking, and the pen in his hand quickly swung twice.

Then, hanging his arms, his exhausted body fell rapidly and fell to the ground. Look at the stone monument where he painted, a green hill, and a flock of nighthawks coiled in the sky.

At the top of the convex peak on the seashore, an ancient well leads to the ground. Next to the ancient well, there is a huge stone tablet, and there are three big red characters on the stone tablet - Qingyun Tablet!

If there is a mountain that will always be imprinted in people's hearts, it must be the mountain of their hometown. If there is a river that will always be imprinted in people's hearts, it must be the river of their hometown.

Hometown landscape, the deep love in the dream!