The indescribable Taoist Lord

Zhang San was confused when he heard this. He carefully looked at the mask of the red-faced fairy boy. Although there was a slight smile on the mask, he could also see some complexity.

The iron order engraved with the cloud-patterned heavenly palace is heavy in the hand and is very weighty.

"Buckle it, it's hard to hide your aura. With this mask, you can avoid future troubles. Regardless of the trace of the aura, even the death of Tianji can only be cut off by the illusory 'Sword-holding Spirit Officer'. "

Zhang San smiled innocently - although he didn't know exactly what Tiangong did, he saw with his own eyes what his teacher did.

The reason why he kept listening to Zhang Qinghe's words and even looked forward to them was not because he was stupid and easy to fool. On the contrary, his powers of observation were far beyond those of ordinary people.

Zhang Qinghe may have some intentions for him, so he paid extra attention to him, but in life, the little details of his master's treatment of ordinary people and people in the countryside were all imprinted with kindness. Such a person can be said to be some kind of evil murderer who eats human flesh. It can only be said that he has acted to the point where he has no choice.

Even though this road is a wrong one, if there is an opportunity to explore the origins and whereabouts of my mother who has completely lost her cultivation and her father, then why not step on it?

Zhang San then slowly buttoned up the mask, and a crimson patchwork suit was wrapped around his young torso. Compared to Zhang Qinghe, Zhang San's body shape did not change much. On the surface, unlike the Wude Qilinbu, although this robe is fine in texture, it does not have any complicated decorations. It just has an indescribable sharp Tao Yun inner period.

The mask of the red-faced fairy boy smiles innocently, but the burden behind the smile is also hidden deep.

"It looks good."

Zhang Qinghe's voice, which became rough and powerful after putting on the mask, came out, criticizing the outfit of his little follower.

Zhang Qinghe stretched out his finger slightly and wiped it on Zhang San's forehead. Maybe he thought it felt good, so he rubbed it carefully.

Zhang San slowly tied the heavy iron order around his waist. With this good thing made of the same material as the cast iron chain, the mask's weak influence on his weak mortal soul was no longer in danger.

"Sir, we are going..."

Zhang San prepared all the things and then started to ask - in the past, he would go to the other side of the sand to write and draw talisman formations during class. Today, Zhang Qinghe's appearance made him a little confused about today's schedule.

But before he could finish speaking, Zhang Qinghe loosened his grip on his collar, as if he wanted to throw him directly into the snow below.

"Where ah ah ah ah ah ah!!!"

Zhang San, who was originally afraid of high altitudes and was afraid of attracting the attention of others. He was also attracted by the practice and the sword-wielding spiritual officer, so he kept suppressing his screams. He was suddenly frightened. His hands and feet had already become weak, and his scalp was even worse. It's numb.

The strong wind whistled, making his robes swell more and more, blowing up his gums, and turning his face into an inflatable bun.

Seeing that he was about to land, he still had enough reason and room to twist his torso so that he did not land on his face and fell with his back facing the snow.

"Bang..."

A big hole was made in the fluffy snow by the "Sword-wielding Spirit Officer".

Zhang San got up silently, breathing in the cold breath, as if his young lungs would freeze to the point of congestion before he would give up. His wide eyes were filled with disbelief——

If he hadn't been standing here unscathed, he almost thought Zhang Qinghe was going to kill him casually.

"No injuries at all..."

He estimated the position where Zhang Qinghe stood high in the sky. It was at least fifty feet above the ground. Looking down, his husband's Wude Xingjun uniform looked like a small dot.

If he really fell down like this, he would have turned into meat paste long ago.

"Sir! You almost scared me to death!"

He shouted loudly to Zhang Qinghe in the sky, but when he looked up, he saw the soles of his cloud-stepping boots - Zhang Qinghe had lowered the height of the rainbow to five or six feet above the ground, not for the sake of being better. Observe Zhang San carefully - both the monk's spirit and eyesight are sufficient.

This is just to make the doll feel at ease. After all, it is the first time, so it has to be gentle.

"Did Sir just throw me down to scare me? Is this class for San'er to practice his courage?"

Zhang San was testing Zhang Qinghe with some vigilance. He knew that Zhang Qinghe's intention was definitely not that simple.

Zhang San seemed to suddenly remember something, and wiped it gently from his forehead, carefully feeling the warm and wet touch just now, and then observed his small hands——

"The red...could it be sir's blood?!"

Zhang Qinghe has done this little trick not once or twice. When he was having a banquet in the Muramasa courtyard and giving him chestnuts, he had a Taoist inscription branded on his forehead to prevent corrosion. Now he has quietly wiped it off. A drop of blood.

"Sir's blood..."

Zhang San swallowed a mouthful of saliva - he remembered Zhang Qinghe's day, hanging a drop on the hook and sending it into the Weishui River, and it exploded into slicks all over the sky, as well as the huge thing, which was so fierce to the blood. The level of thirst is like a mad dog that has lost its mind.

Zhang San looked around, and there were a few thatched huts and dilapidated buildings not far away, as if this was a poorer village than Zhangjiacun. It's already the fourth watch, so it's normal for the village to be dark.

But somehow, Zhang San always feels that there seems to be no popularity in this village.

Wait, not popular? !

As if he had thought of something, the red-faced fairy boy wearing the mask of a sword-wielding spiritual officer, dragging his crimson robes, ran wildly in the snow on his own - his heart was filled with a bad premonition.

Run, must run, must run faster!

The sword-wielding officer's vitality and blood advantage from drinking the Longluozi fish soup in the past few days was now clearly revealed. After a while, he ran straight out of a line in the snow.

"Rustling, rustling..."

The penetrating sound gradually sounded. At first, it was just a "click" sound made by small dots, and then suddenly connected into one, as if something was spreading and chasing in the deep darkness.

A drop of Zhang Qinghe's blood caused the hidden things in this dead village to explode.

"It's an evil spirit... it's a monster!"

Zhang San didn't even look back. He vaguely knew what was behind him, so he worked harder to escape.

"Gulu..."

The sounds of swallowing and roaring kept coming, the sticky stirring sound of something, and the dry friction sound kept getting louder, as if things were getting closer and closer...

Zhang San gritted his teeth and ran away with all his strength, his nose and tears smeared in his mask. His current physical strength was only that of an adult, so how could he outrun the evil spirit?

Is this what you call class? This is clearly my husband's "Battle Royale" in a bad way!