In the depths of Muling Peak, a ten-zhang high attic is hidden in the clouds and mist, and here is the important place of the Empty Sang Immortal Gate - Zangling Pavilion, if ordinary disciples have nothing important, they can't set foot casually.

In the deep and silent pavilion, there are rows of bookshelves neatly placed, with bamboo books, blue paper books, leather scrolls, and of course, more jade slips, simple but clean, and should be taken care of from time to time.

Qin Lao opened his eyes, got up from the recliner, picked up his cigarette pot and walked to the door.

Outside, the rain had just stopped all night, and the smell of grass mixed with dust came in through the crack in the door, refreshing people's hearts.

Outsiders think that the Tibetan Spirit Pavilion is a forbidden place for immortals, and Qin Lao, who is responsible for guarding the Tibetan Spirit Pavilion, is also extraordinary, but for Qin Lao, all he does every day is to open the door at the hour and close the door at the hour, and at most take care of the books and jade slips, in case those little guys who don't listen to discipline are smuggled out.

Every day, every year. When Qin Lao was young, he always felt that he couldn't do such boring work for three years, but he didn't expect that as soon as he entered this Tibetan Spirit Pavilion, he hadn't gone out for a hundred years.

Thinking of this, Qin Lao sighed slightly, took a puff of the smoke pot, and the dry and spicy smoke drifted into his throat and into the layers of wrinkles on his face.

He slowly removed the bolt of the door, stood aside, and pushed open two ebony doors, and the light from the outside world suddenly shone into the dim Tibetan Spirit Pavilion, and there was a very fine dust drifting.

Qin Lao squinted his eyes and looked at Mu Ling Peak after the rain in the distance of the Empty Sang Immortal Gate, and his heart seemed to have opened another sacrificial spirit meeting a few days ago, and a year had passed unconsciously. He took a puff of cigarette and was about to turn back to lie down on his bench, but he heard a clear voice coming:

"Senior, disciple Lingzhitang Chen Mo, broke through the first level of qi cultivation a few days ago, and came to seek spiritual arts. ”

A thin figure was standing outside the door, bowing respectfully to himself. Qin Lao glanced at this young man with cloudy eyes, he was indeed wearing a green shirt from Lingzhitang, but it was a little damp, it must have been here for a long time, and it was raining a little.

Qin Lao had already noticed that someone was waiting outside the pavilion, but he didn't care much about it, and he didn't open the door until dawn. Seeing that this person was quite polite, Qin Lao beckoned him and motioned for him to come in, while he slowly walked towards the recliner with a cigarette pot in his hand.

Looking at this slightly rickety old man, Chen Mo frowned a little, the moment he was examined by him just now, he actually had a feeling that his whole body was seen through by him, and what made him even more puzzled was that the spiritual power in the dantian seemed to become a little restless with this gaze, which was very strange.

However, Chen Mo didn't say much, just silently raised the corner of his robe and stepped over the high threshold of the Tibetan Spirit Pavilion. When I looked up, I saw that the old man was lying on the bench, staggering.

The stacked bookshelves in the pavilion are lined up one after another, neatly arranged, and the nose smells of rotten wood, giving people a quaint feeling.

He slowly stepped forward and came to a bookshelf, about to take down a jade slip from it, but the voice of the old man came from behind Leng Buding:

"Down, that's not what you see. ”

Chen Mo turned his head and saw the old man closing his eyes leisurely, and raised a thin index finger again, pointing to the depths of the Hidden Spirit Pavilion.

Looking in the direction, I saw that in the corner of the pavilion, countless books and jade slips were piled up in a mess, all of which were about to form a small mountain, and there was a lot of ash on the surface, and it seemed that no one had paid attention to it all year round.

He frowned slightly, and secretly said No wonder the senior brother said that it was useless to receive spiritual arts, and looking at this rough way of preservation, he knew that what was recorded in these books and jade slips was definitely not a useful thing.

Although the old man didn't speak, what he meant Chen Mo was also clear, it was nothing more than the rules of the sect, the spiritual skills that could be obtained after breaking through the first level of qi cultivation could only be selected from this pile of books and jade slips.

After thanking the old man, Chen Mo came to this corner, and he was not too dirty, he sat down cross-legged directly, took a book in his hand, and flipped through it.

The old man behind him opened his eyes again at some point, looking at this little guy, with a hint of fun in his cloudy eyes.

The sect does have rules, and after breaking through the first level of Qi training, the disciples can come to the Tibetan Spirit Pavilion to choose a spiritual technique. But after guarding the pavilion for a hundred years, how could Elder Qin not know that the spiritual techniques that the disciples could choose were only within the scope of this pile of rags.

It's not that he hasn't seen those disciples who think highly of themselves come to ask for spiritual arts, pretending to be respectful, but most of them glanced at the pile of books and jade slips, and their faces were as uncomfortable as eating flies, and after rolling their eyes twice, they hurriedly excused themselves and quit, and never came again.

After guarding the pavilion for a long time, he has never gone out, and Qin Lao is also happy to see these disciples eating deflated, and they have the right to be a pastime.

Although the little guy in front of him came early and looked diligent, he didn't know how long he could hold on in front of this pile of things?

Thinking of this, he closed his eyes again, leisurely recuperated, and no longer paid attention to it.

On the other hand, Chen Mo couldn't help but furrow deeper from the first book he opened.

"Blowing wind palm, inferior product, created by the firemaker of the empty mulberry fairy gate. ”

Looking at such an introduction, Chen Mo was relieved, no wonder these spiritual arts could be seen casually, it turned out that they were so unpopular, and the person who founded it didn't even leave a name.

After he finished reading this blowing palm, the whole person only felt a little crying and laughing. This spiritual technique only teaches people how to mobilize the aura and blow the fire in the furnace more vigorously, and nothing else does it.

"It's really..."

Chen Mo didn't think much about it, sighed and put it aside, and picked up the next one to look at.

"Splitting Stone Fist, inferior spiritual art, the author is unknown. ”

"Thunderbolt, Inferior Spirit"

"Blazing Sun ......"

Time passed slowly, Chen Mo looked at the pile of tattered books one by one, and suddenly realized that time had passed. Outside the pavilion, the sun after the rain slowly brightened and gradually dimmed, and the day had passed.

Like that "Blowing Wind Palm", these so-called spiritual arts are all of the same quality, don't look at some of the names, after reading it, you will find that they are still the same useless.

Chen Mo only felt strange, could it be that the spiritual technique rewarded by the sect was just this pile of things in front of him? I believe that even if someone reluctantly chooses a copy, they will not have the heart to cultivate this kind of thing, wouldn't that be a waste of disciples' time?

Qin Lao, who was recuperating, didn't know when he had sat up, and brought a pot of tea in his hand, during which he glanced at Chen Mo a few times, and secretly said that this little guy could still hold on to these things for a day, and he was already a lot stronger than many others.

Seeing that it was getting late, he coughed lightly: "It's not early, if you want to see it come back tomorrow." ”

Hearing Qin Lao's words, Chen Mo woke up like a dream, got up and rubbed his somewhat sore eyes, apologized slightly, and bowed to Qin Lao again, and then retired.

Closing the ebony door of the Tibetan Spirit Pavilion, Qin Lao glanced at the stack of books that Chen Mo had read, and found that this little guy was also serious at the end of the day, and he had even read a lot.

It's just that after understanding that these books and jade slips are just some boring and useless things, I shouldn't come back tomorrow.

Unexpectedly, when Qin Lao opened the door as usual the next day, he found Chen Mo standing respectfully outside the door again.

"Here you go again, haven't you seen enough yesterday?" he asked casually, and without waiting for Chen Mo to answer, he turned around and walked away with his hands behind his back, and also got out of the way.

Chen Mo didn't care about the old man's attitude, he only came for those books in his heart. Stepping into the Tibetan Spirit Pavilion again, Chen Mo went straight to the pile of hills that he had looked through yesterday, sat down cross-legged, and looked directly at it as before.

When he returned to his residence yesterday, Chen Mo, who had read a book for a day, was a little tired, and he was a little disappointed with the so-called spiritual skills given by the sect, but after drinking a bowl of Linggu porridge and practicing all night, he felt that he couldn't just forget it, so he came to the door early and began to read.

After reading this pile of books, it would take ten days to read even ten lines at a glance. Many of the disciples in the sect also held out for a few days, but when they found that these books did not have a complete spiritual body at all, they did not waste their time here.

But Chen Mo persevered day by day, and during this period, many disciples came to receive spiritual techniques and exercises, and seeing Chen Mo's painstaking reading, many people recognized this guy as the Chen Mo who came back to the limelight on the Spirit Festival, and they were a little curious about what he was doing.

When they saw the pile of dusty books in front of him, they couldn't cry or laugh again, why hadn't they read these books before, they were full of half-useless spiritual arts, it was a waste of time to look at these things, was this Chen Mo smart or stupid?

Chen Mo has never cared about the eyes of others, and the more he reads these books, the more he feels that there is something strange in them. It is true that these books are boring and boring, and it is not easy to insist on reading them for a day, Chen Mo has read them for so many days, and he has long known that the records in these books are indeed some useless things, but what Chen Mo can't figure out is how the Immortal Sect would give these books as a reward after the disciple broke through the first level of Qi cultivation?

But he is not ready to give up, since one thing has already begun, then Chen Mo will not give up halfway.

Day by day, Qin Lao looked at Chen Mo's back more and more times, and the expression he saw when he opened the door every day and saw Chen Mo there became more and more strange.

When Chen Mo persisted until the fifth day and appeared outside the Hidden Spirit Pavilion on time, Qin Lao couldn't help but put down the smoking pot and asked:

"I said that you kid has something wrong with his head, can't you see that these are not 'exercises' or 'spiritual arts'?"

Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, this was probably the longest sentence that Qin Lao had said to him in the past few days, and then replied respectfully:

The disciple saw it. ”

"Then what are you still looking at here?" Qin Lao asked as he stood within the threshold and glared at Chen Mo.

"If the sect asks you to see it, the disciples will see it. Chen Mo replied honestly, and he didn't feel that it was inappropriate.

"Hmph. I don't know whether to be angry or laughing, Qin Lao turned around noncommittally, walked away with his back bent, and lay on the bench as usual.

Chen Mo also entered the Hidden Spirit Pavilion as usual and began to look through the pile of books again. He has read more and more books, almost more than half of them, although they are not of great use, but Chen Mo has taken the dross and the essence of it, and he has also gained a point or two of knowledge.

The day passed quickly, and what was a little unusual was that when the sun had just set, Chen Mo stood up, patted the dust on his clothes, and prepared to leave.

Qin Lao on the side was a little strange, this little guy didn't leave until he drove him away for five days, why did he put his mind away early?

"Finally gave up?

Old man Qin leaned back on the recliner and said without raising his eyelids, as if he had expected such a situation.

Unexpectedly, Chen Mo froze for a moment, then shook his head, and replied respectfully:

"Will be back tomorrow. ”

"You kid..."Old Qin didn't expect Chen Mo to answer so naturally, since he knew that he was disturbing me, then why did he come tomorrow?

"Alright, let's go. ”

Qin Lao waved his hand like a fly, as if he wished that Chen Mo would leave quickly.

But looking at Chen Mo's back, a few traces of brilliance appeared in Qin Lao's cloudy eyes. He flipped his wrist, and out of nowhere came a few thin pieces of fiery red jade slips in his hand.

With a casual throw, these jade slips flew into the pile of books that Chen Mo hadn't read yet.

After doing these things, Qin Lao yawned as if nothing had happened, turned over and seemed to be asleep.