At this moment, everyone was stunned. They did not expect that the woman in jade clothes actually slapped the young man and flew him into the lake.
The moment the tearing sound appeared, the middle-aged scribe broke away from the beauty. Thinking of the previous state, he felt ashamed.
He is the same generation as the master of Miaoxiu Square and Aunt Gongsun. Although the woman in jade clothes calls him Mr. Yan, according to the seniority, he can be said to be the elder of the woman in jade clothes.
As an elder, I almost fell in love with the younger generation.
This is really a sin. Although Aunt Gongsun has seven disciples in her sect, her favorite is this extremely intelligent little disciple. And this little disciple is this woman in jade.
And this woman in jade clothes is talented and intelligent, and has the talent to outdo others.
Today's swordsmanship is comparable to that of Gongsun Auntie. Even if she is not as good as her, the gap will not be too big, but very small.
For Aunt Gongsun, Zhou Youluo is the heir to her legacy, and she can be regarded as her biological daughter.
If Aunt Gongsun were to know his previous intentions, even if he was an old friend of Aunt Gongsun for many years, she would definitely chase him thousands of miles away with a sword.
This is too scary. Even though they are both saints and one of the Four Holy Saints, in terms of prestige, he is not as good as the Literary Saint, and in terms of force, he is not as good as the Sword Saint. Even his martial arts strength is extremely strong and he can be called a grandmaster.
"As a saint, my heart, which has been settled for many years, is actually shaken in front of a junior."
Today, the middle-aged scribe has felt so ashamed many times that he wishes he could hide somewhere. If the other three old friends knew about it, wouldn't he laugh so hard that he would lose his teeth?
The middle-aged scribe took a deep breath, and then another deep breath, and was about to calm down. Suddenly, butterflies danced around him, falling in pairs.
This is autumn, how can there be butterflies?
He blinked, and there was still blue sky and white clouds in the sky. There was no longer the glazed color, the undulating mountains, nor the lush greenery. Those were all gone.
There was a shattering sound before, and then, all the mountains and rivers disappeared. Could it be that the vision of heaven and earth did not disappear, but manifested in another situation.
After the spring curtain, is the summer scene?
The middle-aged scribe thought too much. The world in the painting was no longer there, completely dissipated. It was just a flash in the pan.
When a pair of butterflies flew down from the corners of his eyes, the middle-aged scribe's eyes suddenly shrank.
He actually saw a corner of the landscape on the pair of butterflies.
"This...is not...a butterfly..." The middle-aged scribe's pupils shrank again, almost like the eyes of a needle in an instant.
He finally saw clearly that it was not a butterfly, but scraps of paper. The corner of the landscape looked familiar.
"This...this...this..."
Just when the scraps of paper were about to fall to the ground, the middle-aged scribe saw other scraps of paper. When he saw the paintings on the scraps of paper, his body started to tremble, and the trembling became more and more violent.
The paintings on every scrap of paper are familiar. These fragments are composed in memory, and they suddenly form that painting. That painting represents the world in the visionary painting of heaven and earth."
"Why is this... painting... broken?" The middle-aged scribe was so immersed in the beauty of the woman wearing stars and moons that he didn't realize that the woman in jade had slapped the young man to pieces.
This could be a divine painting, containing the stroke he was missing. If this painting appeared in front of the world, it would be enough to cause a sensation and shock the past and present. The young man's name would be immortalized for generations to come. This painting,
It will definitely be passed down through the ages.
Become a lifelong admirer of painters!
However, the painting was broken. The middle-aged scribe didn't even have time to look at it and find some insights from it.
"I tore it apart."
Suddenly, the middle-aged scribe heard a cold voice coming from the side, carrying an extremely cold sword energy and killing intent.
The middle-aged scribe quickly turned his head to look, and immediately closed his eyes. The redness that had not faded turned red again.
Just because he saw the woman's face was red, her black hair seemed to be soaked by the rain, and white mist was rising around her. He used the sword energy to disperse the wetness on her body, but her fair skin was still visible. But the key parts were still covered in white.
Covered by fog.
"Miss Zhou...this..." the middle-aged scribe turned his head, not fully reacting yet. He still didn't know what happened.
"Where did that young master go?"
The middle-aged scribe looked around, but did not find the young man. Instead, he saw the eyes of those around him widened, as if they were lost in thought.
Not only the middle-aged scribes, but also they didn't realize what was going on. They only saw this beautiful woman who was as beautiful as a fairy suddenly took action and slapped the handsome young man into the lake.
"The thief was already shot into the lake by me."
Just when the middle-aged scribe was confused, Zhou Youluo's cold voice fell on his ears again.
"Thieves? Flying into the lake?" The middle-aged scribe was still confused.
"Wait a minute...Miss Zhou, you mean...you photographed me in the lake?"
The dignified painting saint's face suddenly changed and he became panicked. It was autumn, and the lake was very cold. If the young man fell into the river and drowned, it would be an unbearable loss for the painting and calligraphy community.
"That thief will not die so easily, but once he gets on the ship, he will die in my hands, Zhou Youluo. And it is not a pity to die for such a thief."
"This...this...this...Miss Zhou, I don't know why you want to kill this young master...His attainments in painting are further ahead than those of Yan."
"This person has taken a step beyond Yan's reach in this life. I'm afraid no one can reach his level. If we kill him, it will be an unbearable loss for the world of calligraphy and painting. I hope you will show mercy."
The middle-aged scribe did not turn his head, his face looked a little ugly.
He was so engrossed in the woman's beauty that he didn't notice what happened before. After he saw Zhou Youluo's body soaked, he guessed the reason after a moment's thought.
The night sky is actually the wild geese spreading out, covering the sky. The sound of the branches swaying is the wind blowing the scroll, and the starlight is the falling water spray. The stars holding the moon are just the water spray falling around them.
On Youluo's body.
But he could only pretend to be confused and say that he didn't know about it. Only in this way would he not appear embarrassed.
"No one can reach his level?" Zhou Youluo smiled faintly and said: "This traitor's painting is indeed somewhat subtle, but it is only a little subtle. Youluo has already said that this person is not as good as him, so why come here?
Do you want to do whatever you want to do?"
"He?" The middle-aged scribe was startled when he heard this.
The middle-aged scribe naturally knew who Zhou Youluo was talking about. He was the master who taught her the art of swordsmanship.
If a man's sword can reach the sky, can the way of painting also reach the sky? This is incredible.
Who is that master named Chu?
"Miss Zhou, you are joking. That person's swordsmanship is extremely profound, surpassing that of Gongsun Gongsun. This is incredible. How could he be equally knowledgeable in other fields?" The middle-aged scribe shook his head, expressing his disbelief.
Feeling suspicious.
There are geniuses in this world, but there is no perfect person. Once you are deeply involved in one field, there is no possibility of being equally deep in another field.
Maybe quite accomplished, but not to the same level.
"The man you mentioned must be transcendent in the way of swordsmanship. But in the way of painting, he cannot compare to this young master."
"Mr. Yan is sitting in the well and looking at the sky." Zhou Youluo's face suddenly turned cold.
Feeling the coldness, the middle-aged scribe's expression suddenly changed. He actually felt the chill in the coldness. It was actually murderous intent!
The middle-aged scribe's face was very ugly, and his words about sitting in a well and looking at the sky showed no mercy.
Although the middle-aged scribe is indeed called Zhou Youluo's elder, such an elder only has a slight relationship and a slight friendship.
But despite this, as Zhou Youluo is a junior, even if his martial arts strength is stronger than him, he still has to give him some face.
Zhou Youluo had always been like this before, but now she showed coldness towards him. Although this murderous intention was not directed at him, it still made him feel heartbroken.
"Mr. Yan, thanks to the guidance of that young master, You Luo, I am now able to attain the level of swordsmanship I have today."
"It is said that a teacher for a day is a teacher for a lifetime. As for Youluo, there is no room for others to be disrespectful to his teacher. Moreover, Youluo also witnessed the painting of that young master with his own eyes, which is far superior to that of this traitor."
The middle-aged scribe was stunned for a moment because he was heartbroken. A junior with whom he had a very good relationship almost broke up with him because of a man.
But it makes sense when you think about it, once a teacher, always a father. Zhou Youluo's words make sense.
"Is there... is there really someone in this world with such extraordinary attainments in painting?" The middle-aged scribe frowned, but couldn't help but turn his head and glance at the woman whose clothes were all dry, and saw that cold face.
"Looking at how serious she looks, maybe it's true." The middle-aged scribe nodded secretly, thinking that with Zhou Youluo's status, he wouldn't be able to lie.
At this moment, Ling Dabao was like a drowned dog and had to be yelled at and beaten.
He felt the murderous intention, and his expression suddenly changed. He thought that if he followed the true path, he might not get any benefit from this woman.
"Damn it, I am so handsome and handsome, but you are indifferent to me? And you said that your painting skills are better than mine? My painting skills, even my senior brother, can't compare with mine." Ling Dabao shook his head.
Although I have never seen my elder brother paint, there is no need to think about it. He is not as good as him. Otherwise, why didn't he show it to him in the early years?
"That's nonsense. I, Ling Dabao, want to see who is better at painting than me!"
"I would also like to see if there is a giant Buddha like Senior Brother sitting in this world, whose sword skills are better than his!" Ling Dabao sneered repeatedly. Then he dived into the deep water, not daring to show his face.
Zhou Youluo didn't know, nor did Ling Dabao, where the person they mentioned was.
Where? Where? The surrounding fields are vast, and in the blink of an eye, a cold wind stirs up on the ground. A whirlwind blows from bottom to top in the open space, carrying the autumn leaves as if they are shaking the ground.
There was a man standing on a high mountain, looking ahead.
There, there is a city.
This man was elegant and handsome, wearing a white robe, with a full head of black hair tied behind his back. His eyes showed confusion and complexity, and he looked at the high city wall. It seemed that he had seen someone dressed in red standing on the city wall.