In the next few days, Wang Anfeng immersed himself in cultivation.

Seventy-two years of Broken Soul in the increasingly dense and fierce battle, has already entered, the sword shadow breaks through the air, sharp and complicated, and the hundred poisons do not invade the mixed element body has also reached the limit that his current physique can reach, no matter how strong it is, it will be harmful to his body, and the gains outweigh the losses.

Maybe it's because the medicinal bath hasn't been completed for a long time, and the medicinal power hasn't been dissipated.

There was always a faint smell of medicine around the young man, which caused the scribe to look coldly.

Practicing and resting at night, during the day in the Fufeng School Palace, Wang Anfeng walked around the palace, and sometimes met Gu Jianzhang and others, walking with each other, talking about current affairs, and gradually getting acquainted.

Although he is nominally a bookkeeper in Fufeng, this Fengzilou is actually completely the world of Ren Lao, and there is no difference between him and his absence.

Su Wenchang, a gambler from the Yin and Yang family who opened last time, once said with a smile that his real name should be called a sweeper of the library building, and the word book collection is not for duty, but a local name, far inferior to his colleagues in ancient times, and he can only laugh helplessly.

It seems like that's really the case.

Fufeng School Palace was founded in Confucianism, and although there were various schools of thought in it, the basic building was still the Six Palaces.

Etiquette, music, shooting.

Royal, book, number.

Rites and law have always been the same, there is no difference thousands of years ago, learn the palace disciples, need to know the law of this world, follow the ancient rites, understand the tune of silk and bamboo, hold a bow can wear a hundred steps through Yang, hold a sword can get out with a white blade, since the soldiers entered the palace, the atmosphere of the two palaces of the imperial shooting is gradually flourishing, and there is a place for martial arts to be set up for the disciples to fight each other with swords and show what they have learned.

Wang Anfeng has been to the place where martial arts are performed several times, and once he walked with Gu Jianzhang and others and met the steward of that place.

It was a middle-aged man in a gray shirt, and he was also a wonderful person who could whet people's appetites anytime and anywhere.

His mouth seemed to be eating all the time, obviously it was just an ordinary snack, but he ate it very temptingly, as if it was the first taste in the world, mouth-watering, sometimes dried fruit, sometimes fried crispy peanuts, the heat was not dissipated, sprinkled with some fine salt, it was best to drink.

While chewing two grains in his mouth, he poured soft rice wine, leaned on the Taishi chair, and his posture was elegant and uninhibited, but the Confucian shirt was always stained with a piece of oil on it, and it looked sloppy, which was really a strange thing to help the wind and perform martial arts.

And during this time, there is still a strange new one, that is, the Fufeng book keeper.

Most of the people who come here are willing to show what they have learned, but the young man in the blue shirt often comes, but he never plays.

Obviously holding a sword, but he always says that he is not good at swordsmanship.

Pingsu just talked to the Confucian steward, and then he didn't know what to think, but one day he brought a stove.

Cut the fine ribs into three strips, boil over high heat, whisk off the foam and take it out, then put hot oil, wrap the ribs that are cut into squares with green onions, ginger and garlic, put in the oil while it is hot, stir-fry and add water, with a very shrewd whip lock kung fu, pull out most of the charcoal, by the way, cut the taro, radish, lotus root, yam into small pieces, put them together, and simmer them only over low heat.

While talking softly to the steward, asking some questions that had not been finished before, and putting some powder to taste, the middle-aged Confucian secretly swallowed his saliva, his eyes were green, the three souls and seven spirits had already been hooked away by the food, and there was only one gluttonous soul left, the gluttonous soul, a pair of eyes looking directly at the black pot, the young man answered whatever he asked, all in detail.

Wang Anfeng nodded again and again, and the incomprehension in his heart disappeared, and at the same time, he carried a tattered pu fan in his right hand, fanning it gently, the pure white soup bubbled and rolled, and the mellow aroma spread like a cloud on the martial arts field.

The thunder did not stop, and he hid his face and fled.

The hatred is itching, but this place is under the management of the house, and the Confucian students don't speak, so what can they do.

After this day, the god of the martial arts stove collected the book, and became famous in the Fufeng School Palace.

The soldier in the hand, first because the boy lost all his silver for two months, even used only one-third of the usual toilet straw paper, and his daily use was frugal to the point that those who heard it wept and those who saw it were sad, and then because he failed to eat, he fell into a thunderous cry during the competition.

I can't wait to find an opportunity to slash the 'martial arts god' in the martial arts arena.

But at this time, there was a crazy rumor outside'Playing the Martial Stove God', and the interesting story of 'Thunder in the Belly', he was born in a family, it was best to be cheeky, where is he willing to go out again, just hold the gun every day, lie upright on the bed, and reduce consumption and save money.

Today, after a meal of meat, I was lying on the bed, and suddenly someone pushed the door in, shouting:

"In the womb, no, Xiu Wei, the god of martial arts is gone again!"

The voice paused, and then exclaimed:

"Carrying the stove!"

The soldier's disciple's eyes instantly opened, and he gritted his teeth.

On the martial arts field, the Confucian student sat on the Taishi chair, sitting indistinctly, snoring like thunder, Wang Anfeng chuckled, put the pot stove in his hand on the soil aside, the eight-sided Han sword was still in the sheath, tied to the young man's back, the scabbard was simple, just like the clothes on his body.

took the initiative to learn swords, in order to get rid of their suspicions.

But you can't make a rash move, Mr. Jiang once said that everything is natural.

Being too deliberate can also lead to suspicion.

You shouldn't take the initiative.

It is natural to arouse the curiosity of others, challenge yourself again and again, and then take action.

Although he came, he did not come to the stage, and he was not good at swordsmanship, but he never left his sword.

Although his swordsmanship is simply dirty to the eyes in Mr. Win's mouth, it is complicated and his boxing skills are acceptable, which is enough to complete his expectations......

At this time, Wang Anfeng seemed to agree to the difficulty, quietly and carefully completing his plan.

The incarnation is difficult to peace, holding a sword and stepping for three thousand miles for several months, after all, it is impossible to pass through the bamboo like the wind, without leaving the slightest trace, since there is blood on the hands, that is to set foot in the rivers and lakes, since you have set foot in the rivers and lakes, there is no turning back.

The people in the rivers and lakes have the ability, and the people in the rivers and lakes have the human heart, and they still want to return to the Daliang Mountain, cut down trees and feed the pigs, and it is a delusion in this life.

Gains and losses, after all, are a thought.

When the stove gradually rose, there were bursts of aroma, and the young man smiled, holding a fan in his hand, and fanned the aroma towards the middle-aged man.

When he was chatting in the martial arts arena, he found that although this steward was sloppy, he had learned a lot, knew almost everything, but his temperament was very tight.

The words are fascinating, but he always stops his mouth in the middle of speaking, and he doesn't speak, and the young man can't ask again and again, so he has to make this decision.

This is the medicinal porridge taught by the second master.

The boy snickered in his heart.

The fragrance was pervasive, the sleeping Confucian nose moved slightly, his eyes trembled, he opened his eyes, his body stretched, he stretched lazily, his eyes were not yet open, with three points of sleepiness, he lazily groaned:

"A gluttonous dream, let it be cold. Salty party affairs, sweet party talks, diners rivers and mountains. ”

"The pine mash pours white heads, and the sorghum meat becomes a grand spectacle. Hahaha, I woke up from a dream and it was just time to eat. ”

In the laughter, he had already appeared beside the boy.

Like a dream, it is obviously a very clever method, Confucian eyes narrowed, took a deep breath of the aroma, and reveled: "Good smell, good things, good things, little madman, bring me a bowl." ”

"Juniors aren't crazy."

The young man gritted his teeth in response, but he was also a little curious about the condition, so his right hand wiped from his waist, and a large iron spoon used to scoop porridge shook off an afterimage, and held it in his hand.

At this time, there was a sudden sound of hurried footsteps, and then the evil wind broke through the air, pointing directly at Wang Anfeng's shoulder, and the accident happened suddenly, the young man instinctively avoided the footsteps, and raised the iron spoon in his hand.

In front of the pot, the faces of the two men, who were originally intoxicated, suddenly became sluggish.

A young soldier in red and silver armor raised his sword eyebrows, his eyes seemed to be a flame rising, and he shouted:

"Wang Anfeng, come and fight with me quickly!"

Breathing out of his heart, the spear moved slightly, and the ash on his head shook a little, floating on the porridge surface, as if mocking......

"My Medicine Porridge ......"