It's night.

Small building in the east fence, north house.

A candle.

Snap. Light up half of the house.

In the middle of the house, there is a specially vacant open space.

A scholar in blue shirt closed his eyes and walked on the stump.

Five-style boxing stance.

Fist in the sleeves, flowing clouds and water, and the hardness and softness are used.

Zhao Rong, who closed his eyes, felt that his condition was very strange at the moment.

It was like consciousness was separated, and he was looking down on the ground in mid-air, as if he was in a dream.

Moreover, Zhao Rong clearly felt it.

It’s not that the fist follows him, but that he follows him.

Everyone gets it all naturally.

After millions of times of walking, it seems that it has become Zhao Rong's instinct.

In the words of his previous life, he was already proficient in this set of boxing, and this set of boxing was deeply engraved in his bones.

Just like his calligraphy, there is no need to deliberately put on the pen and paper, horizontal scales, vertical strokes, etc., and press and pull the turning and turning, and it will naturally appear on the paper.

And Zhao Rong remembers it deeply.

Half a year ago, on the way north, next to the fire at the foot of the green mountain one month night, Liu Sanbian told him softly that this was called the boxing spirit.

This is the realm that countless warriors at the foot of the mountain have always dreamed of.

At that time, Liu Sanbian pulled out a gloomy and terrifying gentle smile at the corner of his mouth.

If Brother Zhao can walk through the stance and get out of the boxing intention, he will have the talent of a master of martial arts. At that time, I will give me another set of boxing techniques.

But when he spoke later, his smile gradually stopped.

It should be, I think I may not be able to wait for this day.

At this time, Zhao Rong, who was closing his eyes and walking on the stump, pursing his lips, his thoughts were about to change...

Just the next second.

He suddenly stabbed the sword furnace.

The room suddenly became dark, filled with dead night, without any light, only a pair of bright and firm eyes as bright as stars.

It turned out that Zhao Rong had just pointed out the candlelight on the table in the distance.

The upper body of the boxing intention was naturally stalked, and it was half a beat faster than his thoughts.

Zhao Rong suddenly took a breath.

In addition to the mysterious fist intention that flowed all over his body, and the last moment of stance that broke through the sixth eight extraordinary meridians and the eight meridians of the sixth.

And because at this moment, he was sweating and his clothes were soaked.

It happened to be the brief period of weakness of the fire dragon in the body after the success of the Chong meridian, and the body was also very weak. On this late autumn night, the cool breeze hit the body, which tastes...

However, Zhao Rong couldn't help but curl up.

Finally, one lineage was broken and closer to Fuyao Realm.

He jumped on the spot twice, flexing his muscles and bones, then lit the light again, then went to the bathtub and took a bath with hot water.

About half an hour.

Zhao Rong, who had cleaned up some time, walked towards the desk in the autumn clothes that Qingjun had washed for him, and prepared to light the lamp and read at night.

He shook his eyelids and breathed a sigh of relief. After passing the bed in the house, he walked a few steps, but his body paused slightly.

Zhao Rongjing stood up for a moment and thought for a while.

The next second, he slammed and walked towards the bed, giving up the idea of ​​continuing to read at night.

As Qingjun said, it’s time to take a rest.

Zhao Rong fell straight on the quilt that had been dried and laid by Concubine Zhao Ling himself.

It seems to be her and the sunshine.

Someone sniffed a few deep sips.

"Qingjun...Qingjun...Little..."

Zhao Rong muttered, his eyelids gradually drooped.

The night is quiet.

...

Zhao Rong had a dream.

Still a lucid dream.

He was awake and remembered everything before his dream.

Zhao Rong looked around and looked around.

Surprised.

This dream is not colorful, but it can be said to be bizarre.

Because everything around is actually black and white.

In the field of vision.

Except for outlining the dark lines of the scenery, objects, and people, the others are all white, like a brand new piece of white paper.

Zhao Rong's thoughts changed.

Isn’t this a landscape painting?

Zhuiwen ZhuiWu. Well, or rather, he is now in a small dream world like a landscape painting.

There are only two elements that are distinctly contrasting and extremely simple.

And this black and white is also of particularity.

The thick and lightness of the ink.

The shallow and deep white space.

Deeper dimensions are formed, such as vision, size, such as... movement and stillness.

Zhao Rong laughed.

Interestingly, it actually follows the composition of landscape ink paintings. This dream is interesting.

At this moment, he looked down at his body.

无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无无

Without exception, Zhao Rong at this time is also an element that constitutes this strange world of landscape and ink.

Just like the little man under the brush when he was in his painting art class, the burly painting art master was painting.

Zhao Rong immediately wanted to find a mirror to see how he looked now.

However, I soon discovered that even the lake water was left blank in landscape paintings, so how could he look like?

Zhao Rong was still a little novel. After coughing twice, he started to touch himself.

Fortunately, everything that should be there seems to be there, but it seems to be a little smaller.

Well, it's just touching your face.

The nose, eyes, and mouth have all become smaller.

Zhao Rong studied it for a while and suddenly realized that he seemed to have changed back to the appearance of a child when he was eight or nine years old.

I said why it got smaller...

At the same time, because of landscape ink painting.

Touch, vision, taste, smell, etc. seem to have been redefined, which is a different experience and taste.

Zhao Rong studied it for a while and stopped caring about these miscellaneous things.

I finally had an interesting lucid dream. I had come and I didn’t care about it, and I was done with it.

He explored novelly in this strange dream world.

Zhao Rong likes lucid dreams very much because based on his past experience, he can really do whatever he wants in dreams.

At this moment, Zhao Rong looked around.

I found him by the river.
To be continued...