Monk Budu pretended to be stunned, and said to him from left and right: "Master Lu, Niubi, although this city is small, there are quite a few flags, which are quite impressive... er..." Monk Budu's eyes swept to the second floor Standing in the corridor of the private seat, a monk in yellow robes with a wide body and a body like a living Maitreya, immediately raised his hand and shook enthusiastically, "Nephew Wuding—stay safe—"

The smiling Maitreya stopped smiling and silently turned his back.

"Uncle Pastor."

Banshou took a few steps forward and greeted the group of Guigu, which was quite satisfactory.

The folded and drooping Elder Muhe of Guigu stopped slowly, opened his eyelids slowly, and nodded slowly to him.

The Guigu disciples behind Elder Muhe sparsely saluted Banshouzi—As a closed disciple of the Guigu Valley Master, Banshou has to pass the astrolabe. One of the elders. Basically, the disciples of the younger generation have to call him "Little Master Uncle".

However, Guigu advocates seclusion, and throughout the year, the valley is naturally or artificially tossed into a misty appearance all day long. Everyone hid in the fog, hid under the pine trees, and seldom saw each other. This is the first time many people have met with the famous "Tiekou Shenduan" of the sect.

When we met, only felt that this little uncle, compared to the rumors...

"Uncle Pastor, you're here too, that's great." Banshou carried his tattered tattered bamboo hat on his back, wore his tattered Taoist robe with one foot higher and the other lower, with one tattered rattan shoe and one sole. The board was slippery, and he came over in front of everyone's eyes, "Alas, my nephew is unfortunate. I owe this Buddhist son 30,000 taels of gold. Do you have any spare money?"

A group of Guigu disciples, who rarely go out, are sitting on pins and needles under the meaningful gaze from all directions.

This little uncle...

Can you deny it?

The huge White Deer Tower was eerily silent.

"eleven."

Someone broke the silence, and there was a figure in the corridor of the private room on the third floor. The voice was low and the tone was gentle, full of the calmness of the mountain and the wind.

pat.

The folding fan in Lu Jing's hand suddenly fell to the ground.

He bit his head to look up and squeezed out an embarrassed smile: "Ahaha, third brother..."

Yaogu Lujia Saburo Lu Shenchuan looked at him blankly.

Without saying a word, Lu Jing turned his head and ran away.

"Monk!!! Taoist!!! Help ah ah ah ah! Stop me!" Lu Jing shouted hoarsely as he ran.

The whole Xuancheng boiled, and the voices stopped until midnight.

…………………………

The night is dark and the stars are rare.

A long team stopped in the flat wilderness, skillfully preparing to camp for the night.

The seasons of the Twelve Continents are quite different. At this time, the city of Qingzhou has basically entered the miasma. In the west of Yongzhou, which is more inland than Qingzhou, there are still many areas in the foggy moon. During the year, the miasma moon is thick and the soil is thick, and business travel is cut off. Except for the powerful flying boat, it is difficult for ordinary people to travel. Zhaoyue is the most precious day, when the miasma and fog recede and the four fields open. The "fog moon" in the middle is neither good nor bad. During the foggy moon, although the countryside outside the city is not as clear and clear as Zhaoyue, the miasma fog is not as thick as the miasma moon. Under the protection of monks, they can continue to travel between the continents.

The migrating team of merchants in the foggy moon is called "walking the wasteland".

Most of the deserters are migratory refugees and profit-seeking businessmen. The former are poor and cannot afford to pay for the use of the mobile array, while the latter sell goods. As for the flying boat and the mustard bag, those are the sacred objects of the nobles in Xianmen, and they have nothing to do with the common people like ants.

The poor and white refugees and the merchants who sacrificed their lives for wealth gathered together, put together a sum of money, hired a few monks with decent strength, and escorted the team to walk in the wilderness. As long as there are no drastic changes in the seasons, and the Miasma Moon is ahead of schedule, although there are some risks, most of the deserters can still reach their goals without any risk.

"Have a mule, a mule, a mule-"

The merchants banged their wine bags and greeted each other.

The monks who protect the wilderness are busy arranging the formation outside the camp. The men spread out their bags and set up tents skillfully. The women lit bonfires, set up pots, boiled boiling water, and threw in dry food and daylight. Collected wild mushrooms. The storyteller in the famine team used charcoal to teach children to read by the fire. Naughty, secretly smoking a few sticks, you come and go "heroes". "Skin monkey! It's itchy, isn't it?"

The busy adult was almost hit by a branch, half-jokingly, half-lecturingly scolded a few words.

The "Knights" stuck their tongues out and ran back to Mr. Storyteller and sat down. After learning seven or eight characters, a group of little ones pestered the storyteller to tell stories.

"Sir, sir, continue talking about the "Dream Returning Order" last time."

"Yes, yes, after the sixth fold, Qiu Gongzi was besieged from the village, have you escaped?" The half-old girl who was watching the fire couldn't help but interjected and asked.

"Alas!" Mr. Storyteller sighed helplessly, "The last time I passed by Zhoucheng, Mr. Yi Yingchen wrote about the sixth fold, and if there is any news after that, we will have to wait until we reach the next city. , I searched for Mowenfang and found out. What are you asking, I can't tell."

"What is Mowenfang?"

The girl with braids looked at the wild vegetables in the pot and asked in a low voice.

"It's the bookstore opened by Shanhaige, newsbooks, and new jokes, all from there..."

"Why are you calling out there?"

"..."

People shouted.