Ma Fengshan knelt on the soft seat, straightened his posture, held his breath, and quietly put his eyes on the table in front of him. There are neatly placed pen, ink, paper, inkstone, and four treasures of the study. The pen is Xuanzhou yellow-tip pen, the paper is Dezhou Lanxi paper, the ink is Xinzhou red pine smoke ink, and the inkstone is Nizhou river stone inkstone. They are all the finest treasures that Ma Fengshan couldn't imagine before, and it costs nearly a hundred taels of silver to prepare a set, but now it is a very ordinary consumable in his daily life.

And all this is because of the boy who was sitting on the top and bowing his head and flipping through the book.

Speaking of which, he looked like he was only sixteen years old, a year younger than himself. But Ma Fengshan didn't dare to despise it at all. Not only did he not dare, but none of the thirty-two students sitting in the main hall dared to make even the slightest sound. It is those true human leaders who are from various wealthy families, and they are usually high in mana, calling clouds and driving away rain, but here, in front of him, they are still silent.

A hundred days ago, Ma Fengshan was just an ordinary serf in the territory of Tanzhou, Jiangdong, Tang State. His family has been extended for twenty generations, all of whom are serfs of the Hai family, the overlord of Tanzhou, who were placed in a farmstead, and every link from birth to death was arranged. The son inherits his father's business, cultivates for generations, and then pays for the entire annual harvest, and then receives back the grain for the serfs from the steward of the farm. Mixed with wild vegetables, sweet potatoes, and miscellaneous grains, boiled into a paste, the family can always be hungry and survive year after year. Ma Fengshan thinks that his life may be like this, like everyone else around him, copying in a cycle. When he reached a certain age, he went to the steward, begged a girl of the right age from a nearby manor, begged to be his wife, and then built a new shack, got a new piece of land, and continued to struggle in the soil. As for whether the girl is a virgin or not, and whether her share of land will be too close to the wilderness and will be attacked by wild beasts, what is the point of all this?

yes, what's the point?

Until that day, that white cloud line cut the heavens and the earth, tore the sky, and subverted all the "natural" of the past.

The city of Mandala collapsed, 100,000 dead, the Hai clan, the clan. One hundred and seventy estates and 90,000 serfs under the name of the Hai family were liberated at one time. The army of the imperial court entered the country in the wind, and in only ten days, the chaos was pacified. And because he was accidentally hit by a meteor, he was tied up, washed in vain, stuffed into a carriage, and sent to this place.

Only then did Ma Fengshan know that his fate had completely changed.

The root of everything is the teenager in front of you. The more he knew, the more silent Ma Fengshan became; the more he knew, the more firm Ma Fengshan became; and the more enlightened, the more Ma Fengshan obeyed the rules of the academy.

Observe the sadhana, not more than a point, no less than a point, do it from the heart, act from the true self. Don't argue, don't argue, don't grab, don't be greedy, just be yourself.

So even though he is still illiterate, still ignorant of cultivation, and still ignorant of cultivation, he was personally selected by me to enter the [Upper Dao Class], and became the head of this class, and he is also the senior brother of this academy!

I don't care what those people say crooked!

I saw that his heart was calm, his heart was as steady as a rock, indestructible, and gradually introspected from the rules of the outside world, and became his own ritual. I don't know how to read, but I naturally fit the natural contract, but in strict accordance with the meditation method, breathing method, and meditation method I commanded, I don't do much, I do a lot, do it from the heart, respect me, and naturally find the aura that belongs to him, and then enter the door with a turn.

It is very rare, he is a single fire spiritual root, and the aura he obtained is called "Zhengyang Tongming Huo", which is exactly in line with a Taoist method of a sect that I have learned in the outside world.

The sword of the Confucian Haoran Zhengqi Sect.

So what I threw on his desk was a copy of the "Three Character Sutra". It is the simplest, but it is also the most elaborate on the philosophy of the Confucian sages from the smallest end, and frames the law of heaven and earth chosen by Confucianism.

I am not going to teach him too much, I will not teach him the thirteen classics of Confucianism, nor will I teach him the complex flow between the twenty-one schools of Confucianism, let alone the thousands of Taoism that have been inherited in Confucianism for 30,000 years. Even I myself won't talk to him much, and I don't allow others to talk to him more, but I just let him live and cultivate himself.

I can't say it, I have been raising swords for 30 years, and it also gave me a big surprise.

But since it is a sword raiser, then I always have to endure it for the last thirty years first, and I have to leave a room for him for thirty years.

I flipped through the book casually, my fingers tapping on the floor, and I almost sang.

Sure enough, a good book is a good book.

Just a few words are different, and the artistic conception of a poem is completely different. It turned out that I borrowed the power of the golden finger space, and I couldn't deduce what exquisite swordsmanship was hidden in the poem "Climbing the Yellow Mountain on September 9" that I collected. And now, four words have been corrected, from the original ascending to the sorrowful, it has become a wanderer thinking of his relatives and crying when he climbs high. Even now, I don't need the goldfinger space, but with my own eyes, I can see something strange.

The breath flows, caters to people's hearts, grasps an emotion, and Luo Tuozhong condenses into a sharp sword intent.

This sword kills a "melancholy"!

The sky is high and the earth is far away, and those who prevent me from climbing the mountain, and those who prevent me from venting my mind, just kill them.

It's a murderous day in the autumn wind.

In this way, my fingers played with a blue and faint aura, sneering through the air, and while picking up a huge pen with a big fist, dipped it in cinnabar, and the split surface fell on the white wall.

With my mind, along with my emotions, when I thought about that person the most, when I didn't know what I was already gloomy, bowing my head, sighing, I used that pen as a sword and wrote my "September Nine Climbing Yellow Mountain".

Raise your hand to smash the roof of the main hall and walk away.

Who am I thinking of?

Whoever gave birth to me is my mother, and whoever raised me is my mother. Even if I can kill through this small world, how can I kill through the world out there that is so absurd that I can't do anything about it? How can I kill through the time when I am already dead?

So I walked through the heavens and headed north to find some bad luck from people or monsters. Use their blood and lives to vent my powerlessness.

What was left behind was a group of students who looked at each other and were confused.

"Senior Brother Ma, what is Master Chen talking about in today's lesson?" A young girl waited until half an hour before she cautiously leaned towards Ma Fengshan and asked in a low voice.

I don't blame them, I have always been so free and easy, just like the kind of virtue that those foundation building elders on Lianyun Peak used to teach us. If I speak, you will listen, and if I do not speak, you will figure it out. What I did, you can write it down.

However, in the past, I always took my lectures seriously, and I would pick a few people out and throw a copy of "One Record a Day" to teach them some real things.

But today I really can't understand it.

Over there, however, the instructors are fast.

Princess Gao Yang was the first to draw her sword out, and directly cut the wall with words written on it, and beckoned a few of her subordinates, carefully but quickly, lifted it up and left.