When the three of them walked across a cliff, they saw several strange-looking demon monks who were competing with each other in magic, as if they were arguing about whose transformation technique was more powerful.
When passing by a pavilion, they encountered two people fighting with the art of talismans. Although the fight was very intense, they both had smiles on their faces and were obviously enjoying it.
"Is this how your sect practices on a daily basis?" Fu Donglai couldn't help but ask.
"Not really. On weekdays, there will be elders teaching their subordinate disciples and guiding their practice. Occasionally, the ancestors will come out to preach, and everyone will gather together to discuss and listen to the Dharma. Only in my spare time will I compete with my fellow disciples in magic. Everyone is in sync and knows how to stop when necessary. This is of great help to my practice." The little Taoist boy explained.
Fu Donglai listened to this and felt deeply moved.
When they were in Lion Camel Ridge, even when fellow disciples were sparring, they would often fight without holding back, risking their lives. How could there be such a harmonious atmosphere as in Fang Cun Mountain
Shen Luo saw this and found it quite interesting. He thought to himself, "Only a sect that is not bound by rules like this can produce a disciple as talented as Sun Wukong..."
The few of them walked forward with brisk steps. When they reached some forks in the road, Shen Luo was still able to find the correct direction based on his memory. This surprised the Taoist boy who was responsible for leading the way, and he mistakenly thought that Shen Luo had been to Fangcun Mountain before.
When he asked, Shen Luo just smiled and denied it without explaining any further.
Soon, the three of them trudged all the way to the top of a mountain.
The vegetation on the top of the mountain is sparse, and there is a naturally formed open area with a simple thatched house built on it.
The thatched house has only three adjacent houses, and in front of it is a small courtyard surrounded by a fence. In the middle of the house is a wooden gatehouse more than one meter high, with a wooden plaque hung horizontally on it, engraved with three large characters "Fang Cun Ju".
Shen Luo vaguely remembered that he had been here before, but he did not see any thatched house at that time. It seemed that it had probably been destroyed and no longer existed.
The little Taoist boy led Shen Luo and the other person into the courtyard, and they saw a small vegetable garden on the left side of the courtyard and a stone table and stone benches on the right side. It looked very simple and plain, almost the same as a farmhouse in the city.
"The ancestor has ordered that Mr. Shen come into the house for a chat. Mr. Fu, please stay here and have a cup of tea and wait for a while." The little Taoist boy said as he waved his sleeves across the stone table.
A flash of green light flashed across the table, and a set of exquisite purple pottery tea sets fell on the table.
The teacup has been filled with tea, which is light green and clear in color, and filled with a lingering fragrance that is refreshing.
"Thank you very much." Fu Donglai thanked him and sat down immediately.
Shen Luo said "thank you" to the little Taoist boy, and then followed him to the thatched hut in the middle.
When he came closer, the little Taoist boy pushed the dark wooden door open, said "please", and then stepped aside.
Shen Luo hesitated for a moment, but still stepped in.
As soon as he stepped over the threshold, his heart suddenly tightened and he immediately wanted to back out.
But before he could make any move, the space inside the door, where he had not noticed anything unusual before, suddenly twisted. A powerful pulling force pulled him directly, causing him to stagger and fall into the door.