On the night of the ninth day of the first lunar month, Xu Huaigu sat on a chair in the monk's house, his toes lightly treading the ground, and slapping casually, while his eyes looked out through the window.

Tonight was cloudless, and the mutilated moon hung over the dark sky, like a piece of pie that had been stolen by a naughty child.

When the literati and writers of the world chant poetry, they always like to say that although the middle region is vast and there are thousands of living beings, everything under the world is still the same day and month, and it remains unchanged for eternity.

In fact, this statement is not entirely true, Xu Huaigu remembered that he used to be in the Lechuan Secret Realm and the Hangshun Secret Realm......

Chapter 8 of "Huai Jian Xing": The person who recites the scriptures is hitting in his hand, please wait for a while,

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