The poor scholar sighed to the sky, held his pen with his hair and drank thick ink, hung up a brand new hanging scroll and quickly applied it on it.

A moment later, a scholar who was whistling to the sky appeared on the scroll.

The scholar's back opened his arms and faced him, as if roaring, questioning, venting his regret and unwillingness to the sky.

What's all strange is that the poor scholar painted two pitch-black wings on the back of the scholar in the painting, flapping, as if he was about to tear apart the sky, and took the scholar straight to the ninth level and questioned the Emperor of Heaven.

After painting with great pleasure, the scholar used his hands to force his hands. With a "bang", the purple bamboo wolf covered in ink broke and fell.

He himself lowered his head, swooped, and crashed into the painting that had just been painted but had not dried.

"don't want!"

Ning Feng shouted loudly.

He vaguely guessed what would happen, and what was even more strange was that he actually shouted out loud.

Almost at the same time, the invisible force that bound Ning Feng's action dissipated. He ignored the existence of tiles, beams, etc., and fell straight from the roof and fell into the study.

"Bang!"

Ning Feng, who was about to face down, fell to his face without recognition, had recovered his movements, and immediately controlled his body, landed on the ground with his feet, and stepped heavily on the ground.

"It's too late..."

Ning Feng stopped moving.

He saw it real in the air. The poor scholar bumped into the hanging painting head-on, and did not break the painting, nor did he hit the painting, but instead ran into a door, and disappeared into the study the moment he hit the painting out of thin air.

At that time, the broken pen was still rolling on the ground, and the wind was barely falling.

“Huh?”

Ning Feng's pupils suddenly shrank.

He saw that in the hanging scroll, the scholar's head was rich and bright red, like a bald pen, smeared on it hard, flowing down, soaking under the scholar's feet.

Ning Feng blinked his eyes, and the situation on the scholar's head in the hanging scroll was like a scene where a man was hit and killed on the wall.

"That's it, dead?"

Ning Feng swallowed, feeling that this was very strange.

All the previous things were fine, but in the last scene, the scholar drew himself, then he hit the painting and disappeared. Then the self in the painting began to flow, and he was no longer alive...

How supernatural, how weird, how to understand?

Ning Feng felt his head hurt a little.

Looking around, the pictures of the beauty were faintly rendered in the mist, appearing and looming. It was not like looking at the picture, but it was like the scenery of the mountains after the rain. When the mountains were empty after the rain, he was in the window, looking at the beautiful woman in the window through the window.

"Can't it..."

Ning Feng's heart skipped a beat, and he felt as if he had some insight. His eyes quickly swept across the pictures of beauty, and finally fell on the pictures of scholars. His last scene was played back in his mind.

"I understand a little bit."

Ning Feng touched his chin and said to himself: "It's just a scholar who is obviously just an ordinary scholar. The problem is that..."

His eyes moved down and fell on the pen that was broken into two pieces on the ground.

Just at this moment, a mutation arises.

The purple bamboo wolf hair that had been broken into two pieces suddenly became like a life. Both pieces were squirming and connected together with difficulty. Then a stream of ink flowed and returned to the same old state.

The next moment, the restored purple bamboo wolf hair jumped up from the ground, and the wolf hair was still drinking ink, and it floated in front of Ning Feng.

"It's true."
Chapter completed!