Ning Que didn't know that he had only rubbed shoulders with a great opportunity again, and naturally he didn't know that he tore up an account book in the Qinglou, and then was seen by a certain rune master, which created the two famous chicken soup posts and Yan's woodcut rubbings in the future, and now he is still the unknown young boss in Lin Forty-seventh Lane, the ordinary student who studied hard in the academy.

After waking up in the early morning of the second day, he frowned and drank the bowl of chicken soup with great difficulty, and then called out to Sangsang, who was about to clean up the pot and stove, looked at the black face of the little maid, and said very seriously: "I drank too much last night because I was too happy, but I got drunk when I came back and didn't have time to tell you." ”

Sang Sang raised his little face, raised thin eyebrows, opened his bright eyes, looked at him curiously and asked, "Young Master, what makes you happy like that? I really rarely see you drink so much wine." ”

"In the old library building of the academy, I seem to have found a way to read those books. ”

Ning Que smiled and stretched out a finger, dangling it in front of the tip of her little nose, and said, "Although it may be just a glimmer of hope, but after all, it is still hope, I think if it is possible, I must catch it." ”

Hope is only an occasional negation of despair. Because it's only occasional, it's always difficult to last long, as a guy who has been played with by fate for more than ten years, Ning Que knows better than anyone else that the end of hope often turns into disappointment and despair, and the greater the hope, the deeper the final regret and regret.

Whether it was the cultivator in the mountains and wilderness of Yanjing back then, or the assessment officer of the military department, the gentle old man Lu Qingchen during the journey, until the recent selection of the technical department when he was admitted to the academy, he forbade the painful process of disillusionment again and again, so he became more and more calm and even numb, but even so, he didn't seem to care much about stepping into that magical cultivation world, but deep down he never gave up hope.

Because he knows that if he wants to live in this world, live well, complete his revenge, and write his name with a capital letter on the fertile black soil of Datang, then he must enter that world, if he gives up all hope, then the end will no longer be disappointment, but despair.

In order to grasp the faint hope of zài, Ning Que once again mediated his mental state to the most impassioned and sunny realm, every morning when the sky is not dawn, he will take a car out of Chang'an City, every night when the night is very dark before taking the car back to Lane 47, in the morning six classics study is often sleepy, after the third bell rings, the whole person seems to be choked by Nanding Island tobacco, the spirit jumped up a hundred times, rushed out of the study house and rushed into the stove, chewed slowly swallowed the lunch for two, walked around the lake a few laps, and then climbed the stairs and climbed the stairs again, holding the book in his hand and reluctant to herd。

He basked in the sun under the west window to read the ink characters, and used the Yongzi Eight Method to disassemble all the words on the thin book into individual strokes, and then carefully understood the meaning of the direction of those strokes, deliberately forgetting their meaning.

The female professor was still quietly tracing the Bodhisattva flowers by the east window, and at some point she untied her hair bun, and reflected the soft short hair that passed her ears to the increasingly thick spring light outside the window, warm to the extreme, and silent to the extreme, no matter how sincere Ning Que's attitude was, she would no longer give any guidance.

A few days later, one afternoon, the book "A Preliminary Exploration of the Qihai Snow Mountain" was finally flipped through to the middle part, and the ink characters that greeted his eyes were disassembled into thousands of strokes, and then recombined into thousands of Yongzi with different shapes and inexplicable meanings, almost completely exhausting his spiritual body.

Ning Que rubbed his astringent eyes, and silently turned his head to look at the increasingly thick green leaves outside the window, knowing that there was no point in forcibly looking at it like this, even if he continued to squeeze his last spiritual perseverance, it was just to understand the intentions of some talismans who copied the scrolls, and it would not provide any help for him to step into the initial realm.

Most disappointing to him, the paper sandwiched between the thin books never had any more notes on the mysterious teaching, not even a word, as if the man had disappeared.

The cicada song that had annoyed the academy students for thousands of years began the reincarnation of the twelfth year of the apocalypse without warning at a certain moment in this afternoon, Ning Que quietly listened to the noisy cicadas outside the window, and after listening to it for a long time, he suddenly turned his head, closed the thin book on his lap, and then closed his eyes and began to meditate.

The strokes of the words on the book were decomposed by him with the Yongyu Eight Method, and then he forcibly forgot the meaning of the words with scattered centrifugation, so although there were many of them, they could barely be quietly parked in a certain corner of the spiritual world, but once they began to meditate on these strokes, the complicated strokes would become dangerous.

On the first day, when he was forgetful of the words and felt that there was no way forward in the inner mind of his chest and abdomen, Ning Que knew that if he forcibly meditated and urged the thoughts, it would definitely be very dangerous, so he never tried it again these days, just hoping that in the world, in front of him, if he watched it exist like this, but gradually slipped away to the underworld and went to the sky, this is something he absolutely cannot accept, so at this moment, he must try again.

He closed his eyes and sat cross-legged by the window, not moving for a long time, like a statue...... A slightly hot spring breeze blew from the west window, blowing on the light cyan robe on his body, with bursts of ripples, those traces slowly protruded on the surface of the green shirt outside the chest and abdomen and then calmed, protruding again and calm again, as if he had some kind of spirituality, and as if it was some kind of wonderful, life came to life, but it was a pity that between the ups and downs of this trace, it was still incoherent, isolated in the corner and could not touch, spirituality was not connected, life had no foundation, and gradually decayed.

In a small pond somewhere in the academy, the lake water was disturbed by the wind wheels, and the slight waves pushed a few small round duckweed on the surface to sway around, but no matter what direction the duckweed swayed, it would eventually touch the wall of the pond and fall back.

Somewhere in the world, in the deep mountains, there are famous people who visit famous temples through the dense forest. P opened the wooden door of the small temple but learned that the great virtue had already traveled all over the world, and the celebrity had to shake his head and retreat, looking back at the broken road in the forest, so stupid.

In Ning Que's spiritual world at this moment, those extremely complicated strokes, those radicals that were decomposed into radicals with no specific meaning, and those horizontal and vertical lines and ink spots, suddenly became vivid as he tried to meditate and meditate. Dao Dao ink has more sharp metal edges, turning into the terrifying knife array of the barbarian Golden Horde tribe on the grassland, and the little pen has more infinite wetness, turning into the bleak rain outside the Spring Breeze Pavilion, and it begins to fall, and the falling is the knife analysis of countless heads, and the falling is the rainstorm, which is majestic and endless, and there is no end but endless conflicts.

Suddenly, the whole world stopped raining, he opened his eyes, got out of the state of sitting and meditating, felt a sharp dull pain in his chest, couldn't help but bow his head and coughed, a slightly hoarse cough instantly tore the tranquility of the second floor of the old library, he hurriedly raised his sleeves to cover his lips but found that there were some bloody red blood spots on the grapefruit.

"The Master once said that it is very boring to act strongly. You are not physically fit for practice, and although you have amazing perseverance and have even found some kind of interesting method, you ...... Since it doesn't work, don't insist. ”

I don't know when, the female professor had already walked in front of Ning Que, looked at him with gentle eyes and whispered.

Ning Que looked up, only to find that the female professor was extremely small, her eyebrows were thin, and her eyes were clear, and she couldn't tell how old she was, he knew that at the previous dangerous moment, she should have used some method to forcibly summon him out of meditation, and couldn't help laughing at himself, stood up and wiped the serum from the corner of his lips, and saluted sincerely.

The female professor shook her head with a smile, signaling that he didn't need to be so solemn and nodded slightly, and then took the twilight flower bookbook and walked to the depths of the bookshelf, and walked out of the old library out of nowhere.

Unconsciously, Ning Que spent a lot of time meditating, it was already twilight outside the building, and when the night was approaching, he did not leave in a hurry, but stood quietly under the west window, listened to a piece of cicadas that seemed to be a little intermittent because of their rustiness, and then walked to the bookcase, sharpened the ink and wrote a paragraph on the paper.

In the middle of the night, the tattoos on the bookshelves deep on the second floor of the old book building were bright again, and then quietly slid away to both sides, accompanied by the heavy wheezing sound of squeezing, Chen Pipi squeezed out with great difficulty, and the flesh of the fat face trembled extremely funny.

After he left those words that night, he has been concerned about the progress of the other party, but because Ning Que took sick leave, he didn't wait for a response for a few days, and he was even more curious in addition to being angry, but unfortunately, the second senior brother who gave him the most headache and fear these days didn't know what was wrong with his brain, and suddenly mobilized the classmates who stayed behind to collectively learn the ancient ritual and sacrifice process, and under the repeated fatigue bombardment, he didn't have the time and energy to come over.

Today finally has a leisure, Chen Pipi didn't care about bathing and resting, and hurried to the old book building, just to see if the poor and hateful guy had any reply.

Walking to the bookshelf and pulling out the thin copy of "A Preliminary Exploration of the Qihai Snow Mountain", Chen Pipi raised his eyebrows, let out a light sound, and after smashing his mouth and looking at it for a while, he couldn't help but shake his head and exclaimed: "This guy is really bold and ambitious, he actually came up with such a stupid method, and he can really understand it?"

This is naturally Ning Que's first reply, and then he saw Ning Que's latest message today, his thick lips couldn't help but snap louder and louder, and he frowned and said in distress: "I don't even understand this, I still want to play cultivation?" I really don't know if this guy is a genius or an idiot!"

After a moment of silence, Chen Pipi sat down at the table by the west window, sharpened the ink and moistened the pen and began to reply, in his second exchange with Ning Que, the genius student from Xiling wrote: "Are you a child? You don't even understand such a basic truth? Since you don't know anything, you can't understand it, naturally you can't resonate with the breath of heaven and earth, and there is no other way to go." If you want to ask for specific truths, I can only give you an analogy, our body is like a musical instrument, for example, a flute, and the mental power is the breath that returns in the flute, and the breath of the flute does not necessarily make a beautiful music, because the sound comes from between the holes of the flute. ”

"If you don't even have holes on this flute, then how can you blow it? Heaven and earth can't hear your music, how can you sense it? There are so many things in your snowy mountains and seas, how do you want to toss?"