The little crying bag became the furnace of the demon king

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"There is no result for him to practice like this." Zhemo's voice was quiet, "You didn't give him guidance, and his posture is not accurate."

"There is no way to guide." Zhe Yu shook his head, "The aptitude of the furnace is too poor, and the Qi gathered for a year will not make any progress."

"You are biased." Zhemo raised his eyes to look at Zheyu, his deep eyes seemed to have no waves, "Because of Zhexi?"

Zhe Yu's mind was poked, and his expression paused.

Zhemo took all his reactions into his eyes, and the hand at his side tightened slightly, but his voice sounded unwavering: "Tell me, you have let go."

Zhe Yu didn't want to discuss this topic, and Yin Mei's face showed impatience: "They are all disciples of the same school, Zhe Xi is still our senior brother, so what if I care about him."

"Your Majesty has his own reasons for doing things." Zhe Mo said.

Zhe Yu didn't like this, and frowned instantly: "It's not enough to punish Zhe Xi to kneel in the ice for a cauldron, and he was imprisoned for three months. It's not because he was dazzled by lust. What's the reason?"

Zhemo sensed his emotional fluctuations, took a step back, turned around, and walked in the direction of Zhaoyan.

"What are you going to do?" Zhe Yu called to stop him.

"The furnace is overdrawn in the body, if you don't call it to stop, how is it different from corporal punishment?" Zhe Mo said.

Zhe Yu stepped forward to block his way: "Brother, I advise you not to meddle in your own business."

"Since you know that I am your senior brother, you should understand that I also have the power to govern my disciples."

"Enough!" Zheyu raised his voice, his eyes flickering with anger, "I don't even feel sorry for Zhexi when I feel sorry for an outsider, you are really ugly to be jealous!"

Hearing this, Zhemo's quiet face finally cracked open.

His slender eyelashes trembled slightly, but he suppressed the discomfort in his heart.

Zhe Yu heard his heavy breathing, and seemed to realize that he had said something he shouldn't have said.

"I..." Zhe Yu paused, and didn't know what to say to justify for a while, "I'm talking nonsense, don't worry about it."

Zhe Mo took a deep breath, and turned his gaze away from him: "Since you haven't let go, why did you provoke me?"

After finishing speaking, he shook off Zhe Yu's hand holding his arm, and continued to walk forward.

When Zhaoyan raised his hand to wipe the sweat off his face for the umpteenth time, he was suddenly attracted by the overturning shadow.

He slowly raised his eyelids, and was slightly taken aback when he met Shang Zhe Mo's lake-like pupils.

"Sit down and rest for a while." Zhemo took out a handkerchief from his waist and handed it to Zhaoyan.

"Thank you, thank you..." Zhaoyan took Zhemo's handkerchief with both hands, a little embarrassed, "However, the other disciples didn't rest, and neither can I. Rest."

Zhe Mo said lightly: "I am Zhe Mo, Your Majesty's second disciple."

Zhaoyan understood that it was his master who taught him: "My name is Zhaoyan."

"Well, the cultivation of other disciples is different from yours." Zhemo explained, "You are a furnace, and you are still in the initial stage of cultivation at this moment. Rapid progress will only get twice the result with half the effort."

"Okay, then I'll rest for a while." Zhaoyan got Zhemo's permission, finally let go of his sore arm, and sat down while supporting a tree beside him.

His legs had stiffened, and now he could almost hear the bones clicking when he bent them.

"Your training posture needs to be adjusted." Zhe Mo reminded, "Keep your legs shoulder-width apart, and keep them close together when breathing in."

"I will remember." Zhaoyan nodded while wiping his sweat, and smiled at Zhemo, "Thank you, master."

"I'm not your master." Zhe Mo turned his back, "You only belong to His Majesty, and we will only teach you for the time being."

Zhaoyan lowered his eyes slowly, the word "belonging" was too intimate, which gave him a strange feeling.

"Take a rest before continuing." Zhe Mo said, "If you encounter difficulties, go to the front and find me."

"Hmm!" Although the other party's tone was as indifferent as Zhe Xi's, Zhao Yan could sense that the other party had no malice towards him.

He nodded earnestly, and squeezed Zhemo's handkerchief tightly. Seeing that Zhemo was about to leave, he quickly said, "I'll wash your handkerchief tonight, and I'll return it to you."

"No more." Zhe Mo refused, seeing a disciple in front of him who was not practicing well, he went to guide him.

Zhe Yu stood at the front of the crowd, staring fixedly at Zhe Mo's slender figure, his beautiful face was a little darker.

Zhaoyan massaged his arm for a long time, and the soreness in his arm got better.

It's just that I haven't eaten for a long time, and my stomach keeps screaming.He raised his hand and pressed his stomach, hoping it wouldn't make such a fuss.

After a while, when Zhemo and Zheyu ordered the disciples to rest, Zhaoyan stood up from the ground.

He patted the ashes off his body, leaned against the tree and watched the two go away.

As soon as the two masters left, the cultivating disciples immediately became active.

They talked and laughed, and Zhao Yan watched them talking and laughing alone from afar.

He sighed and lowered his head to look at the handkerchief in his palm.

At the same moment, a hand holding a white steamed bun reached out to his eyes.

"You haven't eaten breakfast, have you?" said the black-clothed disciple holding a steamed bun, "You came late this morning."

Zhaoyan opened his eyes slightly, he looked at the steamed bun in his disciple's palm, then at the smile on his lips, and asked uncertainly, "Yes, is it for me?"

"It's for you." The disciple affirmed.

"Thank you, but no need." Zhao Yan was very hungry, but he shook his head and refused.

He had never met the person in front of him, and he didn't really want what the stranger gave him.

"Why?" Seeing that he disagreed, the disciple frowned, "Are you afraid that I will poison you? They are all disciples of the same school, so there is no need to be so unreasonable."

"No." Zhaoyan quickly denied, "I didn't think so."

"Then you go ahead." The disciple took Zhaoyan's hand and put the steamed buns in his palm, "Someone asked me for it just now, but I didn't give it."

Zhaoyan was forced to hold the steamed bun, and lowered his eyes in embarrassment: "But, why did you give it to me..."

The disciple smiled: "Because you are good-looking."

Hearing the words, his body froze for a moment.

He took a step back reflexively, distanced himself from the other party, but replied politely: "...Thank you."

"Aren't you going to eat?" Seeing that Zhaoyan was full of defense against himself, the disciple's eyes darkened, "Could it be that you look down on us because you are a respectable person?"

"No, I didn't look down on you." Zhao Yan couldn't keep up with the other party's brain circuit, his eyes fell on the steamed bun in his hand, and his eyelashes trembled in embarrassment.

"Forget it, you are a superior person, you are superior to us, and there is no need to bend down to get along with us." The disciple said, sighing regretfully, "I want to be friends with you, since you No intention, then if I force it again, it seems that I am annoying."

Zhaoyan squeezed the soft food in his hand, parted his plump lips slightly, and said in a low voice, "I want to be friends with you."

When the disciple heard this, he immediately smiled and said, "That's great, then this steamed bun is my gift to you."

"Ah...thank you..." Zhaoyan nodded, and if he didn't accept what he said, he would appear indifferent.

He brought the steamed bun to his mouth, and under the gaze of his disciples, he took a small bite.

The disciple laughed: "Eat first, the master will be back later, I have to stand in the line."

"Hmm." Zhaoyan responded with the steamed buns in his hands. The steamed buns are very sweet, although he just bit into them, but the sweet and greasy taste in his taste buds is easily addictive.

People are full of yearning for sweetness.

He glanced at the back of his disciple happily running away, but felt that he was a little suspicious.

A slight smile appeared in Zhaoyan's eyes, he took another bite of the steamed bun, and glanced in the direction Zhemo left just now.

If the masters are coming back, he has to eat faster.

There are [-] breath-adjusting and Qi-gathering movements left, the task is very difficult.

When he took the third bite, Zhao Yan was taken aback.

Why, there is a strange taste, in the mouth, it is cold, like biting some plump little creature, bringing a little nauseating discomfort.

Zhao Yan looked down at the white steamed bun in his hand, and there appeared several small black worms that seemed to be missing half of their body, some were dead, and some were still burrowing out.

Zhao Yan's face turned pale.

"vomit--"

He blushed, quickly spit out what was in his mouth, and threw away the remaining half of the steamed bun. His hands and feet were numb and cold from the horror.

Water mist quickly appeared in the eyes, blurring the eyes that should be able to clearly see other people's teasing.

Uncomfortable body fluid spilled out of the corners of his lips, he supported the tree beside him, his stomach was overwhelmed, nausea was unbearable.

"Hahahahaha." The evil disciple had been paying attention to Zhaoyan's reaction, and when he saw Zhaoyan's disgusted appearance at this time, he roared with laughter.

The circle of people around him were clearly in collusion with the disciple, and they laughed happily.

When they glanced at the more steamed buns left on the ground than expected, they regretted, "Unfortunately, there are too few to eat. If I had known this, I should have put a few more buns in."

Zhao Yan heard that they didn't deliberately avoid their conversation, wiped the liquid from his lips, and gradually breathed harder.

He rubbed his reddened eyes, trying to hold back the tears.

As Fengyue said before, Zhexi had to be careful because she was punished.

But I didn't listen...

So stupid...how could you be so stupid...

No one here would like him...

After Zhaoyan was teased, he was out of his mind all morning.

When the training was over, he was supposed to go to the Cold Food Hall for dinner with his disciples, but when he thought of the steamed buns in the morning, he was afraid that his stomach would convulse, and he had no appetite at all.

He stopped in front of the Cold Food Hall, caught the eye of the disciple from the morning unexpectedly, and shivered in fright.

"Come in, we've prepared your food for you." The disciple greeted Zhaoyan as if nothing had happened, "We dare not neglect what Your Majesty ordered."

"Don't." Some other disciples held the talking disciple's arm, sarcasm intentionally or unintentionally, "Be careful, people will sue your lord, saying that you are yin and yang."

"Hahahahaha, how do you complain, while shaking your buttocks, crying and telling your lord that I added ingredients to his meal?"

Their conversation as if no one else was there made Zhaoyan's hand hanging by his side tremble violently.

[The author has something to say: This article is about the Cambrian Chronicle, and the author's code words are not easy. I hope that the little cuties will support the original version~Thank you for your support, hehe

Thanks: 杝炘1*trilobite, Bixin

Thank you for your votes, mua~]