After leaving the camp where the monks gathered, Mu Xue and his party walked forward along the Shinto.

As the divine deepens, the world becomes more chaotic and ignorant, and the sky is full of yellow sand, and it is impossible to distinguish the sun and the moon.

The collapsed statues of gods on the roadside gradually stopped appearing, and there were some huge phantoms swimming in the sky, with pale and dull faces and swaying bodies.

One or two wisps of spiritual consciousness left by the ancient gods in the world have been wandering in the divine way for thousands of years, and gradually condensed into such an illusory body.

On the journey, there are occasionally three or five paths of practice or demon cultivator who pass by the road in a hurry.

The monks who can cross the sea of ​​lust are different from those who come to "experience life" outside the Shinto. Most of them are elite disciples with skills in various sects and families. Adventuring into the temple is no longer for the scattered one or two spiritual herbs ore, but have clearer goals.

Therefore, most of these people are in a hurry, with a little alert, and less contact with others.

Mu Xue was digging a stove on a soil slope, preparing to make a new floor pot for supper.

She was feeling a little restless with big and small pieces of soil in her hand.

Miao Honger and Fu Yun, who were still in the foundation-building stage, may not have noticed it, but Mu Xue, whose soul has been condensed, was vaguely aware of it. Along the way, there was a familiar aura that kept falling from afar.

Mu Xue was so familiar with the man's spiritual sense that he could know who it was without having to check it out deliberately.

Why did Xiaoshan follow them? Maybe he happened to be on the same journey, or maybe he just wanted to eat the pot of the ground?

Thinking of her happily eating roasted potatoes with her seniors for a while, Xiaoshan could only stand alone and peek at her from a distance, Mu Xue, who had always been a pampering her apprentice, felt a little uncomfortable.

Is there any way to pretend to find him quietly and then send him a few roasted potatoes.

"Ah, Xiaoxue, you can actually make a pot of pot?" Miao Honger came back to find the ingredients and saw Mu Xue mixing this. She was very interested and rolled up her sleeves to add it. "This thing is very common among the people in the northwest, but it is rare in us. I didn't expect that you would do it at a young age. Come on, and I'll add some ingredients too."

Miao Honger caught a duck from somewhere. After bleeding and removing hair, she flexibly rubbed the duck with both hands. She didn't know how the hand moved, so she opened her mouth on the duck's neck and actually pulled out the entire duck skeleton.

The duck skeleton was pulled out, but the flesh was intact, like an empty pocket. Miao Honger filled it with chestnut, mushrooms, and bamboo shoots. She filled it with fat and fat, then sewed it into the pocket, and added various ingredients to taste. Then wrapped the duck with lotus leaves, sealed it with wet mud, and placed it with Mu Xue's potatoes and potatoes, ready to be roasted in the fire.

Her series of operations are like flowing water, smooth and beautiful, which makes Mu Xue stunned.

The gifts that others carried in the Divine Realm were either life-saving weapons and potions, or goods used to trade and replace. However, this senior sister's backpack was filled with all kinds of dry goods, seasonings and food.

When Xiaoshan was young, Mu Xue also liked to make some delicious food to make her apprentice fatter. But now in front of the craftsmanship of this wonderful chef Miao Honger, she has to give in to the disadvantage.

"This is a floor pot. I haven't eaten it for many years. In the past, my wife often cooked this on the ground." An old voice sounded from a distance.

The voice began to be a distance away from them, and by the time the last word was spoken, the person had arrived.

Mu Xue looked up and saw an old man squatting on a pile of soil not far away, looking at their pot with his eyes shining. The old man's hair and beard were all white, and he described his thinness, short body, wearing a gray earthen cloth dress, carrying a erhu and a bag on his back. He looked like an ordinary old farmer in the countryside.

Of course, there is no ordinary person who can appear deep in the Shinto.

Miao Honger and Fu Yun stood up and kept Mu Xue behind quietly.

"Don't be nervous, little kids. I just want to ask you for some food." The old man squatted on the pile of soil, "I won't eat you for nothing. Are you going to cross the dead road? I'll exchange the road for you."

He took out a small stack of yellow paper from his arms and shook it. It had a round square hole with golden characters printed on it. It was a ghost money used by the mortal world to save the dead.

The ancient god of Dongyue was once the great god in charge of the birth of all things on earth, and unified the ghosts and ghosts. Someone died and the soul returned to the Dongyue. The way of traversing the dead in this way of divine is where the undead transcends and gathers, and no one can get close to it.

If a living person wants to transition to the dead path, he must prepare such "sacrifice" so that he can escape the journey.

Fu Yun and others had also inquired about the situation here before entering Shinto, so they were naturally prepared.

But the old man in ordinary clothes in front of him took out an extraordinary piece of paper money, faintly revealing the golden light of merits blessed by Buddhist monks, which is the most useful in the ghost realm.

Fu Yun knew that he was from an extraordinary background. After thinking about it, he took the yellow paper over and bowed, "Senior, you are polite. But you will definitely serve some food when it is ready."

The old man's face wrinkled with his smile, "Okay, then I'm waiting. My surname is Zhong, you can call me Zhongbo."

Zhongbo unbuttoned the erhu on his back, held it in his arms and turned the strings, and said casually, "It seems that I am not the only one who is attracted by this smell. My friend, why bother sneaking out? Just come out."

Everyone followed Zhongbo's gaze and saw a figure with a cloak slowly walking out of the forest in the distance.

"Brother Cen?" Fu Yun greeted him with a fist, "What a coincidence, why is Brother Dao here?"

Cen Qianshan didn't know how to answer this question, his eyes turned slightly towards Mu Xue. Even he himself didn't understand. Although he was going to follow this path, he didn't know why he was following these people inexplicably.

"Could it be that Brother Dao also wants to go to the Death Road?" Fortunately, Fu Yun gave him a step.

Cen Qianshan finally nodded silently.

Fu Yun had a complicated feeling about this demon cultivator. This person's personality was really sunny. When he was in the sea of ​​desire, he fought against a group of monsters, crossed the sea with a boat, laughing in blood, and Jie Li was arrogant. Now he is so silent and taciturn, gloomy and depressed.

But no matter what, he had saved his life. Out of ethics since childhood, Fu Yun politely tried to keep him for dinner.

The introverted man was silent for a while, and actually walked slowly to the stove and sat down.

The sudden turn fulfilled Mu Xue's wish, which made Mu Xue very happy.

Perhaps because I was excited, my hands were careless.

When Mu Xue knocked on the red soil block tower, the red soil blocks did not collapse into the stove as planned. Instead, a few pieces collapsed and rushed towards Mu Xue.

Before she could dodge, a bandaged arm had appeared in front of her. The hand was extremely fast, turning into several afterimages, blocking the splashing pieces of earth and grabbing them one by one in her hand.

The soil was burning for a long time after the flames were burning red and hot, and thick smoke came out when he got it. However, Cen Qianshan seemed to be unwilling to take it at all. He glanced at Mu Xue, calmly threw the soil back to the stove, and took the stick that hit the soil tower from her.

"I'll do it." He said lightly.

He moved very quickly, as if he was also familiar with this matter. He was even more skillful than Mu Xue. He knocked the red-hot soil tower into the stove after three or two, and quickly covered the stove entrance with sand and soil to seal all the heat, so that the food in the stove could be fully roasted.

While waiting for the food to be cooked, Mu Xue took a can of scalding ointment and sat next to Cen Qianshan.

"Thank you just now, did you burn it?"

She naturally pulled Cen Qianshan's burned right hand, and the bandage on her palm was burned by the carbon fire, and it fell down at this moment, revealing the scarred skin on her arms.

Where did so many crisscrossing scars come from?

Mu Xue frowned,

When his palm was touched, Cen Qianshan subconsciously wanted to withdraw his hand, but his finger was held by a round and short little hand.

"Don't move around, I'll apply some medicine to you." The six-year-old young man said, holding his hand.

She lowered her head intently, and from Cen Qianshan's perspective, she could only see two black buns above her head.

A little cold touch covered the burned skin on his palm. The little fingertips were dipped in cold plaster and rubbed his palms back and forth, with a little itch.

She held her hand and applied medicine, then blew it gently on it. The cold air blew into the palm of her hand, blew away the scorching pain and blew into a memory of the past.

At that time, Cen Qianshan had just become a disciple of his master, so he climbed onto the shelves to get a small jar of Fire Dragon Blood.

In the past, he was always serious in his work and never made any mistakes. Just once, for some reason, he slipped his hand and watched the precious pot of pot of medicine fall down from the air.

He rushed over with all his strength, trying to catch the fallen jar, but unfortunately the bottle still rubbed against the tip of his fingers and fell to the ground. With a bang, he fell to pieces and the red solution splashed his hand.

The blood of the Fire Dragon is strongly corrosive. It splashes on the hands and makes the skin burn and smoke rise, making it painful.

But at this time he could no longer care about his own hands. He knew clearly how much energy his master had spent to buy this bottle of Fire Dragon Blood and how many times he had traveled to the street.

This little bit of dragon blood is enough to buy several children like him.

He lay desperately on the ground, trying to collect the remaining little dragon blood.

"What are you doing?" The master's angry rebuke came from the door.

Cen Qianshan shivered for a moment. He made the same mistake when he was young. At that time, his adoptive father took off his clothes and whipped him with a whip for three days.

The master stepped in, lifted him up from the ground, placed him on the operating table, grabbed his hand, and turned his palm over.

He thought he would be beaten up, but only the cold liquid washed away the scorching pain in his palms. The master also frowned like this, applying medicine to himself while blowing breathing gently on the wound.

"Why are you so stupid? The dragon blood falls off and you're so stupid that you can use your hands to catch it."

After waiting for a long time, Cen Qianshan, who had not waited for a little punishment, stuttered and asked: "No... won't you hit me?"

"Want, why don't you?" Master looked up at him angrily, then lowered his head to treat his wound, "I must beat him hard, spank him, I owe him first, I remember it."

The things I owe in this way are accumulated more and more, and after years of owing them, there is no chance of repaying them.

Later, he went to the wilderness to hunt. After hunting the dragon and blood phoenix feathers, he ran back and gave them to his master.

Then he was next to his master, and used his little wounds on his body to act coquettishly with his master, waiting for his master to apply medicine and blow on himself, and the sweetness of being pampered in his heart was secretly flooded with.

The cold breath was still blowing in the palm of his hand. Cen Qianshan woke up from the memories and pulled back his palm.

The child's fair fingers loosened, and the warm touch was still stuck on his skin. Strangely, it did not make him feel disgusted.

Because of the shadow left by his adoptive father in childhood, Cen Qianshan hates having physical contact with others.

This is probably a rare person except Master who does not make him feel uncomfortable when he touches himself.

Perhaps it was because she was still a child, Cen Qianshan thought so.

The roasted eight-treasure duck and potatoes were pulled out of the earthen stove.

The tender and juicy boneless duck meat is paired with crispy mountain delicacies such as mushrooms, chestnuts, winter bamboo shoots, etc. There are also the potatoes that are steamed when they are broken apart, and they are whispered in their hands. The evening meal under the setting sun made everyone praise it.

Mu Xue is the youngest and is busy serving food to everyone.

"The little kids are very skilled, almost the same as my old wife back then." Zhong Bo, who used the money to get a meal with his mother, praised him without any worries.

"Uncle Zhong, is your mother-in-law really that skillful? Can she be even better than my senior sister?" Mu Xue added a portion of crispy potatoes and duck breast to him.

Zhongbo's smile under his white beard gradually became bitter, "When my old woman was still alive, I didn't think she was delicious. At that time, I was only focused on the great way, and I didn't care much about the love between men and women and husband and wife."

"Ah, I'm so sorry." Mu Xue didn't expect that the smiling old man's wife was no longer alive.
To be continued...