Different from the Rotten Ke who went to Guanhai Monk to cultivate in a wonderful realm, this middle-aged ascetic monk who stood silently on the side of the morning street drinking water in broken straw shoes, came to Chang'an City with a very clear and clear purpose, that is, to take the opportunity of challenging the people of the academy to abolish or simply kill Ning Que.

Ning Que has not rested for a whole day and a night, has not slept or even sit, he has not eaten a grain of rice or drunk a drop of water, and many emotions have been entangled and entangled, making him extremely tired, facing such a terrible Buddha powerhouse, it seems that no matter how you look at it, there is a reason to die.

When he found out that Sang Sang had run away from home early yesterday morning, and it seemed that he might never see her again, Ning Que met the biggest fear in his life, and even had the urge to die for the first time.

However, Sang Sang was still in Chang'an City, and he finally made a difficult decision, how could he die at such a moment? If he died at this time, wouldn't all the suffering and pain he had experienced before be in vain? If he wanted to die at this time, then he might as well live happily in the red sleeves for a night.

The middle-aged monk wanted to kill him, and he didn't want to die, so he wanted to kill the other party.

The white lotus jade in the sky can't really be Sangsang's little feet after all, so no matter whether it is the stone Buddha or the god hidden behind the rain of flowers, it can't stop him from holding a big black umbrella to go over there.

As long as it wasn't Sangsang that he could never defeat.

Then the gods will kill the gods, and the Buddha will kill the Buddhas.

The big black umbrella is huge, covering the eyes and the sky.

The white lotus flowers slowly floated down, some landed on the thick and greasy black umbrella surface, slowly melting and invisible, some fell on the black umbrella surface, like dew drops falling on the drum surface, snapping and accelerating to the sky and bouncing back, while more white lotus flowers were close to the black umbrella and scattered in fear.

Ning Que held a big black umbrella and walked towards the bloodstained stone Buddha in the distance, his steps were slow and steady, and his demeanor was calm, like a tourist who walked on a lake bridge and wanted to pick willows on the other side.

As he moved, the rain between heaven and earth was disturbed, and tens of thousands of lotus petals escaped in all directions to avoid the slow-moving black umbrella, forming countless turbulent currents.

Tens of thousands of lotus petals whirled and swirled in the air, flying towards the cold and lonely higher air, and then fluttering and falling on the face of the stone Buddha. Because of the sticky blood, once the lotus petals fell, they never flew away, gradually covering the face of the stone Buddha.

The white lotus petals were densely covered on the face of the stone Buddha, and the overlapping edges faintly oozing viscous blood, making these petals appear extraordinarily clear, and they were extremely terrifying because of their density.

Ning Que held a big black umbrella and walked in the rain of lotus flowers that had withered and sparse.

He was getting closer and closer to the stone Buddha.

The middle-aged monk called Dao Shi was indeed very powerful, both in his own cultivation realm and in the use of various methods of Buddhism, and he was even strong to the level of Dao Idiot Ye Hongyu.

However, it is a pity that he is a monk who moves people with Zen thoughts and kills people with Zen thoughts.

And the object he wanted to kill with Zen was Ning Que, Ning Que who was carrying a big black umbrella.

Ning Que didn't have much combat experience with Nian Shi, so he was directly sent into the Lotus Pure Land by the middle-aged monk before, and entered an extremely dangerous situation, but when he relied on his strong and powerful mental power and powerful physical ability after entering the demon, he got through that moment of confusion, and he mastered all the situations.

Theoretically speaking, the Nian Shi is the most terrifying existence among the cultivators of the same realm, but the big black umbrella can isolate the attack of an invisible mental force, so Ning Que, who is holding the big black umbrella, is the nightmare of all the Nian teachers in the world.

Because he had great doubts about the reason why the middle-aged monk sniped him, Ning Que wanted to know the secret behind the scenes, so he would inherit the lotus in the flesh before, and he did not hesitate to use this pain to delay time to ask questions, or maybe he just wanted to make himself more painful? **The pain on the ** can often alleviate some mental pain or boredom, and at this time he is indeed bored to the verge of collapse.

The mind is set, no longer thinking about the rest, and the killing intent on Ning Que's body is fully revealed.

A powerful killing intent passed through the handle of the umbrella he held in his hand, transmitted to the big black umbrella, and then expanded into the space around his body, causing the rain to disperse in fear and cover the bloody face of the stone Buddha.

Because Sang Sang ran away from home, the killing intent on his body brewed from yesterday morning to the sunset, and gradually condensed the horror as he searched in Chang'an City, when he almost overturned the entire Chang'an City, and last night by the night wind on the lakeside was dried to the point that it was as spicy and dry as a sausage.

It can be accompanied by wine, and it can be killed.

Ning Que walked to the foot of the stone Buddha, put the big black umbrella like a knife on his shoulder, and looked up.

The face of the stone Buddha is covered with dense lotus petals, and blood seeps between the petals.

The Buddha's eyes are exposed beyond the petals, but the compassion and anger at the beginning have been replaced by melancholy.

Ning Que looked at the Buddha face full of blood lotus, was silent for a moment, and the right hand hanging by his side was a knife, and he slashed it with a palm from a distance of hundreds of zhang.

There was no sharp sound of breaking the air.

There is no sword qi that spans thousands of miles.

The sparse lotus rain dances gently.

There was no sound in front of the Buddha.

However, there was a great deep scar on the Buddha's face.

The scar was formed from the Buddha's bun and stretched diagonally to the lower left, cutting through the Buddha's lips that seemed to be smiling but not smiling.

Between the knife marks, the lotus flowers crushed into mud, soaked in blood and flowing slowly.

The confusion in the stone Buddha's eyes was quickly replaced by fear and shock.

The lotus petals began to fall off the face of the stone Buddha, and I don't know if it was because of the sticking blood, each petal fell off, and a small stone was involved.

The lotus flower gradually faded, and the original cracks on the Buddha's face became more profound, and they were already full of holes, but the remaining eyebrows, eyes, nose and lips were all cracked and peeled off into a rain of stones, falling towards the ground.

It looks as if the wind and rain have been blowing for tens of millions of years, all condensed in this moment.

The stone Buddha collapsed violently, shaking up a little smoke and dust, and a few lotus petals.

Ning Que stood in front of the stone pile with a large black umbrella.

A movement of the mind is ten thousand miles, that is, ten thousand years.

The battle in the spiritual world has been going on for a long time, but on the real Chang'an Chen Street, time has only passed for a very short moment.

In this moment, the thin monk who committed suicide by caesarean section flowed out of the hot intestines in his left hand, and the pale Chen Pipi thought that Ning Que was dead, and then he decided to break his obsession and rules, and began his bloody battle career of exterminating Buddha.

And after this moment, there is a fresh breeze coming from the streets.

The breeze blew away the hot air coming out of the bun shop, blowing the corners of Ning Que's clothes, blowing his scribbled black hair, and blowing the big black umbrella behind him swaying slightly.

Accompanied by the wind, Ning Que's body exuded a breath, which was full of the fresh taste of life, but it was so proud and confident, powerful and awe-inspiring.

Ning Que opened his eyes and looked at the middle-aged monk beside the shop door.

With this glance, the middle-aged monk made a soft pop between his eyebrows and sank downward.

The sound was very soft, but it was particularly terrifying on the street in the early morning.

The Lotus Pure Land of the middle-aged monk was destroyed, the Buddha who sacrificed himself to become a Buddha was destroyed, and countless thoughts were blocked back by the strange big black umbrella, and the sea of knowledge was shattered at that moment!

The middle-aged monk looked at Ning Que in confusion, shock, despair, anger and sadness, two lines of blood seeped out from the corners of his lips, his throat hissed, and he shouted in a weak and dumb voice: "You are really "You are really the ......"

When he was dying, he was in a hurry, but he only had time to say the twilight word.

Chen Pipi's face was pale, and he flicked the wide sleeves of his hospital uniform.

The thin warrior monk who stopped in front of him roared, and the sharp knife in his abdomen sprayed towards Chen Pipi's body, wanting to stop him for another moment.

Chen Pipi had been blocked by him for a moment before, and at this time, under the sudden shock of his heart, where would he be given another chance, the vitality of heaven and earth between the wide sleeves shook and converved, and he easily collected all the blood rain sprayed on him, and with a hiss, the cuffs were broken into silk, shooting out like lightning, and then turned into catkins and bent slightly to tap the dry lips of the middle-aged monk, forcing the most curtain words back.

Ning Que knew better that he couldn't let the middle-aged monk shout out his secret before he died, and the aura in his body burst out, swept in front of the other party, and slashed obliquely with his palm as a knife!

The edge of his palm did not touch the neck of the middle-aged monk.

But the middle-aged monk had a thin red thread around his neck.

However, the middle-aged monk's head was crooked, and it was about to fall.

At this moment, the cloth belt on the cuff of the tangerine peel swished, and it circled according to the blood line, and tied the head of the middle-aged monk that was about to fall tightly to the body.

The warrior monk's face turned pale, and he resolutely turned around and squeezed into the crowd in the street.

Chen Pipi looked at the back of the warrior monk in silence, and seemed to hesitate.

Ning Que glanced at Chen Pipi.

Chen Pipi looked up at the sky.

The streets of Chang'an in the early morning are still calm and joyful, some people are buying steamed buns, some people are buying steamed buns, the children are blowing on the big meat buns, carefully taking a bite, biting the meat filling will reveal a happy and regretful look, happy with the fragrance of the meat filling, regretting that it was eaten so quickly.

The middle-aged monk sat down slowly outside the bun shop, no one knew that he was dead, and no one noticed that a monk in the crowd was walking away with his intestines in his hands.

Ning Que took out the arrow box, silently began to assemble, bending the bow and arrows.

He aimed at the calm and joyful streets of Chang'an and shot a Yuan Thirteen arrow.

The runic arrow whizzed through the air, and I don't know where it ended up.

There were so many pedestrians on the street that it was impossible to see if the fleeing monk had been shot.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the street in the distance, and someone shouted in horror: "Murder!"

Ning Que carried an arrow box and a black umbrella on his back, and walked into the side alley with Chen Pipi and disappeared.

The commotion in the distance quickly spread to the vicinity of the bun shop.

The timid but boisterous children shouted in panic and called for their friends to run over there.

The boy holding the hot big meat bun, when he ran past the front of the shop, accidentally bumped into the middle-aged monk sitting outside the shop, and the big meat bun in his hand fell to the ground.

The child looked at the meat buns rolling on the ground, and was about to cry in distress.

The corpse of the middle-aged monk was hit by this, and the head fixed by the cloth belt fell gently, falling to the ground and rolling non-stop, as if it was also a meat bun.

The child rubbed his eyes, looked at the monk's head, and cried out loud in fright.

With the crying, the last peaceful and joyful atmosphere on the long street was swept away.

The Pure Land is false after all.

The real world is always so sinister.

(Recently, I have written less, so I will try to write more seriously, I hope everyone can be satisfied.) (To be continued)