What is a thought? How can I get there? Meng Han frowned and pondered, he didn't notice that the sound of breathing in the clouds below was a little different from just now, there was a kind of excitement in the breathing, but it was gradually low and inaudible.

Suddenly, there was a little light in the clouds below, and it flew up quickly. The gentleman of the book house felt the abnormality behind him, and saw that he didn't know where to take out the pen and quickly wrote a "disease" in the air, and his body suddenly became lighter, and he rushed towards the cliff behind, and at the same time Meng Han was awakened by the harsh sound of the high-speed flight friction of the bright light, listening to the sound in the clouds from far and near, Meng Han looked at the clouds in front with wide eyes, and his heart was full of fear of the unknown. The voice got closer and closer, and suddenly a small black dot rushed out of the clouds, and before he could see clearly, it burrowed into Menghan's forehead, and the sharp pain in his brain made Menghan suddenly faint.

It wasn't long before the sound of breathing came from the clouds below the cliff, as if nothing had just happened. The figure of the gentleman stopped on the edge of Menghan, if Menghan was awake, he would find that the gentleman at this time looked a little old, refreshed, and exuded a square atmosphere. After checking that Meng Han's body was fine, he searched carefully on the edge of the cliff and found nothing. Looking at the clouds and mist below the cliff, he muttered, "This guy has been a little abnormal recently, and he has started to be restless again, fortunately, there are no major problems with the formation, otherwise it will be another bloody storm, alas!"

Returning to Menghan's side, the old gentleman looked at the delicate little face in a coma, and his wrinkled face showed a kind of doting. Thinking of Menghan's life experience, the old gentleman sighed, waved his long sleeves, and Menghan's body floated in the air, following the old gentleman's old but upright back to the bottom of the mountain.

I don't know how long it took, Meng Han opened his big eyes with difficulty, rubbed his still painful head with his thin little hands, looked at the familiar bed, thought of what happened at the top of the mountain, and felt a little dazed. He only knew that he saw a book in a dream, the book was a black cover, but the title of the book could not be seen clearly no matter how he looked at it, in the dream he wanted to reach out and take it, obviously he felt very close, but he couldn't reach it, which reminded him of what Mr. once said, the thirteen-year-old boy was curious and innocent, and he really couldn't help it in the dream.

"Goo" heard the sound coming from his stomach, and Meng Han realized that he hadn't eaten for a long time, so he got dressed, pushed open the dilapidated door, and saw the food on the table in the lobby, and immediately swallowed his mouth. Regardless of three, seven, twenty-one, he stepped forward directly and stuffed it into his stomach. After eating, he realized that his husband had been absent and did not know where he had gone. He only remembered that after being at the top of the mountain, he didn't have Mr., Mr. once said that Menghan was an orphan, he picked it up from under the mountain, Menghan and Mr. have depended on each other for many years, and gradually got used to his own life experience. At this time, Mr. was not there, and Meng Han's beautiful face blinked his cute big eyes to show a thoughtful look, which made people can't help but feel pity. After thinking about the strange things on the top of the mountain, he didn't have the slightest clue, and he didn't bother to think about it. After tidying up the house, I went up the hill to the library.

In the book room, he saw his husband, who was lying on a chair squinting and holding a book he did not recognize. When the gentleman heard the footsteps, he didn't see any movement from him, but just said, "Do you want to learn 'art'?" Meng Han hurriedly walked to his husband's side, leaned sideways, and asked, "What is 'technique'?"

"'Technique' is the birth of thoughts, borrowing the power of nature with its own qi, you are optimistic" Mr. took out the gold pen that he didn't know where to hide again, this time he didn't write in the air, Meng Han's eyes widened and he saw the pen clearly for the first time, the pen barrel didn't know what it was made of, although it was black throughout, but there were a few white fine lines in the black that were irregularly distributed, and it couldn't be seen if you didn't look carefully. I saw that the tip of the pen gradually poured out golden water droplets, yes, golden water droplets, golden water droplets got bigger and bigger, and finally condensed into the size of a fist. This is the voice of Mr. again: "'Technique' is born of thought, and 'thought' is born of the heart, but what is the complexity of the mystery of the human body, and the qi generated by 'thought' cannot directly communicate with heaven and earth, so it needs the help of 'instrument', which is the thing that can resonate with its own qi and external objects." The form of the 'instrument' can be all things, and my pen is the 'instrument', which is made of a special crystal. 'Instrument' can be divided into tangible and intangible, tangible 'vessel' due to the different materials and processes of production, the effect of 'vessel' is different, can be divided into 'small vessel' and 'large vessel', small and large by the measurement. The invisible 'instrument' is a higher realm, so we must strengthen our own cultivation and reach the realm of a gentleman. Tangible means degree, and degree must be full. Therefore, the gentleman's thinking is not instrumental, the gentleman's behavior is not instrumental, and the gentleman's quantity is not instrumental. The qi produced by itself cannot be tolerated by the tangible 'instrument', and it will become intangible. ”

"Then how should the human body's own qi be cultivated?" Meng Han asked his own question again.

"The qi of the human body is the size of 'thought', how do you say to cultivate?" Mr. threw the question to Meng Han again. Meng Han thought for a while and sorted out his thoughts, "'Thought' is born from the heart, which means that we have to practice 'heart', but 'heart' is an invisible thing, so how should we cultivate?" Meng Han was even more confused. "The invisible can be turned into the tangible, the warrior has blood, and there is evil in the blood, so they can only continue to hone and kill, so their 'heart' is cultivated, and the pursuit is the limit of martial arts, and the body is sanctified. And we scholars have a strong and righteous spirit, the stronger the person, the more powerful you will find that your evil thoughts are suppressed when you get closer, such as the feeling of the spring breeze, we major in the essence of the spirit, ** is relatively weak, so you need the help of 'art'. Legend has it that the thaumaturgy of the Western Regions is different from ours, you can experience it yourself when you meet it in the future, the three thousand avenues are different, but they all end up the same," Mr. explained patiently.

"Then how do we distinguish our levels?" Meng Han looked at Mr. curiously with wide eyes, Mr. stood up and touched his snow-white beard, looked at the evening sky, and sighed, "How complicated are the Three Thousand Avenues, each with its own peculiarities, how can it be summarized? Just as the soil under your feet is like the end, the sand that composes it is like the avenue, and every grain of sand is the same, and this is the magic of nature. At the same time, it also tells us to have a heart of awe, and a mountain is even higher. This is some of the contents of the 'technique', you can take it and take a look, and if you don't understand, come and ask me" After speaking, Mr. gave the book in his hand to Meng Han, shook his head and walked away.

Meng Han was immediately attracted by this book, and did not hear Mr. say to himself, "Is this right or wrong?" Alas!", at this time, the thing in the cloud and mist below the cliff seemed to hear Mr. sigh, and there was a hint of mockery in his breathing.