"哐······"
It was like a huge meteorite hitting the earth. The chunky monk’s head was like a missile. It aimed at one of the high-speed rotating fans and slammed into it, just as his head collided with the blades of the fan. At the moment, everyone heard a crisp sound of bone rubbing:
"Kacha..."
The chubby monk's body seemed to be a dead leaf that was blown off. As the fan blades fell apart, they flew upside down. The moment the fan leaves his head tilted in contact with the ground, it seemed like a head from the hillside. The wild boar rolled down five meters away before stabilizing his body.
At the moment when the monk landed, Long Zhiwen on the side picked up the machete by Liu Dadao and threw it towards another rapidly rotating ceiling fan. This knife seemed to have calculated the gap and time between the fan blades. , The sharp blade went straight through the fan blade and plunged deeply into the ceiling.
"clang······"
Under a sharp metal collision, the rotating electric fan seemed to be a high-speed car. The brake was suddenly stepped on. Jiang Minghao's eyes penetrated the ceiling and looked at the place where the blade plunged. This knife just hit the electric fan. The power supply line was cut off, and the sporadic sparks caused by the sudden short circuit of the line were immediately separated by the ceiling at the moment of bursting, and did not ignite the floating dust in the air in the front hall.
Jiang Minghao's eyes moved slowly from the ceiling. He looked at the majestic commander in front of him, but he couldn't see what he was thinking. But from his cut, Jiang Minghao was certain that he was fighting with Liu. In the big sword duel, Long Zhiwen did not use his full strength, even the knife on the neck seemed to be a bitter trick.
"Oh, oh, I almost killed the fat monk, oh, oh, oh!"
The fat monk’s groan interrupted Jiang Minghao’s thoughts. The hearts that everyone was holding for him slowly relaxed. He could still hum, indicating that it should be okay, but the crooked head seemed to have twisted his neck. He sat up and wanted to come straight, but the slightest touch made the monk bark his teeth in pain.
"Master Fat Monk, are you okay?"
Wei Debing grinned with pain when he saw the chunky monk sitting there with his head tilted, but his smooth and reflective head, which was as if it were a mirror, was intact after being in close contact with the high-speed rotating electric fan.
"Oh, my good disciple, have you finally recognized me as a master? Oops, this head is worth it!"
"Eh..." Although Wei Debing was speechless for a while, he still helped the chunky monk to stand up. When did he promise the monk to be his apprentice? So he asked ignorantly:
"Didn't it mean that all monks and nuns can be honored as masters?"
"What are you talking about? Nun!" When the chunky monk heard Wei Debing talking about nun, his face was suddenly filled with anger, and he asked fiercely:
"You kid mean to find a nun as a master? Then if I can't do you today and turn you into a woman, I'm sorry you called me the master?"
While talking, the chunky monk looked at Wei Debing's crotch. Those eyes seemed to be a castration knife. He seemed to have decapitated the bird in Wei Debing's crotch. He was shivering when he saw Wei Debing. This is not to force himself. Be his apprentice? How can anyone coerce others in order to recruit apprentices
"Uh, Chunky Master, can't I recognize you as a master?" Wei Debing cried his face, he held the monk with one hand, and covered his crotch with the other, as if he had eaten mouse shit, but he couldn't say it. It provokes everyone for a while. The roar of laughter.
"Huh!" Hearing everyone's laughter, the monk thought he was laughing at him being short and fat, so he deliberately lowered his face and said solemnly: "The poor monk's Dharma name can't be said. Later, you call me no master, don't call me short. Fat Master!"
"Haha..."
The monk's expression, the crooked head, and the childish words made everyone laugh again.
"Humph!"
Suddenly, a cold snort interrupted everyone's laughter, and Zhao Ritian's voice came from the horn again, and he gritted his teeth and said:
"You guys are very happy? It seems that I really underestimated the stinky monk's head. I didn't expect your iron head skill to knock down the fast-rotating electric fan, but it seems that you are too happy."
Zhao Ritian's voice suddenly stretched, and the sharp voice was like two pieces of metal rubbing, which made people hear the scalp numb. He just continued to say:
"But I believe that the density of dust in the air at this time is enough to create a small-scale explosion. Just wait for your death!"
"and many more!"
Just as Zhao Ritian finished speaking, an old man with white beard in coarse clothes suddenly stood up and said:
"Mr. Zhao, say something to Rong Laogu!"
The white-bearded old man arched his hand in the direction that the voice was passing through, with a face full of respect. From his face, it can be seen that Zhao Ritian's position in his mind seems to be comparable to that of Sun and Moon, but this is exactly the same as Zhao Ritian just now. Seeing him and his companion's life-like attitudes formed a sharp contrast, just listen to the old man continue to say:
"The old man came this time to repay his gratitude. Maybe Mr. Zhao didn't want anyone to leave. Regardless of the outcome of the match, Mr. Zhao hopes that we will always shut up from now on and not reveal what happened today. Perhaps Mr. Zhao's actions In the eyes of the people in the community, it is against morals, but the old understand that after all, those who do big things must be willing to sacrifice, be cruel, and look cold."
As the white-bearded old man was talking, there was an inexplicable sadness on his body, which made people feel that the old man's heart was hiding a great deal of suffering. Finally, he suddenly raised his head, and a trace of pleading appeared in his eyes:
"The old man receives the favor of Mr. Zhao for his meal. This kind of re-creation will never forget the old man. I hope that Mr. Zhao will give the old man the opportunity to repay Mr. Zhao for his meal. Life and death are determined by Mr. Zhao."
"Old man Yang, I know you are stubborn, but don't be stubborn. Oh, my fourth uncle and grandfather, old man Yang, they are killing us!"
Just as the white-bearded old man had just finished speaking, a man behind him with pink make-up, gorgeously flamboyantly vomited in a feminine voice: "Old man Yang, are you still a Taijiquan master? Why don't you have any brains? Zhao Ritian asked us to come over to fight, we are here, but he didn't say that it will kill us! I'm still young, not pretty enough, don't drag us down if you want to die!"
Maybe it was too anxious, maybe it was for pretense, he huffed out the painting fan in his hand and started to fan it, with his left hand propped on his waist, and his right hand fanning the wind. That coquettish energy made people feel nauseous.
"Oh, let me go, are you a ladyboy sent by the fetal country?" After Wu Tian heard this, he did not hesitate to say what everyone thought, but the other party was not angry, just replied with a disgusting expression:
"You smelly men, you really don't understand the style..."
"Haha..." Before he could finish speaking, Wu Tian laughed and interrupted: "You are not like a stinky man."
"Wrong!" Unexpectedly, the gorgeous sissy suddenly closed the painting fan, twisting the orchid and pointed out: "I am not a smelly man, I am a fragrant man..."
"vomit·······"
Wu Tian made an exaggerated look that he wanted to vomit, and the sissy on the opposite side was so angry that she was panting with her hands on her hips. If it weren't for her life and cooperation for the time being, he would have torn Wu Tian's mouth.
"Xiaotian, all right, stop making trouble."
Seeing that the other party was about to get angry, Jiang Minghao immediately yelled. He turned his wheelchair and came to the old gentleman Yang, nodding towards him in tribute:
"Mr. Yang, hello, next Jiang Minghao."
Although Jiang Minghao was extremely respectful, the white-bearded old man surnamed Yang suddenly put away his pleading expression, raised his head, behind his hands, and ignored him, as if to draw a line with Jiang Minghao, but Jiang Minghao was still the same. The deputy humble expression said:
"I don't know what kind of kindness Zhao Ritian has to Mr. Yang, but compared to the lives of ten people present, is the kindness of a meal in Mr. Yang's mouth more important than the lives of these ten people?"
The old man with white beard still did not speak, but the slightly twitching muscles on his face let Jiang Minghao know that the old gentleman in front of him was already moved. His hands behind his back were pinching each other, as if there was a flow of air flowing back and forth in his hands. It's running, struggling in the bottom of my heart.
As a warrior, especially a pure warrior like Yang Lao Tau, there is nothing long except for a kung fu. In this materialistic society, survival is a huge problem, but for the dignity of the warrior, this stubborn one The old man was also unwilling to open a museum to earn money, and even more unwilling to commit himself to being a bodyguard driven by others in a low voice, so once he couldn't even eat enough to eat, he met Zhao Ritian in the most difficult time.
Unlike other people, Zhao Ritian did not look down on this martial artist, but treated him as a guest, served him with good food and drink, and met all the requirements of the old man. Although Zhao Ritian’s attitude today is extremely opposite to usual, old man Yang only treats him as him. It was anger that wiped out reason, so I was still thinking about repaying my gratitude. But from the bottom of his heart, he knew very well that no matter how great the kindness was, it could not be as big as a life, and it was still ten lives, so his heart was struggling all the time.
Jiang Minghao's see-through eyes passed through his body, and he clearly saw that his left and right hands were like two giant dragons intertwined and struggled with each other. Two black and white air currents were generated in the palms of each other, and they were glued to each other, reflecting the contradictions and entanglements in his heart. .
"Take your energy down?"
Looking at the two groups of black and white intertwined air currents Jiang Minghao muttered to himself, from the two groups of different colors, it can be judged that the old man in front of him has reached the state of minimizing his energy in the internal martial arts.
In fact, Kungfu, whether inside or outside, has the same goal in different ways. It turns from Li Jin to Qi Jin. The so-called Li Jin refers to the strength generated by the strength of one's own body, but Qi Jin is different. It is the sublimation of strength, if Comparing Lijin to water, water droplets pierce through stones, so Qijin is air, which permeates through all holes.
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