"Seven-tailed Luanbird?" Yun Mengdao repeated expressionlessly, and then said, "I've seen her." ”

"I don't know if you can tell me about his whereabouts, I'm grateful." Mo Hua said respectfully.

"I know where she is." Yunmeng Daoist said slowly, "I locked her in the Dream Pavilion and suppressed the ancient beast - the nine-headed Xiangliu for me. ”

There was no trace of emotion in his voice, as if he were just a bystander, or an emotionless storyteller telling a painless story to an insignificant passer-by.

The ink painting glowed with starlight in the palm of his hand, but it disappeared in an instant. He looked directly at the Yunmeng Immortal and said in a deep voice: "I am willing to use my life's cultivation to help the immortals suppress the fierce beast, can I no longer embarrass my wife?" ”

Yunmeng Immortal slowly shook his head, still expressionless, and said: "I will die soon, and it is far more secure than other ways to seal the soul of the ancient beast with the soul of the ancient beast." ”

"I originally planned to use my own cultivation to reshape the seal, but she suddenly appeared here, everything is determined by fate, and it is really not human to violate."

"I have advocated this way all my life, peeping at the stars and exploring life, seeking good fortune and avoiding evil." Mo Hua said slowly, "This time, I want to change my life against the sky." ”

Before the words fell, the cherry blossom wooden brush was already in the palm of the hand, and the bright starlight sprinkled on the tip of the pen, swinging like a blade, and the stars were like a blade.

"How can the body of a scattered immortal shake the power of an immortal?" The Yunmeng Immortal was still expressionless, and the Qinglin Canglong under him gathered the wind as a blade, eroding the starlight.

With a test blow, the ink painting carried the brush behind him, and said in a deep voice: "The power of the immortals, I sigh to myself." It's just that I don't know if the heirs of Mengze Sect can reach the immortals? ”

"What do you mean by that?" For the first time, there was a slight fluctuation in the tone of the Yunmeng Immortal.

"The immortals have been feathered, and the time to come to the world is short." Mo Hua paused and continued, "However, how can you not avenge your imprisonment of my wife? ”

"Mortals are always in the way, and the father's debts are paid by the son. Your debt will be paid by the disciples and grandchildren of Mengzezong. ”

The ink painting is written with a stroke, and the stars are shining. Yunmeng Immortal raised his eyes and looked into the distance, and what the pen pointed to was the cloud of Mengze Sect.

The clouds that have not dispersed for many years are now full of stars like frost, the ink painting has not fallen, and the starlight is condensed and like a front. Yunmeng Immortal had no doubt that if he flew to the Heavenly Realm, he would instantly condense the starlight into a sword and slaughter thousands of living beings in the Mengze Sect.

"Are you really willing to use your life's cultivation to help me suppress the beast?" Yunmeng Immortal finally relented.

Mohua put away the cherry blossom wooden brush and said, "Please don't embarrass my wife again." ”

"Do you know that if you lose your cultivation, you won't even be able to withstand the Nine Heavenly Tribulations?" Yunmeng Immortal asked.

"I know." Ink painting.

"Is that okay?"

"It doesn't matter."

Yunmeng Immortal let out a long sigh, his gaze was far away, as if he remembered a longer past.

"Come with me." Yunmeng Immortal waved his hand in the direction of Mengze Sect, and all those hanging starlights dissipated, and he walked with the dragon and stopped in the sky above the Dream Pavilion.

The ink painting followed, standing side by side with the Yunmeng Immortal.

With a wave of his sleeves, the wall of the Dream Pavilion slowly cracked, like two doors opening from the left and right.

The Yunmeng Immortal floated to the ground, and at the same time, a rainbow-colored hole cracked in the space around him, and the Qinglin Canglong jumped into it and disappeared.

The ink painting took away the starlight under his feet, fell aside, and walked into the Dream Pavilion with the Yunmeng Immortals one after the other.

The Dream Pavilion in the Memories of the Stars in the ink painting is slightly different from what the demon sees. The difference is that the pillars are not carved with the pattern of a seven-tailed bird, but only four bare pillars.

Luan'er's whole body was shrouded in a faint milky white halo at this moment, she was lying flat on the stone floor between the four pillars, her eyes were closed, her hands were clasped in front of her chest, and her face was serene.

Mo Hua walked quickly to Luan'er's side, and he leaned down to shake her hand. However, the moment his fingers touched the back of Luan'er's hand, his face changed greatly.

Mo Hua quickly stood up, and when he turned around, he just happened to see the backward figure of the Yunmeng Immortal.

Countless pillars of pale golden light fell from the sky, just as Luan'er trapped in the middle of it, trapping the ink painting inside. Under the blessing of the Dream Pavilion, the stars slashed out by the ink painting were all swallowed up by those countless golden flames.

"Why did you destroy her flesh?" The ink painting glared at the Yunmeng Immortal and asked.

"Her body was not destroyed by me, but by her own burning spirit." Yunmeng Immortal is humane.

"Lies!" Once again, the ink painting condensed the power of the stars on the tip of the pen, and slashed down towards the golden pillar of light in front of him, and more golden flames burst out from the clash.

Yunmeng Immortal looked at the scene in front of him, shook his head, and retreated silently.

The entrance to the Dream Pavilion slowly closed, and endless darkness swept in, like a silent tide.

A memory fell, Luan'er's clenched palm was left behind in the cool wind, and the silver points of light floated and fell, like stars and seas, and fireflies swaying.

Another memory arose, and the body of the ink painting began to gradually shroud in the color of stars.

In the Dream Pavilion, the ink painting condenses the starlight into a dagger, and on the pillar, carves a piece of floating life like a dream.

In the dream, they all look like seven-tailed birds.

He carefully hid Luan'er's dissipating soul power in each relief, and then nourished it with the power of his own stars.

Finally, he carefully hid every wisp of soul power that Luan'er had escaped, and his long black hair was dyed with frost and snow. He looked at the lifelike column carvings and realized for the first time what it meant to be a painter.

If it can protect your soul from extinction, what does it matter if it is a white head overnight?

"Luan'er, I think you must not know that the appearance of the seven-tailed Luanniao incarnated as an adult is determined by heaven rather than artificial." The ink painting leaned against one of the pillars, her fingertips brushing her tail, gentle and lonely.

The stone slabs on the soles of his feet began to vibrate, golden charms emerged, and angry and painful roars came from the depths of the earth, like a hundred ghosts crying at night on the banks of the Lethe River.

"But it's just a nine-headed willow, and I'll suppress it for you." The ink painting was transformed into a starlight, half infused with golden charms on the stone slabs, and half dotted on the pitch-black roof of the Dream Pavilion, like a starry sky.

The shaking of the earth was gone, the golden spell was gone, and all that remained of the vast pavilion was a sea of stars.

When you wake up, I want you to see not endless darkness, but a starlight. Just like what you see every day when you fall into the Star Cliff.

There is starlight, and this is where you and I get along day and night.

With starlight, with you, it is my hometown.

It's just that when you see all this, maybe I'm gone.