"This little dragon also has a fiery temper, just like his little uncle. If the mage has some free time, why not find a mortal restaurant tonight and let us have a drink?"
Zhou Yi silently glanced at Pingjiang Jun.
'Don't say goodbye. I don't want to get drunk and accidentally tell the story of killing three of your men. Oh, yes, I'm a monk and cannot drink. Did you do it on purpose?'
"If there is something urgent, Mr. Jun, just leave first." Zhou Yi said calmly.
Mr. Pingjiang smiled slightly without forcing it.
He bowed his hand to Zhou Yi, turned around, walked a few steps, and disappeared.
It wasn't until Lord Pingjiang's breath completely dissipated that Zhou Yi let out a long sigh of relief.
He looked relaxed and carefree, but in fact he was always secretly guarding against the two of them.
Especially Pingjiang Lord, who was a powerful figure in the Lingnan demon world in the past, bewitched the common people and made troubles. Zhou Yi was deeply wary of him, fearing that he would suddenly turn against him.
Although he has sword energy and night horse.
One attack and one escape are rare in the world.
However, I always feel a little uneasy when using it in front of a big monster like Pingjiang-kun.
After all, this was a man who could carry the Earth Immortal Sword and pursue him for three thousand miles without dying.
What's more, once Ye Ma shows up, Lord Pingjiang will definitely guess that he killed three of his subordinates.
By then, it will definitely be a different scene.
As for what he wanted to say to Ao Chen before leaving, he wanted him to try not to publicize the fact that he, the notary, was bald.
"Running so fast... I don't know your dreaming skills, little monk. Even if I choose human arbitration, how can I tell... that the arbitration candidate happens to be in Guangyuan County. Let's meet before I leave."
…
After Zhou Yi explained everything to the bookstore, he also learned that he would have to wait for at least more than a month to get the complete volume of Buddhist scriptures.
After all, this is just a small bookstore. Fortunately, Zhou Yi is not in a hurry.
Just as he was about to leave, the owner of the bookstore accompanying him suddenly said something.
"May I ask, little master, where did you get this Buddhist scripture?"
Zhou Yi whispered the Buddha's name and said with a smile: "Amitabha, why does the donor ask this question?"
The shop owner smiled back: "I always feel that this Buddhist scripture is very different from the Buddhist scriptures I have seen before."
The middle-aged shop owner's words were like stones falling into a cold pool, hitting the surface of Zhou Yi's heart.
Make ripples in circles.
Zhou Yi pretended to be calm and muttered: "I heard that more than twenty years ago, millions of Buddhist scriptures in temples across the world were burned. Where did the donor find other Buddhist scriptures?"
The shop owner glanced around with his peripheral vision, smiled, and said in a low voice: "Young master, you don't know something now. The Buddhist scriptures in the temple were burned, but those believers, especially the lay practitioners who practice at home, they all
There are handwritten manuscripts. Although I was ordered to hand over many of them back then, there are always private collections, and occasionally they will flow into the public."
Zhou Yi was stunned, then laughed at himself.
For such a simple truth, I did not expect that I had indeed made a serious empiricist error.
As the owner said, although there are not many Buddhist scriptures left among the people, there will always be some survivors.
"Amitabha, thank you, Master. If you encounter a handwritten Buddhist scripture again, I hope you can keep it for me. The original and duplicates are acceptable. For me, these are priceless treasures."
Zhou Yi said very politely.
"Easy to say, easy to say."
The shop owner nodded repeatedly, with a trace of expectation on his thin face, and asked: "I wonder where your mansion is? How can I find the young master?"
Zhou Yi looked deeply at the owner.
In an instant, the health-preserving power in the body transformed into the form of a martial arts soul.
Somewhere deep within the body, a dim and fuzzy little person sat cross-legged.
This is Zhou Yi's own soul.
At the same time, Zhou Yi also saw the soul of the owner of the shop opposite.
The soul of a living person is conceived by the condensed essence stored in the internal organs.
In Zhou Yi's view, the soul seems to be a kind of existence that is both real and illusory, real and imaginary.
The souls of ordinary people who have not yet gained the sense of breath are lying, lying down, or curled up, just like babies in amniotic fluid.
For example, the owner of the shop in front of him has his soul in the form of his legs upturned in the sky.
After a moment, a line of small black characters like smoke rose up from the back of the workshop owner Ge Chou.
'Ge Chou, a native of Guangyuan County, came from a well-off family since he was a child, and he was admitted as a scholar...'
A slight smile appeared on Zhou Yi's lips.
...Sure enough, small black letters can also be used in this way.
Since the ghost of the deceased can obtain short-term memory through small black letters.
Then the living soul of a living person can naturally absorb life stories through the small black characters.
The premise is that you must be able to see the other party's soul.
Fortunately, with the help of the fourth wisp of smoke from killing the Wind Lord, he finally raised his health-preserving power to the level of a soul-gazing warrior.
I can see the human soul now.
I can also see his soul.
…
"Little master? What are you thinking about?" Ge Chou waved his hand and asked strangely.
Zhou Yi withdrew his gaze, smiled slightly towards the owner of the workshop, Ge Chou, and clasped his hands together.
"Amitabha, when the master finds the Buddhist scriptures, the young monk will come to the master. The monk has something else to do, so he will leave first."
Experience tells Zhou Yi that any mortal who appears once in small black letters is as if he has been registered by himself.
In the future, every detail, every detail, will appear in the small black letters.
For example, Xu Zhiling, such as the intestinal slave, such as the master and servant from Jiangnan Road.
This is also one of the rules Zhou Yi has summarized over the past two months.
So, from this moment on.
Once the owner of the bookstore, Ge Chou, discovers Buddhist scriptures, he will know about them immediately no matter where he is.
Until Zhou Yi's figure drifted away on the street corner.
Ge Chou still didn't look away.
A young workshop worker's apprentice behind him curled his lips.
"Master, that person has such a loud tone and is so mysterious. Isn't he just a fake monk?"
Another apprentice also underestimated: "Yes, the monk from Bashang County who came last time also sought Buddhist scriptures, but he left his name, hometown and address. He is no more genuine than this fake monk."
Ge Chou looked away and smiled: "Do you think he is a fake monk and that Monk Tian is the real monk?"
The two apprentices looked at each other and then nodded.
"That monk Tian has many followers."
"Yes, every time I come to the county government, I'm always surrounded by people. This should be like the abbot of the Buddhist temple described in the book, right?"
Hearing this, Ge Chou burst into laughter.
He naturally knew that Monk Natian was a rural landowner in the past, but he was too lazy to explain to his apprentices.
As for the young monk who left the Buddhist scriptures just now...the two people who came with him were intimidating and definitely not ordinary people.
I don't know where they came from. They were all dignitaries dressed in white dragon fish clothes, hiding their names, and traveling with this monk.
Whether this monk is real or fake, his identity is not too simple.