Legend of the Great Saint

Li Qingshan wanted to say, "Hey, it looks like you're all right in here!” From beginning to end, he didn't use the little novelist Farman.

But in any case, the battle stirred up a long-standing novelist, at least no one dared to laugh at Li Qingshan as the novelist's chief disciple.

After Liu Chuanfeng was happy, the old thing was mentioned again: “Qingshan, thanks to the help of your brother, now you said that the cloud fiction society has basically been established, the process of collecting trust has certainly been much faster. In this way, I have a great chance of building a foundation. This was all your idea. Hurry up and condense the great divine charm! ”

Li Qingshan hesitated for a moment, touching his chin and sighing.

“Yeah, Aoyama, it's just you!” Outside the door, a voice sounded loud, Sun Fu Bai mastered the white crane and circled down from the sky, landing in the yard.

Li Qingshan glanced at him and almost didn't recognize him. He only saw Sun Fu Bai or the Sun Fu Bai. However, there was a lot less gray hair on his head, and he was full of red light. He walked with wind. There was a kind of joy when people were happy with the spirit of happiness. The original sense of leisure belonging to the elderly faded, adding a sense of progress for the elderly.

“Brother, your fix!” Liu Chuanfeng spoke out.

The original Sun Fu Bai, because of his gift, is the eighth floor of gas refining, by this age has basically cut off the possibility of further, but it hasn't been seen for most half a year, Sun Fu Bai Herr is already the ninth floor of gas refining.

Fixed into one, the true Qi increased greatly, all eight pulses of the Qi Dynasty were smooth, people seemed to be naturally young. The most fundamental, however, is the influence of mentality, which is undoubtedly more evocative than waiting in the bookstore for fate to come, to establish the roots of the novelist, to recreate the brilliance of the novelist.

Sun Fubai laughed: “I didn't have time for this, so I just wrote something. ”

Liu Dayunfeng, it's impossible to live with Liu Chuanfeng alone. Sun Fubai, as the owner of the cloud fiction club, naturally cannot not take advantage of the "medium” that he has established. These days, whenever things are explained and everything is fine, he writes in writing.

His whole life, he read ten thousand volumes, went through the world, the content of which is not Liu Chuanfeng can compare. Following the path indicated by Li Qingshan, he slightly changed the way he wrote, and wrote something that the ordinary people are happy to see. The effect is really excellent. Now the popularity of "Old Man Cangbai" is more on Liu Chuanfeng, the "Feng Moon Master”.

Gathered together a great deal of faith, he had been stuck on the eighth floor of refining gas for many years, with the help of this force, hard to cross the threshold and let it be repaired further.

Li Qingshan said: "Uncle Fu, why are you back? ”

Sun Fubai said: "If you want to fight, come back and see. Looks like you won. ”

Today, the only three remaining novelists, once again gathered together, were delighted with the happiness.

"'I've got something for you too,' said Sun Fu Bai. ”

“Oh, what is this?” Liu Chuanfeng took a common white cloth bag from Sun Fu Bai, nothing special except red silk mouth, no spiritual appearance.

Li Qingshan was also curious. For practitioners, basically nothing without spirituality is good. Sun Fubai is a gift, but it is a bit odd.

Liu Chuanfeng opened it and it was filled with paper letters.

Sun Fubai, in order to get the feedback below in time, so that Liu Chuanfeng can change the number of roads, let the members of Yunfeng Society talk about book performances in various places, ask the opinions of the following people, later evolved into many listeners, to “Fengyue master” message, although not literate, there are also special pen records, all collected and transferred to Liu Chuanfeng.

Liu Chuanfeng hastily opened and read, among which naturally there are many praises, but also many suggestions and expectations. He sat there and smiled silly. He was the least dignified, often derided homeowner of the Hundred Sutras. He found respect for a long time and truly experienced the beauty of writing a novel.

This gift is indeed much more precious than any Lindane.

Sun Fubai said to Li Qingshan: “Qingshan, you like to drink wine. I brought you good wine from all over the place. Although it is no better than spiritual wine, it can help the practice, but it also has its own flavour. ”

On the territory of the 3,000 Liqing River Prefecture, there are dozens of famous wines, the ingredients chosen and the manufacturing process varied, from which Sun Fubai chose the aged finishes to bring back Li Qingshan.

Otherwise, that's enough to impress people. Sitting at home is a great way to taste wine from all over the place, and it's a pleasure to do so.

Li Qingshan accepted dozens of fine drinks and made a gift: “Uncle Fu, have a heart. ”

Sun Fubai smiled: “This is nothing compared to your idea. Now with your idea, the old man has planted the tree. If you refuse to ride the cold below, you will fail me. ”

Speaking of this, who can refuse, Li Qingshan said: “I want to learn to condense the Great Dementor, please tell me. ”

The power of faith, illusion is infinite. Although in Liu Chuanfeng's hands, the effect is very ordinary, but he didn't know how to fight, such as summoning the iron cord by emptiness, even if he can't trap the enemy. As long as the mind of the enemy is disturbed at a critical time, it has the effect of reversing victory and defeat, and it is easier to clean up that piece of fool.

If we go one step further, the strength of the faith that has been mustered is strong enough to bind the enemy even for a second, enough that he will not know how many times.

Sun Fu Bo smiled and the novelist was inherited.

Liu Chuanfeng didn't listen to all of this. He just smiled at the letterhead. He looked down, lay down and squatted.

Sun Fubai and Li Qingshan smiled at each other.

……

A sea of blue waves, infinite waves, countless rivers, remitted into it, the sea water vaporized, turned into clouds, and filled the rivers.

At this point, suddenly there is a mysterious power, soothing all the ripples of the sea, a super blue ancient awkward symbol, rising from this still sea, countless dragons rise, converging on it, the more clear and powerful the ancient awkward symbol becomes, emitting a converging light, and finally hanging at sea.

The ocean water restored the waves, and in between, it seemed like a tortoise, swimming by the tail.

Li Qingshan opened his eyes, his eyes were deep, and it seemed that a magic charm appeared. The process of condensing the Great Derivative was much simpler than he had initially anticipated, presumably because of his purity, and it took less than three days to complete.

It's just the way of the divine charm. It's nothing like practicing. Condensing the divine charm is just an introduction.

Sun Fubai has returned to the capital to deal with the affairs of Yunfeng Society. Li Qingshan gave him a few more suggestions. He hurried to go back and make Yunfeng Society even stronger.

After reading the letterhead, Liu Chuanfeng left hundreds of scriptures to follow the ancient novelists.

So on the vast island of Yunfeng, there was only Li Qingshan, the chief disciple, but before he left, he left Li Qingshan with something - a fine desk.

The ink pen is ready.

Clean white paper stretched out, under the light of snow outside the window, the white appeared, and the pencil holder had a row of wolves of different sizes. Even though a coarse man like Li Qingshan had no choice but to create a thought of writing something.

A few days later, Liu Chuan Fengfeng came back and said it was Fengfeng. In fact, he went to the branches run by Yunfeng Agency in various places. He heard that the bookwriter had written his novel, stealing pleasure in the dark, riding the white crane, and had been to many places for seven or eight days.

I don't know what happened to Li Qingshan. Humph, writing a novel is not that simple. I must have written some garbage novels. Let me teach him a lesson and rebuild the majesty of my family owner.

Liu Chuanfeng came to Zhuxuan. Only Li Qingshan was actually sitting at the table with a pen in his hand. Xiao An lay on the floor, reading an annotation of the Buddha's Book, saw Liu Chuanfeng, glanced at him and did not speak.

Li Qingshan didn't even turn his head, Liu Chuanfeng said: quite serious. Walk over and see a blank piece of blank paper with only one black ink dot dripping down the nose.

“Written?” Liu Chuanfeng asked.

Li Qingshan turned his head slowly: “What's written? ”

“Novel!” Liu Chuanfeng naturally said, but saw the blood in his eyes, his hair was also a little messy. Li Qingshan, who was always angry, actually showed a bit of flatulence.

“Hee-hee!” Xiao An laughed and was immediately glanced at by Li Qingshan. He threw up his tongue and made a ghost face.

Li Qingshan finally understood what it meant to hold out six words in three days.

He started thinking about writing himself, but the idea was quickly dispelled, and the memories of the previous life, though forgotten, at least remembered some classic stories.

But when he tried to translate those memories into words, he immediately felt like he wasn't doing it.

He wrote a few things, and the words were so bad that he couldn't read them, and suddenly found the classic stories he remembered so boring.

He tried to drink tea quietly, tried drinking booze, but it didn't work at all and couldn't be written at all. Even began to admire Liu Chuanfeng. Forget about it, at least he could come up with a book.

Liu Chuanfeng tried to suppress the smile, but the smile still spilled out of every smile line, all saying: “Ha, your boy also has today. ”

"It's not that simple, it's hard to start," he said. “Let the famous novelist Fengyue teach you how to write. ”

Pfft, Li Qingshan threw his pen away and got up suddenly: “No more writing. What's so funny about writing a novel? Waste of time. I'm going to do something about it.” Take Xiao An and walk out the door, tending to the clouds and driving the fog, disappearing into the darkness before dawn, remotely sending his reprimand: “Don't laugh! ”

Liu Chuanfeng was mute and shook his head with a sigh. The novelist wanted to carry on. It didn't seem easy!

In the evening, Liu Chuanfeng was writing in an ambush, Li Qingshan pushed the door in, with blue and purple scars on his face, but with a confident smile: “I want to write a novel! ”

PS: A lot of the data in these two days have reached the highest level in history, the numbers are false, the support is true, I'm about to smile like Liu Chuanfeng, thank you. Many of the later plots, also rationalized a lot. When I was in a good mood, I had to say that I was going to explode. Although I had a slow hand, I had plenty of free time. I had neither a boyfriend nor a girlfriend. This may be unfortunate for a mortal. For a novelist, I was very lucky. Today is probably hopeless. Let me prepare for it. It's probably just these two days! Keep asking for guaranteed monthly tickets and subscription support. I'm writing a novel too. Wow! (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote on recommendations, monthly tickets (qidian.com), and your support is my biggest motivation.)