Becoming a fox fairy from Liaozhai

Chapter 209
The voice of the people in the wooden house was very gentle, as if waking up from a nap, with a somewhat lazy tone. It seemed that the people who came were not beasts that disturbed the dream, but birds singing in the morning.

Gong Mengbi's face became slightly solemn, the arrogance and confidence of the person in the room meant that he had extraordinary abilities.

Footsteps sounded, and a middle-aged man in a fancy dress with wide sleeves came out.

If it is said that Gong Mengbi's appearance is the best match among foxes, it is a favorite of good fortune, showing the beauty of foxes, then the middle-aged man in front of him is created by heaven and earth, fully expressing the gentle and connotative temperament of middle-aged people .

Even if he didn't speak, he just stood there and looked at the three of them with a pair of gentle and vicissitudes of eyes, which made it difficult for the three of them to feel bad.

This is an extremely charming and story-telling person, and one cannot help but sit down and drink a pot of wine with him and listen to him talk about the vicissitudes of the past.

This is not an advantage in appearance, but an advantage in temperament and story.

Luo Daochang tremblingly said: "Painting Saint!"

The man looked at Daoist Luo, a little surprised, with a pleasant smile: "You know me?"

Luo Daozhang said: "I have never seen your real face. The saint of painting has painted portraits for others all his life, but he has never had a self-portrait. I only know his story from legends and his charm from ancient books. .You really look like the painting saint described in the book."

But Gong Mengbi shook his head: "You are definitely not a saint of painting. Although I have never met a saint of painting, I just heard his story and know what kind of romantic man he is. Such a thing. Even though you have transformed into his skin, you are definitely not him."

There was a bit of displeasure on the man's face, and he said, "I am a saint of painting. What do you know, I failed to ascend to immortality, and my soul was sheltered in the painting. After waking up, 600 years have passed. My skin is dead, only this The soul has to rely on absorbing other people's souls to maintain it, how ridiculous it is to be a saint of painting."

Gong Mengbi insisted on shaking his head: "You are no longer Xue Daoqing, let alone a saint of painting, you are a demon."

Painting Saint fixedly looked at Gong Mengbi, and said, "Looking at me in such a mess, and seeing Painting Saint go astray, are you very happy, you fox?"

Gong Mengbi said: "What am I so happy about?"

The painting saint opened his arms and said: "I, Xue Daoqing, the dignified painting saint, the reincarnation of a fairy, has been reduced to a monster that haunts the soul, isn't this what you want to see?"

"But even if I have fallen to this point, it is not your turn to laugh at me!"

The painting saint waved his arms, and black shadows flew out of the wooden house, turning into black ghosts and gods and rushing towards them.

Gong Mengbi immediately smelled the fragrance falling on these black shadows, and he couldn't help but confuse him: "I only put incense on one of the shadows, why is every one of them dyed with fragrance, and it's so evenly dyed?"

But soon he got the answer.

The Great Immortal from the North gathered his energy to form a sword, and with one blow he cut the black ghost in front of him in half.

But in an instant, the black ghost and god split into two, and continued to charge towards the Great Immortal to the north.

Great Immortal Beilai shouted: "Fire!"

A raging flame ignited around her, rolling towards the black ghosts and gods like giant snakes and giant tails.

As soon as the light shone, the black ghosts and gods would create water waves, be swept by the flames, and turn into black juice and flow to the ground.

Gong Mengbi suddenly said, "It's Mo!"

It is indeed ink, not only ink, but also ink with spirituality.

Unless it is evaporated by the flames, even if it turns into ink, it will quickly gather and turn into a larger monster.

Gong Mengbi had no time to be distracted, there was already a ghost in front of him that looked like a vicious dog and rushed towards him.

With a twitch from the corner of Gong Mengbi's eyes, he leaped into the wind, and then a slender, transparent long jade knife with only a blade condensed in his hand.

When Gong Mengbi slashed with a knife, it seemed as if a ray of moonlight had passed by, and the vicious dog-like ghost turned into black smoke and evaporated, and the ink that flowed down was wrapped in icy cold air and condensed on the ground.

Seeing that ink can't make meritorious deeds, the painting saint is not in a hurry.

He stretched out his hand, and a picture scroll fell on his hand, "Aren't you going to avenge them? Then come and see them for yourself."

He unfolded the scroll in his hand, revealing the pictures of Baimei.

This is a half-finished picture of all kinds of beauties, each of which is full of tenderness and tenderness, but many of them do not have painted faces, only a vague human figure.

And for those beauties whose faces have been drawn, their eyes are like autumn waters, just like real people.

The saint of painting held up the pictures of Baimei, and the beauties walked out of the portraits.

Daoren Luo glanced at it, his eyes were about to burst, and he said, "Evil devil! Evil devil!"

All the beauties, more than a dozen of them were deceased from Shanyin County.Luo Daochang read the file and recognized their faces, so he would not admit their mistake.

"Painting with a living soul, you will be punished by heaven!"

The painting saint sighed: "The so-called Heavenly Punishment is just a joke. I have done many good deeds in my life, but in the end I still failed to ascend to immortality and just survived. It can be seen that the theory of good and evil is really false."

Daoist Luo wanted to argue again, but he had no time to be distracted.The differentiated ink ghosts fell into the hands of the beauties in Baimeitu, and turned into ink knives, ink swords, ink cables, and ink hammers.

These beauties are painted by living souls, their actions are impermanent, and their contacts are erratic.Like a shadow, gathering and dispersing, he is the top assassin.

A beauty appeared behind Luo Daochang at some point, and with a light touch of the ink dagger in her hand, she was about to stab her to death.

A golden light flashed on Luo Daochang's Taoist robe, and he blocked the dagger.

Luo Daochang's expression changed, he waved his sleeve and hit the beauty.

But the beauty was powerless, she only smiled lightly, and then disappeared into smoke, making Luo Daochang hit empty.

Gong Mengbi sacrificed the small golden stove, and the smoke gushed out like a white fox, engulfing him in it.

A few beauties came to assassinate, and when they stabbed the smoke with a sword, they were held up, making it difficult to penetrate.

The Great Immortal from the North is also at a loss, she is the most profound, but the difficulty lies in not wanting to hurt those living souls, but tied her hands and feet.

The painting sage laughed, and took out another painting. The scroll unfolded, and it was the huge King Ming who was blazing with karmic fire.

With a ferocious face, King Ming held the Dharma seal in one hand and a vajra pestle in the other, jumped out of the painting, and smashed the vajra pestle at the Great Immortal Beilai.

Beilai Daxian's face changed, and he flew up, but was stopped by two beauties setting up an ink net.

She immediately burned the net with flames, and got out of the net. The next moment, when the vajra fell to the ground, she heard the ground tremble and the mountain shake, flying stones rolled, and cracks were smashed out of the mountain.

Gong Mengbi didn't pay attention to the battlefield of Beilai Great Immortal, but looked at Huasheng. While he was distracted, he suddenly turned into smoke and dissipated in place. When he reappeared, he had already slashed at Huasheng's head.

With a flash of moonlight, the painting saint shattered like an afterimage.

　It's not finished, it may be one o'clock.

　
(End of this chapter)