Huang Zi and the old master are both disciples of Yang Ming Zhenren, and Yang Ming Zhenren almost passed the position of head to Huang Zi back then.

It's just that who didn't expect that the escape of the demon emperor in prison would have something to do with millet seeds.

"After this little uncle was expelled from the school, he had to be reduced to a casual cultivator......"

Baoyu looked at the sword light above Lingcun, and frowned slightly.

As if he understood everything, Duan Ling nodded and said to himself, "I see, I understand." ”

Searching for the sound of the stream, the group came to a simple pavilion in the mountain stream.

The pavilion is made of thatch, and the plaque is exquisite, with the words "Listening to the Fog Pavilion" written on the plaque.

"Wonderful, really wonderful. It turns out that the fog in this floating mountain can be heard, but there is no fog to hear here?"

Baoyu finally couldn't help but glance at Duan Ling.

By this time, Qingwen had heard something behind the pine trees not far away, and he concluded that there must be some large bird hiding nearby.

Beitang Yi jumped down from the back of the buffalo, put the buffalo into the small bamboo tube tied around his waist, and shouted at the pine tree: "Uncle Ling, show up quickly, there are nobles today." ”

But I saw a crane swaggering out from behind the pine tree.

The crane glanced at Qingwen, Baoyu and Duan Ling, and a cloud of white mist suddenly rose under the pine tree.

The white mist dissipated, and a girl in white appeared in front of her.

The original humble Tingwu Pavilion has also turned into a magnificent mountain gate, but the plaque has not changed.

Duan Ling, who had always talked a lot, finally put away the conversation when he saw all the changes in front of him.

Qingwen seemed to be familiar with this, and walked straight to salute the girl in white without being recommended by Beitangyi.

The girl in white nodded and smiled, "You're finally here." ”

Qingwen had never been to Fushan Mountain Gate before, and naturally it was the first time she had seen this girl in white, but at this time, it was the same as when he saw Baoyu and Duan Ling earlier, and the first time they met was like a reunion with an old friend.

Beitang Yi was not surprised to see this, but just said to Baoyu and Duan Ling:

"This is the deacon of Tingwu Pavilion, Uncle Bai Ling, we all call her Uncle Ling. You declare yourself home, become naturalized, and listen to her. ”

Baoyu suddenly frowned and looked north without saying a word.

Duan Ling wanted to step forward to comfort him, but Beitang Yi shook his head at him, and said to Baoyu after a while: "Never forget has its own repercussions. ”

He said this to Baoyu and to Qingwen.

Bai Ling walked up to Baoyu and glanced at the peach stick he was carrying, touched his head and said, "Chi Du and I also have some friendships. I never thought that his old man had never accepted an apprentice in his life, but in the end he accepted such a lovely little brother as an apprentice. ”

When he met the master's former old friend, Baoyu just glanced at him with a smile and a worried look.

"Your sword is not bad, I only wish you could put more effort into cultivation in my floating mountain. ”

Hearing this, Duan Ling nodded in embarrassment.

......

The mist rose from the stream, and the mountain gate returned to a simple pavilion made of thatch.

Standing in the pavilion, just meditating on Baoyu and Duan Ling can also hear the mysterious sound hidden in it. Qingwen was born with unusual hearings, and you can know one or two of them when the fog first rises.

Bai Ling held a pen in one hand and a white scroll in the other, and said to the three of them: "Tell me what you heard." ”

"What you hear will determine where you go when you get started, and you should not be taken lightly. Beitang Yi interjected.

Duan Ling preemptively said: "Walking in the world, it is like fog condensing on pine needles, one step at a time." ”

Bai Ling looked at the pure-minded Baoyu and asked, "What about you?"

"As far as I've seen, cows have their own way of grazing. ”

"Nonsense, how can the cow lead to the road. Duan Ling couldn't help but scold.

"You are really pure-minded, different from ordinary people, I am happy for Twilight. ”

Everyone turned their eyes to Qingwen, but saw that he was worried.

"I didn't hear anything, really. Who would have expected Qingwen to throw out such an answer. It didn't look like he was lying.

Bai Ling smiled faintly: "That's right, in fact, there is no mystery in this fog." ”

"But I heard it. Duan Ling said eagerly.

Baoyu also defended herself: "I heard it too. ”

"What you two heard is true, this is the beauty of this Listening to the Fog Pavilion. You don't need to think about it. ”

Qingwen closed her eyes and sighed: "After so many years, there is still no innovation in this set. ”

Bai Ling sat cross-legged on the spot, and the sound of the stream and the wind disappeared immediately. After the sound dissipated, Bai Ling's body emitted bursts of strange fragrance, which could make it refreshed even if it was smelled repeatedly.

Qingwen leaned on the listening fog pavilion to close her eyes and recuperate, and listened carefully again, but still found nothing.

"Duan Ling must rush to the West Peak before falling down the mountain, and the disciples of the West Peak will come to greet him. Bai Ling said in unison: "Baoyu and Qingwen followed Beitang Yi to the North Cliff. ”

"Why, I went to the West Peak alone, but the two of them were able to stay in the main peak. ”

"Don't you know, although the West Peak is only the lower courtyard of my Fushan Sect, but my Fushan World walks all from the West Peak. It's better for you to go there. Beitang Yi explained to Duan Ling.

Duan Ling heard the words "walking in the world", and his eyes suddenly flashed.

"It's time for us to go up the mountain. Baoyu woke up Qingwen.

Qingwen opened her eyes, and at this time, a bluestone bridge appeared above the dry stream. The bridge is made of a single piece of bluestone, and the ends of the bridge are not grounded, making it look like it is suspended from the ground.

"After crossing this Cangsheng Bridge, it's my person from Fushan. Even the emperor of Chang'an City, who stood at the pinnacle of power, could not come here to ask for someone. Bai Ling said and glanced at Qingwen.

The second half of the sentence is undoubtedly what Qingwen wants to hear the most over the years.

After crossing the bridge, a sword light flew from the sky, and along with the sword light came a young man with a long sword on his back with clear eyebrows.

The young man is the eldest disciple of the Xifeng Ji Qingfeng Sect, and he is also a new generation of people walking in the world of Fushan, and he is as taciturn as Baoyu.

Duan Ling rode with the dragon to the west peak, and Qingwen and Baoyu once again set foot on the straight mountain road with no end in sight.

The mountain road follows the stream, and is shaded by green pines on both sides, which is particularly quiet.

The two followed Beitangyi for a long time, but the dry stream never became smaller.

The higher you go, the more open it becomes, and the stone steps become more and more worn. When he was about to arrive at Nanjian Ganxi Palace, Beitang Yi suddenly urged the buffalo to go faster and faster.

Baoyu had to trot to keep up, trotting a few steps and suddenly stopped, only to find that instead of speeding up, Qingwen was sitting on the smooth stone steps with her legs spread.

"I really can't walk, take a break, you go first. Qingwen said to Baoyu, who looked at her and didn't know what to say.

Beitang Yi asked the buffalo to stop, intending to urge Qingwen, who was lazier than herself, but it seemed to be too late.

When he jumped off the back of the ox, a sword light flew out of Ganxi Palace and stopped on the mountain road.

That sword light was like a warm light, from the beginning to the dissipation of less than a blink of an eye.

Qingwen casually watched as the sword light stopped in front of her eyes.

The sword qi dissipated, and a withered old man was only seven steps away from him.

。 m.