The painting wall under the dusk is dyed with a touch of gold, and the twelve flying heavens seem to be bathed in the golden Buddha light, which is even more solemn and solemn.

Towards evening, the crowd in front of the painting wall was no longer the previous crowd, and only believers were kneeling on the ground chanting and praying. Zhuo Yuming had repeatedly looked back and forth three times in detail, but instead of triggering the throbbing of the Buddha's light in the sea of consciousness again, he also did not comprehend any doorway from the portrait. He is not in a hurry, anyway, the Buddha light lives in his brain, and there is always a chance to unveil it and see the true face of Lushan.

Suddenly, the heartstrings moved, Zhuo Yuming took a few steps back, sat cross-legged on the ground, and closed his eyes. After concentrating on the spirit, observe the image with divine consciousness.

The cultivation of qi in the world, the condensation of the spiritual power of the qi sea, the beating of the knots and tendons, and the refining of the divine consciousness of the sea are the three fundamentals of cultivation. Although there are very few supernatural powers in the world that specialize in divine consciousness killing, if a monk's divine sense is not stable enough, he will be impacted by other monks with his divine sense at any time, hurting the sea of consciousness. The damage to Zhihai is not a small injury, Zhihai is injured, and in serious cases, it is muddy, like an idiot, or implicated in the original god, and the god is destroyed. Therefore, in the void spirit realm, all the heavenly and earthly treasures or spiritual energy magic weapons that can benefit the divine consciousness are often priceless and hard to find. And those very few divine consciousness cultivation techniques are even more strange goods, and the various sect forces are regarded as treasures, and non-core disciples will not pass them on in person.

After the consciousness came out of his body, Zhuo Yuming once again carefully observed each of the flying portraits, whether it was dress, physiognomy, posture, or even the subtleties of the relief embellishments around the body.

As time passed, the golden sunset gradually fell to the horizon, and the sky became darker and darker.

Unconsciously, Zhuo Yuming's consciousness seemed to be a little sleepy, and his heart and eyes gradually dimmed, as if a thin layer of clouds and mist covered his eyes. Suddenly, the twelve flying statues on the painting wall began to move slightly. A statue of the flying Dharma body or flying in the air, or playing the flute and stroking the qin, or chanting with seals, or chanting with low eyebrows, bursts of Sanskrit sound into the ears, vaguely there are countless Buddhist proverbs like thunder and thunder, exploding on the heart lake. The consciousness became more and more blurred, as if drunk, and I felt that the world was spinning, and even the implication with the physical body of the deity gradually dissipated. Zhuo Yuming knew that he had fallen into some kind of demonic obstacle, and struggled to urge the pupil power of the blue eyes and white pupils to explore the delusion, but his divine consciousness was separated from his body, and now the connection with the deity was almost cut off, and he could not control the operation of the physical body at all.

Just when Zhuo Yuming's consciousness was deep and he couldn't extricate himself. The sea of clouds, mountains and mist in front of him suddenly seemed to be cut by a sword qi, and slowly rolled away to the sides, as if there was a pair of giant's palms in the dark, pushing this sea of fog to the left and right.

On the narrow road that broke through the clouds, there was a monk in a monk's robe sitting under a tree in the distance.

Zhuo Yuming's gaze slowly pushed closer, and he didn't stop until he was only twenty feet away from the monk's robe. What caught my eye was a withered old monk in bad clothes.

The pale green robe on the old monk's body has been worn gray, and the original magnolia dot is also dark brown, obviously this monk's robe is longer than this Xingyang City. Crossed over the feet of the knees was a pair of shabby grass shoes full of holes, through which you could see that the feet that had traveled thousands of miles had been covered with a layer of inky black with dust. The scrawny old monk folded his hands on his chest, his eyes drooped, and his withered face was full of compassion.

As if sensing the person in front of him, the old man opened his eyes slightly, looking at the person in front of him, his eyes soft.

"Born from no root, coming and going without a trace. There is no reason and no job, and the tribal cause and effect are walked. If you hear it, you will see me, and when you see me, you will see it. ”

The gentle and difficult to hide the old voice sounded in the ears, and it was the previous Buddha verse.

Zhuo Yuming was puzzled, and asked: "Dare to ask the master, what is the meaning of this, why does a little Buddha light fall on the younger generation in the painting wall?"

"Climb the mountain and meet the fairy, enter the temple to see the real Buddha. Climbing the mountain into the temple, seeing the immortals and seeing the Buddha, are all fateful laws, and they have their own cause and effect. The old monk whispered and answered the question.

"The younger generation really doesn't know the Buddha's principles, and I ask the master to understand it thoroughly. Listening to the old monk's sharp sentences, Zhuo Yuming was really big.

"There is a definite number of life and death, and the donor does not have to disturb himself. ”

After that, the old monk closed his eyes again, and let Zhuo Yuming shout again, but he didn't move.

Just when Zhuo Yuming was irritable in his heart, a golden Buddha light flashed, and the figure of the old monk dissipated under the tree. Instead, a thin, yellowish-faced young monk stood under a tree. The young monk is dressed in a new yellow robe, immaculately clean, and in his left hand carries a string of Buddhist beads carved from forty-two diamonds. The young monk's lips were furled, as if he was chanting silently, and between his eyebrows and eyes, a touch of sadness and compassion appeared in the corners of his eyes.

The chanting stopped suddenly, and the monk turned his head to look at the place where Zhuo Yuming's divine consciousness incarnation was, his face returned to calm, no sadness or joy, and his treasure was solemn.

"It seems that the person who has a little Buddha heart from Uncle Shi is you. The monk turned his gaze to the place where the old monk was sitting before, and muttered to himself: "Uncle Shi, after all, I feel that the Dharma of Liuchen is not pure enough, so I would rather give a little Buddha heart to this outsider?"

As soon as this young monk appeared, Zhuo Yuming's heart was shocked.

The ghost is coming.

The monk who suddenly appeared was none other than the ghost Rulai, one of the five emperors. Although compared to the ghost Rulai seen in the battlefield of the 100,000 Great Mountains, there seemed to be a slight lack of wind and frost marks in his face, and his robe was not as tattered and old as it was at that time, and even the rosary he was holding now was different from the style he had hung on his chest at that time, but Zhuo Yuming still recognized at a glance that this young monk was the ghost Rulai Liuchen he had seen at the head of the Demon Town.

He didn't understand why the ghost appeared in this illusion, but listening to what he had just said, it seemed that he had pursued the little Buddha light he had obtained for himself here, but he had not succeeded in it. And listen to him, the old monk who carved and painted this flying painting wall is actually the uncle of the ghost.

If the expectation is good, this should be the mustard seed illusion world opened up by the old monk with the supreme Buddhism, and he retains the last trace of his spiritual consciousness and that little bit of Buddha light in his life. Then seal this illusory small world that can only be entered by the incarnation of divine consciousness in that flying painting wall.

I got that Buddha light opportunity during the day, and it was only after I got out of my body that I was sucked into this small world. As for the ghost in front of him, he must be the same as the old monk, but a little spiritual consciousness left here rather than the ontology.

After figuring out the cause and effect, Zhuo Yuming took a deep breath, and the tense heartstrings finally relaxed. If it is the current ghost, whether it is the ontology or the projection of divine consciousness, I am afraid that it will be more auspicious and less auspicious. After all, Ghost Rulai was personally on the battlefield of the shemales, and others might not be able to perceive that they had sacrificed the Three Treasures of the Human Emperor, but how could such a celestial existence at the pinnacle of the First Realm not be aware of it.

Just when Zhuo Yuming put down the big stone in his heart, he found that the young monk under the tree suddenly raised his head and walked slowly towards him.

The young monk clasps his hands together and holds the beads between his palms, his eyes bright and his face peaceful. The monk's steps are light and slow, and the steps are lotus.