Master Xuanjing knew he was coming, and without leaving his eyes on the lake, he simply said yes, leaving Xuanqing unable to figure out his thoughts.

When it comes to the Guanlan Sect's disciple recruitment ceremony, there are seven levels of monks who are here for Master Xuanjing, but Master Xuanjing doesn't like any of them. Since more than ten years ago, he only came back to ask him if he had something to do. He refused to say where he went, but he took away some martial arts books from the sect one after another.

Although these things are precious, Master Xuanjing has no use at all.

"Uncle Master is interested in this person. Do you want your nephew to call him?" Xuan Qing asked tentatively.

In fact, deep down in his heart, he hopes that Master Xuanjing will accept his disciples. After all, if there is one, there will be a second one. The name of the first person in the Tribulation is so dazzling that even he has his grandchildren worship Master Xuanjing as their disciple. The idea, but unfortunately Master Xuanjing rejected it by not accepting disciples.

"No, no need." Master Xuanjing wanted to say yes, but he thought of something else and refused. He looked at Qin Moyu's careless look in the illusion, and sighed helplessly, "I'd better go find him. Bar."

Xuan Qing's eyes twitched. This was the first time he saw Xuan Jing take the initiative to find someone. It was really strange.

"By the way, what do you want from me?" Master Xuanjing asked.

When Xuan Qing said this, he remembered the purpose of his coming here, and quickly cut out the picture of Qin Moyu, turning it into a place surrounded by black mist, which made Xuan Jing, who wanted to scold him, frown.

"What's going on?" Master Xuanjing activated his spiritual energy. The black fog in the picture dissipated a little, and he could vaguely see a figure inside.

The figure looked up as if feeling something, and looked directly at Xuanjing Zhenren through the heavy fog.

"It's not clear yet. Everyone else's illusions are normal. Only this person's illusion is strange. I asked Xuan Li and I don't know why, but I am sure there is nothing wrong with the formation." Xuan Qing said honestly.

Xuan Li is the elder who is most proficient in formations in Guanlan Sect. Even he said that there is no problem with the formation, so it must be no problem.

"What's this man's name?"

"Let me take a look - it seems to be called Shen Yebai."

Shen Yebai.

This name caused Xuan Jing to pause. He raised his eyebrows and leaned back lazily: "It's him, then it's okay."

"Huh?" Xuan Qing didn't know why.

"It's nothing. It's just that this guy's illusion is normal. You just don't have to worry about it." Master Xuanjing snorted. The more he looked at Shen Yebai, who was standing straight in the picture, the more unhappy he became. He drew something in the air with his index finger. After a few clicks, a stream of light flew into Chen Yebai's fantasy world.

The low roar of wild beasts came from the originally quiet illusion. Shen Yebai held the long sword and cut off a beast that was charging at him with his backhand. The chopped beast turned into smoke and disappeared without a trace in an instant.

Shen Yebai frowned, held his sword in front of him, and became alert.

A beast is nothing, but what is terrifying is the countless beast eyes glowing with cold light in the black mist.

"Since you're so bored, I'll let you do some exercise." Master Xuanjing opened the wine bottle and took a vicious sip.

Xuan Qing didn't know where Master Xuan Jing's sullenness came from, but he didn't choose to ask and left silently.

One is Master Xuanjing, who is far more powerful than him, and the other is a monk who makes Master Xuanjing itchy but doesn't kill him. Since the illusion is fine, he doesn't need to worry about it.

Master Xuanjing avenged his personal revenge, but he didn't want to see Shen Yebai's face, so he waved his hand and turned the lake back to Qin Moyu's side.

Qin Moyu was lying on the bed. Wooden slips are the most commonly used record-keeping tools in the world of cultivation. It only takes a little bit of spiritual energy to make the words and ink appear on the wood slips, and the pages can be turned like a book. It is much more convenient than simply writing with ink.

Qin Moyu reviewed the content of the previous article, but when he scrolled down, he found that there was a blank space at the back.

He didn't pay attention, just put the wooden slips back and started tinkering with things in the room.

The small wooden sword made by his master when he was six years old, the kite he made with his master when he was seven years old, the wooden cart that his master brought back for him when he was eight years old... Things of all sizes were filled Qin Moyu's room. Qin Moyu dug it out and found that every Everything is full of memories.

Qin Moyu picked up the small wooden sword, with three characters crookedly engraved on it: Qin Moyu. He remembered the way his master frowned and his face turned deep red when he was carving words that day, concentrating on the carving for fear of making the wrong word, and he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Why, you're smiling so happily?" The old Taoist priest stood at Qin Moyu's door at some point. He saw Qin Moyu sitting on the ground with a bunch of messy things in front of him, and walked up to take a look.

"I'm looking at old things from the past, and you see my name is still on it." Qin Moyu said with a smile, pulling the old Taoist priest down and sitting on the ground together. At this moment, they are not monks who can call the wind and rain, but more like the grandchildren of ordinary people. The two of them chatted side by side.

"What's so good about old things?" The old Taoist priest looked disgusted when he saw the name on the wooden sword, but he sat down honestly.

"Old objects are the only ones that are interesting. How can I say that, just like old wine, it gets better and better as it is stored."

"Humph, the oldest object is right in front of you, and you don't even look at it twice."

There was something in these words. Qin Moyu leaned over and said, "Master, do you think I've been gone for too long?"

There was a sense of pride that could not be concealed between his brows.

——It was the old Taoist priest who took the initiative to drive Qin Moyu out of the sect for training.

The old Taoist priest glanced at him and said nothing, but picked up the kite: "Speaking of this kite, I remember it very clearly. That day you cried and asked me to make a kite for you, and it was made for you. You don’t want to fly a kite because it’s too tiring, and you want me to use my spiritual energy to help you get up. I really don’t know what your little head is thinking about all day long, and you’re just tormenting me.”

"And this, this, I will go down the mountain to get a drink. You still want gifts. You are not satisfied with the wooden cart you brought, and you want a pair of floats. However, the float disappeared the next day. You spent a whole day working on your wooden cart. The groom becomes a widower."

"and this……"

There are as many dark histories of Qin Moyu as there are old objects present, and the old Taoist priest can't even repeat the same thing when he talks about it in one breath.

Qin Moyu was dumbfounded by what he said. He had no memory of doing these things when he was a child. The more he listened, the more annoyed he became. He quickly begged for mercy: "Master, stop talking. Stop talking. I'm already so old. Please save some face for me. "

After hearing this, the old Taoist priest looked up like a victorious rooster, proudly raised his head, patted his butt and got up from the ground. His eyes seemed to despise Qin Moyu for being Sun Wukong, and he couldn't even think of jumping out of his Tathagata palm.

It's strange to say that the old Taoist priest is lean and lean, and his yellow robe has many stitching marks. He looks like he cherishes it, but he has never worn it properly. It is always draped loosely on his body. His facial features are obviously soft. He has the image of a kind and kind person, but has an extremely hot temper. He is a sharp-tongued man who is quick to humiliate others. He is a completely arrogant old man.

"Eat!" The old Taoist priest waved his hand, and Qin Moyu followed obediently.

There were ordinary home-cooked dishes on the table. Qin Moyu brought the bowls and chopsticks, boiled them with hot water and handed them to the old Taoist priest. Instead of using them to put rice, the old Taoist priest took a wine flask and poured wine into them.

The porcelain white bowl contained dark yellow wine, and there was a scent of rice.

"The wine hasn't been finished yet." Qin Moyu packed up the food and sat down, chatting with the old Taoist priest while eating, "You should drink less. You see, I've been gone for so long, and Master, you still have so little cultivation."

The old Taoist priest drank most of the wine in one gulp, narrowed his eyes comfortably, and said disdainfully: "What's wrong with such a small level of cultivation? If you don't use the red lotus karma fire, I can still hold you down and beat you."

"That's why I respect the elderly."

"cut."

One of them ate, the other drank, and more than ten years passed unknowingly. From Qin Moyu's toddler to going out for training, all the memories were in this small yard.