Chapter 203: The Master's Misplaced Liege

But Chu Wanning didn't stop and didn't look back.

He couldn't turn back.

He gritted his teeth and held back, but the tears still flowed down his face.

It's really too aggravating.

But what can you do, even if you are aggrieved?

Defend

angrily rebuke

How could he have the face to tell Mo Ran the truth when it had come to this. Did he have to explain when Mo Ran resented him and mocked him, or did he want to earn the phrase "to take over" after "to do the same thing"?

He left.

That night by the Naihe Bridge, by the yellow spring, the conversation between the master and the disciple, I don't know if it went down the mountains, down the rivers and into the underworld.

If the young man, who was as gentle as a lotus flower, were to hear such a conversation, I wonder if he would feel sad about such a disagreement between his disciples.

Mo Ran stood alone by the river bank for a while, thinking that perhaps it was fate that made it so.

Chu Wanning suspected others, but not him alone.

It was a coincidence that Chu Wanning's Heavenly Question had been called out for use when he encountered an evil spirit during a patrol in the back of the mountain.

The golden sky-questions glittered in the white of Chu Wanning, the vine whip that could have trapped him and strangled the later Fairy Tramper emperor, shining brightly all the time.

Chu Wanning, however, was not taken down and was not tried.

Mo Ran escaped the heavenly question and left slowly, alone, walking deep into the thither whisking bamboo forest, to the thickest part of the night, and finally being swallowed up by the darkness, completely.

Since then, he has been premeditatedly and secretly refining chess pieces - two, four, ten.

More and more.

He planted them one by one into the disciples of the top of death and life, making them his eyes and ears, his minions, his hidden arrows.

After the initial joy, Mo Ran gradually became irritable and gloomy, and he became increasingly irritable, irritable and ungrateful.

It's too slow.

He's not enough.

Fearing that Chu Wanning might detect any movement, he dared not expend all his strength to do the Zhenlong chess piece as he had done the first time. He did one at a time, leaving half his energy behind, and he stopped sabre-rattling, instead finally putting away his finger claws and returning to Chu Wanning's seat to follow Chu Wanning's practice.

He calculated, thinking that Chu Wanning could help him improve his cultivation the fastest, laying the bricks for his first step towards the end of the earth's dry bones. What's not to like?

On this day, he had practised too hard and was so exhausted that he accidentally lost control of himself from the slender treetops and fell straight down.

In a flash, Chu Wanning swept past in his white suit, grabbing Mo Ran in his arms but unable to summon the boundary for a moment, and they fell together under the tree. Chu Wanning was crushed squarely by Mo Ran, grunting in pain, and Mo Ran opened his eyes to see that Chu Wanning's hand was bruised, a bloody gash, the flesh turned inside out.

Mo Ran stared at the gash, his heart actually cruel and excited, his mind had already started to twist at that time, he didn't even feel much gratitude and guilt, he just thought the blood was so pretty, why not, just a little more.

But he knew it wasn't the right time, he couldn't reveal his grim and ghastly face under the hood just yet, so he wiped Chu Wanning's wounds and bandaged him.

Neither of them spoke, each with their own thoughts, and the clean white gauze was wrapped in many ways.

At the end, Mo Ran said meaningfully, "Master, thank you."

The sudden acknowledgement took Chu Wanning by surprise, and he lifted his eyes to look at Mo Ran's face, the sunlight pouring down on Mo Ran's face, the brown colour lightened by the glow.

At the time, Mo Ran was curious to know what Chu Wanning thought of his thank you.

Finally the prodigal son returns

Finally starting to make peace

But Chu Wanning said nothing, just dropped his eyelashes and lowered his cuffs.

The wind has picked up and the sun is shining just right.

In his previous life, he had never been able to see through his master, just as his master had misread him.

Further on, Mo Ran's powers grew stronger and stronger, and he had the amazing gift of using up half of his spiritual power to make one, two and then four pieces.

But it is not enough.

He wanted a million men, a force that could take the top of the dead and the living in one fell swoop and trample Chu Wanning underfoot.

Mo Ran is not good at counting, and the soon-to-be Fairy Tramper emperor, clutching his abacus, is snapping his beads at the table.

When Xue Meng came to see him, she happened to see this scene and asked curiously, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Settlement of accounts."

"What account"

Mo Ran paused for a moment, his eyes dark, before laughing, "Guess."

"I can't guess." Xue Meng walks over and picks up the book in front of him and looks at it, grumbling as he does so, "One three hundred and sixty-five days, three hundred and sixty-five four three hundred and sixty-five days what a mess this is."

Mo Ran said without moving a muscle, "I want to buy candy."

"Sugar"

"One of Yue Sheng Zhai's best sweets costs one penny, if you save one copper plate a day, you can buy three hundred and sixty-five sweets in three hundred and sixty-five days. If you can save four coppers a day, that's" he lowered his head, broke his fingers, couldn't count, shook his head again and cracked his head, "that's a thousand"

Xue Meng, who was faster than him at maths, said sharply, "One thousand four hundred and sixty sweets."

Mo Ran looked up, was quiet for a moment and said charmingly, "You're quick at counting."

Xue Meng, who was rarely complimented by him, froze for a moment and then laughed, "That's not true, after all, I grew up helping Mother weigh her medicine."

Mo Ran pondered a little and smiled, "I can't do the math, so why don't you do me a favour and do it for me?"

It had been a long time since Mo Ran had been so calm after Shi Mei's death, and Xue Meng looked at him against the sun with a slight pity.

So he nodded, pulled out a chair and sat down beside Mo Ran.

"Come on, say it."

Mo Ran said gently, "How many candies can you save in a year if you have ten a day?"

"Three thousand six hundred and fifty, no need to count this one, it's too easy."

Mo Ran then sighed and said, "Add some more, fifteen a day" and after thinking about it, and thinking that making that many pieces was beyond the limit, he asked, "Twelve a day. How many?"

"Four thousand four hundred and thirty-eight."

"I want five thousand, I'll have to wait a few more days."

"Still more." Xue Meng scratched his head, thinking a little hard, and asked, "What do you need so much sugar for and can't eat."

Mo Ran dropped his eyes, hiding the gloom under them, and said, "Next year the Top of Death and Life will have been a sect for thirty full years, and I want to give everyone a candy bar, always saving up from today."

Xue Meng froze: "How dare you have such a mind"

"Hmm." Mo Ran smiled, "You're in on the surprise."

"I won't need it." Xue Meng waved his hand, "I don't need your mouthful of candy, come on, let me go on and do the math for you, let's see how long it takes to save up before you can buy over five thousand candies."

As he said this, he took the abacus and, against the backdrop of the flowering trees by the window, carefully helped Mo Ran to do the calculations. Mo Ran looked on, her eyes shining, and after a long time, she smiled lightly and said, "Thank you."

Xue Meng grunted, counting and concentrating, and didn't pay much attention to him.

He sees only the crackling black beads, one or two of them, like black chess pieces, building up one by one, increasing little by little.

At that time, Xue Meng probably could not have imagined that what she was counting was not sugar at all, but a human life, a human life that overturned the summit of death and life.

Nor would he know that it was probably because his appearance at the window, helping out, had vaguely touched a faint trace of goodness in Mo Ran's heart.

So Mo Ran was mindful of his old feelings and did not give him a share of the 5,000 black pieces.

"It's taking so long," Mo Ran shook his head as he finally looked at the number Xue Meng had written down, "too long."

Xue Meng said, "Why don't I lend you some money?"

Mo Ran smiled, "No need."

After Xue Meng left, he pondered and poured over some scrolls, and gradually came up with a plan that became the prototype for Fairy Tramper's own "Formation of the Common Heart".

That night, Mo Ran refined ten pieces, all of which were mutilated and not used to the fullest extent to manipulate the living, or even the more powerful corpses.

With these ten pieces in his pocket, he went down the hill to Wuchang Town, humming a little tune, and arrived at a place on the outskirts of the town.

The crane returns to the slope.

A man dies on a crane and returns to the nine heavens. This is a beautiful and simple vision of the mortals, and to put it bluntly, this hill is a cemetery. In Wuchang Town, when someone dies, they are dragged to this hill for burial, and this is the town's burial place.

Mo Ran Without much delay, he walked between the rows of forested graves, his eyes sweeping over the words on the monuments. Soon, he stopped in front of a new grave with bright handwriting and fresh fruit buns in front of the headstone, he raised his hand and tightened his five fingers in the air, the sealing soil cracked with a bang, revealing a humble coffin in the gravel.

Because of some childhood experience, Mo Ran was not afraid of dead bodies and had no respect for them. He leapt down from the raised mound, summoned his stranger's knife, pried the nails out of the coffin and kicked the thin cover open.

The moonlight shone on the face of the body. Mo Ran put his head over and looked at the carcass lying inside as if he were weighing the colour of the pork.

It was an old thing, newly buried, wrapped in a birthday suit, with a dried face and sunken cheeks. Because of the poor conditions of the tomb and the lack of any money for embalming, the coffin was filled with a strong fishy smell and some of the flesh had begun to rot and produce maggots.

Frowning, Mo Ran put on his metal gloves sharply and lifted the old man out of the coffin by the neck. As the old man's head hung rigidly, Mo Ran's eyes were cold, and with a flash of light in his hand, he had punched the Zhenlong Black Son into his chest cavity.

"Good boy, good boy." Mo Ran touched the dead man's face affectionately, then suddenly backhanded the corpse and slapped it, laughing, "What are you doing standing up straight, my precious little grandson?"

That crippled Blackie could not control a strong corpse, but it was more than enough to manipulate an old man with legs as thin as a pockmark.

The corpse cackled and moved, and a pair of tightly closed eyes suddenly opened to reveal the grey shaded eyes within.

Mo Ran said, "Report your name."

"The name is not mine."

"Where to be"

"The earth is not by me."

"What is this day and night?"

"Age is not by me."

Mo Ran narrowed his eyes and weighed the nine remaining remnants in his hand. Sure enough, if he was only controlling a corpse of this level, there was no need to expend so much spiritual energy to make such a pure black.

He grinned, his pear swirls deep, blossoming into an extremely handsome smile. Slowly, he asks one last question.

"What do you want?"

The old man said hoarsely, "What I seek, to be a pawn for the king, to break my body and bones, I will not hesitate."

Mo Ran laughed out loud, pleased with the result, and he used the remaining pieces to make nine other corpses, picking fresh ones, freshly buried corpses that at the very least still had intact flesh hanging on them, not eaten away.

The corpses, old and sick, fell over when the wind blew, with no strength at all, but Mo Ran looked at them with a mad, leaping gleam in his eyes.

He pulled out ten small boxes from his Qiankun pouch and opened one of them, only to find two small blood-red worms curled up inside, male and female biting their tails, inseparable.

"Well, that's enough of that, I'll leave you two to it, and it's time for me to put it to use." Mo Ran said lazily, and then fiddling his fingers, he plucked away the two insects that were making love, took out the male of them, and said to the first old man who was made into a pawn, "Please, man, open your stinking mouth."

The old man obediently opened his mouth, revealing the rotting tongue inside, and Mo Ran threw the male worm into his mouth and said, "Eat it."

There was no resistance, no hesitation.

The corpse dutifully ate the soul-devouring insect into its stomach.

Mo Ran did as he had done and fed all the male worms in the box into the mouths of the corpses, then he said, "All right, lie back and all rest."

The next day, Mo Ran refined another ten black pieces, which were also mutilated and did not consume too much spiritual energy. After finishing the refining, he cast a spell to glue all the remaining female soul-devouring insects to the chess body, and then quietly punched them into some of the lower-ranked disciples.

Those disciples at first only felt some itching on their backs, but nothing special, and Mo Ran was in no hurry as he waited for

Wait for the female soul-devouring worms to lay their eggs and leave behind larvae that echo those of the males in the hearts of these disciples.

In this way, two unrelated pieces, through the adult and the larvae, become one-to-one counterparts of the child and the mother puppet.

It is like flying a kite, with the soft corpses acting as the kite string, holding Mo Ran on one end and the stronger Zhenlong black sons on the other. All Mo Ran has to do is give the order to the corpse hiding the adult, and the other corpse wrapped around the corresponding young, and it will do exactly the same thing.

It is called the common mind.

Before him, those who had access to the game of Zhenlong were all great masters, and those who did not lack the psychic power or the insanity to make thousands or even hundreds of thousands of Zhenlong pieces, so they did not need to think of such a speculative solution.

Mo Ran, who was obsessed with evil, didn't even realise that he had done something terrible that no one in Xianxia had done in tens of thousands of years.

Take an evil art that can destroy the world and make it accessible to everyone.

Everyone can do it.

"Brother."

Suddenly a violent shout rang out in his ears.

Mo Ran snapped awake and a bloodshot light had flashed before his eyes.

The Phoenix Mountain's evil spirit, buried in the heart of the earth, had turned into more vines than before, and slashed at it swiftly.

Xue Meng exclaimed, "How are you?"

"Mo Ran gasped, his gaze chilling as he stared at the tentacle-like blood vines on the ground, ready to pounce for a second attack, and stopped Xue Meng in a stern voice, "Quickly, go to the master and tell him to stop and tell everyone to stop. "

Blood dripped down his face as he clutched the heart in his hand, along with the pawn.

The mind whirled and a million thoughts came to mind.

There was nothing wrong with this being the formation of the common heart, and it was even used better than in his previous life. But no matter how much better it is, the principle is there, and only by keeping the mother on one side can the child on the other side exert its power.

Mo Ran's hand was squeezing the Zhenlong chess piece, and his whole body was still trembling, not because of the pain in his shoulder, but because of the chill and fear that spread from the soles of his feet.

There is no doubt that someone has been reborn.

So, does the one who is reborn know that he is also a stern ghost who has reborn in a new life If he knows, then

A chill ran down his back and Mo Ran was suddenly desperate.

It was as if the pale face of Fairy Tramper, with its nine tassels and crown rustling, its beady face and sneering grin, had come to life.

He stands tall, slouched in his dragon chair, he is cold and playful

"Patriarch Mo, run away, where can you escape to"

Visions of ghosts trailed up, a tidal wave of people he had killed in a previous life, a debt he owed in a previous life.

He saw the bloodied Shi Mei, the bloodless Chu Wanning, the hanging woman dragging three feet of white silk, the disembowelled man with his belly bleeding all over the floor.

All will come to claim their lives from him.

"You can't hide from it sooner or later."

"Someone already knows what kind of nasty soul you have inside your shell, and you will never be able to live again."

Mo Ran closes his eyes.

If the person behind the curtain really knew that he was also reborn, what would he do if that person revealed all his past?

He didn't even dare to think about it anymore.