Cultivation of immortals, the beginning of cultivating demons for ten years

Chapter 63 There is no such thing as a fairy [seek all support! 】

Yan Ping was carried into a thatched hut.

Two big rough hands were undressing him and pulling at his trousers.

Yan Ping shuddered, coughed quickly, his big rough hands stopped, and one of them shouted: "Patriarch, you're awake."

A thick arm helped Yan Ping up, holding a bowl of water to feed him, Yan Ping did not refuse this time, took a sip of water, and asked with a confused face: "Who are you, where am I?"

"here it is……"

"This is the Demon Village."

The old man in the ripped green shirt came in.

"Demon Village?"

"Monster Village, a village opened up by the Monster Race."

"Alan, Amei, check this young man's body, he should be given medicine."

"Yes, Grandpa."

Seeing that the two strong men were about to tear his clothes and pants again, Yan Ping quickly jumped out of the bed and said, "No, I'm fine, I was just scared by the monster."

Fearing that these people would not believe it, Yan Ping jumped up and down twice.

"It's good that it's okay. A lot of people died before they could make it through, and then they became the rations of monsters."

"Monster, monster eats people?" Yan Ping trembled.

The old man in the ripped green shirt nodded: "Eat people and drink blood, just like us people raise pigs and sheep for meat, and monsters raise us for the purpose of eating human flesh and drinking human blood."

"Live well, you are still young, as long as there is no disease or disaster, they will not eat you, at most they will release a little blood from you. Only the old ones will be eaten when they are dying."

"Sometimes they meet some of their festivals, and they have to entertain guests at the banquet, and they will pick someone to eat."

The old man in the ripped green shirt spoke in a flat tone about the horrific cannibalism and blood drinking incident, without anger or sadness, as if he was stating a bloody fact, which you cannot help but accept.

Yan Ping found that the human race here eats very well, there are meat and vegetables, and even if he wants to come to the Chonggu sect monster race, he doesn't want to raise people.

After eating a bowl of savory broth, a burly man walked in and handed Yan Ping a long white shirt.

"The clothes used to belong to a scholar, but they were picked up and eaten by monsters a while ago. It's not good to be white and clean, and monsters like to eat you fair and clean scholars. If you want to live a long time, you have to be like me, rough and rough. hard."

"The clothes are a bit small, just wear them."

"Thank you."

Yan Ping put on his clothes, walked out of the thatched hut, and started to stroll around the village.

Following the sound of childish reading, he found a simple school located on a dirt slope.

The teacher was a middle-aged man with dark skin and an unshaven beard. His bulging muscles seemed to burst the Confucian shirt on his body.

It also feels rough and hard.

There are many students in the class, both male and female. Yan Ping counted carefully, there are 120 students, the youngest is three or four years old, and the oldest is eight or nine years old.

Children over the age of ten are in another classroom, and there are also 180 six people.

The teacher is also a rough and tough middle-aged Confucian student.

Leaving the school, Yan Ping continued to stroll. In the fields on the hills, men plowed the land to grow vegetables. Next to the house, women were washing clothes and drying quilts.

An old monk led a group of middle-aged monks to recite sutras, as if they were saving the souls of the dead.

The elderly woman was sitting under the big tree and was carefully mending the clothes of her grandson or granddaughter. There was a kind of nostalgia and pity in her eyes that couldn't be hidden.

Dangdangdang~!

When the bell rang, the students swarmed out of the school, or went to help their father in the field, or returned home to help their mother light a fire.

The only thing that doesn't have the laughter and frolic that children of this age should have.

An indescribable emotion clogged Yan Ping's chest, making him so uncomfortable that he could hardly breathe.

Yan Ping has always believed that fate is like the palm prints in a person's hand, no matter how twists and turns, it is ultimately in his own hands and he decides his own destiny.

But for the people here, the fate is already in the hands of others as soon as they are born.

He seemed to see batch after batch of children rushing out of the school.Generation after generation, persist in this environment, insist on the inheritance of knowledge, and insist that the culture of the human race has not been cut off.

Yan Ping didn't know what force made the people here so persistent.

He just knew he was in the right place.

Yan Ping took a deep breath and blinked his red eyes.

"Student? Look at your face, you were just arrested today?"

Yan Ping turned around and found that it was one of the two rough and tough middle-aged Confucian scholars.

This rough and tough middle-aged Confucian scholar was even harder than the other one.

"Yan Ping and Yan Wenjin of the Great Zhouyue Lake Academy have met Mr."

"Yan Wenjin, what a good name, how did you get caught, and you also went into the mountains to escape the disaster of war?"

"Yes."

The middle-aged Confucian scholar looked at Yan Ping carefully, shook his head, and said, "When you have time, you can spend more time in the sun and exercise your body. You are too fair, and your skin is fairer and tenderer than a woman's. This is not good."

Lunch was eaten at the patriarch's house, and Yan Ping met the middle-aged Confucian scholar again. He was the youngest son of the patriarch, and the eldest son of the patriarch was eaten when he was 20 years old.

Amei, Alan is his daughter.

They kept sneaking glances at Yan Ping at the dinner table, they had never seen such a good-looking scholar.

After lunch, the patriarch found a few rough and strong men to help Yan Ping build a thatched hut by the side of the village.

He also gave hoes and other agricultural tools.

At night, several brave girls came into his thatched hut, wanting to sleep with him, but Yan Ping refused.

The girls cried and told him that when they became adults, they would be randomly assigned by the monsters to the other three resident men in a few days.

They want to dedicate the first time to the man they love before they leave.

It's all the fault of being too handsome.

Yan Ping was so handsome, he immediately attracted the attention of the girls in the demon village, and they were not the only ones who were excited.

Yan Ping didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he could only comfort them: "Persist for a few more days, maybe a miracle will happen, maybe you will be free in the future, and you don't have to be assigned like piggies."

"You guys like me now is just the result of impulsiveness. A girl's first time is precious, and you should leave the first time to the man you really like."

"Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo"

One girl cries, and the other girls cry.

They, their mothers, their grandma... At their age, they have imagined countless times that a fairy passing by, seeing the poor people who are enslaved here, will come down from the clouds, kill demons and demons, and save them from fire and water .

But no, in the hundreds of years, several waves of chivalrous men appeared, trying to save people, but unfortunately they all died.

fairy.

Oh, fairy.

The immortals stay away from the secular world, live freely in the world, and devote themselves to asking for longevity, so they don't care about the life and death of mortals like them.

"People say that immortals are different, but there are no immortals. Immortals and immortals are also human beings. They have supernatural abilities. Why don't they come to save us poor people? Why!"

Yan Ping was silent, he knew the girls were right.

Immortals live in seclusion in the blessed land and caves, famous mountains and rivers, and indeed rarely set foot in the mundane world.Sometimes it is to settle the secular karma or enter the world to protect the way for the younger generation.

The survival of the human race in Nanhuang Yaoshan, as long as there are immortals who are willing to take action, it will not be like this.

Cultivating immortals, is longevity really that important?As a result, there is no trace of human fireworks in the person who cultivates.

Taishang Wangqing, to become a fairy, do you really need Taishang Wangqing?

Yan Ping didn't know, if he really wanted to be too forgetful, he would rather not cultivate such a fairy.

Immortals are different, but there are no immortals.

Yes, there is no such thing as a fairy.

In the ancient land, which immortal did not come out of the mortal world step by step, and which immortal did not practice hard for the rise of the human race.

As time goes by, the current fairy seems to be less fairy.

"Hold on, hold on for a few more days, I have a hunch that there will be immortals to rescue us."

(End of this chapter)