Ling Huan's fingertips popped up one by one, the style is elegant, this world has never appeared, and it is not the cursive penmanship of Ling Huan's calligraphy. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 infoThis is his handwritten poems and texts in accordance with the memories of his previous life, copying Huang Gongwang's calligraphy.

In just a few lines, when the poem was formed, it suddenly rushed to the sky, and condensed into a dazzling balloon with those inscriptions. This ball of light was so powerful that it made the entire sky tremble, and it rushed towards Taizun in an instant.

Taizun let out a terrible scream, and fled in horror, when the ball of light roared, "bang", smashed into the top of the mountain, the mountain peak shook violently, and a huge abyss appeared directly.

In this deep abyss, billowing black smoke erupted, escaping into the head of Taizun in the distance. But Taizun was screaming again and again, as if he had been hit hard. In the scream, Taizun's head shrank again, leaving only a little more than the size of a zhang. Underneath the skull, a black blurred body appeared.

"You can drive the aura in the painting, you can make the painting resonate. This painting is the inheritance of my Bei'an family in ancient times, how do you know the essence of this painting, how do you know this. Taizun trembled, and his eyes were full of hideous halberds and chewed his tongue.

But in the depths of his eyes, there was a hint of hidden and obvious horror.

When the black smoke in the abyss dissipated, the highest mountain collapsed violently, and there was an extremely vicissitudes of voice in it, rumbling: "Thank you, little brother, thank you, you can awaken the old man's mind." The old man has been for a long time, I don't know if you have a table, and if you have any requirements, the old man can try his best to meet you. ”

"The boy Ling Huan is still young and has not taken the words. Boss Huang, you don't have to be like this. The boy got an axe, copied your calligraphy and painting, and asked for forgiveness, and didn't dare to ask for it. Ling Huan's eyes lit up, and he hugged his fists and stepped forward, deeply and shyly responded.

"Hehe......" The voice smiled heartily and said approvingly: "Brother Huan doesn't have to be like this, it is not easy for you to copy the old man's handwriting and make the old man's mind awaken." In this way, the old man will fulfill you and send you a creation.

However, before that, the old man still had a reluctant request, this painting was the old man's life's work, but now it is polluted. Please also Brother Huan, you try to expel the aliens who defile this painting, and paint a beautiful artistic conception. There was a hint of imperceptible cunning in his tone.

"Lord Huang Gong, please rest assured, this painting is my peerless treasure in China, and it is also your painstaking work, even if the kid is broken, let this painting return to its original appearance. Ling Huan's expression was solemn, and he bowed deeply again, and his tone was resolute.

"So very good, so very good. This vicissitudes of life sound is very pleasant and authentic.

In this painting, there is still a trace of thought. Taizun's body trembled, his expression was frightened, but he sneered coldly: "This painting is the heirloom treasure of my Bei'an family, where is it a Chinese thing, boy, you don't want to talk nonsense, and you won't be ...... to die."

When the voice came out, Taizun's body rushed forward violently, turning into a black afterimage, and swept towards Ling Huan viciously.

Before his figure arrived, the powerful momentum overwhelmed Ling Huan and the others. Even if he didn't borrow the power in the painting, it was not something that Ling Huan at this moment could compete with Yin Youmei.

Ling Huan retreated to his original position, with an indifferent expression, stretched out his hand to brush the strings, and the words sounded, and words appeared again on his fingertips, which were actually Ling Huan's own hard pen calligraphy, not a suitable cursive penmanship.

Now that Huang Gongwang's mind has awakened, there is no need to draw snakes to add more, as long as the poem is written by Huang Gongwang, it is enough to arouse the resonance of the aura in the painting and resist Taizun's attack.

"The rain and clouds are blue, and the sky is high and clear. The frost maple is red, and the waterfall is long. Xiuling vast scenery, rivers and lakes are vast. Those who should know the lying clouds, Xi Shang avoids Qin's name. ”

When these words appeared, the space vibrate, and countless mysterious forces converged, and one by one, the words, like a mountain, with afterimages, rolled towards Taizun, and when the roar was monstrous, it continued to bombard Taizun's body.

Taizun screamed and retreated, and where he passed, it seemed that the sky was falling apart. And Taizun was trembling, and his body was gradually withering and crumbling, as if he was out of step with this world, and was in danger of collapsing at any time.

Taizun and Bei'an Pingju, as well as those black-clothed warriors who were hiding in the shadows, and even Yin Youmei, were all shocked. It seems that in the world in this painting, Ling Huan is the master, flicking his fingers to destroy the sky, stomping his feet to shatter the earth.

Only Ling Huan is here, still calm, and his fingertips continue to burst out, with an amazing poem: "The Han lord left the palace at the top, and he served Cuihua in the past." The blue sky is half set in the Milky Way water, and the white sun hangs high in Huayue autumn. Hua Yinyi Luan Lin Pavilion Road, moving Xiao Feng to Yingzhou. The three mountains are outside Qizhou, and the smoke is floating at nine o'clock in the distance. ”

This poem is Huang Gongwang, the poem of Fuchun Mountain Residence, as soon as this poem comes out, the heaven and the earth roar, like the end of the world. Those black-clothed warriors with low cultivation, in the screams, appeared in their figures, as if they were squeezed, and disappeared into this world in an instant.

That Taizun shrank more and more under the continuous bombardment, and finally only the size of a palm remained. There is no trace of white on the body, it is completely shrouded in black, and it will not last long before it will be blasted out of this painting.

With a look of resentment in his eyes, he stared at Ling Huan from afar, trembling, constantly roaring, but he couldn't change the fact that it existed. In the next breath, he wailed, with unwillingness, and infinite coercion, and when it suddenly came out, he rushed towards Bei'an Pingju.

In this rolling wail, there was a terrible scream of Bei'an Pingju: "Taizun, what are you going to do, my body is too weak, can't you take it away......"

Bei'an Pingju's voice was still echoing, but the person had disappeared in trembling, obviously squeezed out of the world in the painting by the strong pressure.

At the same time, those words disappeared, the abyss in the distance shook violently, the highest mountain turned into ashes, and a line of inscriptions appeared in the same place, the penmanship was vigorous and powerful, which was the original inscription of the Fuchun Mountain Residence Map.

When the words were formed between heaven and earth, everything was harmonious and calm, and there was a trace of strange energy, entering Ling Huan's soul sea. The painting seed in the sea of souls instantly grew larger, and it made a joyful sound, like a small sun, suspended above the sea of souls, shining brightly.

Is this what Huang Gongwang gave me, I thought that this mountain dwelling map would be given to me as a horcrux. Ling Huan smashed his mouth, and couldn't help but ponder in a heartbeat.

Suddenly, the heavens and the earth shook violently again, and shrank rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the mountains and rivers squeezed, rolling towards Ling Huan and Yin Youmei.

"It's not good, they are collecting paintings, they are going to trap us here. Yin Youmei grabbed Ling Huan's big hand, looked at everything in front of her in horror, and said anxiously.

She was originally shocked that Ling Huan could write the poems of the original owner of this painting and know the secret of this painting, but at this moment, she no longer had the heart to experience this, the suffocating crisis has come, if she is imprisoned here, the consequences will be unimaginable.

"Lord Huang Gong, look, I have helped you drive away the Japanese people, are you trying to find a way to send us out?" Ling Huan nodded hurriedly, took the magic qin, and bowed in the direction of the text, full of hope.

But what is unassuming is that the other party did not react much, as if this world no longer exists.

My day, what exists here is also an obsession of Huang Gongwang, not his real thoughts. That Taizun can pollute and manipulate this painting, and become the soul of this painting, I am afraid that it has a lot to do with it.

Ling Huan's mouth was bitter, and a strong pressure abruptly appeared. Oh, Lao Tzu was tricked by Huang Gongwang, and if he knew this, Lao Tzu would first squeeze himself and Mei'er out of here.

He completely understood that while he was squeezing out Taizun and others, he made it here, recognizing the existence of himself and Yin Youmei, so that wanting to go out was like erasing a landscape from a painting, it was as difficult as climbing to the sky.

Suddenly, his tangled brow suddenly relaxed, and his eyes lit up, remembering what had happened to the earth, the painting was almost burned, but in the end it became two pieces of history. If I burn it with fire, will I find a crack and leave this world safely?

With a glint of joy in his eyes, he took out the holy sword and clashed against a large rock beside him. There was no spark splash in the screeching sound.

(To be continued.) )