The Emperor of the Immortal Realm

Not only Wang Long, the Confucian scholars, all around the Confucianists who complimented him, they also glared at each other.

The pen is shocked by wind and rain, and the poem becomes the cry of Ghost God. Is this grandstanding?

Suddenly, one by one glared in the direction of the sound.

But the door of the Oriental Palace in the distance opened wide.

After a series of gorgeous words came out, Confucianists almost forgot the targeted Yan Chuan, but at this time, everyone saw that Yan Chuan stepped out of the Oriental Palace.

"Is it wrong to be a coward?" Chen Ping was slightly startled.

Jump out at this time? Let the originally surprised people show their incomprehension.

I saw Yan Chuan stepping out, followed by Azure Dragon.

"Meow, Yan Chuan, those people are so hateful, they all scold you!" Meow ran over.

"The pen is shocked by wind and rain, the poetry is sobbing Ghost God, Yan Chuan, this is a stubborn stubble, why are you coming out this time?" Dongfang Zhengpai puzzled.

"Does Wengui count as Ghost God?" Yan Chuan showed a slight disdain.

"Huh?" Dongfang Zhengpai was puzzled.

"People have already kicked the door, let's go, let's go over!" Yan Chuan said indifferently.

"In the past? Now?" Dongfang Zhengpai was surprised.

You need to know that the thirty-two great Confucian scholars of the other party are already expected by the public. Going now, isn’t it inviting humiliation to oneself?

Yan Chuan stepped out carrying Meow, Azure Dragon following closely from behind, holding a huge plaque in his hand.

"en?"

"Yan Chuan?"

"He still dare to come?"

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The cultivators of the four directions all showed a surprised look, and nearly ten thousand Confucian scholars also showed incomprehensible expressions in their eyes. There is a trace of pity.

Although Chen Ping was mocking in his eyes, for some reason, he suddenly felt a little uneasy. disturbed?

The two floating islands are not far apart, and in a blink of an eye, Yan Chuan is near.

"Yan Chuan?" Wang Long frowned.

"What are you doing?" A big scholar frowned.

"Azure Dragon, show him the invitation, who issued it?" Yan Chuan said indifferently.

"Yes!"

Azure Dragon took out the invitation card. As soon as the invitation card came out, everyone immediately recognized the words on it. Wang Long's words.

The group of scholars stared at Yan Chuan. Although Yan Chuan came late, it still became the focus here. Who made at first Chen Ping's poems aimed at Yan Chuan?

"wū wū wū wū!"

In the distance, the ghosts are still crying and praising Wang Long's poem.

"The pen was shocked by wind and rain, and the poetry became sobbing Ghost God?" Yan Chuan showed a touch of disdain.

"I don't know what to advise?" Wang Long still maintains his image among the Confucians.

"Yes, there is ability, you can write it too!" Chen Ping exclaimed.

Yan Chuan glanced at Chen Ping. Waved slightly.

Azure Dragon immediately took out a brush.

Nearly thousands of ghosts surrounded Wang Long’s poems and cried, Yan Chuan picked up his pen and landed on a huge stone tablet directly opposite.

Nearly ten thousand Confucian scholars and nearly one hundred thousand onlookers were surprised.

"This Yan Chuan, really courting death!"

"Yes, he would dare to fight against Wang Long and Daru?"

"Lian Haoran There is no righteousness, why are you fighting?"

"overestimate one's capabilities!"

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all around There are waves of mocking and disdain.

But at this moment, Wang Long suddenly had a bad premonition, his expression was still, but his eyes were extremely sharp.

"Meow, meow!" Meow baring fangs and brandishing claws are facing a group of people who scold Yan Chuan.

Azure Dragon is slightly worried, Dongfang Zhengpai has no face and no skin, it doesn't matter.

I saw Yan Chuan write down.

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Thinking about breaking through the red road in my life, the sword is hidden in the house. Wan Zhan claimed not to mention the blade, and was born with eyes contemptuous of the heroes.