Silly White Sweet Villain Transformation Plan[Transmigration Book]

"Scissors can't be said, Mei Zhiyi worships."

He is a gentleman who abides by etiquette, behaves elegantly and uprightly, even if he hates the person in front of him, he will abide by Wude and report to his family.

"Mei Zhiyi...a mere little monster, I can learn to name it." While speaking, the masked man stabbed at him suddenly with a dagger in his hand, like a ghost with a crying face horribly under the cold light of the blade, "Save it What wishful thinking, huh?"

Mei Zhi's face was like frosting, he held the knife in his backhand, resisting the stabbing dagger, sporadic fragments of light burst out from the cold iron curly blade, falling into his empty pupils, like a handful of fire in the empty land, wanting to Intensified.

The masked man's left hand pointed like a knife, and it went straight to his waist. Mei Zhiyi couldn't dodge it, and a piece of the snow-white monk's robe was cut off. The fabric was thin, and it dissipated after spinning in the air, leaving only a faint fragrance. .

The scimitar was as fast as lightning, and it directly cut off a strand of hair from the masked man, only to see a ball of black flames condensed from the man's palm, and his tone was venomous: "Little monster, follow this blow carefully, I don't want to accept a half-dead Yuan Ling!" .”

As soon as the black flame touched Mei Zhiyi, it swelled up, as if it was extremely corrosive. It ran up his sleeves and spread to his entire arm in a short while. attack.

Seeing that the dagger was about to stab Mei Zhiyi between the eyebrows, the little monk was shocked and jumped on the barrier. For some reason, the barrier was suddenly lifted, and the little monk jumped to the ground and fell directly to the ground.

At the very moment, a figure suddenly appeared between the masked man and Mei Zhiyi. He caught the little monk with one hand, and clamped the stabbing dagger with his fingers together, and slowly sighed: "Amitabha."

"Master!" Zhiyi's eyes lit up, and she quickly stood up.

Yimo nodded at him, and looked at the person in front of him: "My Buddha is merciful, the temple is a clean place, and I hope the benefactor will stop."

The masked man sneered, and pushed forward with force, holding the dagger: "Have you ever said, don't spoil other people's good deeds?"

Yimei twisted his fingertips, and broke the dagger abruptly. He clasped his hands together, and said in a compassionate tone, "There are a lot of murders on the benefactor, do you still want to be obsessed with it?"

"Yes, yes, put down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha right away." Zhiyi poked his head out from behind Yimei, "The Buddha said that people are kind-hearted and beautiful. Look at you wearing that ghost mask. You must be ugly and unable to see people."

The masked man smiled instead of anger, with a soft and low voice: "Smart teeth, I hope you can be like this when I tear down your bones."

This understated tone made Zhizhi shiver, and a chill came up on his back. He hummed heavily, and stared at the masked man pretending to be calm: "The old monster is ugly, he looks ugly, and he wants to tear me apart." Bones, go dreaming."

These words hit the sore spot of the masked man somehow, he walked quickly, the broken dagger in the palm of his hand returned to its original state, his dim eyes were reflected in the cold light, they were a pair of extremely blood-thirsty pupils, revealing endless desire animality.

Yimei frowned, raised his hand and waved away Zhiyi, the soft golden light erupted from the Buddhist beads on his wrist, enveloping his whole body, ripples like flowing water swayed outward, stagnated when touching the dagger, and then rippled , devouring the black air from the dagger.

When the Buddha's light was about to spread to his hands, the masked man retreated quickly. He squeezed the fingertips stained with golden light, as if he was disgusted to the extreme, and his smile disappeared: "The compassion of the infinite Buddha has disappeared for decades. , I never thought you would be nestled in such a ruined temple."

There are Buddha seals of different sizes all over Yimei's body, which are transformed by years of merit and virtue. They are pure and true, incompatible with dirty and evil things, and will purify them when they meet them.

I don't know what came to mind, the man in the mask laughed again, leaning against the railing next to him, unconsciously traced his fingers on the mask, looked at the circles of Buddha's seal merits, and smiled maliciously: "Infinite Buddha's compassionate heart, When the merits and virtues are consummated, I am very curious, you claim to serve the Buddha, but now you are with that little demon, does your Buddha know?"

Yimei raised his eyelids, his gaze sank slightly: "Under the seat of the Buddha, all living beings are equal."

"You're so dignified, you're talking nonsense!" The masked man turned his head to look at the Buddhist hall, and suddenly waved his palm at the Buddha statue, "Then let me see, your Buddha's mercy!"

But seeing a white shadow flashing past, the palm was blocked by someone, at the door of the Buddhist hall, Mei Zhiyi took a few steps back, pinched the door frame tightly with her left hand, and spit out a mouthful of blood.

"How can the almsgiver be allowed to be presumptuous in front of the Buddha." With the palm of his right hand forward, he pushed out Buddha seals one after another.

The masked man retreated quickly, still being burned by the golden light. He swept his gaze over the three people in front of him, and threw his hand like lightning at the plum tree by the wall. Echoed in the air: "Infinite Buddha, let me see how long you can protect them, the body is injured, the turbid energy eats the soul, and it looks like the sun, can you still say 'all beings are equal' to that little demon? I'm disappointed."

The plum tree beside the wall has been around for hundreds of years. It opened a tree while the snow was blowing, and the petals fell to the ground like rain after being hit by the masked man. Looking at the trunk, there is a dagger print two fingers wide. With the black air, the black air spread along the trunk, and within a few breaths, half of the plum tree withered.

As soon as the masked man left, Mei Zhiyi, who was supporting the door frame, fell down. With the little consciousness he had left, he controlled himself to fall forward. From the beginning to the end, he never stepped into the Buddhist hall.

Consciousness trembled, and he hurriedly supported the fainted person, his sleeves were full of fragrance, but he saw that the black hair of the person in his arms had turned white every inch, and his whole body was like a sculpture of ice and snow, except for a sudden blood stain on his lips. Looking up at Yimei, his eyes were already reddened: "Master, I beg you to save him."

Yimo glanced at the Buddhist hall, bowed devoutly to the Buddha statue, his indifferent face showed no joy or sorrow: "Amitabha, my Buddha is merciful and sympathetic, please bring him into the Buddhist hall."

After he finished speaking, he turned around and walked towards the courtyard. It is extremely rare for vegetation to become a demon, and it is even more difficult to find a thousand-year-old demon in the world. It is really not easy to still have the meaning of resistance, which is moving.

Yimo sighed, covering the place covered with black air, a faint golden light poured out from his palm, washing away the black air little by little, he took back his hand after touching for about a quarter of an hour, the Buddhist beads on his wrist were originally clear and bright Translucent, but at this time it seems to be covered with a layer of shadow.

The masked man's attack was too vicious. Even if he purified it with Buddha's light, he still couldn't restore the plum tree to its original state. Yimei looked at the withered branches and sighed softly.

In the Buddhist hall, Zhiyi put the person in his arms on the futon, and he reached out to wipe the blood from the person's lips, his movements were as light as touching a porcelain doll.

This is the first time he has gotten so close to this person, so close that his nostrils are filled with the cold plum fragrance.

A tree blossoms in a snowy day.

He guessed that this person was a demon, but he didn't expect it to be that Samuume plant in the yard. The last words the masked man said still remained in his mind. His body was injured, and the turbid energy devoured his soul. Could it be serious?

The Buddhist hall was quiet and silent. He touched Mei Zhiyi's wrist for a moment, then let go after a while, and tapped his fingertips between his eyebrows. As the golden light faded, the unconscious person gradually woke up.

Mei Zhiyi opened his eyes and stared blankly for a while, before he recognized where he was, panic flashed across his face, and he was about to get up, but was held down by both hands at the same time.

Knowing how to blow hair, he said in a vicious voice: "Don't move around, don't know if you are injured!"

"Amitabha." Yimo smoothed the folds on his monk's robe and said calmly, "Don't be alarmed, the benefactor, the Buddha will understand."

Earlier, he was hit by the masked man, and his body was eroded by turbid air again. Mei Zhiyi was injured internally, and he was already mentally exhausted. He opened his mouth, and spit out another mouthful of blood, and a little bit of crimson dyed a piece of red on the snow-white monk robe. Mei, the elegant person has a flirtatious color that seems to be absent.

Zhiyi panicked and screamed: "Master, why is he vomiting blood again? Please save him quickly."

Lifting up Mei Zhiyi's right sleeve, there is a direct connection between the spiritual body and the main body. The plum tree's body was injured and withered, which is also reflected in the spiritual body. I can't keep it.

"The turbidity cannot be completely washed away. Your spiritual body has been seriously injured. This arm is beyond recovery. If it continues, the situation is not optimistic. If you want to save your life, you have to cut your bones and shave your flesh."

"How could it be... He, isn't he a demon? Broken bones can still grow back, and they will definitely grow back." Knowing that she was full of thoughts, the words she said didn't match the beginning and the end, and she just held her chest in her arms. The right hand of the person silently blushed.

Yimo looked at Mei Zhiyi, with a serious tone, and said solemnly: "The spiritual body and the main body are connected, and the donor's body cannot be restored. Similarly, the spirit body cannot be reborn if the bones are broken. Time is running out. I hope the donor will make a decision as soon as possible. Devour the soul, or your life will be in jeopardy."

Mei Zhi thought for a moment, then nodded at Chong Yimo: "Please trouble Master to cut off my right arm for me."

His eyes were full of determination, and there was no trace of cowardice. After saying this, he lowered his head, shook his right hand vigorously, and held the warm fingertips of the little monk.

He was born in a world of ice and snow, and grew up in the middle of winter. He has seen flying snow and cold wind, and longed for the scorching sun and warm sun.

Confined in the deep courtyard of the Buddhist hall, he was heartless and ruthless in the form of vegetation. Holding the warmth at this moment, he actually felt a fresh heart grow out of his lungs, beating strongly and gently.

He couldn't help it, and wanted to comfort the red-eyed boy, he said, "Zhiyi, don't be afraid."

To break the bone and shave the flesh, you need to cut off the entire right arm, and then goug out the rotten part of the shoulder that was eroded. At first, I was worried, but later I realized that I was worrying too much. , did not move a bit.

The little monk held the man in his arms tightly, tears rolled down his face, hit Mei Zhiyi's forehead, mixed with his sweat and flowed into his hair.

Mei Zhiyi struggled to open her eyes, and smiled uglier than crying: "Don't cry, I don't hurt."

It was obviously painful, but he comforted himself.

You know, this man is a big liar.