Deep in Muling Peak, a loft more than ten feet high is hidden in the clouds and mist. This is the important place of Kongsang Immortal Gate - Zangling Pavilion. Ordinary disciples cannot step on their feet if they have nothing to do.

In the deep and quiet pavilion, rows of bookshelves are neatly arranged, with bamboo books, blue paper books, and leather scrolls on them. Of course, more jade slips are still jade, simple but clean, and people should take care of them from time to time.

Old Qin opened his eyes, got up from the recliner, picked up his cigarette pot and walked towards the door.

The rain outside the pavilion had just stopped for a while, and the grass mixed with the breath of dust came in through the crack of the door, refreshing.

Outsiders think that the Zangling Pavilion is an immortal access control area, and Mr. Qin, who is responsible for guarding the Zangling Pavilion, is also extraordinary. But for Mr. Qin, all he does every day is to open the door at Chen time and close the door at midnight. At most, he will take care of books and jade slips to prevent those little guys who do not listen to discipline from secretly taking them out.

This is like this every day, every year. When Mr. Qin was young, he always felt that he could not do such a boring job for three years, but he didn't expect that once he entered the Zangling Pavilion, he had not gone out for a whole hundred years.

Thinking of this, Old Qin sighed slightly, took a sip of the smoke pot, and the spicy smoke drifted into his throat and also penetrated into the layers of wrinkles on his face.

He slowly moved the door bolt, stood aside, and pushed open two ebony doors. The light from the outside suddenly shone into the dim Tibetan Ling Pavilion, with extremely fine dust floating.

Old Qin narrowed his eyes and looked at Mu Ling Peak in the distance from Kongsang Immortal Gate. He thought to himself that there seemed to be another spiritual sacrifice meeting a few days ago, and he thought that another year had passed unknowingly. He took a sip of cigarettes and was about to turn around and lie back on his bench, but he heard a clear voice:

"Senior, Chen Mo, a disciple of Lingzhi Hall, broke through the first level of Qi training a few days ago and came to seek spiritual skills."

Yiqing was standing outside the door and bowing respectfully to himself. Old Qin glanced at the young man with his turbid eyes. He was indeed wearing a blue shirt in Lingzhitang, but it was a little wet. It must have been here for a long time and was wet.

Mr. Qin had actually noticed someone waiting outside the pavilion, but he didn't care much. He didn't open the door until dawn. Seeing that this person was quite polite, Mr. Qin waved and signaled him to come in. He held the cigarette pot on his back and slowly walked towards the recliner.

Looking at the slightly hunched old man, Chen Mo frowned a little. The moment he was scrutinized by him, he felt like he was seen through all over his body. What puzzled him even more was that the spiritual power in the dantian seemed to have become a little restless and strange with this gaze.

However, Chen Mo did not speak much, but silently raised the corner of his long shirt and crossed the high threshold of the Zangling Pavilion. When he looked up, he saw that the old man was lying on the bench, shaking.

The bookshelves in the pavilion are lined up and arranged neatly. There is also a smell of decay in the nose, giving people a quaint feeling.

He slowly walked forward and came to a bookshelf, preparing to take off a jade slip from it, but suddenly the old man's voice came from behind:

"Let go, that's not what you saw."

Chen Mo turned around and saw the old man leisurely closing his eyes, lifting up a thin index finger and pointing to the depths of the Zangling Pavilion.

Looking in the direction, I saw countless books and jade slips piled up in the corner of the pavilion, almost piled up into a hill, with a lot of dust on it, and it seemed that no one had paid attention to it all year round.

He frowned slightly and thought to himself that no wonder his senior brother said that it was useless to receive spiritual techniques. Just look at the rough way of preservation, you can tell that the records in these books and jade slips are definitely not useful things.

Although the old man didn't speak, Chen Mo knew his meaning. It was nothing more than the spiritual skills that could be obtained after breaking through the first level of Qi training. He could only choose from this pile of books and jade slips.

Thanking the old man, Chen Mo came to this corner without thinking it was dirty. He sat down cross-legged, picked up a book and looked it out.

The old man behind him opened his eyes again at some point and looked at the little guy, with a hint of interesting meaning in his muddy eyes.

The sect does have rules. After breaking through the first level of Qi training, the disciples can come to the Zangling Pavilion to choose a spiritual art. But for a hundred years, how could Mr. Qin not know that the spiritual arts that the disciples can choose are only within the range of this pile of rags.

He had seen those disciples with high self-esteem come to seek spiritual skills and pretend to be respectful, but most of them looked at the pile of books and jade slips, and their faces felt as uncomfortable as if they had eaten a fly. After rolling their eyes, they quickly asked for a reason to leave, and never came again.

After staying at the pavilion for a long time and never going out, Mr. Qin was happy to see these disciples being defeated and used as a pastime.

Although the little guy in front of him came very early and looked very diligent, I wonder how long he could last in front of this pile of things?

Thinking of this, he closed his eyes again, rested leisurely, and ignored it.

On the other hand, Chen Mo couldn't help but frown even deeper when he opened the first book.

"Blowing the wind palm, inferior product, created by the firecracker of Kongsang Xianmen."

Seeing this introduction, Chen Mo knew that no wonder these spiritual techniques could be read casually. It turned out that they were so inequality that the person who founded it did not even have a name left.

After reading this book, he felt a little amused. This spiritual technique only taught people how to mobilize spiritual energy and blow the fire in the stove more vigorously, and there was no other effect.

“This is really…”

Chen Mo didn't think much, sighed and put it aside, picked up the next book to look.

"Stone-breaking fist, a poor spiritual technique, the author is unknown."

"Pili Hand, inferior art of sub-leeward"

"Chiyang Jue..."

Time passed slowly, and Chen Mo looked through the pile of ragged books one by one, and suddenly realized that time passed. Outside the pavilion, the sunlight after the rain gradually became brighter and gradually dimmed, and it was already a day passed.

Like the book "Blowing Wind Palm", these so-called spiritual techniques are of the same quality. Although some names are so full of vigor, after reading them, you will find that they are still extremely useless.

Chen Mo only felt very strange. Could it be that the spiritual arts rewarded by the sect are the piles of things in front of him? I believe that even if someone reluctantly chooses one, he will not have the intention to practice such things. Wouldn’t that be wasting his disciple’s time in vain?

Old Qin, who was resting in peace, sat up at some point and held a pot of tea in his hand. During this period, he glanced at Chen Mo a few times and thought that this little guy could hold on for a day when he saw these things, which was much better than many others.

Seeing that it was getting late, he coughed lightly: "It's not too late, if you want to see you come back tomorrow."

Hearing Mr. Qin's words, Chen Mo woke up from his dream, got up and rubbed his slightly sore eyes, apologized, and bowed to Mr. Qin, and then he left.

Close the ebony door of the Lingge, Old Qin glanced at the stack of books that Chen Mo had read, and found that the little guy was serious all day long and even read a lot.

I just understand that these books and jade slips are just boring and useless things, and I probably won’t come back tomorrow.

But unexpectedly, when Mr. Qin opened the door as usual at Chen Shi the next day, he found that Chen Mo was standing respectfully outside the door again.

"Here's here again? Didn't you see enough yesterday?" He asked casually, and without waiting for Chen Mo to answer, he turned around and walked away with his hands behind his back, making way.

Chen Mo didn't care about the old man's attitude, he came just for those books. When he stepped into the Tibetan Ling Pavilion again, Chen Mo went straight to the pile of hills he had looked through yesterday, sat down cross-legged, and read it directly as before.

When he returned to his residence yesterday, Chen Mo was a little tired after reading a book for a day, and was a little disappointed with the so-called spiritual arts given by the sect. However, after drinking a bowl of Linggu porridge and practicing for a night, he felt that he could not just let it go, so he came to the door early and started to read it.

After reading this pile of books, it would take ten days to see even ten lines at a glance. Many disciples in the sect had persisted for several days, but after finding that these books did not have complete spiritual techniques, they would not waste time here.

But Chen Mo persisted day by day, and many disciples came to collect spiritual techniques and techniques during this period. Seeing Chen Mo studying hard, many people recognized this guy as Chen Mo who was the one who came back on the Spirit Sacrifice Day, and was a little curious about what he was doing.

When they saw the pile of dusty books in front of him, they were both amused and laughed. They hadn't read these books before. They recorded half-waste spiritual techniques. Looking at these things was a waste of time. Is Chen Mo smart or stupid?

Chen Mo has never cared about other people's gazes. The more he reads these books, the more he feels strange it is. It is indeed boring and it is not easy to read them for a day. After reading them for so many days, Chen Mo has long known that the records of these books are indeed all useless things. But what Chen Mo couldn't understand is how could the Immortal Sect give them the reward after the disciples broke through the first level of Qi training?

But he was not ready to give up. Since one thing had begun, Chen Mo would not give up halfway.

Day by day, Mr. Qin looked at Chen Mo's back more and more times, and his expression became more and more strange when he opened the door and saw Chen Mo being there again.

When Chen Mo persisted until the fifth day and appeared outside the Zangling Pavilion on time, Mr. Qin couldn't help but put down the cigarette pot and asked:

"I said, do you have a problem with your brain? Can't you see that these are not 'techniques' and 'spiritual techniques'?"

Chen Mo was stunned. This was probably the longest sentence Mr. Qin had ever said to him in the past few days, and he replied respectfully:

"Disciple saw it."

"Then what are you still watching here?" Old Qin stood in the threshold and stared at Chen Mo and asked.

"If the sect asks you to see, the disciples will see." Chen Mo replied honestly, not feeling inappropriate.

"Hmph." I don't know if it's anger or a smile, Old Qin turned around without comment, walked away with a hunched back, and lay on the bench as usual.

Chen Mo also entered the Zangling Pavilion as usual and began to look through the pile of books again. He had read more and more books, almost half of which were not very useful, but Chen Mo removed the dross and took the essence, which increased his knowledge by one or two points.

The day passed quickly. What was abnormal was that when the sun had just set, Chen Mo stood up, patted the dust on his clothes, and prepared to leave.

Old Qin next to him was a little surprised. This little guy didn't know how to leave until he drove him away for five days. Why did he calm down early today?

"Finally give up? Don't watch it?"

Old Man Qin leaned against the lounge chair and said without raising his eyelids, as if he had expected such a situation.

Unexpectedly, Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, then shook his head and replied respectfully:

"I'll be disturbing again tomorrow."

"You kid..." Old Qin didn't expect Chen Mo would answer so appropriately. Since he knew he was disturbing me, why would he come tomorrow?

"Okay, okay, go quickly."

Old Qin waved his hand like he was chasing a fly, as if he wanted Chen Mo to leave quickly.

But looking at Chen Mo's back, a few shimmers appeared in Old Qin's turbid eyes. He turned his wrist and a few more thin red jade slips appeared in his hand from somewhere.

With a throwaway, these jade slips flew into the pile of books that Chen Mo had not read.
Chapter completed!