Wutong Temple, in front of the mountain gate.

The young man sat cross-legged, a silver spear shining coldly.

The whole temple is hidden from time to time, and next to the silver spear, there is also a picture scroll on the side.

Jiang Xiaoman was alone, holding a purple Guxun in one hand and an ancient book in the other.

He sat quietly in front of the temple gate, as if waiting for someone to arrive.

More than two hours passed after this sitting, but no one came.

It's evening, and the sunset over the mountains is at its most beautiful.

It is said that the remnant sun is bloody, and this sentence is not an exaggeration at all when it is placed on Qingluan Mountain at this time.

The dark red remnant sun fell in front of the temple along the gap between the pine and cypress needles, and also fell on the young man in front of the temple.

The temple behind him was terrifyingly quiet, and no one appeared on the seven hundred and seventy-seven stone steps that extended to the foot of the mountain in front of him.

The setting sun slowly stretched Jiang Xiaoman's shadow leaning on the temple gate, and then lengthened again.

It is as if, at this moment, there is only one teenager in this world.

Jiang Xiaoman didn't look at the ancient book in his hand, he would look up at the sky outside the mountain from time to time, and murmured in a low voice, "Come on, come soon......"

He didn't know who he was waiting for, whether it was his father or the unmasked sixth uncle.

In short, he knew that it would not be long before someone would go up the mountain, at most half an hour.

Zhanhai Zen Master and the only remaining ancestor in Wutong Temple who cultivated a golden body, the two of them actually deduced the same result.

At three o'clock, the catastrophe came.

This catastrophe started because of the Wutong Temple, and naturally ended in the Wutong Temple.

In the picture scroll that was pressed by the gentian silver spear, a weak cry came from this moment: "Little boy, we know that we are wrong, please spare us this time for the sake of our sixth uncle's subordinates." ”

Bai Xian was trapped in this scroll opened up with the Buddhist supernatural power Sumeru mustard seeds, and he could clearly see the real world outside the scroll through the sky in the scroll.

Before coming to the borderland, he had seen a portrait of a young man sitting cross-legged outside the scroll in Ling Tianhou's Mansion.

Naturally, he knew that this young man was one of the few people he didn't dare to offend among the young generation in the border area, the little son of the Vermilion Bird City Flame Overseer's Mansion, Jiang Xiaoman.

I couldn't help but feel a little bitter inexplicably, in the picture scroll of Bai Xian's body, everything was so real, just like being in a temple where the Buddha's spirit was manifested.

But like a ghost hitting a wall, he could only see the real world reflected in the sky, but beside him was like a mirrored lake.

As you go, every step you take comes back to where you are.

The group of seven people, including the old Wu Ge who had cultivated well, could clearly sense that they were beside him, but no matter how they shouted, they couldn't hear each other's voices.

Outside the picture scroll, the young man sitting cross-legged, even if he was just whispering to himself at the moment, fell on the ears of Bai Xian and several people, but he was as deafening as the roar of a lion in Buddhism.

Jiang Xiaoman could naturally hear the cry for help in the scroll, but even if he heard it, he would pretend not to hear it.

Dragons have reverse scales, and although Jiang Xiaoman is not a dragon, he also has reverse scales.

The relatives and friends around him are all his counter-scales.

Bai Xian's arrogant attitude in front of Zen Master Zhanhai earlier naturally fell into the eyes of the young man hidden in the void.

Whether it is Xiao Ying or Zhanhai Zen Master, in Jiang Xiaoman's eyes, he can be regarded as his friend, and naturally he can be called one of his reverse scales.

Therefore, he naturally didn't have much good impression of Bai Xian and his party.

That picture scroll is just to suppress people, and Buddhism pays more attention to compassion, so unless it is used to deal with the great traitors and evildoers.

Otherwise, most of them won't hurt too much.

But even so, the law of time in the picture scroll alone is enough to drive people crazy.

It's not just time, in the world of the Sumeru ring, even space will stand still.

It's like locking people in a mirror, the outside world is only for a minute, but in the mirror it is already like a thousand years ago.

This feeling is the most maddening.

Right now, except for the old man surnamed Wu and Bai Xian who are sitting cross-legged.

The rest of them are in their own madness.

Among them, Xiu was the weakest, kneeling on the ground, constantly tearing his hair and crying to the sky.

Jiang Xiaoman was indifferent, ignored it, and simply closed the scroll completely, closing the last trace of contact with the outside world.

It's like night and day.

In him, you can see the innocence and kindness unique to a carefree child.

Similarly, under this naivety, if you look closely, you can also see a coldness and decisiveness.

The sky was getting darker and darker, and without Bai Xian's noisy shouts in the young man's ears in the picture scroll, the world became more and more quiet and terrifying.

Waiting is never a pleasant thing.

Because waiting is inherently unknown, you can never know what it will be.

This is the case, even the Tianji Tower, which claims to know everything in the world.

Because the heavenly machine itself is nothing but a prediction of the future.

Since it is foresight, there are too many variables.

It's like a long river that flows endlessly.

Along the way, there will be too many tributaries.

If you are not careful, your fate will swim like a fish into a tributary full of unknowns.

Or rather, the tributary itself is the river itself.

And the one who thought it was the mainstream of the long river before was a branch vein.

The wait is a long thing, so the teenager plans to do something to pass the time.

For the first time, Jiang Xiaoman put the Gu Xun to his lips.

The man who gave him this Gu Xun and Gu Score called himself Yun Zhongjun, said at the beginning that there are hundreds of musical instruments in this world, and the most touching ones are nothing more than three kinds of heaven, earth, and man.

Guqin is a natural sound, Xiao and Pipa belong to human sounds, and Xun is an earthly sound.

The sound of nature reverberates elegantly, and the voice of people complains of sadness.

There is only the sound of the earth, a song on the poor nine heavens and nine springs down.

Although the musical instrument is a one-size-fits-all language, you only need to be proficient in one of them to be able to understand a hundred kinds.

But Jiang Xiaoman has been lazy since he was a child, but he doesn't even know the most basic bamboo flute.

Fortunately, although he is not familiar with musical instruments, he can read music, thanks to the young mother, the county lord who has returned to the ruins country, and is skilled in piano, chess, calligraphy and painting.

Jiang Xiaoman followed his mother, and more or less learned how to recognize the music score.

The Xun song is not difficult, but the tone recorded on the ancient score is too high, and it cannot be played unless there is strong strength.

Fortunately, Jiang Xiaoman's cultivation is not bad now, and the most important thing is strength.

When Xun was put to his mouth, Jiang Xiaoman, who had no reason, followed the ancient score of the famous work "Calling the Rain" that had been deeply remembered in his mind.

The slender fingers slowly slid down, caressing the body of the xun, and finally landed on the hollow at the bottom of the ancient xun.

I have to say that the young man's hands, even if they are covered with calluses between his fingers because of years of gun practice, are still slender and slender.

These hands can not only hold a gun.

At this moment, it is also full of a masculine beauty.

With the swing between the fingers, the simple and melodious sound of Xun swept through the world in an instant.

It is different from the tactful plucking of the guqin, and it is not like the harmony between Xiao and the pipa.

There is a taste of ancient years hidden in this Xunqu, just like a century-old tea that has just been brewed, with a pure and transparent aftertaste.

Suddenly, the wind rose.

The pines and cypresses in the mountains moved with the wind, and the sky was still clear, and there was not a single cloud in sight.

But with the sound of the young man's hand, the dark clouds swept in from the far sky in an instant, mixed with roaring thunder.

The torrential rain came suddenly, without the slightest warning, and the dark clouds above the sky completely obscured the remnant sun, and the raindrops the size of beans fell.

Splashing ink, raindrops fell from the sky, mixed with the cold mountain wind.

And the young man standing alone in front of the Zen monastery seemed to be insensitive, letting the rain hit behind him, unaware.

Jiang Xiaoman closed his eyes slightly, completely immersed in it, calm and calm, cool and quiet.

The fingers are still constantly swinging, as the notes continue to emerge in the head, either lightly or deeply.

This rain seems to be falling with the rhythm of this song.

When the sound of Xun is soft, the rain is like fine sand.

When the sound is low, it is like splashing ink.

......

Thousands of miles away, next to the Cangyue Lake, which straddles the north and south regions.

At this time, a middle-aged man in a white robe was sitting.

Dressed in a white robe, he leaned against a bluestone, holding a finely carved jade wine jug in his hand, looking tired.

Perhaps he had just drunk too much wine, and the middle-aged man closed his eyes slightly, half-asleep and half-awake.

Suddenly, I felt something.

He straightened up, looked at the Southern Regions from afar, the corners of his mouth were raised, and he whispered to himself: "It seems that the last time it was just unintentional, but it was to let the two 'old friends' meet the good master, and the child of the Jiang family really has a pure heart!"

Thinking of the young man who gave him pear blossom cake to eat in the deserted temple, he couldn't help but sigh lightly and smiled bitterly: "I don't know where my child is now, has he suffered hardships and sins......"

It was as if God wanted to punish him, a father who was neither a competent husband nor an incompetent man in the first place.

He knew that the boy must be in the Southern Regions now.

Several times, he could feel that the child was not far from him, in the same city.

But he just couldn't find it.

He didn't even know if the child was in human form or ......

Not wanting to think any further, he unscrewed the wine cork in his hand again, poured two sips into his mouth violently, and staggered down on the bluestone and died of drunkenness.

......

On the outskirts of Jincheng, deep in a dense forest.

A little donkey with four hooves fluttering lightly, playing with his life in the rain.

Behind it, there are dozens of mountain beasts, tigers, leopards, and jackals.

At this moment, they are all like docile kittens, obediently lying on the ground, not daring to move.

The tiger king, who was red and not an ordinary mountain beast at first glance, was lying in the front, and from time to time there would be one or two low whimpering sounds from his mouth, looking extremely pitiful.

These beasts all have a common trait, that is, when they look at the little black donkey, their eyes are full of horror, and they dare not resist at all.

With the rain falling, the little donkey's fur, which was originally as black as ink and without a bit of variegation, suddenly began to become mottled.

After a while, under the rain wash, the original color was revealed.

Gray and white, even if it is wet by the rain, the fur is as shiny as satin.

This little donkey who subdued the beast kings was the little gray gray that Ji Xiaoyue deliberately used ink to dye.

Since coming to Jincheng, he was raised by the little girl in the mountains and forests, but he didn't think about it but became the king of beasts.

If you look closely, the two small horns in front of the little donkey's forehead, which are as bright as jade, have grown a lot.

Even the thick sideburns on the forehead can only be faintly covered.

"Roar!"

Suddenly, the little gray roared in the sky.

It wasn't the sound of 'goose' and 'goose' when he quarreled with Jiang Xiaoman before, but it was more like a dragon groaning......

With this roar, not only the beasts behind it but the red giant tiger rolled their eyes and fainted.

Even the dark clouds that covered the sky seemed to have receded faintly.

......

A red treasure ship, emerging from the void, galloped forward, in the direction of Qingluan Mountain.

I was supposed to arrive a long time ago, but I was blocked by this sudden rainstorm.

As a last resort, the treasure ship slowly descended to the ground.

When the treasure ship completely landed, a person slowly walked out of the cabin.

The scribe was dressed as a pale face, and it was the Mr. Yun that Ling Tianhou Jiang Zhan relied on the most.

Mr. Yun looked up at the sky, letting the rain fall on his face, and looked puzzled.

If you become a prince, you can control the weather in a hundred miles.

It's sunny or cloudy, but it's just a thought.

Fangcai, in the cabin.

He and Jiang Zhan tried several times, even if the two joined forces, they still couldn't let this sudden rainstorm stop.

In addition to the art of weft, Tianjilou has dabbled in Qimen Dunjia, and naturally knows how to observe clouds and measure rain.

Above the firmament, there were only a few fiery clouds.

It stands to reason that there should be no rain for at least the next six to seven days.

But I didn't want the storm to come so suddenly and so violently.

finally couldn't help it, closed his eyes and stretched out his hand to calculate carefully.

Slowly opening his eyes, Mr. Yun's complexion couldn't help but change slightly.

Jiang Zhan walked out of the cabin with his hands in his hands, came to the middle-aged scribe's side, and asked softly, "Brother Yun, do you already know why this weather has suddenly become so abnormal?"

"In this life, the Southern Regions are really outstanding people!" The middle-aged scribe looked up at the sky, paused, and then sighed lightly, and said with some envy: "I don't know who it is, but it has been recognized by the Dragon Clan and learned the Dragon Clan's secret technique of cloud and rain." ”