Chapter 48

A cold sweat seeped from his forehead, and the air seemed to condense together, making it difficult for him to move.

The cold sweat gradually flowed down, gathered at the tip of the nose, turned into a crystal bead of sweat, and then gathered bigger and bigger.

"Boo!"

Yang Xuan seemed to hear a light sound, and the beads of sweat quietly fell to the ground and splashed away.

At this moment, the pressure around him suddenly subsided like a tide. He just felt that his body was loose and quickly stabilized his body, so he didn't lose his focus and fall down.

Quietly took two deep breaths. Yang Xuan's face was full of surprise. He looked at the kind old city Lord in front of him and stopped talking.

"Alas, it's still too early to tell you this. Please come here this time to let you write a few more words."

The old city Lord stroked his gray beard and said calmly. It seems that he didn't notice the situation just now or the state of Yang Xuan.

Yang Xuan took a deep breath, hugged his fists, immediately walked over, looked at the white and pure rice paper in front of him and some thick ink in the inkstone, and asked, "what do you dare to ask the main boy of the city to write?"

"One husband is in charge."

The old city owner showed a kind smile and looked at the words in the corner intentionally or unintentionally.

"OK."

After Yang Xuan ordered, without much thought, he directly took the Langhao pen on the desk and put it in the inkstone.

At the moment, all his mind was silent. The suffocation he had just felt disappeared, and the city Lord around him disappeared. Only the rice paper was left in his eyes.

A momentum gradually overflowed from his body, like a moth to the fire, fearless, and like a dead man on the battlefield, making people sad.

The city Lord stepped back quietly, and his eyes were full of appreciation.

The ink pen in Yang Xuan's hand finally fell down and sketched back and forth with the momentum of rushing and killing.

A drop of black ink couldn't stand the shock. It quietly flew out and landed on the old city Lord's white clothes. There seemed to be a diaphragm that blocked it for a moment.

Yang Xuan's momentum became stronger and stronger, and the black ink seemed to be encouraged. After all, it fell up, and a black spot was immediately outlined on his spotless white clothes.

The smile on the old city Lord's face became stronger and stronger. After glancing at the black spots, he didn't care and continued to look at Yang Xuan.

Lift the pen.

Stop.

make smooth reading!

"Lord, the boy has finished writing."

Yang Xuan bowed slightly and then put the wolf pen on the inkstone. At this time, he seemed to be a vented ball. The momentum just now was like an illusion.

"Good word! Good word!"

The old town owner came over and looked at the four big words on the table. His eyes were shining, like a poor man who had picked up a treasure. He was very happy.

He carefully picked up the word and observed it for a long time. Then he said, "this is not Xu Xiang's style. It seems that your attainments in this field are indeed very high. I feel inferior."

"The city Lord is too praised."

Yang Xuan wanted to salute again, but he was held up by a pair of invisible hands.

"Well, I'm not such a cliche. You'll be exempted from gifts when you see me later."

"But the book says..."

"What I said by a city Lord doesn't have a broken book?"

The old city Lord's eyes suddenly stared and choked the second half of Yang Xuan's sentence back. Seeing that Yang Xuan didn't dare to speak, he nodded with satisfaction and continued to appreciate the words in his hand.

After a long time, he seemed to find something. With a slight sigh, he put the words back on the table.

"Yang Xiaoyou, you seem to be missing something."

"Please make it clear."

The old city Lord stroked his beard, waved back with one hand, and the rice paper in the corner flew over.

"This picture is not impressive, but your words are not impressive."

Then he saw his fingertips, and the words flew to Yang Xuan's body.

"I just watched you write with great momentum, but now, it's not one tenth of what's on the paper. The shape and meaning have come, but the momentum has not come."

He shook his head in disappointment, took the inkstone in one hand and ground it again.

"Write another one."

"Yes."

"There are still some deficiencies. Write another one."

"Well... Yes."

"Momentum! Momentum! Integrate your momentum into it and write another one!"

"Yes."

In the cabin, the sunlight on the table gradually expanded and elongated, and shone on the wall.

The rice paper in the corner was stacked more and more, and the inkstone was ground again and again. Even the neat and soft Langhao pen appeared a little messy.

"City... Lord, I really can't write."

Yang Xuan looked at his trembling right hand and said angrily.

The old city Lord's face was still that kind smile, like the spring breeze, but now it fell in his eyes, but it was like a fierce ghost who ate people.

"Well... This momentum is getting less and less. It's not as good as the first pair."

The smile on the old city owner's face gradually dispersed. As soon as he waved, the words on the table flew to the corner of the wall and became a member of the thick stack.

Yang Xuan's face was a little ashamed. All afternoon, the city Lord was explaining to him how to integrate momentum into his pen and into his son's room, but he still didn't understand after listening to it for so long.

"Well, I'm itchy after you've been writing for so long."

The old city Lord seemed to hate iron but not steel. He sighed and stretched out his hand. The wolf pen immediately fell into his hand.

A little ink flew up from the inkstone and integrated into Langhao before Yang Xuan reacted.

The old city Lord took a look at the tip of his pen, nodded with satisfaction, and immediately dropped it on the rice paper without startling momentum or sharp action.

It seemed that he was not writing, but rowing. His wrists shook gently left and right. Soon, four big characters appeared.

Yang Xuan frowned and looked at him seriously.

An amazing momentum rushed out of it, like a general on the battlefield, rushed out with a dying heart, and jumped in front of him.

The real murderous opportunity surprised him. His cold hair stood up, and he couldn't help patting forward with one hand. His aura gathered in his palm and brought up the wind.

At the next moment, he only felt an exciting spirit. The killing opportunity in front of him suddenly dissipated and invisible. There was no general. Some were just the city master's pen.

"Is this... Is this an illusion?"

Yang Xuan was stunned and hurriedly asked. The feeling just now was really too much. At this time, there was still lingering aura in his palm.

The old city owner turned around and said, "the killing just now is not an illusion. If you don't resist, you will be hurt."

"How possible!"

Yang Xuan took a step back. Rao was calm and frightened at this time. A pair of words written casually can hurt people? And the almost real killing, which makes people shudder.

"This is momentum."

The old city Lord came over and stretched out his hand, but a little golden awn condensed in a moment.