i have a sword fairy

Chapter 303 Landscape Painting Dream
That night.

Dongli Xiaozhu, North House.

a candle.

Light up half the house.

In the middle of the house, there is a specially vacated space.

There is a Confucian scholar in green shirts who closes his eyes and walks around.

"Negative Shanzhi" five-style boxing post.

Throwing fists in the sleeves, flowing clouds and flowing water, combining rigidity and softness.

Zhao Rong, who closed his eyes, felt that his current state was very strange.

As if the consciousness had been separated, looking down at him walking on the ground in mid-air, it was like falling into a dream.

Moreover, Zhao Rong clearly felt it.

It's not that the fist moves with him, but that he moves with the fist.

It all fell into place.

After thousands of times of walking, it seems that Zhao Rong's instinct has become Zhao Rong's instinct.

In the words of his previous life, he is already proficient, and this set of boxing techniques is deeply rooted in his bones.

Just like his calligraphy, there is no need to deliberately put pen and paper on paper, and the strokes such as horizontal scales and vertical strokes, lifting and turning are natural and vivid on the paper.

And Zhao Rong remembered it even more deeply.

Half a year ago, on the way to the north, beside the fire under the green hills on a moonlit night, Liu Sanbian told him softly that this is called fisting the upper body.

This is the realm that countless warriors under the mountain dream of.

At that time, Liu Sanbian pulled out a sinister and gentle smile from the corner of his mouth.

If brother Zhao can walk through the stakes and get out of the boxing intention, then he has the talent of a high-level martial artist. At that time, I will give him another set of boxing techniques.

It's just that when he spoke later, his smile gradually stopped.

It should be, and I feel that [-]% of them will not be able to wait for this day.

At this moment, Zhao Rong, who was walking around with his eyes closed, pursed his lips, and his thoughts were about to change...

Just the next second.

He slammed the sword into the stove.

The room was suddenly dark, filled with the dead night, without light and light, only a pair of resolute eyes as bright as stars.

It turned out that it was Zhao Rong who just pointed in the air and extinguished the candle on the table in the distance.

The upper body of this fist moves naturally, which is actually half a beat faster than his thoughts.

Zhao Rong suddenly took a breath.

Except for Lengshen's miraculous fist that flows through his whole body, as well as the fact that he broke through the sixth "Chongmai" of the eight extraordinary meridians just now.

It was also because at this moment he was covered in sweat and his clothes were soaked.

It happened to be the short period of weakness of the fire dragon in the body after the successful pulse pulse, and the body was also very weak. In this late autumn night, the cool wind hit the body, this feeling...

However, the corners of Zhao Rong's mouth still couldn't help but raise.

Finally, another vein was broken, one step closer to Fuyao Realm.

He jumped up and down a couple of times on the spot, stretching his muscles and bones, and immediately re-lighted the lamp, then went to the tub to fetch hot water for a bath.

About half an hour later.

Zhao Rong, who had cleaned up, put on the autumn clothes that Qing Jun had washed for him, and walked towards the desk, ready to light up the lamp and read at night.

He raised his eyelids, breathed a sigh of relief, passed the bed in the house, and after walking a few steps, he paused slightly.

Zhao Rong stood still for a moment and thought about it.

In the next second, he hiccuped and walked towards the bed, giving up the idea of ​​continuing to read at night.

As Qingjun said, it's time to rest.

Zhao Rong faced down, and fell straight on the quilt that Zhao Lingfei personally dried and spread.

It seems to have the breath of her and sunshine.

Someone took a few deep sniffs.

"Qing Jun...Qing Jun...Xiao Xiao..."

Zhao Rong muttered, his eyelids gradually drooping.

night, quiet.

……

Zhao Rong had a dream.

Still a lucid dream.

He was conscious and remembered everything before the dream.

Zhao Rong looked around.

Surprised.

This dream is not colorful, but it can be said to be bizarre.

Because, everything around is only black and white.

in the field of vision.

Except for the black pen and ink lines that outline the scenery, objects and people, everything else is pure white, like a brand new white paper.

Zhao Rong's thoughts changed.

Isn't this a landscape painting?
Well, in other words, he is now in a small dream world like a landscape painting.

There are only two elements that are contrasting and extremely simple.

And this is black and white.

The thickness and lightness of ink.

The shallowness and depth of white space.

A deeper dimension is formed, such as perspective, such as size, such as... movement and stillness.

Zhao Rong laughed.

Interesting, it turned out to follow the brushwork composition of landscape ink painting, this dream is interesting.

At this moment, he looked down at his body.

Palms, arms, stomachs, legs, etc., are all made of ink.

Without exception, Zhao Rong at this time is also an element that constitutes this strange world of landscape painting.

Just like when he was in the painting class, the little man under the brush of the burly painting teacher.

Zhao Rong immediately wanted to find a mirror to see his current appearance.

However, he soon discovered that even the lake water was left blank in landscape paintings, so how could he be seen.

Zhao Rong was still a little curious. After coughing twice, he touched himself.

Fortunately, everything that should be there seems to be there, but it seems to be smaller.

Well, it's self-touching.

The nose, eyes, and mouth all got smaller.

Zhao Rong studied for a while, and suddenly found that he seems to have changed back to the child when he was eight or nine years old.

I said how to become smaller...

At the same time, because of the landscape ink painting.

The senses of touch, vision, taste, smell, etc. seem to be redefined, which is another experience and taste.

After Zhao Rong studied it for a while, he no longer cared about these miscellaneous things.

After finally having an interesting lucid dream, everything came, no matter what, the wave will be over.

He began to explore in this strange dream world in novelty.

Zhao Rong likes lucid dreams very much, because according to his past experience, he can really do whatever he wants in dreams.

At this moment, Zhao Rong looked around.

He was found by a stream.

There is no sun in the sky, and no one knows where the light comes from, which clearly illuminates the entire world of landscape painting.

The south-returning wild geese in the distant sky, like two strokes on paper, are waving their wings.

The current location should be in the suburbs.

Because Zhao Rong is surrounded by lush black forests, dancing naturally in the wind.

Occasionally, some small animals made of ink appeared bouncingly, and then disappeared.

A vibrant atmosphere, although only black and white.

Zhao Rong thought for a while, opened his right palm, and in the next second, a writing brush suddenly appeared out of thin air.

He smiled lightly, sure enough.

It's just that some rules have to be explored slowly.

Zhao Rong grabbed the brush and drew an orchid boat lightly, which landed straight on the stream, splashing a splash of ink.

He boarded the blue boat, propped up a long pole, and walked across the water.

Follow the water to explore this dreamland.

As far as Zhao Rong knows, dreams are a kind of satisfaction of objective desires, a response to subconscious content... well, in human terms, you can have whatever you want, especially the things and people that you have been thinking about on weekdays.

Of course, there are deeper mysteries as well.

Zhao Rong looked around.

So, let's talk about whether Qing Jun and Xiao Xiao are in the dream, thinking about them every day, they should be there... Ahem, the husband who can do whatever he wants is here.

He rode the blue boat for a while.

The surroundings are still like wilderness.

The grass and trees are colorful.

Just when Zhao Rong was thinking about whether to outline a flying sword and fly with the sword.

The stream came right up to the corner rapids.

Zhao Rong braced the pole, and Lan Zhou crossed the corner safely.

The field of vision suddenly opened up.

In front of Zhao Rong's eyes, the land was flat and wide, and the houses were arranged very neatly, including fields, ponds, and fruit trees.

The paths in the fields extend in all directions, and the villagers come and go in the fields, farming and working.

There are old people sitting and resting with their canes leaning on them, while there are children playing and running around.

This pair of willows and flowers bright scene.

It's like a peach blossom garden, a pleasant pastoral scenery.

Zhao Rong was slightly puzzled.

These are all scenes that he has never seen before, and he has never dreamed about, so why do they still appear in his dreams.

Zhao Rong blinked.

Could it be that in his subconscious he still has the noble sentiments of retiring to the countryside and being indifferent to fame and fortune?

How could he not know.

But even if you have thought about retiring, you should dream of going to the Zhongnan Kingdom, um, another eighteen-bedroom concubine...

But what the hell are these strange scenery in front of me.

When the boat reached the shore, Zhao Rong disembarked and stepped into this lively countryside.

Unsurprisingly, the villagers in these villages were all doing their own things and ignored him.

As if Zhao Rong didn't exist, there was no reaction at all.

He observed the villagers drawn in ink.

The specific appearance and expression cannot be seen very clearly, only the facial lines outlined by these inks can roughly see some appearance features and expressions.

Zhao Rong touched his face.

Presumably he should be the same.

Zhao Rong sighed lightly, his handsome face was hidden again.

He looked at this weird village for a while, with a radius of tens of miles, it seemed that this was the only place where people lived.

This dream is a bit strange.

At this moment.

Zhao Rong's eyes that swept around suddenly paused, and stopped on a certain building in the middle of the village.

It was a building completely different from the modest houses in the village.

He thinks that it should appear in the Confucian Academy, the Imperial College at the foot of the mountain, or the private school of the scholarly family and wealthy family.

Because this is a well-organized, boxy school.

Rigorous and solemn, elegant and generous.

It doesn't match the idyllic style of the surrounding peach blossoms.

But it just happened.

Zhao Rong was very interested and raised his foot to observe.

On the way, sometimes some villagers he accidentally ran into would leave numbly as if nothing had happened to Zhao Rong.

Soon.

Zhao Rong walked around this strange school.

He couldn't help but smile.

This school looks tall, solid and rigorous, but there is no door for entering and exiting.
Just on the west side, a small casement was opened.

A school without doors?
Zhao Rong went to the west window and looked in.

The classroom is bright and bright, and there is an old master teaching a group of young children.

The old master couldn't see the specific face clearly, but he was tall and thin, with his hands behind his back, his head held high, and a ruler in his hand, patrolling the school, looking serious.

This posture and movement made Zhao Rong a little familiar, but he couldn't figure out where he had seen it.

But he definitely didn't know this old master.

As for these children, they are all about eight or nine years old, and there are about 20 of them.

The school seems to be in class.

The tall and thin old master was writing on the podium.

The children below seemed to be listening intently.

Like the villagers in the village outside, they were all doing their own work, and turned a deaf ear to a certain head popping out of the window.

Zhao Rong observed for a while, except that the school didn't match the style of the village, and the buildings had no doors, there seemed to be nothing strange about it.

No one paid him any attention as he dangled in front of the window.

Zhao Rong looked left and right, he had nothing to do, and carefully observed the children in the school who were about his age at this time.

But after looking around, I was a little disappointed.

Because there is no Qing Jun and Xiao Xiaoying.

He remembers Qing Jun's appearance when he was a child. As for Xiao Xiao... Well, it should be a little fluffy Firefox, jumping around on Qiantang Mountain.

So, what kind of weird dream is this?

Say good to do whatever you want.

Zhao Rong pursed his lips and glanced at the school again.

These 21 young children are wearing uniform school uniforms.

In fact, twenty of them are little boys, and there is only one little girl, who combs her horns, but looks very rigid.

Let Zhao Rong look at it a few more times, but still don't recognize it.

The little girl in Zongjiao seems to be a senior in the school who is similar to the monitor, and she also has a small ruler in her hand.

She seems to be obeying the old master's orders at this moment, leaving her seat to collect homework from her classmates.

The little girl in Zongjiao is strict in doing things and behaves rigidly.

The rather vague expression seems to be the same.

The little girl in Zongjiao held her homework and presented it to the podium, and saluted the tall and thin old master seriously. Her attitude was respectful and respectful, even in Zhao Rong's view, she was a little too respectful.

At this moment, the tall and thin old master seemed to be ordering something.

The little girl in Zongjiao put her hands behind her back, her waist was straight, and she listened carefully to the admonition...

Zhao Rong observed outside for a while, feeling a little bored.

Then he glanced at the little girl in the school with some familiar behavior patterns.

In other words, this young master didn't dream of Qing Jun and Xiao Xiao, but instead dreamed of Yu Huaijin, right?

Is it Yu Huaijin?It looks a bit like it.

Dreaming about her?
Was it like this when Yu Huaijin was a child?
Well, it seems that since childhood, he has been so boring and old-fashioned.

Zhao Rong shook his head.

Anyway, with nothing to do, he jumped up without thinking much, and turned into the hall through the west window.

At this time, in the school, the old master seemed to have ordered something.

The young children saluted one after another, and then bent over their desks, concentrating on their studies.

They didn't pay any attention or reaction to Zhao Rong's uninvited guest.

Just like those villagers, like a machine in a dream, running numbly.

Zhao Rong is used to it.

He walked around the school a few times.

During the period, he took a closer look at the tall and thin old master, but he had never seen him before.

Zhao Rong looked at the decoration of the school and the clothes of the people, and found that it was not the custom of Wangquezhou that he had seen.

It's kind of weird.

However, his lucid dream was a bit boring.

Zhao Rong copied his sleeves and walked around the school at will, like a transparent person.

At a certain moment, when he passed the little girl in the corner, he paused a little.

Zhao Rong raised his brows and eyelids slightly, thinking of something.

He came to the little girl in Zongjiao who was bowing her head and doing her homework seriously, smiled happily, stretched out his hand, and rubbed her little head combing Zongjiao.

The old-fashioned little girl in Zongjiao was lowering her head, carefully turning the pages of the book.

Zhao Rong was not satisfied, he bent down, stretched out two fingers, and squeezed her round face.

Is it Yu Huaijin from childhood?Well, never mind, my dream is what I say.

Yu Huaijin Senior Yu, I didn't just bully you casually in my dream.

Zhao Rong hooked the corner of his mouth, then squeezed it again, it was a little soft...

The little girl in the corner suddenly raised her head and stared at him with no expression on her face.

"???"

Zhao Rong opened his eyes slightly and leaned back, no, you, are you alive?And react!can stare at him...

The little girl in Zongjiao had a straight face, and with her left hand, she grabbed the thief's hand that was pinching her face and doing whatever she wanted, and it was too late to retract at this moment, and opened his palm, and raised the ruler with her right hand.

Snapped----!
Zhao Rong: "..."

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(End of this chapter)