As the sun rose, the cold fog finally dispersed. People looked out through the fog and saw over a dozen snow foot monsters lying on the ground, dead.
Among them, the snow foot monster of a higher state was killed by Bai Zao with a magic treasure, and only half of its body was left. Four snow foot monsters with their heads pierced through were killed by Yao Songshan with the Aoyama swordsmanship. The rest of the snow foot monsters were even more miserable. Their limbs were broken and their armor was cracked. Green blood was flowing everywhere.
The stones stained by the poisonous blood were bubbling and making sizzling sounds. It was a horrible scene.
What was more shocking was that there were more snow foot monsters' corpses in the periphery. There were one or two corpses every hundred feet, and the corpses extended to thousands of feet away.
People could even vaguely see similar scenes in the distance.
How many snow foot monsters were killed?
People finally realized that the disappearance of the sound outside the fog last night wasn't because something had happened. Was it because he was chasing after the snow foot monsters?
They looked at Jing Jiu with shock in their eyes, including Yao Songshan.
The fog last night was so cold that it could even block the spiritual senses, which was extremely disadvantageous to cultivators. However, the snow foot monsters could fight with their instincts and were not affected.
How did he do all of this?
…
…
Jing Jiu and Bai Zao stood side by side.
One was wearing a white robe.
The other was wearing a white robe.
The young people smiled when they saw this scene. Who wouldn't like such a beautiful scene?
The proud daughter of Zhongzhou School and the genius swordsman of Aoyama Sect. They were a perfect match.
"Who do you support?"
The female disciple of Platanus Sect stared at Yao Songshan and asked with her eyes wide open.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Yao Songshan said.
The female disciple of Platanus Sect curled her lips to show her disdain.
Yao Songshan thought expressionlessly. Even though Miss Bai Zao was a good person, he had to support Senior Uncle Zhao.
…
…
The scene of Jing Jiu and Bai Zao standing side by side was beautiful, but that was not what they saw.
The ground was covered with the remains of the Snow Foot Monsters, and the green juice that was even more disgusting than the moss was smeared on the white snow.
But they didn't care, and their initial conversation had nothing to do with the scene in front of them.
"That night, you promised me that you wouldn't touch Bulao Lin for the time being." Bai Zao said.
Jing Jiu appeared just in time. She didn't even use her Gold Core and her injuries weren't serious. She quickly recovered after taking some medicinal pills.
Jing Jiu thought about what she had said that night and said, "I didn't touch Bulao Lin."
Bai Zao looked at him and said seriously, "You don't have proof that Shi Fengchen is involved in this matter, so you shouldn't touch him."
Jing Jiu said, "You don't have any evidence."
What he meant was that many people in the Zhongzhou School suspected that Shi Fengchen was forced to his death by Jing Jiu.
Bai Zao said, "You should know very well that Shi Fengchen alone couldn't persuade Bulao Lin."
"Yes," Jing Jiu said, "I know he has connections with the people of Jing Xin's manor."
The expression on Bai Zao's face grew even more serious, as he asked, "Are you going to touch the Crown Prince without proof?"
Jing Jiu said, "As a matter of fact, it was I who touched him first, and that's why these things happened."
Therefore, whether from the Crown Prince's point of view or from the other side, Zhao Layue was assassinated because of Jing Jiu.
Bai Zao felt that she needed to think about the content of this statement carefully later. She stopped discussing this issue and pointed to the holes in the snow, saying, "The Snow Foot Monsters last night didn't come out from the valley; they came out from deep underground."
"What are you trying to say?" Jing Jiu asked.
Bai Zao said, "The Iron Thread Worm you encountered and the Snow Foot Monster last night are probably the things left behind in the deep underground during the monster invasion."
"They could sleep for so long?" Jing Jiu asked.
"As long as they were buried deep enough," Bai Zao said.
"Then why did they come out?" Jing Jiu asked. "They couldn't have been awakened by the Cultivation battles."
Bai Zao said, "I don't think they wanted to attack us, but to return to the Snowy Kingdom. They just happened to run into us. Even though I don't know what happened in the Snowy Kingdom, it must be a big deal for the monsters that have been sleeping for hundreds of years to wake up all at once. "
Jing Jiu thought that he really should come and take a look.
…
…
At noon, the sunlight was too strong, not suitable for meditation and cultivation.
The masters and disciples of various sects walked out from the courtyards of the Nishiyama House one after another. They strolled to the roofed corridor and admired the dozens of paintings of plum blossoms, as they had done in the past few days.
Of course, they were most concerned about the performance of their own disciples. Apart from them, they were also concerned about Lo Huainan, Bai Zao, and Tong Lu. Bai Zao's painting of plum blossoms was praised by the Zen Master. Lo Huainan and Tong Lu's painting had the most plum blossoms, and it was said that they had traveled the furthest into the snowland.
Jing Jiu's painting of plum blossoms had also received a lot of attention, but there had been no change for several days, so people's interest had gradually faded.
The painter walked out from the tall building built against the mountain, and the crowd followed him. They found that the painter finally stopped in front of Jing Jiu's painting of plum blossoms, and they couldn't help but feel surprised.
Had that team finally found something new? Or … had someone died again?
What was strange was that the painter didn't pick up his brush and start painting the plum blossoms. Instead, he stared at the paper, which was mostly blank, with a blank expression on his face.
After a while, he glanced at the file in his hand, as if he wanted to confirm it, and then he continued to stare blankly at the painting.
Finally, a Cultivator couldn't help but ask, "What's going on?"
The painter said with a distressed expression, "I don't know how to paint."
Hearing this, the crowd was somewhat taken aback, thinking that whether it was adding plum blossoms or crossing out names, it was just a matter of moving the brush. What was so difficult about it?
The wind blew.
A dozen or so important figures of the Cultivation world came to the scene.
The Sect Master of Kunlun, the Governor of Ōzawa, the abbot of the Baotong Zen Temple, Nan Wang, and the Zhongzhou School, which had rarely appeared in the past few days, also had an elder in the realm of Deification. The absence of the bell meant that there was no need to clear the scene. The Cultivators bowed and made way for them to enter the corridor. They didn't leave, feeling even more baffled, wondering what had happened.
Nan Wang looked at the painter and asked, "Why haven't you painted it yet?"
The painter said with a bitter smile, "I really don't know how to paint it."
"Should I give it a try?"
He Zhan walked in from the courtyard.
His talent was needless to say, and he had won second place in the painting competition at the Plum Meeting. But for some reason, he didn't participate in the Cultivation tournament this year.
The Sect Master of Kunlun looked at him and said icily, "You've done something."
Nan Wang said, "Paint it better."
He Zhan bowed with a faint smile, and walked to the front of the painting. He took the file from the painter's hand and lowered his head to read it.
He had already guessed what was going on, but he was still bewildered when he read the words on the file. Soon, a bitter smile appeared on his face, as he thought it was no wonder that the painting was so difficult to paint.
He thought for a while while looking at the painting, then took the brush from the painter's hand, dipped it in some cinnabar, and waved it toward the painting with a slight shake of his wrist.
Pah, pah, pah, pah!!! The frequent sounds of the brush falling like raindrops rang out.
The bright red paint fell on the white paper, forming speckles that looked like raindrops.
The crowd was startled, wondering what He Zhan was doing.
He Zhan didn't pay any attention to them. He picked up another thin brush, dipped it in some ink, and continued painting with a calm mind.
A line of ink appeared among the red speckles on the paper.
The line of ink was very thin and faint. If one didn't look at it carefully, they might not even notice it.
Gradually, the crowd realized what he was doing.
It was a plum branch stretching to the distance.
What about the bright red speckles? Were they the plum blossoms on the branch?
How many plum blossoms were there?
It was quiet in the corridor.
The crowd was shocked speechless.
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