Food Fairy Lord

Chapter 532 Crane Meets Phoenix

This was a scene that made everyone silent, as if the eyes of heaven were fixed upon this.

Some people already knew who was behind the Buddha's face, and some people also got some astonishing speculations from these sixteen words... In any case, just this miracle of asking for God's will, there are only a handful of people in the world who can bear it.

The man asked about his life and death, and the Heaven conveyed the will, and the prince expressed his opinion, which amounted to four sentences and sixteen words.

The weight of these words is breathtaking.

The old man was indeed very old, maybe seventy, maybe eighty, he stood in the main seat holding a wine bottle, his wide sleeves slipped down, revealing his forearms with nothing but a string of exquisite Buddhist beads, spots and wrinkles, but still revealing the delicateness and whiteness of a pampered life.

Under the candlelight, the old man raised the wine in the jug to the sky, tilted his head back and drank it. Then, without saying a word, he gently let go of the empty cup and let it fall to the ground with the sound of shattering glass.

The old man sat back at his desk, not hiding his lazy joy from anyone.

Among the billions of living beings in the world, who can know their own fate in the future?

If God grants our blessing, then what worries us in life?
The interweaving of cold and warm light wandered on the delicate and compassionate Buddha's face. The bright moon no longer dimmed, shining on the will of heaven and the master of the Fantasy Tower, as if the passage to heaven was still not closed.

The wise men in ancient times were all playing games. This moment is the real great miracle of Huanlou today. The philosopher from the Confucian Academy obviously came here just to witness this scene. He just put up his sleeves and looked at these sixteen words in silence. Some perceptive people have already thought of the following discussion of heaven's principles.

The North Sea Patriarch who was carrying a sword also quietly fixed his gaze on the prince in plain clothes. It was obvious that he came here to confirm something.

After the shock, whispers gradually began to spread in the banquet hall. Even here, more than 90% of the people saw the prince communicate with Haotian about the legendary matter for the first time. The pure and holy Zen sound once again surrounded them, and the sacred and quiet atmosphere slowly permeated the red building... until the clear voice of a young girl rang out in the venue.

"Excuse me... Now that my Qi has been restored, can we continue playing swordplay?"

There was a slight silence in the scene - it was a clear and upright figure, with a light-colored sword on his back, a simple mask covering his face, and two small jade pendants dangling slightly on the sides.

She stood in the center of the banquet hall, seven steps away from He Ju, and seemed to have been preparing for a while.

The leader of the Beihai Clan turned his head, cast his eyes towards her, raised his eyebrows with a hint of interest, and said in a calm voice: "Of course... Whose disciple are you?"

When this great man spoke, the guests turned their attention. The miracle had been completed, and it would be interesting to see who else could stand out in the poetry and sword competition - especially since this girl, who was a little too young, was indeed a breath of fresh air.

"Hello, Senior Gu. I am Jiang Yin'er, a disciple of the Taoist sect. My master is Shen Xiao Ying Su Yu." Jiang Yin'er raised her hand to take off her mask and looked at the host seriously. "I heard that those who win over He Ju can get a promise. May I ask if I can ask this host?"

The whole place suddenly fell silent, Xuan Huzhi was slightly stunned, and next to him, the old man who was discussing Buddhist principles with the monk paused, then slowly turned his head to look at her.

The eyes beneath the Buddha's face are clear and calm.

He must have no cultivation, but at this moment everyone in the banquet hall felt an inexplicable suffocation.

Jiang Yin'er pursed her lips and looked at him seriously: "If I am lucky enough to defeat Senior He, can you please take off your Buddha mask?"

There was complete silence.

At this moment, everyone was looking at the figure standing in the hall. The figure's fluttering clothes made him look neither humble nor arrogant, which made people feel a little unreal.

This is certainly offensive...even when expressed politely.

How long has Huanlou been standing in Shenjing? How many banquets with lights as bright as day have been held there? And no matter how distinguished the guests are, that old figure always sits safely in that position, almost like an unchanging symbol.

It is because of this mysterious figure that this paradise will always stand firm. In fact, people never think that he needs to hide his identity. Maybe it is just a preference or habit of his.

In other words - it was his will.

Therefore, people would never touch upon that identity, and even private speculation was restrained... I never thought that one day, someone would say this to my face.

For a moment, many people's hearts were tense and their fingers clenched the wine bottles - that was the subconscious fear of the anger of the high-ranking people.

Even the hands of the monk next to him who was twisting his Buddhist beads paused for a moment. In the silence, the old man in plain clothes and barefoot finally retracted his eyes, as if he was too lazy to look at her again, and said indifferently: "You... win first, then we'll talk."

Below the banquet hall, the little sword fairy flipped over from the clouds and landed on the ground, leisurely making two sword flowers.

Jiang Yin'er pursed her lips and gently grasped the hilt of the sword.

In fact, this trip to the Fantasy Tower was completely different from what the girl had imagined. She came down the mountain to this divine capital on earth. She didn't know what the "Fantasy Tower" was, nor had she heard of Haotian's message. Just as she stood alone in the atmosphere where everything was inviolable at this moment, she didn't actually think too much about it.

She planned to go to a lively banquet - prepared to feel a little uncomfortable - to greet the unknown "brother" and then help him if he needed any help.

It is inevitable that elders with whom one has a good relationship will always want their children to be good friends as well. She indeed went to Xiuwenguan to pay a visit as soon as she arrived in Beijing - after all, if this brother had heard the news that she was in Beijing from somewhere else, he might feel neglected and unfamiliar if he was more sensitive.

Unfortunately, it always happens by chance.

She felt sorry for both of them for mistaking the fat prince for her brother, but she had no image of this brother in her mind - she only felt that he came from a remote family, had only been practicing sword for a short time, and was now alone, so he should still need someone to teach and take care of him.

And now she was standing in the Fantasy Tower, which was a situation she had never imagined.

In fact, she was still quite unfamiliar with everything. She didn't know what kind of place Shenjing was, who she was facing... and she hadn't even reported to the Sword Training Academy yet.

But she clearly remembered the plight of those poor people who were rescued from Liguan when she went to Jingzhao Prefecture to inquire about the news.

Master Xu said that those were the "goods" for Huanlou to choose from, and the identity of the owner of Huanlou was still uncertain.

So now she stands here.

Jiang Yiner drew her sword, the name of the sword was [Zhaoshen].

She stepped into the Seven Steps. To some people, this was a brand new name, to others, it was just a young sword in the middle of the Duck List. However, when she swung her first sword, everyone was shocked; when she swung her second sword, some people were shocked; when she swung her third sword, the face of the Black Fox in the upper position even raised his chin slightly.

Jiang Yiner was already within four steps.

……

"...Brother Ning, how many geniuses are hidden in your Taoist sect?" Chu Shuiting's tense brows finally dropped after watching the third sword, and he sighed softly, "She ranked over 500th, apparently because she only encountered opponents ranked over 500th at that time."

"I heard that this Junior Sister Jiang is a master of both magic and swordsmanship." Ning Chaolie shook his head and smiled. "After seeing her sword today, I suspect that she is lying."

"There are so many heroes in the world..." Zhou Shise smiled drunkenly and handed over the wine pot, "Saints and wise men are all lonely, drinkers leave their names, come on."

Chu Shuiting took it and said, "With such an opportunity, Brother Zhou, don't you really want to go up and give it a try?"

"Beautiful clothes are criticized by people, and brilliant ones are evil... I won't go, I won't go." Zhou Shise lay on his side, shaking his head. Ning Chaolie smiled and turned around and said, "My poet friend seems to have won too."

The person who stepped forward on the other side of the poetry field was Wen Qi.

The man walked in with a smile on his face, took off the chicken mask on his face, and recited a poem. After a while, the crowd cheered and the atmosphere was extremely warm.

"Wen Qi writes good poems and fu. His historical poems are bold and spirited, and his descriptions of scenery and emotions are elegant and delicate..." Xu Menglang whispered, raising his glass and taking a sip, "I'm not surprised that this man's poetry is ranked first today... See, it's true."

The copied poems were quickly passed around the banquet hall, and even the two people at the edge were almost the last to receive one.

The man's beautiful eyes were a little dazed as he stared at the piece of paper, as if frozen for a moment.

Pei Ye leaned over to take a look and saw a seven-character poem on history titled "Passing by Chen Lin's Tomb".

It is said:

I have seen the relics in the history books, and today I am passing by this grave.

If the poet has a spirit, he should recognize me. I pity you because you are a talented person without a master.

The Stone Unicorn is buried under the spring grass, while the Bronze Sparrow stands desolate against the evening clouds.

Don’t be surprised that I feel more melancholy when facing the wind. I want to learn calligraphy and sword and join the army.

"If the poet has a spirit, he should recognize me..." Xu Menglang murmured in astonishment, looking up at the carved beams high up, with moonlight leaking through the cracks... He suddenly smiled, put down the piece of paper, lowered his head and drank another glass of wine.

It is indeed a good poem. Pei Ye read it quietly several times. The poet's spirit almost emerged from the words.

This is certainly not a flattery, nor does it show any fawning, nor is it the kind of logical sentence that Xin Dongxue wrote. This must be the poem that the poet wanted to write...that's why it seems so good.

Pei Ye glanced at the man beside him, and then he remembered the sentence "His poems must be very good... much better than mine". Pei Ye did not ask why Wen Qi could write such poems. Pei Ye had seen him chatting and laughing with Ning Chaolie, and saw the attitude of those guests towards him at this time, and also remembered... he did not come in behind someone like Lu Xiu.

There is a difference between having talent but not being recognized and having talent but not being recognized. For some people, there are just bumps in the road, while for others, there is a cliff in front of them.

"...Mr. Pei, do you believe it?" Xu Menglang suddenly whispered.

"what?"

"I can write poems about history better than him." Xu Menglang raised his head, his eyes as clear as those of a drunken man, and looked at the young man in front of him.

"I believe."

Xu Menglang raised his head and laughed: "Hahaha, it's enough if you believe it!"

But at this moment, the man's expression suddenly became restrained, and he looked into the empty space, his face beginning to become a little stiff.

It was Yu Guangzhong, a tall woman walking towards him.

Lu Xiu still looked noble and indifferent, as if she didn't see the two people talking here, or even though this scene had been in her sight for a long time, she had never paid any attention to it.

Lu Xiu was not "too lazy to care" about what the servants did, but this matter had never entered his mind.

For the eldest daughter of the Lu family, there are few things in the world that she can look up to, and she never looks down.

Pei Yezheng smiled and said, "You just can't write the poem you want to write, not that you are not as good as——"

He was interrupted by Mo Ran. Lu Xiu stood in front of the desk and handed him a piece of paper: "Write a seven-character poem about the sword fight just now. I will give it to him in a moment."

Pei Ye paused, and Xu Menglang stiffly raised his hand, as if he was a fresh man who had gradually escaped from his old skin, and was entangled by that dirty skin again.

Pei Ye raised her hand to hold his hand down, frowned and looked up and said, "We were just chatting, don't you have eyes?"

……

Poems were circulated among the guests, and swords shone brightly under the candlelight.

Jiang Yin'er took three steps with three swords. If Chu Shuiting was the most thrilling and Chen Quan was the most domineering, then the sword held by this girl must be the only sword in this banquet that could rival He Ju in grace.

She was like a shadow flowing in the spring water, or petals brushing against your cheek when you lean on the railing, and she was gone when you wake up.

No matter how amazed others were, the girl used the sword very seriously, with clear eyes focused and lips slightly pursed. She remembered that every sword she had just seen below was for the game at this moment.

Three moves is probably a watershed. Those who can use three sword moves are rare in the world. And after that, it is often the world of gifted people.

Jiang Yiner used the three swords in a row very vividly. With a slight pause at this moment, she entered a new battlefield.

Three steps were enough for Hejiu to prepare a stunning sword move.

It seemed that the young swordsman was also tired of the game of intrigue and deception with the swordsman. Facing a swordsman like the girl, the sword he used was bright and beautiful... a style of [Tianlan] that was uncovered.

When the crane reaches the ninth level, it sees wind, clouds, rain, snow, sun, moon and stars.

The sword of all things, the unimaginable sword feeling and tempering, is of course the sword of intention, the beautiful sword of intention - in the last game, this little sword fairy clearly reached the sixth step before using this level of swordsmanship.

Even the sacred feeling just now was squeezed out, and in an instant the red building seemed to disappear. Everyone stood on the back of a crane, seeing the fairy spirit and grandeur of this sword.

But there was no fluctuation on the girl's face, only a serious look on her slightly furrowed brows. She took firm steps forward, and the sword, as clear as spring water, flowed forward. Then all the huge and magnificent scenes were slightly distorted, as if under a layer of rippling waves.

The next moment, people suddenly realized that it was all just an illusion.

With one sword, the illusion disappeared, and the light and shadow on the girl's sword disappeared, leaving only a pair of firm and clear eyes.

It’s even hard to say that it’s the Taoist Shenxiao’s swordsmanship…that’s Ying Suyu’s own swordsmanship.

"Phoenix Travel", [Spring water casts shadows, ice mirror reflects spirits]

Jiang Yiner took two steps and reached the sixth step.

(End of this chapter)