There's No Witch I Can't Wash

Fragments of the writing brush almost fell into Lin Ye's hands, and the words written by the brush became more and more horrific, and the handwriting that hadn't dried up seemed to be flowing with blood.

"It is expected that the place where the heart will be broken every year, the bright moon night, and the short Matsuoka."

Finally, as the last word fell, the writing brush in Lin Ye's hand was completely turned into powder, and at the same time, a large cloud of bright red color gushed out from the burst pen tip, like a mouthful of blood sprayed on his hand. Same as in the brochure.

Chapter 51 Your whole family has lost their wives

Lin Ye couldn't help feeling a palpitation. Looking at the booklet in his hand, looking at the bright red marks and words on the booklet, it was as if the lyricist had sprayed blood on it when the words were completed.

However, the blood did not cover up the words on the paper, but instead made the bloody handwriting more lifelike and shocking.

Evil door... What a fucking evil door.

I just copied a poem. I copied a poem in the cemetery.

Now the writing pen is blown to scum, and the booklet for writing lyrics is also soaked with traces of blood. If it is not broad daylight and there are so many people around, Lin Ye would even wonder if he made a mistake today. The script was changed to a horror film.

But... this feeling is really strange.

Recalling the process of writing this poem by himself before, and feeling the mystery of it, Lin Ye couldn't help showing a clear expression.

Although he didn't get any substantive things from the pen and the booklet, he got more rare benefits, and he could be considered to have explored some mysteries of these two utensils.

Train your heart!

Compared with the improvement of strength, it is undoubtedly the state of mind of the practitioner that is more difficult to improve, and this booklet, which has been passed down for an unknown period of time and has been banned from many masters, has the magical effect of sharpening the state of mind.

This booklet, which records the experience of an unknown number of people, is equivalent to allowing the holder to repeat these perceptions and experiences again, which can produce unparalleled benefits for sharpening the holder's state of mind.

But I don't know why, it seems that when I just wrote the song Jiang Chengzi, the mind-training effect of the booklet was not triggered, and the brush even exploded.

Aside from blowing up the writing brush, this booklet seems to have lost that strange atmosphere, and it seems to have completely become an ordinary booklet.

So what's going on?

I can't figure it out...

Perhaps, it should be because this booklet is only a fake after all.

With a sigh, Lin Ye suddenly felt dull, and he planned to close the booklet in his hand and hand it back to the Confucianist.

"I'm sorry, Brother Xue, I accidentally broke your stuff. But I don't know what happened. This pen broke into pieces like this. Look at that...how about I How many brushes and books should I pay you?"

As he said this, he showed some embarrassment on his face. Although this thing is a fake, it must be a great treasure for this Confucianist.

Of course, Lin Ye would not admit that he had broken the other party's treasure, and just pretended to be stupid, treating these things as ordinary pens and books.

However, Xue Wencheng who was standing there didn't seem to have heard Lin Ye's apology. His eyes were red, and he made a wheezing sound. Like my wife's pen.

He took a step forward and stretched out his hand, grabbing Lin Ye's arm tightly, as if he wanted to say something.But he didn't utter a single word for a long time, except for the animal-like wheezing and wheezing sound.

The corner of Lin Ye's mouth twitched involuntarily, and he looked away from him even more guilty.

"That...Brother Xue, don't be angry. At worst, I'll pay you a little more. How about I pay you a hundred brushes?"

"Boob boo boo boo boo boo boo boo boo..."

However, Xue Wencheng remained unmoved, and even made a strange sound from his mouth.

Pushing the opponent away, seeing the red eyes of the opponent like an orangutan in heat, Lin Ye couldn't help feeling vigilant.

This Xue Wencheng... looks very strange. I heard that there are a group of men in the Confucianism Sect. Does this guy have a habit of cutting off his sleeves?

Pushed by Lin Ye, Xue Wencheng also realized that he had lost his composure. He stood still and took a deep breath, recovering his excitement a little, and then he began to speak smoothly.

"brother!"

It turned out that it was not calling for chest, but calling for brother...

"It's great...it's so exquisite. I can feel and see all the grief conveyed by this word and the artistic conception expressed by this word. It's really great!"

The matter of the Chunqiu pen being broken has been left out of Xue Wencheng's mind, and with the yin and yang book that records this famous sentence from ancient times in hand, the responsibility of the Chunqiu pen is over.

From now on, no one or any pen can leave writing on this booklet. This poem is the swan song of this Spring and Autumn Pen and Yin-Yang Book!

It will also be the swan song that has been passed down through the ages!

Thinking of this, Xue Wencheng put the booklet close to his body with a gentle expression and gentle movements. Lin Ye couldn't help but get goosebumps again with that expression and movement, and took a few steps back.

He really couldn't understand the reason for Xue Wencheng's excitement. After all, he just copied a poem, a poem that elementary school students would recite in their world.

The words are indeed good words, so there is no need to say more about the talent of Layman Dongpo.It may be that Lin Ye was too young when he first came across this poem, and Lin Ye couldn't understand the deep meaning of this poem. He only knew that it was written by Lay Dongpo to commemorate his deceased wife, and he just felt the faint feeling conveyed by this poem. desolate.

What do children know? How can they understand that bamboo sticks and straw sandals are lighter than horses? Who is afraid?A cloud of mist and rain, Ren Pingsheng's free and easy life, how could he understand the bitterness of wanting to talk, wanting to talk, but saying that the sky is cool and autumn is bitter.

They only know to memorize all these, and then get five points for free on the ancient poetry fill-in-the-blank questions.

As for growing up...

Lin Ye couldn't help showing a wry smile on his face. After growing up, there was no time to feel and understand the grief of the ancients.

"I'm sorry... I was too excited to ignore your feelings. Writing this word reminds you of sad things again?"

Seeing Lin Ye's bitter expression, Xue Wencheng came back to his senses. He was overjoyed here. He was very excited because he heard such a masterpiece, but he forgot that it was a bitter poem in memory of his dead wife.

His wife was buried here, and the poems he wrote this time must be touching the scene.

"Brother, look away, my younger brother and sister have knowledge under the spring water, and I definitely don't want to see you so sad!"