Cultivation of Immortals Begins with Drilling Wood To Make Fire

  Chapter 92 [The Urge of He Qiuyue]

  Sang Ziping took his apprentices, settled and cleaned the bed in the guest room, put three packages on the bedside, and took out several utensils and put them on the table.

   When it was finished, he asked his two apprentices:

   "Wei He, An Ning, go out later, you must maintain enough respect for this Mr. Fang."

  Second apprentice Wei He nodded, keeping it in mind.

  The third apprentice, Mu Anning, was young and lively, and was favored. He said with a smile, "I'll save it, Master. You taught us that when you are a guest, you must behave like a guest. Mr. Fang is the owner of this place, so of course we have to treat each other with courtesy."

"Not only that."

  Sang Ziping said solemnly: "On the road of practice, this is also a senior expert. He has gone further on this road, so naturally he deserves enough respect from us."

"…oh."

   "Let's go out and have a look together, don't keep Mr. Fang waiting for too long." Seeing that the apprentices had understood, Sang Ziping said, and the two apprentices obediently followed the master out of the guest room after hearing the words.

  The aroma of food wafted all over the cliff, whetting the appetites of those who smelled it. Mu Anning, the youngest, was already a little hungry. He smelled this aroma, his throat wriggled, and he kept swallowing saliva.

   "Come in, please."

  Fang Chang saw the three guests coming out from the kitchen, and greeted them.

When Sang Ziping and his disciples sat down, he quickly put several dishes and a pot of staple food on the table, and performed a descaling technique on his hands without any trace, and sat at the table: "In the mountains, The conditions are simple, please don't dislike it."

   "Haha, how could it be." Sang Ziping laughed when he heard the words, "This is already very good, and our masters and apprentices are also people from the mountains, and our daily life is far worse than Mr. Fang's here, and we are never picky."

   "Let's use it, Mr. Sang, let's use it." After finishing speaking, Fang Chang took the lead to grab a sweet potato and handed it to Sang Ziping.

Since he came to this world, he has been living alone, so he has a lot of opportunities to practice cooking. Every time Fang Chang cooks by himself, he will always have more confidence in his cooking skills, but because the ingredients are simple and seasoning, he can't always cook. play out.

  This is the first time guests have arrived, and Fang Chang is somewhat concerned about their reaction and evaluation of the meal.

   "Good workmanship, sir."

  Hearing Sang Ziping's words, Fang Chang smiled and said: "As long as you like it, please use it to your heart's content."

  Seeing that Mr. Fang also started grabbing potatoes and stretching his chopsticks to eat, Sang Ziping gave his little apprentice a hard look.

  But the young Mu Anning who was wolfing down his food didn't notice the displeasure in the eyes of the master next to him, he just lowered his head and ate happily. Seeing that the little apprentice was unmoved, Sang Ziping frowned and stretched out his chopsticks to eat.

  The main course on the table is a large plate of steamed bacon, which is in stock in the winter, and it is still not finished. Served with the soft and glutinous steamed sweet potatoes as the staple food, it will give people a great taste.

  For the three who rarely see oil stars due to poverty, this dish is very hard.

In addition, there is a large bowl of stewed fish, a plate of cold-cut salted pheasant, several plates of various vegetables, a fruit platter, and a small pot of soup made of berries. salty. Compared with the simple environment on Xianqi Cliff, this is indeed rich.

  Fang Chang also plans to go to the foot of the mountain to get a few chickens to raise, so that he can often eat egg drop soup.

   While chatting, the food went down quickly.

  As the sky was getting dark, Fang Chang went to get a fire from the tripod next to him, and lit the oil lamp on the table.

  The lights are like beans, but they illuminate the room brightly and block the night outside. The cold mountain breeze at night seems to be far away, making the kitchen that doubles as a restaurant look very warm.

  ...

  …

  A gray pigeon flapped its wings and flew forward swiftly and quickly.

  Below the wings, there is a vast land covered with farmland, houses, roads and canals. It is a sign of the prosperity of the human race, but it is a bit the same if you look at it too much.

  However, it does not need to look at the landmarks, it knows the directions around it, and can also judge the direction it is going to. This is the natural instinct of the pigeon species, but it is often disturbed by iron ore and the like.

  The place where the pigeon is flying is not high. In the high sky behind it, a goshawk is circling.

  Goshawk's eyes are very sharp, and the ability to lock the target is extremely strong, which is also a racial talent.

   Pigeons passing below cannot escape its eyes. Slightly fluttering its wings, closing its wings slightly, and staring sharply, the goshawk glides down like a sharp arrow towards the dove, and swoops down fiercely!

  The pigeon continued to fly forward, but it didn't seem to realize that it was being targeted, nor did it notice that a hooked beak was already pointing at itself from afar.

  The attackers approached quickly until the distance between the two sides was only a few feet away. In the next moment, the gray pigeon would be buried in the eagle's claws and be torn into strips of meat as food.

  In the blink of an eye, the pigeon, which looked much weaker, suddenly turned over, its claws tore and its mouth pecked, and after a mournful cry, pieces of eagle feathers fell off.

  Goshawk was actually lost and defeated.

   Goshawk, who was seriously injured, slumped down for dozens of feet before regaining his balance.

  It flapped its wings fiercely, found a direction indiscriminately, and flew far away to escape. The gray pigeon behind flicked the eagle's blood on the tip of its claws, with a hint of contempt in its eyes, instead of catching up, it flapped its wings and continued to fly quickly in the original direction.

  Pigeon still has work to do.

   When the sun reached its highest point, the dove flew to a city. It folded its wings and landed on a window sill.

   "Hey, are you here?"

  There is a table in the window, and a burly man is sitting in front of it and writing. Seeing the pigeon landed on the window sill, the big man greets him very familiarly, and then puts the brush in his hand on the edge of the inkstone.

   "Then what did He Qiuyue say?"

  Hearing the big man's question, the pigeon didn't talk to it, and it couldn't speak, so it just took two steps forward, stretched out its right foot, and tied a small bamboo tube to it, plugged it with a stopper.

  Untied the small bamboo tube, the big man tapped it twice in his hand, and poured out a roll of paper. Unfolding it and looking at it twice, he smiled and said:

   "He Qiuyue, the pigeon spirit, is quite fast."

  The pigeon messenger in front of him looked at him dissatisfied when he heard him slander his kind.

   "Please wait a moment, I will write a reply."

After finishing speaking, he also cut out a piece of paper, picked up the writing brush next to it, and wrote the words "Don't worry, the time to get it is in the near future", then rolled it up and put it in a small bamboo tube, and tied it to the pigeon's right foot in front of him again. superior.

  The latter turned around and stretched its wings, flew out of the window, and then disappeared upwards.

   Laughed lightly, the big man looked at the note in his hand again, the note he had just received said, "I've got it for a long time, and I'm showing my strength. You have to hurry up."

  He blew lightly.

  The note turned into paper dust and floated out of the window.

  Seeing that this piece of paper disappeared like smoke and dust in the wind, the big man simply stopped writing. He cleaned the pen and inserted it upside down in the pen holder, put on some clothes, tidied up slightly, and walked out of the house.

   Thank you for the rewards of my dog, Ma Yuya, book friend 20190511183107971, Jianheng Yanzhu, Chi Chi and others.

  (end of this chapter)