There's No Witch I Can't Wash

Because there are too many freaks in the Confucianism sect, maybe a certain disciple was still training his body the day before, and then he wrote a poem, and somehow he became innate.

This is an unbelievable way of cultivation, where the eyeballs can pop out, but to a certain extent it is similar to the path Yan Zhiqiu took.

If you don't sing, you will become a blockbuster, a way to reach the sky in one step!

However, many people have been groping and researching for a long time, but they still don't understand how the method of the Confucianists is achieved.

Of course, there are only a few Confucianists who can reach the sky in such an exaggerated step. Since ancient times, there have been only a few people with such talent. If everyone wrote a poem, they would be innate, and I am afraid that the whole world will surrender to the Confucianism. .

Most people are still like Xue Wencheng, jumping up to several floors at once in a realm. Of course, even so, the speed of this cultivation is jaw-dropping enough.

Such an achievement is not something that Xue Wencheng can do by himself, what he relies on is the power of the fetish in his hand.

Of course, it does not mean that anyone is qualified to use this fetish, the Yin-Yang Book of Spring and Autumn Brush, and those who are recognized by such a fetish must be talented people.

Even among the Confucian sects, there are very few disciples who can experience the experience of these two fetishes and make them recognize their masters.

And each owner of these gods will return the gods to the sect after comprehending the many essences recorded in the Yin-Yang book and stepping into the innate through it, waiting for the next destined person to appear.

So Xue Wencheng didn't expect Lin Ye to be able to write anything at all. Gods such as the Yin Yang Book and the Spring and Autumn Brush cannot be controlled by anyone, and he had to work hard to get his approval.

In his opinion, Lin Ye's ability to hold the Yin-Yang book in his hand and the Spring and Autumn Brush in his hand was already the limit.

However, he never expected that Lin Ye could actually write.

Could it be that this time I went out, I could be so lucky to win a talented talent? !

Being able to use the Spring and Autumn Brush to leave handwriting on the yin and yang book naturally proved that Lin Ye had Tibetan ink in his chest and poetry in his stomach.

What a seedling!One in a million seedlings!We must find a way to let this brother join our Confucianism sect!

Xue Wencheng thought so happily, and the smile on his face disappeared completely in the next second.

The flirtatious blood-like handwriting is vivid on the paper, but it is vigorous and full of sadness.

"Ten years of life and death are boundless, unforgettable without thinking."

color? !Why bloody text? !

Xue Wencheng was extremely surprised, but Lin Ye didn't care, and continued to write.

He seems to be immersed in a wonderful state and atmosphere, and seems to be completely immersed in the thoughts of being a creator.

Waving the hand and dancing the pen, the bloody handwriting reappeared.

"A thousand miles of lonely graves, nowhere to speak is desolate."

"Even if you don't know each other when you meet, your face is covered with dust, and your temples are like frost."

Xue Wencheng had no time to think about why the words written by Lin Ye were red. All his mind was attracted by the poems written by the other party.

It's just a few words, but it exaggerates and outlines endless sorrow, which makes Xue Wencheng feel that his whole body is shocked, and his heart seems to be grasped by something.

Sadness, sadness, sadness... The sea of ​​sadness weighed on him and he couldn't breathe.

Xue Wencheng stared at the bloody handwriting, and his black eyes seemed to be dyed red. In his eyes, there seemed to be the scene of a lonely grave in the wilderness, and the lament of the elderly.

However, there is no more after that, and there is no second half of the poem.

Accompanied by an incomparably crisp sound, the writing brush held in Lin Ye's hand broke apart in a violent tremor.

Chunqiu pen, broken!

With a plop, Xue Wencheng knelt down in front of Lin Ye, not because the Zongmen treasure Chunqiu pen was broken, but simply because this word was gone.

There is no second half of this word!

"Do not!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Thinking of this, Xue Wencheng involuntarily let out a pitiful cry from his mouth, which gave Lin Ye a big jump when he was fascinated by the broken pen and half-written words.

Why are you crying and howling? Isn't it just a pen, if it breaks, it will be broken. At worst, I will accompany you with ten pens.

But for some reason, after breaking up with the pen, Lin Ye also felt that his mood became extremely irritable.

There was no way to continue writing this poem. Lin Ye felt as if there was a stagnation in his heart that could not be released, and he was indescribably uncomfortable.

"The quality of your broken pen is really bad!"

After complaining like this, Lin Ye simply grabbed the brush that was broken in two and continued writing.

Although the pen is broken, it doesn't mean that you can't continue writing, does it?

Seeing Lin Ye continue to write, Xue Wencheng also showed joy, and continued to stare closely.

"Ye Lai You Meng suddenly returned home, Xiao Xuan Chuang, dressing up."

Crack...Crack...Crack...Crack...

As Lin Ye continued to write, the cracking sound that made people's teeth tingle came from his hand, but it was the pen that Lin Ye was forcibly pinching in his hand that continued to shatter.

What the hell is going on with this broken pen?

I can't figure it out, but the strength in Lin Ye's hand has also become stronger, as if he is afraid that the pen will completely fall apart in his hand, making it impossible for him to continue writing.

Write it down, and finish writing this poem completely, otherwise...he will feel uncomfortable all over!

"There are no words for each other, but only tears."