The courtyard of white bamboo.

In the quiet room, the candle flame danced silently, and the boy and the man sat at the same table.

Zi Huang pinned all the weight of his body on the back of the chair, his eyes were only staring at the empty place, in front of him was the cold tea, but his lips were dry.

"I like ancient paintings, Pei Shaoxia," he muttered, "and that started on July 11." ”

On July 11, summer, the rain was dripping.

Late at night.

Zi Huang leaned on the couch, reading the newspaper under the candlelight, and suddenly there were three bangs on the door with the sound of water.

Xu Jian scrambled to get up and opened the door, and the candlelight was gone, but under the stairs was an old friend who had not been in touch for a long time, it was Zhang Zijing, a famous painter from a neighboring state.

At this time, his clothes and hair were wet, the only tarpaulin was covered by the bookcase behind him, and his face was also white from cold, but his eyes were bright, and his mouth was smiling excitedly.

As soon as he saw Zihuang, he didn't even have time to enter the house, so he couldn't wait to hold the man's sleeve: "Sword fight, that immortal picture scroll has eyebrows!" ”

"The 'Immortal Painting' is a legend thirty years ago that is difficult to distinguish between true and false."

"Squeak", Zi Huang pushed back the chair and stood up, skimmed from the bookshelf, took out a booklet and put it in front of Pei Li, I don't know how many times he has read it, as soon as he opens it, it is that page.

"Contained in the "Yinyang County Chronicles, Xiangxian Volume": Western Tian, Yinyang people, father met again for the state military academy Tian does not like soldiers, since childhood good painting, painted dozens of volumes a day, the wall of the room is colorful. And long, Lizhou County, tour mountains and rivers, painted into a dazzling, famous state in the eleven counties. ”

Zi Huang paused: "This person's painting skills are extremely high, and his spirituality is dazzling. The name is not out of Sanzhou, just because of the remote location, a few years ago I and Zhang Zijing begged this person to leave a pen, every volume will be regarded as a treasure, and later we learned from the micro secret, in fact, there is the last painting in his life has been passed on" Linxian Scroll ". ”

Zihuang's finger continued to swipe down the pages of the book: "In the winter of the dragon and the son, Tian entered the salary and asked for painting, and returned from the moon, and he was crazy and crazy, and he entered the house for three days, without drinking or eating." The villagers are worried, and they break through their doors, but they see a picture scroll hanging in the hall, standing under the scroll, the pupils shoot snake light, describe the withered, and die on the ground. The person who saw this painting also went crazy and burned it. ”

Pei Ye stared at the booklet without saying a word, and the black cat had climbed on his shoulder for some time, and his blue eyes drooped the pages.

"That's all there is to the record, Zhang Zijing and I visited a scholar who compiled the county chronicle back then, and learned that it was the Yinyang Standing Inspection of Xianrentai who handled this matter, and the verdict was that the Western Tian spirituality overflowed, and it had touched the spirit of the Xuan, and there was no practice constraint, so his painting was like a spirit brewing ink, and those who saw it were killed, and the villagers took it as a demon and burned it."

"After knowing that he was indeed burned, Zijing and I were very sorry, but there was no help, so we had to let it die without a problem."

"But. The last time we visited his hometown, we saw a fake. Zi Huang slowly closed his eyes.

After a long time, he spoke again: "The disciple of the West Tian, when he was painting, he copied on the side, his temperament was sluggish, until the painting was completed, he was inspired and mad, because it was the teacher's posthumous work, he asked his wife to hide it before he went mad, so as to avoid burning." When I went, he had been obsessed for 30 years, and his family was surrounded by walls, and it was his old wife who knew that we were looking for it, and wanted to sell it with this painting. ”

Zihuang paused again: "She asked for four taels of silver, and I gave her twenty taels, which actually seems to me. This painting is not for sale. ”

"This disciple is very good at controlling the pen, extremely good at depiction, and the legendary spirituality has not been seen at all, he has only imprinted the dry old shadow of that divine scene." Zihuang said softly, "But it's just such a layer of skin. It has made me and Zijing suddenly fascinated. Divine and magnificent, fairy and bewitching, those colors and shapes should only be achieved on the Yao Pond. ”

"Obtaining this treasure scroll is the rarest time in the past ten years, but after seeing such a skin, we can't help but search its flesh and blood soul. However, when I visited the old people in the village, I only got the same truth-the authentic handiwork of Xitian back then was indeed burned. After three days, we finally planned to return helplessly, but when we were leaving, we heard this old wife talk about an interesting incident back then."

Zi Huang looked at the young man in front of him and said softly, "She said. When Xi Tian painted this painting, he kept his eyes closed for three days and three nights. ”

“.”

"We've been wondering why this painting is so different from the last works of Western Tian. Style, technique, content. Not even the length of the article is similar. ”

"Now we know."

"Because this painting is not his creation, but his memory tracing." Zi Huang said softly, "Where has he seen this painting, that is the real thing." And this stunning picture in our hands is just a fake of a fake. ”

Zi Huang leaned back in her chair and breathed softly.

The room was quiet.

"I'd rather we never found out about that." He said.

"Along the way, we made friends with the local Xianrentai Standing Inspectorate, and he gave us a look at this small case that was not very important, so we found another abnormality - those people who went crazy when they saw the painting had a common behavior, called 'Mountain Ben'." Zihuang whispered, "As soon as the seven people who saw the painting fell asleep, they would wake up in shock, and then run to the mountains of Xincang, which lasted for a total of seven days. The Chang Jian said that he guessed that there was some spiritual object in the mountain, and he was occasionally seen and photographed by Xitian in order to influence these people. ”

"We know that it must be the true picture, or if it is really the pen and ink of the ancient immortals." Zi Huang said, "However, when we really planned to go into the mountains to search, we once again encountered insurmountable difficulties - Xincang Mountain stretches for thousands of miles, its depth is unpredictable, we are short of manpower, and the traces of the picture scroll have been broken, how do we know where Xi Tian's footprints have arrived thirty years ago?" ”

"The people who were crazy are now dead, and the only survivor is this lonely man who sells paintings, who is also dying. When asked about his wife, he also said that in the past 30 years, he has not traveled to the mountains again. Zi Huang said softly, "Even though the picture scroll is rare, after all, we can't toss and stimulate an old and sick person, so we aimlessly searched for the mountains for two months, but we didn't find anything, so we had to go down the mountain with regret." ”

"This is what happened two years ago." Zihuang looked at the young man, "We thought it would be a lifelong regret." ”

"But after all, I was not so lucky."

On the rainy night of July 11, Zhang Zijing stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked at Zihuang, and his eyes were scorching in the rainy night: "Sword fight, quickly pack your luggage and go with me!" ”

Zihuang was stunned for a moment: "What's the matter. Let's talk about it in the first house. ”

Zhang Zijing grabbed his arm: "That lonely disciple back then, in the night three days ago, suddenly ran to the mountains again!" ”

“！”

——

When he arrived at the village again, the old man described it as even more withered and tied to his bed. His old wife had died, and it was the neighbors who were taking care of him.

For the first time, Zihuang saw the realistic projection of the word "madness" on the county chronicle, and the old man who couldn't move looked extremely painful, and his weak body was able to loosen the hemp rope. He didn't drink or eat, he was lucky to survive when he was young and strong, how can he have this physique now.

When they arrived, it was still a rainy night, and the two discussed with the villagers that they would let the old man go to Xincang and his party, and the two of them would follow him, trying to find the source and try to cure him and bring him back.

When they heard that this purple-robed Angzang man was the elder of Baizhu in the neighboring state and the legendary master of the Eight Lives, the villagers finally relented.

"Actually, it's nothing if you can bring it back or not." The village chief, who is also in his old age, said in a dumb voice, "I have been haunted by this demon for half my life, and I have been in a state of confusion for thirty years, and I don't even know that my daughter-in-law is dead. He should always be allowed to see it before he dies. ”

But as far as Zihuang is concerned, the so-called "nightmare" is often just caused by the weakness of ordinary people - all kinds of magic weapons stored in Xianrentai cannot escape the scope of spiritual qi, but if they are placed in the body of ordinary people, they are also fatal demons.

Zihuang and the others let go of the old man, forcibly fed them with water and dry food, and entered Xincang Mountain in the rain that night.

This kind of self-confidence that drives directly into the body is what Zihuang should have, no matter what kind of spiritual evil he faces, Basheng is definitely a strong enough force, not to mention that the West Tian has no cultivation back then, isn't it also out of the body?

As soon as you enter the mountain, it is half a moon.

Thirty years ago, it was said that the "mountain run" lasted only seven days, but now fifteen days have passed, and the old man has not stopped, his life seems to have been forcibly extended by some force, and he has also resumed his diet, grabbing the leaves when he is hungry and eating, and drinking when he is thirsty.

Its shape is more and more like a candle in the wind, as if it has squeezed all life to go this way, and before this life is exhausted, in the scenery of the dense forest and deep cliffs day after day, there is finally something that does not belong to nature.

Traces of a group of at least ten or more people.

Just like that, it suddenly and nakedly appeared in front of them, which made the two of them stunned for a long time.

This is the eternal deep ridge after half a month into the mountain, and further forward is not a way out, but a deeper vastness. Collecting medicine and harvesting firewood, hunting and hunting for animals, should not arrive here. Except for people like them who have a very special purpose, this place should be untouched for a thousand years.

And yet it just appeared.

And to distinguish the traces, it is actually a combination of men, women and children.

The two of them could not identify their origins, and for a moment they even suspected that they were hermits living in the mountains, and they did not think for long, and the old man beside them had already walked forward frantically.

The following day, Zi Huang, who was already a little sluggish, tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, and by night, they had encountered similar marks three more times, and they were getting newer and newer.

That night, Zihuang pressed the sword and never slebered.

"It happened on this night." In the quiet room, the man in front of him looked at Pei Li in a hoarse voice, "Pei Shaoxia should be able to guess what happened." ”

"Forehead fire charm. The body and spirit are called. ”

"Yes." Zi Huang looked straight at the window, as if that incredible scene was emerging there again, "Perhaps, I stopped it desperately at that time, and then took the two of them and left reflexively. ”

The heavy darkness enveloped everything, the bonfire dimmed, and the night in the deep mountains was always like this, a peculiar silence, and then interspersed with some cries near or far, embellishing its layers and vastness.

In such a night, the corners of Zihuang's eyes were suddenly illuminated by a faint light of another color.

He turned his head and watched in amazement as Zhang Zijing slowly stood up, if it weren't for the blue fire talisman on his forehead that was slowly blooming, Zi Huang would have thought that this was just a rare sleepwalk.

Zhang Zijing crossed the two of them and the bonfire with blank eyes, ignoring Zihuang's shouts, and dragged his stiff steps forward.

Zihuang pressed him to the ground, choked and shouted, and poured his true qi, but nothing worked. The fire talisman on his forehead was still blazing, and Zhang Zijing only muttered and stared straight ahead.

Zihuang hesitated for a moment and let go of him.

At this time, the matter of the immortal painting had been put behind the man's mind, and the spirit evil in front of him had climbed to the heavenly court of his friend, and he guessed that he might have encountered some kind of evil cult that manipulated the spirit and harmed people, and Zi Huang never lacked courage in these things. He tightened the hilt of his sword and trailed his friend.

This is a deep mountain where only fox wolves walk at night, and the purple fence is like a silent ghost hidden in the shadows of the trees, and it is getting farther and farther away with its friends.

But in fact, he only walked for half an hour, and when he turned back, he had just lost sight of the campfire, and several black shadows like falcons swept in front of Zhang Zijing with the sound of the wind.

The momentum displayed between the movements and the fall made Zi Huang violently suppress his body, and the breathing machine was strangled by himself.

An eight-year-old student. and three full seven lives.

Zhang Zijing's sudden appearance obviously alarmed them as well, and the power to send out to check on it was already worthy of a sect that was enough to open the mountain and spread its name.

Zi Huang realized that something was wrong in the sudden contraction of his heart - it was not that he had met a peer in the search for a spiritual painting, nor was it that some little cult that had not seen the light had bumped into his hands, this was a dangerous thing that was far beyond his vision.

Zihuang clearly judged that the better option at this time should be to turn back immediately, but his friend had already fallen into their hands.

The purple fence was a few feet behind, carefully embellished it, and only half a moment later, the scene that had not been seen in this life came into view.

A huge cold tree-shaped flame was painted on the ground, and the cauldron burned with cold blue, and seven people with talismans on their foreheads stood stiffly in front of a bronze rod, and Zhang Zijing was one of them.

The prayer was solemn, the sacrifice was magnificent, Zihuang almost thought that he had arrived at a certain imperial temple, and when the person who presided over turned around and picked up the bronze long pole, and Zhang Zijing stepped forward to serve the green bottle, he finally couldn't wait any longer, and swept out.

The killing intent of the True Qi Technique in the sheath erupted vigorously, and the wind and blood light were brought up under the purple robe, holding the supreme attainment of the "Cutting Bamboo Sword" and the True Qi Technique Folding Bamboo of this generation, the man broke through the backlash of the eight beings in front of him with a sword, and plunged the blade straight into his chest.

Since stepping into the Eight Lives, he has been constantly brave and diligent, only taking Meng Chuyuan as the target in his eyes, and the record at this time proves that he is indeed the best in the Eight Lives, in the blink of an eye, more than ten outbreaks and attacks and defenses, his body burst out with tragic blood flowers, but he still did not lose the advantage of sneak attack, and at the end, he had firmly strangled this person.

"Who are you?! Untie what is on their heads! He pressed the blade of his sword against the man's throat, and whispered a bloody question.

Then he froze, and behind him came the sound of the cloth tearing and a low roar.

In the autumn night room, it is silent.

The man who told it all seemed to have gone through that nightmare again, looking tired and weak.

Zijing drank the cup of ambergris. He said in a low voice, and looked at Pei Ye silently, and the coldness brought by that scene appeared in the memories of the two people at the same time.

"Later, things will be completely broken."

Zi Huang cut off the head of the black robe under him with a sword, and watched his demonic snake-like friend freeze in place.

He didn't know what to do, and he didn't really have time to make a decision.

A purple-robed man who had noticed the movement suddenly appeared in front of him.

He first picked up the bronze rod and pierced through Zhang Zijing's alienated body, and the demonic hideousness melted like a candle. The purple fence rushed forward in horror, and the purple-robed man turned his head, and the eyes under the mask only looked at him, and the purple fence turned into a piece of tofu that had been hit with a heavy hammer.

If it weren't for the bundle of true qi, the whole person would have been scattered in all directions.

He smashed to the ground like rags, Yasei's strong body was as fragile as paper at this moment, his bones were broken, his skin was broken, his flesh collapsed, and a large pool of blood and broken organs flowed out from under him.

He watched as the purple-robed man turned the remaining six into viscous droplets one by one, and then walked over with the plump and shiny gourd rod, the mysterious mask overlooking him, and plunged into his abdomen.

"I passed out." Zi Huang said, "I only felt that cold thing seem to enter my body and swallow my meridian tree. ”

"Serious injuries are difficult to heal, my true qi is gone, my blood is about to run out, my eyes stuck to blood can't be opened, I feel as if I have been thrown somewhere." Zihuang picked up the tea for the first time and took a sip with a slight tremble, "Pei Shaoxia, I have had many fights close to life and death, and I have also suffered serious injuries that are almost impossible to heal, but that was the first time I felt completely hopeless, waiting to be used like a pig tied up. ”

Then he slowly looked up at Pei Li, and said in a daze: "In this desperate coma, I seem to have seen the true handiwork of the scroll." ”

(End of chapter)