Even the red walls and purple halls are hard to match. Over the years, small temples in the mountains have gradually been forgotten.

The temple walls are shattered and the clay sculptures are exposed. Under the wind, they become blurred in facial features and cannot see clearly.

Occasionally, tourists come here, or sigh that only the holy path has a long life, and many wild sacrifices are hidden in the wind and sand.

Li Buzhuo was living in the clay sculpture and couldn't help but think about the past. At that time, he used a little incense to help Jumang preserve the true spirit. Now it is still in this small hill, and things change, so who will help him?

As the heavy rain fell, the clay sculpture was washed away by the water flow, and this last place of residence was hard to last forever.

Li Buzhuo knew that this heavy rain was his final chapter. At this time, he was not sad, but a little bit of gratitude. Anyone who was lonely in the clay sculpture for decades would expect a moment of freedom, even if he died. He should have been wandering in the back of the ruins, able to return home, and seeing old friends, it was a great blessing.

The heavy rain was drastically and it didn't stop for a moment.

A snow-white hand held a vermilion oil paper umbrella on the top of the clay sculpture's head.

Li Buzhuo opened her eyes and saw Yan Chixue standing in the rain. She hadn't seen her for many years. She still had the same appearance, but she lost her youthful vitality. Her eyebrows and eye makeup could not hide her fatigue. There were fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She took out a fire stick and lit three fragrances for Li Buzhuo under the umbrella.

Before Yan Chixue left, Li Buzhuo knew why she left.

Yan Beiliang, the old leader of Taowu Fort, was a disciple of Xuanweizi, a saint of the Zongheng family. He pretended to be a disciple of Qin Jing, a dragon and the fire-holding Qin Jing, who was finally assassinated several years ago. Now Yan Beiliang has passed away and Yan Chixue's father has died. She has held the power of the dragon and the dragon and the old subordinates scattered around the world, but she cannot reveal the truth that her grandfather is a disciple of the saint.

She had been intriguing for a long time, and no one around her could trust her. Only today, she let Yu wash her makeup and reveal her feelings to the mud statues in the mountains.

After the rain stopped, she took a tired nap in front of the mud statue for a moment, leaving the oil-paper umbrella and left.

In front of the mud statue, the remaining fragrance has not yet ended, and the blue smoke condenses into a human form and dissipates in the wind.

Li Buzhuo didn't know whether he was life or death. When he let go of all his heartbreak, he was still in the mud statue, but suddenly he could see the mud statue itself, and every corner inside and outside the mud statue, just like in the White Dragon Temple that night, he had a chance to escape into the heaven of neither thinking nor not thinking, and overlooking the world.

The plants and trees in the forest withered and lush again. Suddenly there was a wildfire. The trees several feet tall were burned to a pile of ashes. Li Buzhuo went to see them at this time, but not only saw the ashes, but in his eyes, everything was formed by the virtual and real, the trees turned into ashes, and the ashes and smoke were real. The heat dissipated in the fire was empty. The ashes fell into the soil, and the ashes were empty, and the sun and moon light were empty, blended into the tree species, and then became towering trees.

He suddenly realized that the root of the transformation of all kinds of magical powers and the transformation of virtual and real is "Tao".

In his life, those scattered beads, withering and reversing with prosperity and reversal, the spring and autumn in his dreams are not easy to sword, the magical art of the East Lord, the mysterious silkworm swallowing the sky, and all kinds of the past are strung in front of him by an invisible thread.

That night, the clouds and mists gathered and dispersed on Jumang Mountain.

When the moon sets and the sun rises, a ray of purple air shines, and the surface of the clay sculpture cracks, and a crack is cracked.

A clear and snow-like light came out from the crack, and the crackling sounds continued, and the clay sculpture was like being pierced by thousands of sword energy.

The mud shell fell off, and among the decaying temple walls, a young man, dressed in black and black, picked up the vermilion oil paper umbrella on the ground.

...

Under the Buddhist altar, the monks recite scriptures in the morning class and sing the Sanskrit series.

In front of the altar, Mi Lianhua laughed and said, "Someone can really attain Nirvana!"

...

Li Buzhuo walked out of the small temple and came to Jiuweng Village.

The winery was abandoned at some point, and the former manager Yao Kan disappeared. The yard was included in the Jiang family of Xinfeng Mansion. Li Buzhuo's acquaintances lived in the yard.

Jiang Dongjun's parents are still here and are already old. After dinner, the two always mention the girl who became extraordinary after birth, but they are no longer reluctant to leave her expression, but instead add fuel to the fire, rendering a legend of the Nine Heavens Xuanniao descending to the earth.

Li Buzhuo couldn't help feeling a little sad. What made him melancholy was not that he heard about the past again, but that when he heard these past events, his heart was gone.

He thought he still had concerns, but he didn't know when he had already let it go.

Standing on Jumang Mountain, he looked into the distance.

In his eyes, the world has become a piece of paper.

In the eyes of mortals, this piece of paper is laid flat on the table. Ordinary people are like ants, crawling on the paper, but they don’t know that in addition to all directions, there are also ups and downs. Even if the mechanism that can fly and escape from the sky and the earth has to travel thousands of miles, they can only do it step by step.

But in Li Buzhuo's opinion, this piece of paper is wrinkled and twisted. The two ends of the paper are folded in half at a strange angle at a strange angle. If you still walk along the paper, you still have to cross tens of millions of miles. If you jump out of the paper, you need to jump gently...

Li Buzhuo took a step forward.

He was originally on the top of Jumang Mountain where the cold wind whistled, but he was already in the downtown area.

The crowds were filled with people, vendors and pedestrians froze, all kinds of people. When they walked past him, they seemed to have not seen the man in black suddenly appear.

Li Buzhuo walked along the street and stopped in front of a courtyard after a moment.

In the yard, a young man about ten years old was practicing swordsman facing the wooden man.

"The white deer looks back at the ape and stretches out her arms, and the crane under the celestial throne nods!"

He recited the sword technique with a stern look and was sweating profusely.

Li Buzhuo stood outside the door for a long time.

His eyes penetrated the heavy door and saw a pregnant middle-aged woman. Her husband was listening to her stomach, and the two looked at each other and smiled.

As time goes by, Li Buzhuo is still the same as he was back then. He came back to life, but in the hearts of others, he was just a concern.

Li Buzhuo turned around and was about to leave, but he paused, but he still walked into the yard.

"Little baby, what's your name?" Li Buzhuo came to the young boy and said with a smile.

"Danggui, my name is Angelica, but it is not the black angelica in the medicine shop! It is Wu Danggui!" When he saw Li Buzhuo, he felt that his smile was inexplicably friendly, so he replied without any warning, "But my mother always likes to call me Xiao Shitou!"

"Uncle, where are you?" he asked with his eyes blinking.

"Me?" Li Buzhuo smiled, "A coincidence, my mother also called me Shi Tou. We are two stones of different sizes."

Angelica looked at Li Buzhuo and said, "You are also called Shitou? My mother told me that there is a man named Li Shitou, the best in the world in swordsmanship, but I don't agree. I will definitely be better than him in the future. Uncle Shitou, can you use a sword?"

"You know a little bit, you're not as good as Li Shitou." Li Buzhuo said, "Danggui, give me the sword."

...

Sanjin came to the courtyard with his belly straightened and saw Angelica sleeping soundly leaning against the wooden man.

"Wu Danggui! You asked you to practice swords, but you slept! You didn't learn your uncle's swordsmanship, but you learned all this bad habit!"

Angelica suddenly woke up and said excitedly: "Mom, you misunderstood me. I saw Uncle Shitou just now, and he taught me a few tricks."

"Nonsense! Lao Zhang didn't even inform him, how could someone come in? OK, you're daydreaming again!"

"Is it true!" Angelica said poutingly and pointed out outside the door, "He has just left, look!"
Chapter completed!