"Master, my apprentice, is so ...... at the moment"

After a while, Poinsettia Plum raised her head. Thinking about the other reason for this visit, he spoke very smoothly.

Soon, Han Chan understood the other purpose of Poinsettia Plum's visit this time.

His kind face gradually became a little more positive. After a while, he sat up straight, and Poinsettia followed him into the depths of the room.

Every corner of the eaves snow smoke garden is a dim and light light. Walking to the inner room, Han Chan stopped in front of a row of shelves that resembled a chest of medicine drawers.

The shiny wood lacquer glows slightly in the light of the lamp. Han Chan opened one of the lattices and brought out a small porcelain jar from it.

Poinsettia Mei's gaze shifted between each movement of Han Zen at any time. When he saw the jar, his heart sank.

"According to what you said, if that kid is really the True Yuan of the Lord Cloud Stream, the Snow Cloud Pill in this is indeed of great help to him." Han Chan paused slightly, and then said, "It can even dissolve his excess Tai Sui true qi and make up for the shortcomings." ”

Poinsettia Mei's pupils shrank, and she looked at the jar hesitantly: "Master, I didn't come here to ask for Dan. Xue Yun Dan is extremely precious to the master, just ask for a few points of cultivation guidance for that child. ”

Han Chan shook his head slightly. As if in a state of flux, his gaze stayed on Poinsettia for a moment, and then slowly moved towards nothingness.

"You know, it's going to help the kid better." He couldn't help but open the mouth of the jar, poured out a blue glowing elixir from it, and handed it to Poinsettia Plum. Then put the jar back and walk outside.

Poinsettia Mei stared at the lovely elixir in her hand, hesitated slightly, and then followed Han Zen.

The further you go, the brighter the lights become. The two walked slowly, each thinking in their hearts.

“…… It's just a pill. Even if it's a return gift for your visit. Han Chan suddenly said, "What's more, if you want this kid to speed up his cultivation and not help the seedlings grow, I have to let him temper more." ”

Poinsettia Plum smiled bitterly and sighed: "I still feel ashamed." I thanked the master on behalf of the boy. ”

"Not necessarily." Unexpectedly, Han Chan waved his hand, "The era of suffering is coming again, and having one more child like this is also to leave one more hope in this world." ”

Poinsettia nodded.

The two walked out of the inner room and came to the front of the hall again, but they saw a large table, spreading out a scroll of rice paper, and painting the crazy dream Su Sheng was pouring ink on the place.

The cold air in the air penetrated a trace of ink, but it was difficult to see a little artistic atmosphere when looking at Meng Susheng's rather unbearable painting posture.

However, looking at his paintings, as opposed to his personal image, one can't help but be secretly shocked.

I saw a large pen like a rafter, dipped in thick ink like hair, and a row of turbulent waves was spread out quickly. The free and easy ink drops are like the foam of the sea, stirring back and forth, generous and magnificent, but also terrifying.

At the top of the picture, the sky has been repeatedly painted a dull dark gray. The maniac's eyes seemed to have some excited looks, and a pen was bitten between his teeth, and it had bitten out deep tooth marks.

"This is ......" Poinsettia Plum watched behind him, considering the artistic conception of the painting.

But Han Zen is a little more keen. He saw six stones next to the table, irregular in shape, but in some order.

"Hmm......" he said thoughtfully. Silently gazing at the figure of the madness of the painter, waiting for the final stroke.

The painting maniac has his hands flying, and there are three or four pens between his fingers, and he keeps depicting "swish".

Soon, on a long piece of rice paper, a magnificent and terrifying gloomy sea chart has been created.

He seems to be happy with his work. "Bang Lala" dropped the extra pen, leaving only the thinnest one, lit the ink on the inkstone, and quickly wrote the words "only pen cloud" on the side.

"Only pen cloud ......" poinsettia plum order was pronounced.

Han Chan whispered, "This is his nickname for the Autumn Curtain Painting Banquet. Hmmm......"

By the time the two of them talked, he had done all the work. At last he dropped the pen, and he looked like he was crying, flapping his slender sleeves, laughing and walking away.

"The waves are rising...... The big ship is coming...... Scared to death, get out of the way......"

In the end, only this unknown song was left in the Eaves Snow Smoke Garden.

Poinsettia and Hanzen both walked up to the painting, where the ink was still dry. Looking at the thick and depressed ink in front of him, it seems to indicate that something is coming.

Han Chan's gaze finally fixed on those stones.

He pondered for a moment, then quickly straightened up and looked at the poinsettia plum next to him:

"What are your plans for the future?"

Although the poinsettia plum has not yet understood the intention of the painting, it has vaguely felt the compelling atmosphere of this vast sea, as if coming through the picture, rising monstrous waves.

"I wanted to retire to Pinmei Villa. But now, it seems, is not yet the time. ”

Hearing that the poinsettia plum has mostly understood, Han Zen no longer detours. He was helpless and calm, and chuckled: "That seems to be ...... This is something that needs your attention......"

…………

The river is cold, and the cold crows are flying.

The artemisia grass in Jiangping is withered and white, and a boat comes slowly. In the early morning of the snow, there is only a little lighting left, and the snow in the sky has not stopped, and the sky has turned white.

On top of the snow boat, a familiar figure walked down. He glanced at the lonely building that stood on top of the hill, sneered, and walked briskly up.

The mountain slopes are slippery, and when the Subetsu branch knocks on the door of the snow jade small building, it has been a few moments.

But at first no one opened the door for him. From time to time, there was a clanging knock in the room, so loud that it easily drowned out the knock on the door.

Su Beizhi knocked several times in a row, and the people in the room ignored it. Seeing that the snow was getting heavier and heavier, and he was about to turn into a snowman, he had to shout continuously: "Zhuo Yulang! There's someone outside your door! ”

At this moment, the knocking in the room stopped. Soon the door opened, and it was a man of Su Bezhi's age wearing a white sweat scarf.

"Ouch, the ancients said that the crying child had milk to eat, and it was true." Su Bezhi was already cold outside, and as the door was opened, a warm air flow wrapped around him like a pair of big hands. He hurriedly raised his feet and walked inside.

"On such a snowy day, you have something to do with me?" Zhuo Yulang did not hide the doubts in his heart, closed the door and turned his head and walked back.

The appearance of the snow jade building is exquisite, and the bricks and tiles are as clean as ice and snow. However, when I came in, it was like a small old workshop.

In the corner of the house was a black-ash stove with a blazing flame in it. Because of this, the room is so warm that you can't feel the cold outside.

"I said that you want to imitate some brother nationality in this style?" After Su Bezhi entered the house, he couldn't help but sneer at the white turban on Zhuo Yulang's head.