The person pointed to by the head was an old woman, her eyes were slightly dim, and she stared at the old one and said: "Although the senior cultivation is to the sky, how can my Baiyun Sect be the school you pointed out!"

The old man muttered a few words, and quite impatiently took out a dirty storage bag from his arms, rummaged in it for a long time, and took out a black wooden sign, which still had some oil stains and vegetable leaves hanging on it, and he threw it away, and was caught by the old woman in his hand.

When the old woman saw the token, her face immediately changed, and she said in a lost voice: "Ancestral Spirit Card!"

The middle-aged scribe immediately reached out and took this token, and played a magic trick on it, and suddenly this token flashed with colorful light, and it did not disperse for a long time, and the middle-aged scribe immediately smiled bitterly, and said respectfully to the old man: "Since the seniors hold the ancestral spirit card, the juniors and others should practice it, but seniors, can you be sure, use this ancestral spirit card in exchange for my Baiyun Sect Transformation God Monk to help your disciple comprehend the artistic conception?"

The old man glanced at Wang Lin proudly, buttoned his nose, snorted lightly at the middle-aged scribe, and said with a big sting: "Nonsense, hurry up, you, come out!" he said, pointing at the old woman.

The old woman was silent for a while, nodded respectfully, took a few steps, showed a complicated light in her eyes, glanced at Wang Lin, and said: "You have a good master, when the old woman and I turned into gods, if I could have the opportunity to understand the artistic conception, I would definitely be able to take a lot of detours, alas!" As she spoke, she opened her mouth and spit out a stream of pink aura, which immediately filled the surroundings with bursts of fragrance.

At the same time, the pink aura was as fast as an arrow from the string, and when it was three inches away from Wang Lin's body, it suddenly turned into a cloud of pink mist, enveloping Wang Lin inside.

"The artistic conception of the old woman, you slowly understand it!"

In that pink mist, Wang Lin suddenly had a warm feeling, and the spiritual power and primordial infant in his body slowly revealed a trace of laziness under this warm feeling.

It was as if everything was killing, and even the determination to cultivate into a god had become ethereal at this moment, and under this feeling, Wang Lin even felt a sense of drowsiness.

It's as if everything in the world has become dispensable.

But at this moment, a blood ball in his storage bag suddenly flew out of the storage bag automatically, followed Wang Lin's palm, and merged into his body in a flash.

Immediately afterwards, a violent evil qi, like a pot of cold water spilling from his head, made Wang Lin wake up immediately, and at the moment he woke up, the evil qi suddenly filled his body.

The old woman sighed lightly, summoned her right hand, and withdrew the pink aura.

Wang Lin took a deep breath, if it weren't for the evil qi blood ball just now, he would have been completely immersed in the other party's artistic conception, this feeling was extremely terrifying, for the god cultivator, in addition to the original fear, he was more cautious.

The old woman glanced at Wang Lin, stepped back, and stopped talking.

At this time, the old man's eyes swept away, and finally landed on an old man in a green shirt standing in the distance, his eyes suddenly lit up, he smiled, and said: "You, come here, your artistic conception is a little special, after understanding, we will leave and no longer bother you." ”

The old man raised his head, didn't even look at Wang Lin, and said flatly: "My artistic conception, he can't bear it!"

The old man raised his eyebrows, waved his big hand, and said: "Fart, with Lao Tzu on the side, even if you Baiyun Sect's Baiyun Old Dao comes in person, Lao Tzu can resist it!" After speaking, he secretly glanced at the depths of Baiyun Sect.

The old man in the green shirt didn't say much, but slapped his forehead, and suddenly a black hole opened in the center of his eyebrows, and a flying sword the size of a palm in his hand galloped out, turning into a bolt of lightning, and came to Wang Lin in an instant.

Its speed is simply impossible to resist, Wang Lin's face is a little ugly, if the forbidden flag is opened, it may be able to block one or two, but obviously, in the end, it can't be delayed for too long!

But Wang Lin was also not afraid, although he said that he could not resist, but if he really moved his hands, with the filaments of the Heavenly Tribulation in his hands, these god-transforming monks, even if they had the power of the earth, they would all have to be a little scrupulous.

For example, this flying sword, Wang Lin only needs to sacrifice the Heavenly Tribulation now, and the other party will definitely stop the flying sword attack, otherwise, it can only be the same end.

When the flying sword of the green-shirted monk was still a zhang away from Wang Lin's body, a breath of killing came to his face, and in this killing aura, there was also a trace of strange artistic conception!

This artistic conception is very different from the previous two, as if with a trace of the power of heaven and earth, Wang Lin immediately noticed that the spiritual power in the body actually has the phenomenon of exhaustion, if these spiritual powers are compared to with vitality, then under the artistic conception of the other party, its vitality is passing rapidly.

This strange artistic conception made Wang Lin's face finally change greatly, this artistic conception is only acting on spiritual power, if it can be used on Shouyuan, then it can definitely be called a horror against the sky.

The green-shirted monk's face was flat, his right hand was summoned, and he suddenly flew the sword and retreated, returned to the old man's side, disappeared between his eyebrows, and he said slowly: "The old man's artistic conception is the years!"

The old man's gaze froze, falling on this person, he just felt this old man in green shirts before

The movement is a little weird, and then the analysis of its artistic conception is definitely extraordinary, but it is also the artistic conception of no one, it is actually the passage of time!

He took a deep breath, the dirty meaning on his face suddenly disappeared, at this time, he looked quite majestic, that emaciated face, although it was a little dirty, but these mundane things, at all, could not hide a trace of this person's heroic aura.

Wang Lin had a delusion for a while, this old man seemed to have completely changed in an instant, if he was said to be a master from the Vermilion Bird Country at this time, Wang Lin would not be too nostalgic.

"What a god artistic conception, if you can achieve the top in this life, then the power of this artistic conception will be against the sky! Ancestral spirits, take them, say goodbye!" The old man took a deep breath, his body moved, came to Wang Lin's side, grabbed him, and the two of them suddenly disappeared in place, and when they reappeared, they were already in a remote place in Kyoto City.

After the two appeared, the old man suddenly panted like a cow, his tired face was pale, but he still showed a smug look, and sometimes aimed his eyes at Wang Lin, obviously waiting for Wang Lin to praise him.

At this time, where is he still the master style just now, Wang Lin took off his straw hat quite helplessly, threw it into the storage bag, and said: "The seniors are amazing, but the younger generations have only seen them in their lives, admire, admire!"

The old man rolled his eyes and said dissatisfiedly, "You would say that?"

Wang Lin was silent and smiled bitterly, in his life, where did he say anything flattering, at this time, he thought about it for a long time, and he really didn't know how to say it.

The old man gasped, waved his hand, and said, "Come on, the artistic conception is over, you go back, remember to hurry up to the transformation period, so that I can carve wood carving." ”

As he spoke, he turned to leave.

Wang Lin pondered a little, and seeing that the old man was about to go away, he opened his mouth and said, "Senior, what is that ancestral spirit card?"

The old man glanced back at Wang Lin, smiled proudly, and said, "That broken thing, it's nothing, I have a lot of it here!" As he spoke, he took out a large push of various tokens from his storage bag and continued: "This is from the Heavenly Escape Sect, this is from the Spirit Mist Sect, this is from the fourth-level Xiuzhen Kingdom Troll Clan, and this is the fifth-level Xiuzhen Kingdom ......"

Wang Lin looked at him blankly and tirelessly introduced the tokens one by one, the smug color in the old man's eyebrows became stronger and stronger, this scene was as if the thing in his hand was his favorite toy.

In the end, the old man flipped his right hand, took out a blank token, and said: "In addition to these, which sect of tokens do you want, I will make them for you, hehe, Lao Tzu over the years, I don't know how many of these things have been sold, you go and inquire, my reputation is nothing to say, do you want to buy one?"

Wang Lin was silent, glanced at the old man, and turned to leave.

The old man shouted in the back for a long time, then muttered a few words, put away the tokens one by one, and said: "These things, but Lao Tzu's inventory, hum, you don't know the goods, I won't sell them to you!"

Wang Lin went straight all the way, returned to the shop, sat cross-legged by the fire, the surroundings were quiet, in this silent environment, his mind flashed the different artistic conceptions of the previous three Divine Transformation Stage monks, slowly, his whole person was immersed in it, quietly realized.

The ruthless realm of the middle-aged scribe, the comfort of the old woman, and the realm of the years of the old man in the green shirt all echoed in Wang Lin's mind one by one, and gradually, Wang Lin vaguely had a trace of enlightenment.

So, what should be your own artistic conception...... Wang Lin closed his eyes, and the whole person suddenly became a little different at this moment, and after a long time, Wang Lin opened his eyes, picked up a wooden segment, and waved a knife in his right hand to carve it.

Sawdust flew down, the carving knife in his hand was like flowing water, a knife did not pause for half a minute, and gradually, a figure with one hand pinched the trick appeared on the wood carving.

Wang Lin's eyes showed a hint of concentration, at this moment, everything around him could not affect Wang Lin's mood, what he thought in his head, what he saw in his eyes, all was the ruthless state of the middle-aged scribe.

The sawdust on the ground gradually increased, and the carving knife in Wang Lin's hand became faster and faster, and finally there was almost an afterimage of the knife, and after a long time, suddenly, Wang Lin's right hand was stunned, and the carving knife in his hand snapped, breaking from the middle, and the broken tip of the knife crossed a bright light, rotating and stabbing on the wooden frame on the side, making a buzzing sound.

For all this, Wang Lin didn't pay any attention, he couldn't take his eyes off the wood carving in his hand, this wood carving had already taken shape, the middle-aged scribe was lifelike, his right hand pinched the trick, on his body, shrouded in a desperate breath, but this breath was not exposed, all converged.

Wang Lin slowly closed his eyes, felt for a long time, and gently put the wood carving of the middle-aged scribe in his hand on the ground.

"It's still a little ......," Wang Lin muttered to himself.