Meng Han took the book given by his husband and read it in the bookstore. The book is thin, only a few pages are made of silk paper, and the whole book is very light, with a golden cover and a few large black letters on it, "Brief Spells".

Meng Han couldn't wait to start flipping through it, sometimes frowning and sometimes smiling, and it didn't take long to finish it. According to the book, not everyone can learn the 'technique', and must be born with a 'root', which is the center of the body's 'qi', and only the existence of the 'root' can make the 'qi' produced by itself condense and not disperse. Ordinary people do not have 'roots', and the 'qi' they produce is like duckweed, which disperses when it encounters the wind. Therefore, they can only choose the path of martial artists or the mysterious thaumaturgy of the Western Regions.

There are many types of 'arts', and each of the hundreds of schools of thought has its own differences, and if you want to perform the 'arts' of each school, you need to read a lot of books, and they are from each school. At the same time, it is almost impossible to not only memorize, but also to understand the teachings of the various schools. Therefore, the book points out that you should not be greedy, but should specialize in the 'art' industry.

According to the book, Meng Han suddenly held his breath and concentrated, and used the "thoughts" generated by his heart to control his essence and communicate with the outside world to see if there was anything resonant. At first, no matter how much I tried, I couldn't experience the feeling recorded in the book, and I couldn't calm down.

Meng Han remembered the method mentioned in the "Rite", cleaning hands and burning incense. It didn't take long for Meng Han to fall into a very strange feeling, which was very comfortable, and he couldn't help but want to moan a few times, but thinking of his purpose, he quickly stopped his mind and controlled his 'qi' to feel the situation in the outside world according to the book. I saw an invisible wisp of 'qi' floating out of my head, and the feeling of dream cold also moved with this 'qi'. The 'qi' first moved to the brush on the desk, and the whole body of the brush emitted a faint light, and if you felt it carefully, you could hear the faint sound of breathing and the same frequency as the heart.

Is this the resonance? Meng Han felt a little excited, he didn't expect that he actually succeeded, maybe his 'instrument' is this pen, Meng Han thought so. After a while, what I didn't expect was that the 'qi' moved to the paper next to it, and the paper also happened in the same situation as the brush, and the book didn't say that a person can have two forms of 'instrument'? But what is not over is that the 'qi' then moved to the ink and inkstone on the table, Meng Han was numb, the twelve-year-old didn't think it was so complicated, maybe it was not detailed in the book, he thought so.

At this time, the book in his mind shone with a strange light, and the words on the cover became clearer and clearer, until it was fully revealed, and it was clear that there was only one word—the Sutra.

Meng Han didn't notice that the wisp of 'qi' moved to a book again, and the situation generated on the book was very different from the previous one, and the light emitted was almost substantial, and suddenly Meng Han felt that his mind was uncontrollably pulled by that book. To Menghan's surprise, his resonance with the book was so strong, "Puff, puff" He seemed to hear the beating sound of his heart, the beating sound was getting faster and faster, Menghan's mind wanted to take it back but couldn't achieve it, he was scared, wanted to call Mr., but found that he couldn't make a sound. The beating sound is getting louder and faster. Meng Han's mind became more and more tired, and finally he lost his senses and knew nothing.

Underneath the mountain is a small town, and the town and the mountain seem to be two worlds. At this time, the town is covered with goose-feather snow at night, which hides the noise of the day, adding a bit of silence to the night. At this time, only a few houses were still swaying in the wind and snow, and the big yellow dog outside the door of one family was lazily shrunk and lying in the nest, with his upper and lower eyelids casually.

There was a sound in the distance, and the big yellow dog suddenly opened its eyes, stood up and stared warily at the distant sound, it judged from its years of experience that it was footsteps, but it felt a chill, which made it feel ashamed, so it roared a few times in a voice that it could only hear. The footsteps are getting closer and closer, and the big yellow dog is staring at the wind and snow tightly, and it is getting more and more nervous, suddenly, the big yellow dog's eyes shrank, and it saw a figure stepping on the snow from the broken bridge at the entrance of the town. As the figure approached, the town suddenly became very quiet, only the sound of wind and snow. The big yellow dog it prepares,

The footsteps were closer, the figure was getting clearer and clearer, and the big yellow dog was even more frightened. The big yellow dog saw it, the first to see the man's eyes, what kind of eyes were they, the big yellow dog found that he seemed to have made a mistake, only to see that the man glanced at himself, he couldn't move, and his body was not under his control. It lowered its head pitifully, trembling all over, closer, closer, the big yellow dog's heartbeat became faster and faster, its head lowered and lowered, and its body trembled more and more. But the man walked in the direction of the mountain without moving, and after a while, he heard footsteps far away, and walked towards the mountain, and the big yellow dog crawled towards the kennel on trembling legs, and did not pay attention to the figure that walked towards the mountain.

The figure didn't deliberately control the sound of his footsteps, and walked casually towards the mountain. Up close, the figure was a middle-aged man of medium stature, and when he looked closely, he was carrying a wrapped knife on his back, leaving only the hilt. The ordinary face, with a few strands of hair covering the forehead, was nothing out of the ordinary, except for a few scars on the face and a hint of bloodlust added to the magical eyes. The wind and snow didn't seem to affect his vision, and he looked at the mountain in the distance and walked straight away, as if there was nothing worth stopping and watching.

Walking out of the town, it was silent, only the sound of wind and snow from time to time, and it was getting closer and closer to the mountains, and the candlelight in the town behind was gradually extinguished, only the endless darkness and the sound of wind and snow. It didn't take long for us to reach the foot of the mountain, where there was not a trace of wind and snow ahead, only the silence of the mountain forest and the occasional sound of cicadas. Seeing this, Gu Jing Bubo's eyes suddenly shrank, as if he had some interest in this.

Suddenly, he stopped at the foot of the mountain, as if waiting for something.

"Alas, you're still here, isn't he still dead?" suddenly an old sigh sounded in the wind and snow behind the man.

"I'm still here"