"What a feeling it is. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 info" The old man's wrinkled face was huddled together, and his already small eyes disappeared into the wrinkles.

Zheng Qing was shocked to find that his whole body was restrained by an inexplicable force, and he couldn't move.

I can't move my fingertips.

The eyelids don't blink.

Even the breath froze.

Except for the pocket watch ticking on his chest, only thoughts seem to flow slowly.

"Heavy, turbulent, crazy, explosive, mighty!" the old man suddenly opened his dark eyes without a trace of whites, and whispered: "It's like tens of millions of people shouting together, like tens of millions of hearts trembling neatly." I hardly know what material to use to carry it. ”

He raised a small mallet and struck a bronze bell hanging on the table.

"Boom!"

The melodious sound of the bell reverberated in this closed room.

Elves the size of a palm, emitting a green glow, flew out from the depths of the room with the sound of the bell.

They lined up in a neat line and piled a roll of tanned heavy leather rolls onto the table.

After a mischievous elf put down the skin, he flapped his wings and slipped in front of Zheng Qing's eyes, looking at the stranger curiously.

She was wearing a skirt spun of fine yarn, with shiny silver pieces hanging on her **** arms, her big black eyes flickering, and the filament tentacles on the top of her head also trembled.

"Xixi......" The elf made a pleasant and cheerful sound, and reached out to pull the hairs on Zheng Qing's face.

The little hands were cold and painful.

Zheng Qing felt as if his head could move, and he tried to blink.

As if frightened, the elf bounced away, turned into a streamer, and disappeared into the darkness deep in the store.

Zheng Qing found that he still couldn't speak.

He winced his eyebrows, wrinkled his nose laboriously, and expressed his displeasure to the old man behind the table.

The old man closed his eyes, and his thin hands slowly brushed the skins, quietly touching the materials at hand.

"Knock, knock, knock," like a woodpecker, his thin index finger tapped steadily against the rolls, one after the other, steady and tireless.

"The first layer of the dragon's skin is too hard, and the second layer of skin is too soft. ”

"The seven-colored deerskin is too thin to carry such a heavy soul. ”

"Pigskin is a good choice, but if combined with this soul, the inertia is too strong and it will affect the spell casting. ”

"Mulberry paper is too brittle, not good, not good. ”

"The attribute tendencies of bamboo slips and fish skin are too strong, and it is too wasteful of this soul. ”

The old man was babbling, his mouth was broken, and suddenly he pushed the skin on the table to the ground. His body floated straight into the air as if it had no gravity.

Zheng Qing was horrified to find that his body involuntarily floated into the air.

"The power of the earth, the power of the surging heavenly river, the power of the crazy hurricane, the power of the bursting wildfire, all four elephants, what kind of existence is this!" The old man's nose was close to Zheng Qing's body, sniffing around carefully, and the murmuring in his mouth never stopped:

"Everything has a spirit, and there is a unique spirit in every wizarding book. Casting spells is to magnify the power of the wizard geometrically through the induction between the soul of this demon beast and heaven and earth. Even the soul of the Great Demon was not so violent. Is it a murder or a spirit? It's impossible!"

"Oh, got it, got it. The cooked skins have already been set, why don't you try the raw skins? Why am I always obsessed with these places?" The old man's body fluttered backwards, and disappeared into the darkness in the blink of an eye, leaving only Zheng Qing in the air in front of the table in a panic.

The green elves flew back again.

They gathered the skins scattered under the table and retreated.

There were only a few little guys who were screaming, happily flapping their wings and coming to Zheng Qing's eyes.

One by one, they held something the size of a grain of rice and threw it into Zheng Qing's jacket pocket. Then it fell on top of his head and plucked out one of his hairs.

Zheng Qing blinked angrily, but this time none of the elves fled.

They sang along, and each flew back into the house with a piece of hair.

Zheng Qing misses that terrifying old man a little.

It was a long time before the old man returned.

A tattered gray-white leather floated beside him.

If the skins sent by the elves look like they have been tanned and cleaned, they look neat and clean. Then this gray-white skin seemed to have just been peeled off from a certain demon beast, and there was still fresh blood and residual flesh hanging on it.

Zheng Qing looked creepy.

The old man snapped his fingers, and Zheng Qing was terrified to find that his right hand felt a burst of pain, and then his right hand stretched out uncontrollably in front of him. Five fingertips oozed dripping bright red.

"Press on this!" said the old man's voice coldly.

Zheng Qing suddenly found that his upper body could move.

He gritted his teeth and pressed his bleeding right hand against the skin.

The gray-white skin still felt warm to the touch, and for some reason a shadow of painful hissing appeared in Zheng Qing's mind.

The blood on the fingertips stuck to the flesh on the gray skin, and immediately fused together.

The gray-white skin seemed to come to life, squeaking and sucking the blood from Zheng Qing's fingertips, and swallowing all the bloody flesh left on the fur.

The old man stretched out his hand, hesitated for a moment, and then retracted it again, and took out a black law book.

He curled his index finger and tapped on the cover of the Dharma book.

The law book flipped to the middle part with a clatter, and the pages of the book were sprinkled with dots of gray light, and smooth gray runes slipped out.

The stars and runes formed a hideous gray claw in mid-air, aimed at Zheng Qing's chest and slowly stretched out, and then slowly closed.

A bit of black, inkdrop-like light floated out of Zheng Qing's chest, and in Zheng Qing's frightened sight, with the movement of the gray claw, he threw it into the leather that had begun to turn white under his hand.

The black ink dripped on the skin, and Zheng Qing's fingertips were in an uncontrollable pain, and he could even feel that the gradually discolored skin in his hand was greedily sucking his own blood.

Gradually, he felt dizzy in front of his eyes, as if he saw that the whole body of the white skin in front of him was burning.

The old man frowned, seeing that the flames on his skin were getting dimmer and dimmer, and finally couldn't help it, and stretched out his thin finger to poke Zheng Qing's chest.

"Knock, knock, knock, knock!" As if someone was beating a drum in his ear, Zheng Qing was shocked to his senses.

He felt his heart beating wildly.

Streams of fresh blood rushed to Zheng Qing's right arm, and then flowed down the five fingertips into the burning skin.

The flames above re-rose in bright colors.

It wasn't until Zheng Qing's face turned pale again, and his heart's beating became more and more irregular and weak, that the skin gradually stopped sucking blood.

The flames that danced on the leather gradually extinguished.