The drunkard fell to his knees in front of the barren mound and stretched out his hand to pluck the dead grass from the grave, as meticulous as a thrush for a woman.

Seeing this, Xiao Chucai and Feng Mu saw that the deceased was the biggest, and they also knelt down in unison, Hua Qingfeng talked to himself, completely ignoring the two people next to him who looked at him.

"I know you still have unfulfilled wishes, but you don't owe him anything, you really owe him, and I owe him. ”

Listening to the drunkard's endless words, Feng Mu guessed that there was a lingering and sympathetic relationship in it, but the drunkard didn't intend to say this.

There was no more wine in the wine jug beside him, he subconsciously reached out to take it, and retracted his hand again, and said in a deep voice: "We met at the cocktail party, but unfortunately I didn't dare to toast to you at that time, and now it's late, this late, it's a lifetime late." ”

After the drunkard finished speaking, he stood up, the dry grass was stained on his clothes, and he didn't bother to tidy it up, but still looked at the low grave calmly, and muttered: "He is also here, you reminisce about the old days, and I won't bother." ”

After saying this, the drunkard turned around and walked down the mountain, Xiao Chucai and Feng Mu heard him say this, carefully investigated the surrounding breath, and finally felt a strong true element, quickly approaching.

It was a white figure, and he didn't walk slowly up the mountainside like the three drunkards, but flew all the way, without touching the ground.

His light skills have been transcendental, and he has reached five or six zhang in one leap, and every time he is about to land, he just jumps up again with just a light touch on the tip of the grass.

This kind of body is like a roc spreading its wings, coming from the clouds, and driving away with a crane. There is no shortage of people in the world who are extremely skilled, and Ba Dongling in the Great Inner Forbidden Palace is the best among them, if compared with this person, I don't know how much worse.

The drunkard did not raise his head, but only cared about going down the mountain, perhaps because of the wine, his steps staggered, as if he would fall at any moment.

Feng Mu followed behind him, but he had to exert all his strength to barely keep up with him. The figure in the sky was getting closer and closer, and the drunkard tried his best to avoid it, and the route he chose was full of thorns.

Feng Mu and Xiao Chucai's clothes were torn to varying degrees, where would the drunkard take care of these, the figure in the sky was like a judge urging him to escape, and if he escaped late, he would be destroyed.

The figure suddenly stopped, and a pair of straw sandals stepped on a bush, and the birds could not stop shaking when such a small bush stopped, but it supported a large living person, but it did not move at all.

Feng Mu looked over and saw a monk wearing a moon-white monk's robe, holding a rosary in his left hand and making a Dharma seal in his right hand, his expression was calm and calm, not as flustered as a drunkard.

Such a character appeared out of thin air, anyone would look at it twice, Xiao Chucai looked carefully, thinking about the origin of this senior monk, he had never heard of it in the past.

Just when he wanted to give a salute and hug his fists and report himself to his home to show respect, he knew that the drunkard screamed strangely, and then he didn't look at the monk, and fled like a rabbit in the mouth of a tiger.

It was only after he escaped a few steps that the figure of the monk disappeared by itself, and when he reappeared, it had already blocked his way, and the drunkard did not dare to raise his head, and said in a deep voice: "Don't you want to learn from the Buddha and surpass me, the drunkard?"

"Good, good, poor monks don't have that way, you can't cross it, but you will suffer from demons, why bother?"

"Then why don't you get out of the way and stop me?"

The drunkard Hua Qingfeng was almost binge drinking, but his tone was not in one go, with obvious drunkenness, and he stammered.

"Why, old friends meet, you don't even want to look at me?"

"It's not that I don't want to, but I don't dare, if I didn't dodge before, but now it's different, I'm ashamed to see you, if I can die, it's okay, but I can't get rid of it, so I have to continue to breathe with this guilt. ”

"Amitabha, karma, has its own number of days. Without great kindness and great compassion, how can the bond between you and me be cut off if you want to?"

The drunkard Hua Qingfeng still lowered his head, and said in a sullen voice: "Doesn't the Buddhist family pay attention to the six pure roots, and the four are empty, you, a monk, are still obsessed with the matter of red dust, how can you achieve the Great Dao?"

"Amitabha, how do you know that I haven't let go?"

"If you really let go, you should stay in your monastery, instead of running to this barren mountain and blocking my way, you dare not kick you away?"

The monk folded his hands, recited the Buddha's name, and said: "Earth, fire, water, and wind, the four are empty, empty but not empty, not empty and empty." Ordinary people who have not broken their afflictions, have not eliminated greed and hatred, and have given birth to the prejudice of self-grasping and dharma-grasping, are filthy, cut off afflictions, have no separation from greed and hatred, can witness emptiness, and are called pure. The evil karma of ordinary people who are infected with leaks is called dirt, and the good karma of saints who smoke and cultivate without leakage is called purity. However, there is only its name, and in its ontology, it does not matter whether it is dirt or purity, and all that exists is emptiness. If you are not bound by the aggregates and are not affected by the hues of the Dharma, you will be at ease in the end of nirvana. ”

"Strong words. The drunkard who was poor in words was annoyed and ashamed, and he must have said that this monk who had studied hard for decades and became a monk was a thunderbolt with a wave of his palm.

The monk jumped two zhang high in the air, and Hua Qingfeng's palm wind was still there, intersecting with a large bluestone, and the hard stone was instantly shattered.

Feng Mu and Xiao Chucai on the side were all stunned, weren't these two masters old acquaintances, how could they start to act without warning?

The drunkard, who should have fled in the wilderness, fell into the air with one palm, and stepped on the earth, and the grass clippings flew on the hard ground covered with grass, and the soil was splashed everywhere, and he was trampled out of a big pit.

The drunkard's breath soared, Feng Mu almost suffocated, an unprecedented sense of oppression was like two mountains falling from the sky, he wanted to escape, but he was suppressed. This feeling is like Sun Dasheng who is making trouble in the Heavenly Palace, he can't exert his strength, and he is trapped in it, and he feels very uncomfortable.

"Don't be lucky. Xiao Chucai reminded beside Feng Mu.

Feng Mu, who originally wanted to use his strength to resist the overwhelming breath of the mountains and seas, had to give up, endured the pain like a blunt knife and deboned all over his body, and looked at the two people fighting in the sky.

"The internal cultivation of these two people has reached the peak, if you and I rashly resist it, if you are not careful, you will be affected by them, be affected by the breath, lead astray, at least the qi and blood flow backwards, the whole body will be paralyzed, and the meridians will be destroyed, and the body will explode and die. ”

Xiao Chucai was obviously not alarmist, Feng Mu had to endure himself, and only hoped that the two people flying in mid-air would finish the fight as soon as possible, and he would be able to get out of it.

The drunkard Hua Qingfeng poked out a finger, and the originally invisible qi sword actually pulled the surrounding air current, and quickly rotated, forming a strong whirlwind, with slaughter, wrapped in blades of grass, like an indestructible blade, stabbing towards the monk.

The monk clasped his hands together, whispered the Dharma in his mouth, and then stretched out his palms, centering on his body, forming a round bell jar, and faintly glowing with a pale yellow light.

"The golden bell jar can be condensed into a pale yellow entity, how many levels should this be to have such a realm?"

Feng Mu admired in his heart, and then ecstasy, because the monk he saw at the moment must be very different from that Han Tong, could it be that he was the second person after Patriarch Bodhidharma to practice the golden bell jar to the extreme?

Even if it's not, it's not much worse. Feng Mu thought like this, and felt more and more that the drunkard was deeply hidden.