Zhentiandi Road

"In the Great World of the Vast Sea, I do know that the whole world there is a sea, and only a small number of islands are floating on the sea. There are many powerful monsters in the sea of ​​the Great Vast Sea World, each of which is huge and powerful, but In the eyes of monks of all races, these monsters are precious treasures, so many monks go to the vast world to hunt monsters to earn fairy stones."

Concubine Zi explained on the side.

Dijing nodded and understood that there should be a lot of these skeletons in the vast sea world, and the price will be much cheaper, so many monks took the skeletons they got to other big worlds to sell, although it took a lot of effort, But the harvested fairy stones are even more.

The two walked forward again, Zifei still pointed to the things on those stalls and kept explaining, Dijing followed beside, and occasionally the two also bought something.

There are many fairy stones in the imperial capital, and there is no shortage of them. If you take Nian Ling's natal weapon, and then capture and suppress it, you will naturally get all his wealth. A Xuanxian, even if he is not rich, will have millions. What's more, disciples like Nian Ling from the big sect have a lot of wealth in their hands, not only more than 2000 million immortal stones, but also many precious materials.

Moreover, even if there is no such wealth from Nian Ling, Dijing still has immortal stones that can never be spent. In Beiming Dojo, all Kunpeng’s belongings are there. Things like immortal stones are for people of Kunpeng’s level. It's not useful, but I have collected a lot. Many of them have a lot of fairy stones in the spaces that Kunpeng opened up at will. Not only are the quality good, but the quantity is even more difficult to count.

Therefore, Dijing is not worried that his immortal stones are not enough.

"Huh? Something seems to have happened in front, Brother Dijing, let's go and have a look."

At this time, I don't know what happened in front of me, many monks surrounded me, Zifei looked up and said to Dijing.

"En." Di Jing nodded, walked in front, and rushed towards the crowd with his concubine.

When the two came closer, they found that one was arguing with a stall owner.

Dijing raised his eyes and found that there was nothing on the booth, only a few words condensed by mana, with the word "painter" in the middle, and a line of small characters on both sides of the painter, one side was "painting all living beings" Wanxiang", on one side is "Three Thousand Masters".

The stall owner is an old man with a snow-white beard, ruddy complexion, and eyes full of light. He holds a paintbrush in his hand, and some blank drawing papers are placed in front of him; but the one arguing with the old man is a man with an indifferent face. , holding a portrait of a figure in his hand, the ink on the portrait is still fresh, obviously just finished, the figure on the painting is exactly the same as that man's clothes, but the face is completely different.

"Brother Daoist, dare to ask what's going on here?" Di Jing asked a monk beside him.

"Brother Dao is coming here for the first time?" The monk glanced at Dijing, asked, and then continued without waiting for Dijing's answer: "This old man is a painter. I am a monk who specializes in painting for people." It's the first time I've seen him, but his painting skills are really powerful. He came to this Arctic City every day for more than ten days, and then rented a booth here, specializing in painting for people. One painting is one hundred fairy stones. At the beginning, there was no one at all. I paid attention to it, but someone came to ask him to make a painting. After returning, he found that he could melt into the soul, but after melting into it, the painting disappeared, but the soul became more pure. As soon as this story spread, many monks They all flocked here, and the artist's reputation is getting bigger and bigger, and he is known as the old painter."

A painting can actually make the soul more pure. This ability is really powerful. Dijing was slightly shocked when he heard it. The soul is the root of a living being. Only when the cultivation base is promoted, the soul will change and become It is purer and closer to the nature of the world. At other times, without special encounters, it is impossible for the soul to transform, and the paintings of this old man have such abilities.

"After those monks took back the portraits, they found that they really had the effect of purifying the soul, and they all came again. However, the old painter shook his head and refused, saying that everyone only painted one picture. This time he changed his disguise, but I don’t know what method Hua Lao used to tell at a glance whether he had painted a portrait of this person, and those people had no choice but to leave.” The monk continued.

"Oh? There is such an ability?" Dijing was surprised again. Many monks know the art of transformation. If you want to distinguish it after transformation, you must have a much higher cultivation level than the other party or there is something special about it. The method, however, is not simple either way.

"This man should also come here because of his reputation, but for some reason, the paintings made by Mr. Hua are not the same person as this man except for the clothes. That's why this man started a dispute with Mr. Hua and demanded Return the hundred immortal stones."

Hearing the monk beside him explain what was going on, Dijing raised his head to look at the field, only to see that, facing the man's noise and demands, Hua Lao's expression remained unchanged, he just looked up at the man, and said indifferently: "Little old man uses painting as his way of life, and he never makes mistakes. The skin can change a lot, but the soul has only one face."

After hearing Hua Lao's words, the man's complexion changed, he put away the portrait, and left with a cold snort.

Di Jing, who was on the side, was shocked at this time. The meaning of the old words of the painting was that the painting was not at all the appearance of a living being, but the soul.

"No wonder you can tell at a glance whether you have painted portraits for others. It turns out that he can see the souls of the monks. In that case, no matter how much you change, it will be useless."

As the saying goes, it is difficult to paint the bones when painting a tiger's skin, but the old painter in front of him knows the art of painting bones.

After the man left, the surrounding monks also dispersed, but some monks stayed and took out a hundred fairy stones, asking Hua Lao to paint.

"Brother Dijing, look..." Zifei Bingxue was smart, and naturally understood the meaning of Hua's old saying, looked at Dijing, and said.

"En, amazing." Di Jing nodded and praised.

At this time, Mr. Hua took out a blank drawing paper, looked up at the monk sitting in front of the booth, then raised the brush in his hand, and began to draw on the drawing paper.

The paintbrush doesn't use any paint or ink, and every time it falls into the void, a force will wrap around the tip of the brush, and then fall on the drawing paper to form various color marks.

Dijing felt it carefully, and the power in the void was faintly connected with the person sitting in front of the booth. The power came from nowhere, first entered the person's body, and then came out through the body , falling on the tip of the brush.

Hua Lao paints at an extremely fast speed, and within a quarter of an hour, a painting is completely finished.I saw that the figure in the painting was vivid and lifelike, the same as the monk's face, with a kind of aura faintly emanating, as if to break out of the painting, and the same breath as the monk in front of the booth, even the eyes were exactly the same.

"Sure enough, it can be called a masterpiece of supernatural work." Dijing looked at it and slightly praised.

"Indeed, it's exactly the same as a real person." Concubine Zi sighed slightly beside her.

The two of them were about to leave, but the old man turned his head, glanced at the two of them, and said: "You two, please stay."

ps: collection, red ticket...