In the meditation hall at the summit, many senior monks sit cross-legged on the futon, forming a semicircle, listening to the dead wood master in front of them preach the Dharma.

The master of the deadwood has all white hair, his face is like a withered tree, and when his eyes are lowered, he looks like a terminally ill old man, and his vitality has been cut off.

However, when he raised his eyes, those eyes would bloom with a strange brilliance, and the temperament of the whole person would also change drastically.

When it comes to the deep part of the Dharma, the master shows a compassionate and compassionate attitude, and the Dharma is smart, and the master has a smile on his face, like a naughty boy with drooping hair.

The sound of Buddha surrounds the beam, and the room is full of vividness.

The eminent monks and a young monk were fascinated by the hearing and marveled in their hearts.

The master of the deadwood who has no self, no one, no sentient beings, no longevity, and can break through the fourth merit phase is the real great freedom.

Outside the meditation hall, a young monk walked up quickly, whispered a few words in the ear of the deadwood master, and then handed the master a roll of paper.

The master opened the scroll of paper, read the poem on it, and couldn't help laughing: "This is unintentional, and it is just a matter of explaining his own intentions, and it is also involved in a public case." ”

Immediately, he handed the poem written by Ye Changsheng to a senior monk in the next one.

The senior monk smiled and said nothing, and handed it to the next monk, and it was in the hands of the young monk for a moment.

The young monk was dressed in a white robe, with short hair and a dragon stick lying on his knees.

Just looking at the outfit, it is a little similar to Wuzhen, but his face is more upright and soft, and he has a little more affinity than Wuzhen, who is paralyzed.

One of the Buddhas of the Fayan Sect, Wuchen, looked at the poetry with a curious face, and said with a smile: "I have long heard that Uncle Daoyun has said that Ye Changsheng has a unique wisdom, but he has no intention of practicing Buddhism. ”

Master Deadwood looked at Wuchen: "Then according to you, is he or not?"

Wuchen said calmly: "This poem is simple and fresh, straightforward and straightforward, and has its own realm. Besides, the Buddha plucked the flowers, and the leaves smiled, since it is a public case, then it is okay or not. ”

"Is that right?" said Master Deadwood, looking around at the group.

The monks smiled and nodded, Wuchen said to the point, Ye Changsheng is a person with his own opinions, compared with those Buddhist cultivators who are confined to the scriptures and righteousness themselves, and only know how to sing praises and virtues, they make judgments.

An old man dressed as a head joked: "If the master doesn't let him pass, how can he find the jade carving for the next level?"

Master Deadwood laughed, "That's right, but!"

The little monk standing on the side looked dazed, and it wasn't until the deadwood master said "yes" that his eyes lit up, put away the poem, and trotted out.

"Ye Wuxin, this assessment has passed!" In the courtyard of the magnolia tree, the red-clothed monk said, glanced at Ye Changsheng meaningfully, and turned to leave.

Lu Lingjun, who was anxiously waiting, first paused for a moment, and then cheered and said, "Great!"

"What, a crooked poem, can even pass?!" the teenagers also reacted, and there was an uproar.

Chen Xinfang looked at Lu Lingjun's smile like a flower, and couldn't help but feel anger in his heart, as well as an indescribable sense of frustration.

Ye Changsheng was approved, isn't that saying that his previous comments on that poem were all?

Anger is anger, but he and the other teenagers don't have the courage to go to the red-clothed monk for theory, and can only vent it through various words.

However, what made the teenagers even more angry was that Ye Changsheng didn't pay attention to them at all, but stood up and drifted away.

Chen Xinfang looked at Ye Changsheng's back, and laughed angrily: "A straw bag is a straw bag, this time he was lucky to pass the level, and the next level, he will still die ugly!"

The young man beside him hurriedly echoed: "What Brother Chen said is extremely true, this bastard can't even write a poem, he must be a vulgar martial artist, how can he have special talents?"

"The higher you climb, the worse you fall, that's the kind of person you're talking about!"

......

Chicken feathers, the people who should leave will leave after all, and the people who should go to the second level have finally rushed to the courtyard of the second level.

The second level is a talent competition.

The large open-air courtyard is divided into three parts by soundproof screens, and more than 60 teenagers also enter the corresponding area.

Lu Lingjun played the gonghou, Chen Xinfang played the flute, some cut paper, some arranged flowers, some showed tea art, and some painted on the spot.

Ye Changsheng sat at a small table, a little dumbfounded.

On the small table, there were three fine pieces of mutton fat jade, each two feet high, and a painting pressed under each seat.

It was still the red-clothed monk from before, and he glanced at Ye Changsheng quietly, and after the two of them staggered their eyes, they staggered their gazes as if nothing had happened.

I wanted to play the flute.

Ye Changsheng looked at the mutton fat jade on the desk, smiled helplessly, and had to put away the bamboo flute and take out the black carving knife.

In the first painting, the Venerable Kasa is dressed in a mandala flower and enters the Jizu Mountain.

In the second painting, Guanyin Bodhisattva stands on auspicious clouds, holding a net bottle in one hand and a wicker in the other.

In the third painting, a shrine maiden with a human face and a snake body, she is mending the sky with multicolored divine stones.

Ye Changsheng sat still, constantly conceiving the carved picture in his mind, trying to show the beauty of the statue from all angles.

Unconsciously, in the incense burner on the table, a stick of incense has already gone halfway.

At a certain moment, his eyes lifted upward, and he picked up a piece of mutton fat jade, and the blade of the carving knife met it.

The jade powder flowed down, and the black carving knife became faster and faster, dancing out of a black afterimage, wrapping the white jade.

The eyes of the teenagers watching around were straight, as if they were sucked in, and they could no longer look away.

Unexpectedly, this guy's carving is so powerful!

No, not only the carver, but his cultivation must also be very high, otherwise he would not be able to swing the carving knife so fast.

Bar, a young man's paused pen tip, a bit of cinnabar fell on the picture, and a pair of ink landscapes were ruined.

The boy groaned and began to make amends.

The other teenagers woke up from a dream and quickly looked away and began to go about their own business.

The green smoke curls, and the carving knife flies.

Ye Changsheng had already stood up, his expression focused, immersed in the realm of carving.

He had been practicing in the ice cave of Shura Peak for many days, and he had already consolidated the realm of the peak of the Spirit Transformation Realm, and he was only half a step away from the Supreme Realm.

If he wanted, he could swallow that Transformation Pill at any time and advance to the Supreme Realm.

The improvement of cultivation and the improvement of the realm have brought his carving skills to a higher level again and improved a lot.

In the past, he would not have been able to conceive three jade carvings at the same time, and he would have been able to do it like a god.

Just a moment before a stick of incense burned out, Ye Changsheng's knife finally stopped.

The last trace of jade powder fell, and Ye Changsheng's pale face showed a bright smile.

Sure enough, I have improved a lot, and these three jade carvings are probably my current pinnacle work!