The pouring of water is over for the time being. The pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info about her and the demon honor, and stayed in the boudoir to talk slowly in detail.

After Hades left, Xiaoxian did not return to the eighteenth layer of hell. Most of her influence on this place is the howl of ghosts and wolves. After listening for a long time, she needed a fresh air. There are a lot of fun places in ghost towns, and she likes to wander around ghost towns.

Sometimes, you will meet particularly interesting ghosts. They would sit down, have a bite to eat, drink some tea, and stay in that place for a little chat. Talk about the best things that have ever been, and talk about their regrets when they were alive.

What Xiaoxian listened to the most was their regret. She came to the Nai Ho Bridge, where the gossip gathered. However, there is a new male ghost on the bridge, who is very cheerful and likes to tell stories. He often goes in and out of the world, bringing the news of the world to the ghost town.

Many imps like to sit around him and listen to him tell stories that are still happening in the human world. If anyone wants to know how far technology has developed, this storyteller will carefully investigate the relevant matters and give a satisfactory answer to the person concerned. Sometimes, it's still a serialized story. Let's say they're going to be a train today.

Many people don't know the history of the train, where it originated and who invented it. Later, who improved the train and what kind of functions were added? Improvements in all aspects can make a huge difference to the train.

The ghost was standing on the Nai Ho Bridge, with a table, a handful of wood, and a pot of hot tea in front of him. The tea was brought by Meng Po not far away, and she would sit here when she had kung fu and listen to the ghosts tell some stories.

However, on the bridge, it was raining lightly today.

Meng Po put away Meng Po soup and stopped all the little ghosts who were about to cross the bridge at the other end of the bridge. She brought a stool and sat down in front of the storyteller. Today, only three people come to hear the story. One is Meng Po, the other is Xiaoxian, and the other is an old man who often comes here to listen to books.

"Hello, listening to your story for so long, it seems that a vivid and interesting picture unfolds in front of my eyes. In the back of my mind, I realized this wonderful experience, madly in love with this wonderfulness. Please tell me your name. I'd love to know. Meng Po was a little excited, she stood up, folded her hands, and put the Buddha as a child who was dedicated to studying, so sincere and pious.

The storyteller grinned, and his hearty voice was pleasant. He has been talking about books for so long, and it is the first time he has encountered such a crazy corpse. He happily introduced himself: "Lu Minglang, you can call me Minglang." I know you, and everyone calls you Meng Po, a nice name. ”

"Clear, people are as their name suggests. Your voice is very hearty, like the sun in winter, which makes people unconsciously want to get closer. Your image is very handsome, and the matching is very casual. This unique and comfortable taste makes us listeners unconsciously want to get close to you and get to know you......" Meng Po became more and more excited, and she seemed to have a fascinated obsession with Lu Minglang.

She was frantically trying to get to know the man. That stupid appearance made Xiaoxian laugh in her heart. I just listened to Lu Minglang talk about a book, and there was something funny to talk about. Why is Meng Po so excited? Xiaoxian thought about it again, this Meng Po had never been to the world, maybe because she was too curious about the world.

Meng Po Miao praised. Let's not talk about trains today, let's talk about the beautiful poems that have appeared in the long flow of history from ancient times to the present? Lu Minglang said.

"Okay!" Meng Po sat down happily and listened very carefully to Lu Minglang chatting about poems from ancient times to the present. The most mentioned poet on this road is called Li Bai, and he has a fascinated love for Li Bai's poetry.

From his impassioned words, we can understand his love for Li Bai's poetry. Xiaoxian tilted his head, as if remembering that Li Bai was unwilling to be reincarnated again, and stayed in the ghost town. If Li Bai knew that someone liked his poems so much, he must have been very happy and joyful.

Xiaoxian thought about whether to find out where Li Bai lived now another day and bring him over. When Xiaoxian was in the world, he spent Li Bai's poetry. The worship of Li Bai is also like a surging river, endless.

Listening and listening, Meng Po occasionally talked about her understanding of the poem and its mysteries. Time flies in between these discussions. Xiaoxian interjected occasionally, her understanding of ancient poetry was much deeper. I can almost only talk to Li Bai, otherwise how can this group of people understand the mystery?

She's a boring person who studies all sorts of things. Whether it is poetry and songs, piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, she has studied them. She didn't give up after a shallow study, but it took 10,000 years to understand everything. It can be said that she is dedicated to learning everything she can learn.

While others were cultivating, she was studying. Because of her unique Oneiroi technique, she has 0 attacks and can live well. So, her strengths are revealed. She doesn't need mana to become the only dream god in the heavenly court, what a ridiculous thing.

But now she's going to focus on how to increase her mana. Her cultivation has reached a bottleneck, and she has never been able to break that bottleneck. She just came out to hang out when she had nothing to do, chatting with people occasionally. I hope that in life, I can find a way to break through.

"This girl, I don't know what you call it?" Lu Minglang's voice pulled back Xiaoxian's cranky thoughts. Lu Minglang looked at her and asked with a smile.

Xiao Xian smiled back and said, "The little god is the leader of the eighteen layers of hell, the god of dreams. You can call me Xiaoxian, everyone calls me that. ”

"Little fairy girl, I heard Meng Po say that the pastries you made are a must. I also know a little bit of cooking skills in the next, I wonder if I can learn a thing or two from you? Lu Minglang asked.

"You're going to try your hand at cooking with me?" Xiaoxian raised her willow eyebrows, and her smile was light. He looked at Lu Minglang, who looked determined, and wondered why he believed in his strength so much?

Xiaoxian was a little curious.

Lu Minglang walked out of his table and came to the edge of the Nai He Bridge. Looking at the yellow spring water rushing under his feet, he said lightly: "The world is so big, doesn't the little fairy girl dare to compare?" ”

Lu Minglang tilted his head and showed a strange smile. He smiled back, and his bright face brightened again. He suddenly turned his back and held the Nai He Bridge behind him with both hands. He stood with his slender legs intertwined, like a picture of a spring tour. He asked again, "How?" Do you dare to compare with the following? ”

"Hmm...... Wouldn't it be boring if I promised you? There was an evil smile on the corner of the fairy's mouth, since someone wanted to challenge her, she would add some fun and a little excitement. If it's a simple discussion, then Xiaoxian is unwilling.

She's not bored, so why does she have to compare her cooking skills with others? So, she wanted to find a reason for herself, a reason to participate in the competition.

"Oh? How do you want to play? Lu Minglang smiled, not caring at all about Xiaoxian's unsuccessful expression. The man was determined to be a master of cooking, and he believed that there was no one in this ghost town who could cook better than him, except for the god of food in the sky.

(To be continued.) )