Since ancient times, the people have been afraid of officials, and cultivators are no exception, but things between cultivators are like fighting in the nest of underworld forces, and the government generally turns a blind eye and closes one eye, leaving them to make trouble by themselves. As long as it doesn't hurt the people and doesn't cause public grievances, half a year ago, Gongsun Pang designed an ambush for the Seventh Division, and no one cared about it afterwards, which is an example.

For similar reasons, places like Wangjianglou, where cultivators gather, the government is also too lazy to take care of it, and after a long time, it becomes a place outside the law. In the world of China, every state and every prefecture has such a place.

Having said that, on this day, the vision of Wangjianglou was amazing, but the government had to come and ask.

Before the black fog cleared, hundreds of officials gathered on the banks of the canal, among which there were several green-clothed men with three-foot muskets on their backs.

Standing in front of the three envoys was a middle-aged monk in a black robe.

The monk was tall and strong, with a dark complexion, a glossy head, very thick eyebrows, attentive eyes, a high nose, and slightly thin lips slightly upturned to the side, and he was watching the scene before him with great interest.

Standing next to this monk is Liu Yu, the prefect of Yuezhou!

At this time, Governor Liu was relaying the news from his subordinates to the monk, saying that the Ghost Hunting Seven Divisions were holding a banquet here today, and invited chickens and dogs all over the city, but they didn't know what kind of fame they were doing in front of the black fog.

Liu Yu was not a cultivator, so he naturally didn't know anything about this black mist, but the monk couldn't know better.

Seeing that within a hundred steps, the aura was as rich as pulp, and the monk couldn't help but be moved, and after listening to a few words hastily, he stepped forward and stood at the bottom of the Wangjiang Tower, outside the spirit.

At this moment, the cultivators on the Wangjiang Tower are in a wonderland that they have never encountered in their lives, as if the Holy Land of Lingshan suddenly descended here. One by one, they were hungry and thirsty, and they used all kinds of means to capture the wandering spirits and fill the dantian in this black fog like ink.

Except for Bu An, who had no need for aura, most of them were Taoists or practitioners from various side sects, only Hui Yuan was different from Qingshan.

The Qixia Temple in the south of the Yangtze River, where Huiyuan is located, is the ancestral garden of the Three Treatises of Buddhism. The Three Treatises Sect expounds the "emptiness of all laws", also known as the Empty Sect, which is the most mysterious branch of Buddhism in the Central Plains, and has long been in decline in another time and space that Bu'an is familiar with. In this world, the Three Treatises Sect has continued to this day because of its special cultivation methods.

At this moment, Huiyuan's central view of emptiness is as clear as washing, just as the Bodhisattva of Freedom is in view, and when he walks deep into Prajnaparamita, he sees that the five aggregates are empty. In layman's terms, his spiritual world is almost comparable to the supreme state of Buddhism's cultivation and the state of the Buddha's Bodhisattva's contemplation.

This is not only related to the practice of the Three Treatises, but also stems from his talent and the special experience of resurrection from the dead.

And this transcendent state is like a small piece of void formed in the dantian, and the speed of absorbing spiritual energy is far beyond ordinary people—but two-thirds of these spiritual qi, through this void, enter another vast and unknown realm, as if dissipated.

On the other side, Qingshan, which has long been finished playing a song and sitting cross-legged, is cultivating authentic Confucian cultivation - there is neither Taoism's means of capturing spiritual energy, nor the ability of Buddhism to "do tricks and feet" on oneself, so it can only be voted by the heroic spirit.

At one time and one place, if there is no special atmosphere, the efficiency of obtaining spiritual energy by Taoist and Buddhist means is generally higher than that of the Confucian mentality of "those who wish to take the bait", but if these wandering spirits are seduced by poetry and music, then the situation is different.

You must know that the wandering spirits attracted by these poems must be in the atmosphere and mood they create, and if a practitioner happens to have a deep understanding of these poems, or empathizes with them from the bottom of his heart, then his degree of compatibility with the wandering spirits will be greatly improved.

In short, as a player, Qingshan's state of mind must be the most compatible with the temperament of the wandering spirit, even if she doesn't do anything, just sit quietly, she can harvest the aura far beyond ordinary people.

There is also a more advantageous good thing: during this period, the proportion of Confucian heroic souls who come to her hometown because of their extraordinary sense of identity, abandoning residual thoughts, and then melting into her own life spirits, will also rise sharply.

In other words, as the only musician in the world who has mastered the twelve equal rhythms, Qingshan's cultivation speed in the past few months is by no means comparable to being in the Holy Land of Lingshan.

And today, her life spirit seems to be a little ready to move, like an egg about to hatch a young beast, trembling and shaking, but it is still a breath away from breaking out of the cocoon.

When the black fog dissipated, and the outline of Wangjianglou was faintly revealed, the sun had already set over the water of the canal, and in the eastern sky, an evil moon the size of a goose egg faintly appeared.

This blood-red evil moon was only eight days apart, so it was easy to reappear in the night, completely sweeping away the luck that still existed in the hearts of the world.

Downstairs in Wangjiang, the tall monk stared at the evil moon quietly, and waited until the black fog completely dissipated before stepping into the door of the restaurant.

Behind him, the prefect Liu Yu and several governors followed suit.

The aura has been entrenched in Wangjiang Tower for more than half an hour, and at this time, as soon as there is a sign of dissipation, it will disappear in an instant.

Upstairs and downstairs, before the lights could be lit, the black fog dissipated, but it was still dark.

The cultivators were still intoxicated in the enlightenment-like realm, until they felt some kind of powerful and incomparable aura attack, and they couldn't help but take the initiative to make way for the monk who suddenly appeared.

When they saw clearly behind the monk, Liu Yu, who was wearing the prefect's official robe, and several green-clothed envoys, everyone gasped.

Some people can recognize Liu Yu, or know what the official robe means, but even if they don't recognize either, they also know the identity of the person wearing green clothes and carrying a musket.

And when the group came to the second floor and fell into Bu'an's sight, he guessed the identity of the monk almost immediately.

The middle-aged monk has a terrifyingly high cultivation, and he is accompanied by an envoy...... The answer is self-evident, not to mention that between this person's eyebrows, there is a shadow of Yu Youwei.

It's just that he can't figure it out, why did this person suddenly come to Yuezhou - even if he goes to Jiangnan, he should go to Jiaxing to investigate the assassination of the angel.

It's too coincidental, the momentum that has finally been mustered up today is going to be taken down by this old boy?

At this moment, Bu An heard a soft call.

The voice came from the mouth of Qingshan, and it said, "Childe help me." ”

Bu An was shocked when he heard this, and said in his heart that Qingshan would not be enemies, and he would do it immediately, right?

With Yu Zhaozhong's realm of immovable King Ming, even if the seven divisions and the people of the whole building go up together, they can't move a single hair from him!

If there is Su Su, maybe there is still the strength to fight......

While thinking like this, he hurried to see Qingshan, and just happened to see Qingshan open his eyes to look at her, his face was full of sincerity, but there was no trace of ruthlessness to fight for his life.

Seeing this, Bu An guessed what she meant.

In this building, there were a few people sitting on the ground, covered with spiritual light, which was a sign of the promotion of the Daomen.

Qingshan must be similar, but she is close to the peak of the Confucian Mingde realm, in comparison, it is much more difficult to advance to the realm of qi cultivation, and she needs to rush up in one go.

It just so happened that at this moment, Qingshan also caught a glimpse of Yu Zhaozhong.

She had never seen this monk before, but for some reason, she knew at a glance who it was.

At this time, up and down the Wangjiang Tower, except for Yu Zhaozhong's footsteps, there was no sound, and the red light of the starlight and the evil moon was projected from the window, and between Qingshan and Yu Zhaozhong, a meaningful blood-colored light and shadow was reflected.

Outside the window, the Grand Canal is sparkling with stars, and the river birds fly farther away from the red water, and the sound of beating and banging comes from afar.

When Qingshan saw Yu Zhaozhong, he immediately looked back at Bu An, with a trace of panic in his eyes that he couldn't suppress no matter how hard he tried.

At this moment, Qingshan was more helpless than ever, and it seemed that he had lost weight in an instant, and I felt more and more pity.

Bu An nodded slightly at her, his expression firm as usual, even with a hint of a smile.

He glanced at Yu Zhaozhong, as if he was looking at an ordinary stranger, then withdrew his gaze, looked out the window with his hands down, and said leisurely:

"The evil moon hangs on the sycamore, leaking the initial tranquility of people. Who sees a lonely person coming and going, ethereal and lonely. ”