Chapter 30, writing is like practicing a knife
Although he also had the experience of studying in his previous life, he was thrown into a Siberian training camp by his father before he graduated from primary school and received cruel training.
He also had some cultural classes at the Siberian training camp. It's just that these courses are related to cold weapons and hot weapons. How can they touch such advanced knowledge as four books and five classics or calligraphy practice?
He frowned and meditated for a long time, but there was nothing he could do.
Just as he grabbed the sheep's pen, his inspiration suddenly appeared. He thought of his own blood blade in his previous life - Bi Xue, and thought of the unity of human knives.
He straightened his body, grabbed the sheep's pen, and recalled the feeling of human knife unity in his previous life... A quarter of an hour later, he suddenly opened his eyes, and the sheep's pen fell on the white paper, and a small regular script leaped on the paper.
Slowly... His breath was calm and smooth, and the anxiety between his eyebrows disappeared. Every time he wrote without thinking, a line of delicate regular scripts seemed to slowly flow out like running water and fell on the paper.
Forget that what he was holding was the pen in his hand, there was only a blood blade in his heart, only his blue snow. He engraved exquisite small regular scripts with knives in his heart.
His breathing was as steady as a mountain, and the words he wanted to write flashed in his mind, and his hands waved. The faster he wrote, the more comfortable he became!
He... is not writing, but practicing his own knife!
A white paper is a battlefield, and Ling Xiaolou waved the blood blade and killed enemies one by one. In his eyes, the exquisite small regular fonts are no longer simple fonts, but enemies, enemies killed by him.
The speed of killing is getting faster and faster, the change of breathing, the pause of the knife, the pause of the knife, and the pause of stabbing into the enemy's body, all of which are completed in acceleration and deceleration.
Full of a rhythm, full of a sense of beauty!
The beauty of killing!
No, maybe it is most appropriate to describe it with art!
The powerful enemy needs to be slashed a few more times, and the weak enemy will be fatal. When the knife trembles, it should dance with it, and when the knife is hard, it should be strengthened. The enemy should not hesitate when he is in front of him, and the enemy should move like the wind when he is behind him!
The so-called momentum is like rushing to the waves!
Suddenly, the essence lurking in the air sea in his body slowly flowed out, and was pulled by his knife method to swim in the meridians in his body.
A group of Jingyuan, the size of a baby's fist, runs along the knife operation route recorded in the Blood Record. Ling Xiaolou practiced this knife method to the extreme in his previous life - "Bixue", the name of the knife is Bixue, and the knife formula is also called "Bixue".
The ink he wrote is like the water of the Milky Way, falling from the nine heavens, with ups and downs and magnificent atmosphere. His speed is getting faster and faster, and his momentum is getting more and more powerful.
At this time, there are only twinkling enemies in his eyes, one by one by him under the knife. The enemy is the words in his heart, and his knife is the sheep pen in his hand!
The combination of man and knife is invincible!
The combination of people and pens can guide the country!
The speed of the essence flowing in the meridians in his body is also getting faster and faster, as if it turns into a blood knife and fights in his meridians.
The night was getting darker and darker, and the ink was gone. Ling Xiaolou stopped to grind slowly, which was also regarded as a rest. After grinding, he continued to fight until he was dizzy and sound.
In the quiet room, only the sound of sand writing was heard. No one disturbed, no one made noise, and Ling Xiaolou was immersed in the world of killing the enemy.
His heart was getting more and more murderous, and more and more people were killed. Without any boredom, an indescribable pleasure surged out.
Maybe it is the infection of this pleasure. He does not have a trace of murder and anger, but is surrounded by a trace of bookishness.
Time passed quickly, and the night left and the day came. Unconsciously, the last word fell on it.
With a crisp crack, the sheep pen in his hand broke from the middle.
Throw away the broken sheep pen, he sat cross-legged, and a trace of thought communicated with the fast-moving Jingyuan. He was suddenly stunned, and a surprise hit his heart.
"Jingyuan has grown again? And it has become more pure!" He muttered.
"My Bixue is also back..."
Guided the double-growing essence into the sea of gas. Ling Xiaolou looked up and looked out of the window, and the sky was already bright. Looking at the paper scattered on the ground, he seemed to have had a long dream.
In the dream, he incarnated as a blood demon, waved the blue knife, and killed enemies under the knife. The number of people killed this night is equal to the number of people he killed in ten years.
"It's just that this feeling is really great... It turns out that I still haven't changed, and I still like killing so much... The only pity is that killing like this has no blood and essence to absorb..."
After meditating for a long time and hearing the footsteps of my mother outside, I got up and picked up the paper sprinkled on the ground one by one.
Looking at the small regular characters on white paper, Ling Xiaolou seemed to see a bloody hell. It turned out that unconsciously, he also wrote his swordsmanship and the artistic conception of killing into the words, making these words come to life.
The mother's soft voice sounded outside the door, and Ling Xiaolou put the paper on the table and went out. After practicing the five-bird opera several times, he was so refreshed that he couldn't see that he had not slept all night.
After breakfast, he picked up the thick paper on the table and went to ethnic studies.
......
The big tree covers the heat, and the sound of books in the spacious and bright classroom is still the same.
Ling Song didn't read. It's not that he didn't read well and didn't want to read, but he looked up at the door and his eyes were full of doubts...
It's almost time for class, and sir is almost there. Can Lingxiaolou complete the homework assigned by Mr. Li? Will he really be kicked away by Mr. Li for not finishing his homework? Or he doesn't plan to come at all?
He shook his head slightly, and Ling Xiaolou was not that kind of person.
After Ling Xiaolou left a deep impression on him that day, he knew that although Ling Xiaolou did something unscrupulous, he was stubborn and stubborn to his bones. Although he is not very good at reading, he is very good at compassing people. Whether he can complete his homework or not, Ling Xiaolou will definitely come.
Even if he is not finished and is kicked out in front of so many ethnic students, Ling Xiaolou will definitely come.
This is his intuition.
When he was thinking, he saw a teenager in a white Confucian shirt and full of Facebook slowly walking in from the door. At that moment, the reading sound in the classroom lowered, and the classroom became extremely quiet in the blink of an eye. Even if a needle falls to the ground, you will hear the sound.
"You are really here!" Ling Song shouted and saw Ling Xiaolou nodding and greeting him with a modest smile on his face.
Ling Song was stunned, not because Ling Xiaolou greeted him, but because he felt that Ling Xiaolou was a little different. But he couldn't say anything different for a moment.
......
PS: Dear friends, Wu Sanqisi thank you for your support for the Peerless Blood God. Without you, we could not have achieved such good results. Thank you... Let's continue to fight hard. Today's fourth update, this is the second update! The next update is at 6:30!