I have many teachers

Chapter 94 Unexpected plan unfolds
In the next few days, Wang Anfeng immersed himself in the practice.

72 Shoushipo has already started in the more intensive and intense fights, the sword shadow pierces through the air, fierce and complicated, and the Hundred Poisons Invasive Hunyuan Body has reached the limit of what his current physique can achieve, no matter how strong it is, it will be harmful to himself The loss outweighs the gain.

Maybe it's because it hasn't been long since the medicinal bath was completed, and the medicinal power hasn't dissipated.

There is always a faint medicinal fragrance all over the young man, which makes the scribes look coldly.

Resting in practice at night, and in the Fufeng Academy during the day, Wang Anfeng walked around the academy, and occasionally met Gu Jianzhang and others, walking with each other, talking about current affairs, and gradually getting acquainted.

Although he is the keeper of the Fufeng Library in name, this Fengzi Building is actually completely the world of Ren Lao, and there is no difference in whether he is present or not.

The yin and yang family Su Wenchang Su Gambler who opened the market last time once said with a smile that his real name, Fufeng Bookkeeper, should be called Library Sweeper. Even with his colleagues, he could only chuckle helplessly.

It seems that this is the case.

Fufeng Xuegong was founded in Confucianism, and although various schools entered it later, the basic building is still the Sixth Palace.

Ceremony, music, shooting.

Yu, book, number.

The etiquette and the law have always been the same, and there was no difference thousands of years ago. Students studying in the palace need to know the laws of this world, follow the ancient rituals, and understand the rhythm of silk and bamboo. The two palaces of shooting became more and more popular, and there was a special place for performing martial arts, for disciples to fight each other with swords and demonstrate what they had learned.

Wang Anfeng has been to that place where martial arts is performed several times, and once he was with Gu Jianzhang and others, and got to know the steward there.

It was a middle-aged man in a gray Confucian shirt, and he was also a wonderful person who could arouse people's appetite anytime and anywhere.

His mouth seems to be eating all the time, obviously it is just an ordinary snack, but he tastes very tempting, as if it is the best taste in the world, it is mouth-watering, sometimes it is dried fruit, sometimes it is crispy fried peanuts , the heat has not dissipated, sprinkle some fine salt on top, it is best to serve with wine.

He was still chewing two grains while drinking warm and soft rice wine, leaning on the grand teacher's chair with an elegant and uninhibited posture, but the Confucian shirt was always stained with oil, it looked sloppy, but it was really Fufeng plays a strange martial arts.

And during this time, there is a new monster, that is, the Fufeng Book Keeper.

Most of the people who come here are willing to show what they have learned, but the blue-shirted boy often comes, but never plays.

He clearly holds a sword, but always says that he is not good at swordsmanship.

Normally, he just chatted with the Confucian scholar in charge, and then he didn't know what he thought, and one day he brought the pot and stove.

Cut the fine ribs into three strips, bring to a boil over high heat, remove the scum, and then add hot oil, wrap the ribs cut into squares with green onion, ginger, and garlic, add oil while it is hot, saute until fragrant and add water, then cook with extreme savvy With the help of the whip lock, most of the charcoal was pulled out, and by the way, the taro, radish, lotus root, and yam were cut into small pieces, and they were put in together, and only stewed slowly over low heat.

While talking softly with the steward, asking some unfinished questions, and pouring some powder for seasoning, the middle-aged Confucian scholar swallowed secretly, his eyes were green, three souls and seven souls had already been taken away by the food, two souls and six souls, There was only a gluttonous soul left, a gluttonous soul, with a pair of eyes staring straight at the black pot, and the young man answered whatever he asked, with details everywhere.

Wang Anfeng nodded again and again, and the puzzlement in his heart disappeared. At the same time, he held a tattered cattail fan in his right hand and fanned it lightly. The pure white soup gurgled and rolled, and the mellow aroma diffused in the martial arts arena like a cloud. At noon, two students, one with a sword and the other with a wooden spear, were fighting fiercely. When they smelled the aroma, there was thunder in their stomachs, and their fighting spirit disappeared.

The thunder continued, and he covered his face and ran away.

I hate it so much, but this place is under the management of the manager, and if the Confucian scholars don't speak, what can they do.

After this day, he became famous in Fufeng Academy by playing the role of the kitchen god of martial arts.

The son of the military family in the fight, first because the young man lost all his money for two months, and even used toilet paper for only one-third of the usual, the daily expenses were so frugal that those who heard it cried and those who saw it were sad, and then because He couldn't eat enough, so he was nicknamed "Thunder in the belly" during the martial arts competition.

I can't wait to find an opportunity to slash that 'Yanwu Kitchen God' in the martial arts arena.

But at this time, the rumors of "Yanwu Kitchen God" and "Thunder in the Belly" are spreading wildly outside. He comes from a family, and he is the most cheeky. He is not willing to go out again. He just holds his gun every day and lies straight on the bed. The right is to reduce consumption , save money.

Today, I had a meal of meat and was lying on the bed when suddenly someone pushed the door open and shouted:

"In the abdomen, no, Xiu Wei, the Kitchen God of Martial Arts has gone again!"

The voice paused, then shouted again:

"I moved the pot and stove!"

The military disciple opened his eyes instantly and gritted his teeth.

In the martial arts arena, the Confucian scholar was sitting on the chair of the grand master, snoring like thunder. Wang Anfeng smiled lightly, and put the pot and stove in his hand on the soil beside him. On the table, the scabbard is plain, just like the clothes on his body.

Taking the initiative to learn the sword is to get rid of his suspicion.

But you can't act rashly when you are successful. Mr. Jiang once said that everything happens naturally.

Being too deliberate may also attract suspicion.

Should not take the initiative to shoot.

It should arouse the curiosity of others, challenge oneself again and again but fail, and then make a move, it seems natural.

So although he came, he didn't go on stage, he said he was not good at swordsmanship, but he never left his sword.

Although his swordsmanship is dirty in the eyes of Mr. Ying, but it is complicated, and his boxing skills are not bad, enough to fulfill his expectations...

At this time, Wang Anfeng completed his plan quietly and meticulously, as if he agreed that it was difficult to overcome.

The incarnation is hard to calm down, holding a sword and striding three thousand miles for several months, after all, it is impossible for the wind to pass through the bamboo without leaving any traces. The way back.

People in the Jianghu have the ability, the people in the Jianghu have the heart, and want to go back to the Daliang Mountains, cut wood and feed the pigs, this life is already a delusion.

Gain and loss, after all, between one thought.

As the pot and stove were raised, bursts of fragrance wafted out. The young man smiled, holding a cattail fan in his hand, and fanned the fragrance towards the middle-aged man.

When he was chatting in the martial arts field, he found that although the steward was sloppy, he had learned a lot. He knew almost everything, but he had a bad temper.

The words are fascinating, but they always stop in the middle of the sentence and insist on not opening. The young man can't ask again and again, so he has to come up with this bad plan.

This is the medicinal porridge taught by the second master.

The young man secretly laughed.

The aroma filled the air, and the sleeping Confucian scholar moved his nose slightly, his eyes trembled, and when he opened his eyes, his body stretched, and he stretched lazily. His eyes were still open, and he lazily murmured with a feeling of sleepiness:
"When you feel gluttonous and have a good dream, let it be cold and cold. The salty party matters, the sweet party talks, and the diners are all over the world."

"The white head of the pine mash is poured, and the sorghum meat is a big spectacle. Hahaha, I woke up from a dream, just in time for dinner."

Amidst the laughter, he had already appeared beside the boy.

Like a dream, it is obviously a very clever body technique. The Confucian scholar squinted his eyes, took a deep breath of the fragrance, and said intoxicated: "It smells good, it smells good, it's a good thing, little lunatic, give me a bite." bowl."

"The junior is not a lunatic."

The young man gritted his teeth and responded, but he was also a little curious about his appearance, so he swiped his right hand from his waist, and a large iron spoon used for scooping porridge shook an afterimage, and he held it in his grasp.

At this moment, there was a sudden sound of hurried footsteps, and then the evil wind came through the air, pointing directly at Wang Anfeng's shoulder, the accident happened suddenly, the young man instinctively avoided the footsteps, and raised the iron spoon in his hand. Like a demon, he instinctively used the move of Qinglong to break the water, swinging the stabbing wooden spear one by one to remove the energy from it, but the dust couldn't stop it, misty, and spilled a pot.

In front of the pot, the faces of the two men, one long and one young, were suddenly intoxicated.

A military boy in red and silver armor raised his eyebrows upside down, his eyes seemed to have flames rising, and he shouted:
"Wang Anfeng, hurry up and fight with me!"

Breathing out of the lungs, the tip of the gun moved slightly, and the ash on the top vibrated a little more, floating on the porridge surface, as if mocking...

"My medicinal porridge..."

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(End of this chapter)