In the space where the stone platform is located, the three braziers are still flickering, as if they will never burn inexhaustibly.

A middle-aged man sits cross-legged on a stone platform, his hair shawl and beard drooping down his chest.

The middle-aged man is Fan Yi.

It's just that this time I sat down, twenty years have passed, and this space is like a cage on earth, except for endless silence, there is no foreign life at all.

The middle-aged Fan Yi finally opened his eyes slowly, there was no feeling of hunger, no discomfort of prostration, and only inner peace.

Before, he was still wondering if he was tricked into this place by the painter and imprisoned him, but now it doesn't matter.

The cultivation realm is still the four realms, because on the stone platform, the space where it is located cannot absorb more spiritual energy, and can only barely maintain its vitality.

The middle-aged Fan Yi let out a long breath, and stretched out his fingers to sketch on the stone platform.

Because the stone platform is too hard, there is no trace at all.

The middle-aged Fan Yi is still sketching the scene in his heart.

Perhaps only he can understand what he wants to sketch.

Gradually, the fingers that had been drawn in his heart seemed to have received a lot of resistance, and sweat began to fall from his forehead.

After the middle-aged Fan Yi sketched for an hour, he slowly withdrew his hand.

muttered to himself, saying:

"If you can give me a bamboo pen, how nice it would be to have a piece of rice paper, such a magnificent beauty, wouldn't it be a pity not to show it."

After the middle-aged Fan Yi let out a long sigh, his eyes became a little darker.

He couldn't remember how long it had been here.

Originally, twenty years ago, he was going to go to Wuzong to apprentice, and then he was successful in cultivating and collecting the corpse of Qin Jun, but now he can't even see his family.

I don't know what happened to my father, second uncle and Rongcheng now.

The middle-aged Fan Yi smiled bitterly, then shook his head and said:

"I see, everything I think and think is just from the heart, there is no difference between me and me, what can I change if I am not there, I am born as a human being, and I am lonely."

Everything can be let go, and letting go is relief and detachment.

With that in mind.

Suddenly, the three braziers on top of the stone began to rotate slowly, but the movement was too small, and the middle-aged Fan Yi didn't notice it.

Leisurely, an old voice finally sounded:

"Fan Yi, what do you want to do most now?"

The middle-aged Fan Yi was slightly stunned, but the expression on his face was still very calm, perhaps because of the increase in age, his heart also changed.

Fan Yi said in a low voice:

"I have a Qianlong picture scroll in my heart, but I have no paper and pen, it's a pity, it's a pity."

The old voice smiled slightly, and then said:

"Pen and paper are simple, and then!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a piece of rice paper slowly fell from the center of the three braziers, and there was a bamboo pen on top of it.

The middle-aged Fan Yi raised his head and watched them float over, so he stretched out his hands and caught them.

With paper and pen, the middle-aged Fan Yi's expression was still calm, and he didn't want to care about the reason.

He just wanted to paint a picture, a painting that would drain his life.

It's moving!

The middle-aged Fan Yi began to use a bamboo pen to sketch patterns.

The place where one stroke passes is like the sea and mountains, and the moon is like the sky.

The bamboo pen is flying on the rice paper, fast but endless.

I don't know how long it has been.

The old voice sounded again:

"Enough, don't paint anymore, you already have a big world in your heart, and you can't finish painting it."

The middle-aged Fan Yi ignored it, still outlining the pattern by himself.

The old voice laughed:

"Fan Yi, you have passed the soul test, the old man will let you leave here."

Hear the words.

The middle-aged Fan Yi finally stopped the bamboo pen in his hand, but there was a little doubt in his eyes, as if he was recalling.

Said:

"Soul test? Soul Test...? ”

"yes, if you don't say it, I'll really forget. So I can get out of here? ”

Don't wait for the artist to answer.

Middle-aged Fan Yi continued:

"But what can I do when I get out? It seems that nothing can be done. ”

As soon as the words fell.

The vision in front of the middle-aged Fan Yi began to dim, and it was black again, endless black.

Then.

A familiar voice sounded in Fan Yi's ears, and he said in a childlike voice:

"Fan Yi, wake up quickly, you have passed the soul test, don't open your eyes soon."

This voice is sealed by the heavenly spirit!

Fan Yi opened his eyes suddenly, only to see that the scene in front of him was both strange and familiar.

Above the black bone hand, there are vague figures in the Tai Chi pattern, and a small golden sheng bucket is suspended in front of him.

It's the painter and the Heavenly Spirit Seal.

Fan Yi slowly stood up, his body staggered slightly, and his appearance was exactly the same as when he entered the Monster Hunt Painting.

There is no middle-aged Fan Yi.

Only the teenager Fan Yi.

Fan Yi finally understood at this moment.

It turned out that the space I was in, which seemed to be more than 20 years old, was just a moment in the outside world.

Twenty years, in an instant.

He even wondered if he had really been sitting for twenty years.

The painter smiled:

"You have passed the soul test, and now the old man will pass this monster hunting painting to you."

"The old man has nothing else to ask for you, you already have a lot in your heart, you don't need to say more."

Fan Yi bowed to the vague figure again and asked:

"Are the seniors still alive? Will there be a chance to see each other in the future? ”

The painter was silent for a long time, and said leisurely:

"Painter, hehe, painter!"

"If there is fate, we can naturally meet, but at that time, will you be the same as me."

At this point, the painter did not say any more.

Fan Yi hurriedly said:

"Like you? What is the meaning? ”

There was silence for a long time.

The painter did not answer Fan's question directly, but said:

"Only when you have a good heart can you see it, and no matter what happens in the future, you can't give up, understand?"

Fan Yi repeated the painter's words, but he couldn't understand it for a while.

"Okay, Fan Yi, now that you have been able to control the monster hunting painting, my residual consciousness will also dissipate."

"So be it."

After saying that, the blurred figure disappeared in an instant.

Fan Yi hadn't sent it off yet, but he found that his mind was establishing a connection with the blood-colored desert and the black bone hand.

It seems that in the monster hunting painting, from the large space to the small grains of sand, he sketched them one by one.

It's not about inheritance, it's about creation!

Fan Yi's heart moved, and then he returned to the stone bridge from the monster hunting painting.

Heavenly Spirit Yin hurriedly asked:

"How?"

Fan Yi smiled and nodded, and said:

"Let's go, we've kept that big demon waiting long enough, it's time to wrap it up."

The boy clenched his fist.

His temperament has also undergone a drastic change.

Roulette mirror at this time.

It muttered to itself:

"The Terran boy is not simple, maybe there will come a day, and the netherworld will no longer be a cage."

Netherworld, Prison Cage!