Immortal Road of the Dharma Idol Chapter 1300: 　Human Yeyao, Dasheng Kunpeng (Part 2)

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Chapter One Three Thousand and Thousand People Yeyaoye, Dasheng Kunpeng (Part 2)

Low hut, dirty alley, a strange old man, and dozens of dirty children gathered around him, attracted Zhang Fan's attention.

The old man was unkempt, and his hair was pale and I hadn’t cleaned it for many years. They were tangled together, like hemp rope in the mud. His face was covered with wrinkles, like a deep gully cracked in the yellow earth, which was filled with dirt, and looked hazy and fuzzy, with no appearance at all.

The old man’s clothes and body are completely invisible, because he was curled up in a half-height urn with only his head and two arms exposed.

The unusual behavior of sitting in a trap is enough to attract people’s attention, not to mention what the old man is doing at this time.

The two thin arms that he stretched out were squeezing a piece of clay from the clay piled up by the urn, and kneading it in his hands into a clay sculpture.

The children gathered around the eyes looked at these slowly formed clay sculptures.

Zhang Fan's gaze turned, and it quickly settled on those clay sculptures. These clay sculptures are not humanoid, but a strangely shaped beast.

"This is..."

The children may just be busy and ask for fun. They don’t understand what these clay sculptures are, but they fall into the eyes of Zhang Fan.

"Kirin, Shirasawa, Qilong, Qiongqi, Suzaku, primordial chaos, Taotie, Xiezhi..."

one by one recognized that the names of the storms that had been raised in the ancient times were spit out from the mouth of Zhang Fan. Most of them are the bodies of the ancient demon gods. Too bad is also the first-rate Swire divine beast.

It is not difficult for Zhang Fan to recognize these Swire monster beast powerful monster beast. The old man in the urn does not imagine kneading. The knitting of these Swire monster beast all carries an innate charm, and it looks like the time has turned back to Swire. , I saw them turned upside down.

In this way, it’s as if the Zhang Fan and the Peacock Paddle Wheeler were juggling when they were juggling, or even even, at least from these clay sculptures, the old man Wengzhong’s insight into these Taikoo monster beast is far from Zhang Fan. On the understanding of the ancient demon kings.

When Zhang Fan was meditating, the children did not make any noise, suppressing the longings in their hearts, quietly looks at plastic clay of the old man in the urn until the old man let out a long breath in the urn, only stopped when the hand came, simultaneously Cheers rang out and swarmed to grab one in each hand.

"Seventy-one..."

Before being robbed by those children, Zhang Fan glanced at the clay sculptures, and the number of them suddenly flashed a different color in his eyes.

"It really is you, Kunpeng Dasheng"

Zhang Fan sighed deeply in her heart, not knowing what it was like for a while.

Put the Taikoo monster beast into seventy one, one less than the number of the ground evil, and one of them is the big demon Kunpeng. If you don’t understand this person, it is Kunpeng, one of the seventy-two Spirit Transformation of the ancient Dharma Idol Sect. Great Sheng, that's really eye-catching.

The children who surrounded the old people in the urn, not at all dispersed after they snatched the clay sculpture, but they have been used to it, and they have been lined up one by one, grabbing the grabbed clay sculpture and walking to the urn In front of the old man.

The old man in the urn kept moving his hands and made a collar-like thing with the straw rope placed next to the urn. He put the clay sculpture on it and hung it on the necks of the children. Tao: "Do not forget to hang baby, find grandpa to ask if it is broken."

Every child, the old man in the urn carefully clanged once. The same words were repeated seventy-one times, but he didn’t feel bored, and he still spoke meticulously.

These children grew up in slums, and they were better cared for by their parents. They were almost a young age and had to make a living. Most of them didn’t have much education. I don't know if the old man's ding in the urn is in his ears.

Even so, the old man in the urn still tirelessly cried and smiled kindly, watching the children happily playing with the clay sculptures on their necks, and ran away to play.

His kind smile never changes when facing children. Only once an adult finds his own child, his face sinks at once, like the haze before the rain, let the original Adults who still want to say hello will swallow it if they are about to come to the mouth and talk back.

But for a while skill, as the children dissipated contentedly, there was a little congestion in the alley, but there was nothing but Weng Zhongfei and Zhang Fan.

At this time, the old man in the urn seemed to be unaware of the existence of Zhang Fan. The whole person relaxed and leaned against the wall of the urn obliquely, raising his head and looking at the sky without focus.

Because of the enchantment, the ancient city is hazy all year round, that is, the short time when the sky is heaven and earth, the thin sunlight barely penetrates through the enchantment and spills into the ancient city.

The place where the old man in the urn is located is not a random choice. It is the place where there is no shelter on the left and right of the nearby alley, where you can fully enjoy the sun.

The old man in the urn may be too tired, closing his eyes weakly, arms folded over the mouth of the urn, and so basking in the sun in the sky, he seems to be in a deep sleep, motionless.

Slightly, a shadow suddenly enveloped the old man in the urn together with the big urn under him. The already thin sunlight was completely blocked.

The shadow cast on the ground and climbed up the wall of the ugly alley, like an elongated human.

The old man in the urn frowned, slightly opened his dirty eyelids, glanced at it, then closed again weakly, and said vaguely, "No... don’t block my sunshine..."

The voice is blurry and weak, and the ears are slightly worse, I am afraid that I can only mumble and not hear it.

"How can the Dapeng King Dang become the old man in the urn?"

With a sigh, Zhang Fan's voice echoed in the ugly alley, and he himself stood in front of the old man in the urn.

Standing here, there is a stench, like a pile of fertilizer, and like something is rotting, people can't help but want to hide their noses and run away.

Before those children, if they had not grown up in civilian settlements since they were young, they have long been accustomed to being dirty and adapted to the stench. I am afraid it is difficult to bear the smell and wait for the clay sculpture.

Regarding this, the look of Zhang Fan hasn't changed at all, but it's just faintly, and the movement of the old man in the urn is condensed by his words.

For a long time, the eyelids of the old man in the urn fluttered and returned to peace, and only a weak voice came from the trembling lips: "There is no Dapeng king sparrow here, only the old man in the urn. Obstruct me from the sun."

Zhang Fan hearing this shook his head and pointedly said, "It's not me who blocks your sunlight and prevents you from sunbathing."

The voice did not fall, and with a "boom" sound, a huge gap broke out in the demon cloud cave above, and the sun that had not been able to enter through it for a long time was swaying down, and the old man in the urn was dyed all over. Golden.

"Ah~"

Without warning, the old man in the urn screamed while the sun was coming, and there was a trace of white gas around him, as if he had been cooked by the hot sun all at once.

"It turns out that you are already out of the sun."

"But if you eat a lot of people, you can't get rid of it, you can't get rid of it? Doesn't the injustice and entanglement?"

Zhang Fan shook his head and continued with a little pity: "If the heart thinks that everything is correct, the anger will naturally disappear, and the injustice will disappear immediately. There are many beasts eating people, monster beast is scourge, and the demon king is raging. In the world, I have never seen them afraid of the sun."

"Dapeng King, why do you have contradictions in your heart, both right and wrong, and why do you do it?"

Zhang Fan's words and sentences, accompanied by the scorching sun, are like sharp knives, slaughtered in the heart of the old man in the urn. He finally couldn't bear it and roared loudly:

"Shut up"

At the same time, the old man in Weng suddenly looked up and looked directly at Zhang Fan. When he roared and looked up, the sky was surging, and it gathered into a dark cloud, covering the cracked gap tightly.

As the demon's energy diffused, the old man in the urn also had a hint of black gas on his body, and his suddenly opened eyes were even more red, if there was a sea of ​​blood tumbling in it.

The big urn trembles violently, and the old man in the urn seems to swell in the urn, which may be propped up at any time, and the faint bloodthirsty breath permeates in the alley, gradually becoming thicker.

"What could be wrong about this Zhang? King Dapeng, you might as well point it out."

Zhang Fan was unimpressed, and still said lightly, listening to the ears of the old man in the urn, but it was tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

"I let you shut up"

The voice of the old man in the urn suddenly became sharp, as if the eagle struck the sky and the harshness of the storm.

His eyes were bloodied more and more, facing Zhang Fan, who was unacceptable, and he could not help climbing, and he filled the alley with a rich demon spirit.

Just at this moment, a tender voice came from outside the alley with a crying tone:

"Grandpa...Hoooo...Grandpa..."

Along with this sound, there was also a "thump" sound, and I heard a little person crying and rushing to the ears, and at the moment I didn't notice the scene of falling to the ground.

"...Grandpa~"

The heavier the cry, the more the voice has reached the alley.

"I..."

The old man in the urn opened his mouth, but no voice came. The fierce anger that he wanted to choose was condensed, and he receded like a tide.

He looked at the alleyway, then at Zhang Fan, a thin and dark arm raised and lowered, seemingly hesitant.

Zhang Fan shook his head when he saw it, sighed, took two steps back, and said nothing.

The old man in Weng was delighted, nodded at him, and then said to the outside of the alley: "Waer be careful, be slow."

The voice is gentle and kind, and the concerns are more than words.

While speaking, the enchantment of the alley was swallowed like a whale, and he cleaned it in one breath. When the crying child flew into the alley, the surroundings had recovered their original appearance.

"Grandpa...Look...oooo~"

He was a six-to-seven-year-old boy, and regardless of his broken knee, he spread his little black hands in front of the old man in Wengzhong.

In his hand, it was a broken clay sculpture with fresh hemp rope hanging on it.

"Waer Mo cry, Grandpa will give you a better one, Mo cry."

As the old man in the urn coaxed the child, he squeezed clay into a clay sculpture, which was more delicate than the previous ones, put on hemp rope and hung it on the child's neck.

The child’s face was that April day, and the weather was changing rapidly, hanging with the new clay sculpture, playing with it admirably, and the little face that was still in tears and exchanged immediately covered with a smile.

"Thank you grandpa."

The child thanked him politely and happily jumped away. The pain from the previous fall seemed to be gone. He quickly ran out of the alley to show off to the friends.

looks at His simple joy, clear smile, the face of the old man in the urn also bloomed like a chrysanthemum, full of smiles, even a little innocent.

After a while, he turned his head and nodded at Zhang Fan and said, "Thank you"

"No." Zhang Fan shook his head and said, "Dapeng King, why bother you and eat your children?"

"Children are humans, are they inhumane?"

He said, he took a step forward and stood in front of the old man in the urn again, his palms spread out, and there was a broken clay sculpture lying in his palm, which was left by the child before.

In the eyes of those children, this clay sculpture may just be a fun toy, but it falls into the hands of Zhang Fan, but there is a touch of golden light flashing.

At the core of Jinguang, at the very center of the clay sculpture, there is a small drop of golden blood residue. The breath on it is strong, and it seems to be taken from the blood of some powerful monster beast-to be precise, the blood of Golden-winged Dapeng .

With this small drop of gold-winged Dapeng blood, and then reminiscent of the old men and women in the urn who told the children, Zhang Fan just wanted to understand.

"Since you protect these children from devouring by this method, why not just eat people?"

"I have swallowed a thousand people, why do I pretend to be compassionate?"

The Zhang Fan sentence is pressing, but the old man in the urn didn't hear it, nor did he feel as if he were so angry, just muttered "Thank you", and then the whole person slowly curled up.

As if he had forgotten the existence of Zhang Fan, he shivered tremblingly, put it in the urn with one hand, and took the wooden board picked up from the ground with the other hand, he would cover the urn.

It is conceivable that when the clay sculptures are not pinched, this old man must have lived in the urn.

"Isn't you excited anymore?" Zhang Fan frowned slightly, and then his face sank, shouting: "Kunpeng Dasheng"

"Kunpeng...Dasheng...Kunpeng...Dasheng..."

The sound shakes the alley, and there is thatch from the hut near to the left~IndoMTL.com~ There is dust rising from the ground, but there is an invisible gas field that covers the place where the old man in the urn is.

Zhang Fan shouted loudly, pointing out the origin of the old man in the urn, as if to make everything solid.

"You... who are you?"

The plank was unable to slip, and the old man in the urn leaned out his head again, staring at Zhang Fan and trembling: "Who the **** are you? The old gang called Huazi outside? Or..."

What else, he couldn't speak, his voice was trembling, seeming to be filled with infinite fear.

"Who am I?"

Zhang Fan shook his head, looking at the old man in the urn as if he had foreseen a big horror. His eyes could not help but bring out a bit of pity. The scene of how he treated the children flashed in his mind before, a trace of doubt Unsolvable:

"Human, demon?"

This Kunpeng great holy man is a human being or a demon. How did he fall into a trapped urn? All kinds of doubts fall into the body.