Becoming a Saint by Leisure Reading

The bustling capital of China has never been so quiet.

This sudden news shocked everyone.

Even those who were too busy to pay attention to Lin Huanglei heard the sound of the phantom of the formation that could be seen everywhere.

The coolie unloaded the heavy goods on his body, and the hawkers walking on the streets stopped their hasty footsteps;

The merchant stopped shouting, and the craftsman stopped his work;

There is a woman holding a child in her arms, her eyes full of hope;

A down-and-out man clenched his fists with tears in his eyes;

Lying on the ground in the street style, unaware of the boulder on the chest;

The ragged beggars nest by the wall, and the food in their hands suddenly tastes bad;

The young child stopped fighting, the old woman stopped nagging;

The breeze blew through the leaves, and the rustling became the only sound in Zhongjing.

In this silence, there is a force condensing.

This kind of power makes people always uplifted, always smiling, and always moving forward.

This power is called—

hope!

...

Dongque Plaza.

Whether it was the demon clan, the dignitaries, or the great Confucianism present, they all looked at Chen Luo with burning eyes.

The political minister's eyes narrowed slightly, not knowing what he was thinking at the moment; the law minister looked at Chen Luo seriously for the first time, and his eyes were full of interest.

On the high platform, Ye Heng swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

Finally, the Nine-Five Supreme of the Great Xuan Dynasty broke the silence.

"Chen Aiqing, are you saying that you can let ordinary people embark on the path of cultivation?"

Chen Luo stretched out his hand, and a stream of red dust condensed in his hand.

That mass of red dust flickered colorfully and looked extremely bright, like a fire, attracting everyone's attention.

"Happiness, anger, worry, thinking, sadness, fear, and shock are the seven emotions of human beings."

"The world is full of emotions, the world is hot and cold, and it's all in the seven emotions."

"This colorful air, I call it the red dust air."

"Understand the seven emotions in the book and enter the world of the world."

"Everyone can walk this way!"

"Before today, Confucian scholars, Taoists, monks..."

"After today, there will be one more person on the way to practice."

"Wufu!"

...

"Mother..." At the door of Yuewei Thatched Cottage, a woman in her thirties held a child of five or six years old, staring blankly at the image in the air.

Just a quarter of an hour ago, she brought her child to pay homage to Mr.

Zhao Yang is a widow. A few years ago, her husband went to the north with her classmate. Three months later, her husband's classmate broke a leg and brought her a tattered Confucian robe full of blood.

Zhao Yang knew the robe, which her husband sewed stitch by stitch before he left.

That classmate was just trying to get the robe back, but his leg was broken.

"The body wasn't taken back, anyway, there is a place to worship." After the classmate with the broken leg said this, she set foot on the road to the north again. Since then, she has never seen each other again.

Zhao Yang dug the grave, put the **** half of the Confucian robe in it, and laid himself in the grave.

She didn't want to get up, just died like this.

However, she found out that she was pregnant!

She is going to live!

With painstaking efforts to give birth to the child, he has grown to the age he is now.

Zhao Yangshi didn't want his child to be mediocre, but he was worried that the child would follow his father's path.

But I didn't expect that the child was talented and intelligent, and the little man secretly taught himself Yawen.

Much like a father.

She cried secretly at home all night, and the next day Zhao Yang took her child to find her former husband's enlightenment teacher.

But after some tests, the child did not awaken the talent of reading through.

Zhao Yang's heart was both relaxed and heartbroken.

Just when she walked out of the thatched cottage, she heard Chen Luo's words spread through the magic circle.

"Mother..." The child shook Zhao Yang's hand. He could see that his mother was unhappy and wanted to make her happy, so he stretched out his hand, "Look, I have it too!"

After speaking, a ray of colorful air the size of a bean sprout condensed on the child's palm, flickering and swaying.

"You... how can you have this colorful aura?" Zhao Yang was shocked, squatted down, and asked.

Seeing Zhao Yang's reaction, the child was taken aback and said, "Grandpa Li next door has a lot of newspapers, he showed me..."

"You can understand?"

The child shook his head: "I don't understand. Grandpa Li told me that it was a group of people who grabbed a baby and then started fighting. I was happy when I saw the good guy win, and sad when I saw the bad guy win. Look, there is this thing."

Looking at the nervous child, Zhao Yang suddenly laughed, laughed and cried again. She held the child tightly in her arms and used all her strength, as if she could keep him from leaving her side.

The child felt uncomfortable being held, and without shouting, he gently patted the child's back: "Mother don't cry. Can I practice cultivation? From now on, I can kill the barbarians and protect my mother like my father. kiss..."

When Zhao Yang heard the words, he cried even louder, and kept mumbling in his mouth: "My son...my son..."

...

"I have it! I have it!" A drunkard who looked like a literati rushed out of the liquor store, and the colorful aura the size of mung bean condensed on his palm.

"If it wasn't for Wan Anbo's reminder, I haven't found the red dust in my body!" The drunkard laughed up to the sky, "I can cultivate! I can cultivate—" He shouted, and the tears couldn't stop.

Almost at the same time, the same voice sounded everywhere in the central capital, like a thunderstorm.

"I have that too!"

"I have that too!"

"It's so weak, I didn't even notice it!"

"Don't talk nonsense! Wan Anbo has only written a book, and it's not over yet. You've only read it once, so you're naturally weak."

"Hahaha, I'm Wufu!"

"I'm a warrior too!"

"Wufu! Wufu!"

...

Even in the Dongque campus, everyone could hear the roars of surprise coming from all directions.

Some great Confucians showed excitement on their faces. They were not worried that Martial Dao would take away the source of Confucianism and Daoism, because the first choice for those who truly awakened their talents to read through would be Confucianism and Daoism.

After all, Confucianism and Taoism can be sanctified.

And they also read Chen Luo's books. Unlike Taoist and Buddhist scriptures, they are another system, but they are also full of Wenhua spirit.

This is equivalent to the cousin of Confucianism and Taoism.

They checked a little and found that there was also a trace of red dust in their bodies. That red dust gas can actually not reject Haoran's righteousness, which further illustrates this point.

What they thought of more was that if everyone could practice martial arts, even if Chen Luo only opened martial arts for three thousand miles, and cultivated to the level of combat power that rivaled the poetry realm, the heritage of the human race would be doubled!

For a time, all the great Confucians were full of vigour and righteousness, and looked at the Yaozu mission.

Whenever they show any signs of doing something, they will shoot them and kill them.

The current Chen Luo is much more important than a demon mission.

Give it a try!

The demon clan mission, who clearly sensed the change of time, seemed to feel that the Confucian seat in front of him had turned into the Wanren Mountain in the north, and immediately took the initiative to restrain the demonic energy all over his body, for fear of causing misunderstanding.

The old Shijia Confucian shook his hands and stretched out his hand to grab it. The space in front of him was suddenly distorted. The Shijia Confucian plunged his hand into the void and took out a bamboo slip.

He spread out the bamboo slip, pulled out the brush that secures the crown from his head, turned the ink in his righteousness, and wrote on the bamboo slip—

"The forty-sixth year of the Daxuan calendar is in the 46th year, autumn, and the fifth day of the tenth lunar month. Daxuan Wan'anbo Chen Luo and the demon clan fought with each other, four songs were written in the spring, summer, autumn and winter. I thought it was exile. At times, there was a man who was punishing Lu Shi Dazhi ignored the righteousness and threatened Wan Anbo. Wan Anbo really spoke to the emperor, preached the world, and opened the fourth spiritual path for the human race, saying: Wu!"

"This record should be the beginning of martial arts!"

"Sima Yimai~www.wuxiamtl.com~ weeping with blood to note, it must not be changed for eternity!"

After speaking, Sima Daru slammed his chest and spewed out a mouthful of the blood of Shi Jia's mantra, which was bred with great uprightness, and spit on the bamboo slip. The bamboo slip flashed with blood, and then slowly disappeared into the void.

Lu Dazhi, who was in the crowd, was suddenly dizzy, feeling that his whole body was about to leave him, and his body exuded a disgusting smell. Suddenly shouting "I'm wrong" and collapsed to the ground, the personnel do not know.

This is the great scholar of history who nailed him to the pillar of shame in the history books with the power of Sima Bansheng's lineage.

Historian's supernatural powers, stinking for thousands of years!

...

On the high jade platform, Song Tuizhi and Wen Sheng fell from the air, and they were respectively arranged behind Chen Luo to the left and right, like a guardian. The two eyes passed through the teleportation array, as if through the endless void, and confronted countless eyes.

They were telling everyone that behind Chen Luo, stood Wenchang Pavilion and the lineage of Bamboo Forest!

Chen Luo looked at Bai Qingqing, who was standing aside and didn't dare to make any moves, and smiled lightly: "Young Master Young Master, let's go down, it's time to fight..."