The moment I saw the main character, a slight sense of dizziness flooded into my consciousness, blurring his appearance.

"On the futon headed by the leader, there is a young Taoist, wearing a golden crown, stepping on cloud shoes, wearing a moon-white robe, sword eyebrows and starry eyes, a nose like a gall, a dignified appearance, white clothes are better than snow, and he has a dusty temperament."

I frowned.

What, there is no beginning or end, and such a large paragraph describing the appearance suddenly appeared in my mind.

As soon as this passage ended, the image of the protagonist suddenly became fixed. Indeed, he has sword eyebrows and starry eyes, and his nose is like a gall - but he does not look like a living person.

How so? According to the words of the high-dimensional world, it is not right to call it a painting style.

The protagonist's face is paper-pale, with heroic eyebrows drawn in ink, and the entire face is flattened. No, this is a piece of paper, which has been stereotypically drawn with "sword eyebrows and starry eyes" and "nose like a hanging gall", but it is not a living person at all. Who can imagine that someone in life has a face like an ink painting?

Such a strange image, but it did not attract the attention of the people around him. It seems that only I can hear the strange words before. Probably because my fundamental consciousness is already able to transcend the story and touch the relationship of the high-dimensional world.

His clothes were three-dimensional, similar to what we were wearing, but white and flawless, with a flowing sheen.

Well, wait?

I remember that the description said "wearing a moon-white robe". The moon white is light blue, why do I see a white robe?

Speaking of which, "White Clothes Win Snow" is also mentioned later, are the protagonist's clothes blue or white? Could it be ...... The author thinks that moon white means white?

This kind of error is much more low-end than the logical loopholes in the previous story. It seems that although the author is in a high-dimensional world, it does not mean that his knowledge and mind are far superior to ours. On the contrary, there may be some places where we are creatures.

As I thought about it, I still hadn't forgotten my own obscene and shameless image in the story, and I was ready to start grabbing a second seat for my leading brother.

Kunpeng was sitting next to me at this time, with a hooked nose and a gloomy temperament, just like an active little angel with negative energy. The funniest thing is that he still has wings on his back.

In fact, if you think about it carefully, it feels strange, Zixiao Palace is full of great powers, how can it be that it is not good to transform into shapes? I secretly remember this loophole in my heart, this is obviously different from the nature of the moon-white robe, maybe where can I use it.

"You are a wet egg-born person, how can you sit side by side with me?" I cheekily reprimanded Kunpeng, and then brushed the Kunpeng out of his seat with a brush of the Qibao Wonderful Tree.

"That's right, wearing wool and armor, how dare you sit at the same table with us and other Pangu authentic sects?" Sitting in the third seat, the middle-aged Taoist opened his mouth to support me, and he had a majestic bearing, like a director of the Discipline Department.

was taunted and hostile by two people in a row, and the others were eyeing each other. Kunpeng didn't want to cause a bigger dispute in the Sage Dojo, so he had to sit in the back with a look of annoyance in his eyes.

Well, the Taoist who helped was the beginning, and I don't know what the relationship between them Sanqing and the protagonist is this time...... I thought to myself, and at the same time motioned for my senior brother to sit down. As for my senior brother, he maintained that sad look on his face, but he didn't sympathize with the unlucky ghost Kunpeng, so he sat down without saying a word.

It's really strange, if the senior brother is really compassionate, why don't you give up your seat back? If he firmly believes that all beings are equal, why doesn't he refute me? I've gone through countless stories, but I still see him as a brother, and I know his character very well, so I can see the contradiction between this incident and his nature at a glance.

In the blink of an eye, I caught two logical holes. It's a pity that it can't be revealed now. Because the character of Zhun Ti is temporarily hostile to Kunpeng, he will definitely not care about his wings. And at this time, Zhun Ti was anxious to let the senior brother get the futon, and he would definitely not question the action of the introduction.

"Thank you." Pressing my thoughts, I turned my head and thanked Yuan Shi Tianzun.

"The beginning of the poor road." Yuan Shi smiled politely at me. At this time, in this story, I officially knew Yuan Shi Tianzun.

"Ahem, third junior brother." The protagonist coughed lightly, "I'll concentrate on the arrival of the saint, don't be distracted." He opened his mouth at this time, obviously because he didn't want Yuan Shi Tianzun to have a deep friendship with me.

"Senior Brother Tianxuan is right." Yuan Shi Tianzun had no choice but to arch his hand to me with a slight apology, and then his eyes hung down and closed his eyes to recuperate.

It turns out that the protagonist this time is called Tianxuan, and he is still Sanqing's senior brother. Then Tianxuan should also be called a certain Qing. It can't be Xuanqing, right? Xuanqing Tianxuan, two Xuan, two heavens, extremely unpleasant.

Bite.

The golden bell is melodious, and the jade is crisp.

A pair of fairy children stand on either side of the throne, each holding a musical instrument. Everyone present immediately focused on the stage.

"From now on, you will listen to the sermon in the same order as you are now, and you should not change the order at will."

Living up to expectations, Hongjun appeared out of thin air on the futon of the Dharma seat, with an ancient face without waves.

"I'm waiting to meet the Mixed Yuan Saint." All the monks present spoke in unison.

"One of the things of the Tao ......" Hongjun began to preach, purple gas and golden flowers, auspicious clouds and mist, all kinds of visions.

Ever since my root consciousness came into contact with the higher dimensional world, I realized that the cultivation in the story world no longer made sense to me. I won't be touched in the slightest because of Daozu's preaching, and if I don't take the initiative to practice, my cultivation will automatically rise to a certain level, the speed is uncertain, but every time it's worse than the protagonist, it is estimated that it was set by the author.

So during this time of Hongjun's sermon, I began to sum up my past experience and think about how to deal with this new story.

Bite.

The golden bell is melodious, and the jade is crisp.

The bell finally rang, and Hongjun finally said: "This sermon is over, you wait for a thousand years to come back to listen." ”

I followed the guide back to the West for a retreat. Of course, it's just a matter of staying idle, pretending to be a cultivator to fit the character of the would-be Daoist.

This is followed by the second sermon, the establishment of the heavenly court by Emperor Jun Taiyi, and the reincarnation of the Houtuzu witch. My cultivation has also been promoted to the quasi-saint realm according to the script.

Quasi-saint, ready for sanctification? Approximate sanctification? Holiness Reserve? What a nondescript name - have you ever heard of a quasi-emperor, a quasi-prince? I thought silently in my heart, quickly adjusted my expression on my face, and accepted a few congratulations from the cultivators in the Zixiao Palace:

"Congratulations to Brother Zhun Ti for being promoted to a quasi-saint!"

"Rejoice and rejoice......" I did not forget to give full play to the spirit of Pudu sentient beings, "I see a few Taoist friends who have a relationship with the West, I wonder if they are willing to go to the West with the poor Tao and participate in the road of enlightenment?" ”

Those casual cultivators were hesitating, obviously sensing my cultivation, and they were a little moved.

"Humph!" A cold snort suddenly sounded, "I'm an outstanding oriental, why should I go to some wild and remote place to enlighten the Tao?" ”

Naturally, it was the protagonist who spoke, Tianxuan Tianzun, who walked into Zixiao Palace with the remaining Sanqing Shi Shiran, and released his breath without hesitation. is also a saint, obviously much stronger than me. A few of them came over and hung me out on the side.

I knew that this was a face-slapping plot set up by the author, so I quickly pretended to be heavy-faced, shut up, and sat silently at the bottom of the futon.

"Under the Heavenly Dao, the number is extremely nine. It is because there should be nine saints under the way of heaven. The Heavenly Dao has entrusted me with the burden of educating sentient beings. Therefore there shall be eight sanctified men under my throne besides me. ”

After Hongjun's third class, he began the process of distributing Hongmeng purple gas with such a sentence.

In such a short sentence, "under the way of heaven" is used twice, and several "I" are repeated, and one of them is used incorrectly.

I don't know how many times I've heard similar lines, but I still can't help but wonder a little, the author who can't even write smoothly is also worthy of creating a story of zào, creating all things in the desolate world in this story?

"Dare to ask the teacher, what is a saint?" As the protagonist of the Four Qings, Tianxuan began to ask questions.

"The saint is a mixed Yuan Daluo Jin Immortal, who is not grinding for thousands of catastrophes, and does not touch cause and effect. The saint does nothing, so he is not defeated, so he is not lost. The husband or the thing is walking or going, or looking at or blowing, or strong or bad, or carrying or missing. It is to go to the saints, to luxury, to Thailand. ”

Again, this widely circulated definition of a saint that I hear in almost every story.

I have tried to use this passage to rebuke the protagonist of a story for violating the Taoist definition of a saint. However, it didn't work at all, and the other party easily refuted it, indicating that this passage was not included in the logic of the story by the author at all, and of course it could not destroy the core of the story.

However, I remember hearing this sentence for the first time before I woke up, and I was so excited that I imprinted every word in my mind and enshrined it as a golden rule. At that time, my dream was to become holy, so Dao Zu's description of the saint was naturally very important.

Unexpectedly, in the eyes of the author of the story of creating zào, it doesn't matter what a saint is. In this case, has he ever wondered whether the protagonist of the story, no, all the saints, including myself, is worthy of being holy, from their hearts to their actions? Is it necessary to be a saint?

Did the author really think about this issue?