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He murmured hoarsely, trying to change the topic: "I can't figure out how Xu Shuanglin did it. That was the dragon tamed by the master..."

But his shoulders were shaking more and more.

Jiang Xi remained stiff and his expression was dull, but finally he reached out and patted Nangong Si on the shoulder. He seemed to want to comfort Nangong Si, but he had never comforted anyone before. In the end, he just said: "It doesn't matter, everyone has his own destiny. Although you and your father have reached this situation, there were still father and son." One game, look at me, I have no heirs in the year of my destiny. Be more open-minded."

After saying this, of course Nangong Si ignored him. He himself felt dry, and it seemed worse if he said it than if he didn't say it.

Jiang Xi stood up, slightly embarrassed: "I'm going to look elsewhere. You rest for a while. It's time to move on later."

"..."

"By the way, where is the place ahead?"

Nangong Si said in a muffled voice: "Dragon Soul Pond."

"What is this for?"

"That is the blood pool for worshiping the spirit of the evil dragon." Nangong Si said, "The spirit of the evil dragon sleeps in the pool. Every year, people from the Confucian Feng Sect must worship it."

Jiang Xi frowned a little after hearing this, and finally said, "I hope nothing happens again over there."

Everyone rested in the front hall for half an hour. The wounded and those who had lost too much spiritual power gradually recovered with the help of the healing monks.

Jiang Xi looked around at the "good" and "evil" figures made by Xu Shuanglin on both sides. They were two extremes, and the frown between his brows became tighter.

What would Xu Shuanglin do with such a completely useless thing? Does it look good?

Listening to the words of Nangong Si who was made into a chess piece, it seems that Xu Shuanglin regards himself as the emperor, and regards these Zhenlong puppets, divided into black, white, good and evil, as his subjects?

He walked around looking at the flowers, and finally came to Nangong Liu. Nangong Liu was sitting on his bamboo basket, slowly peeling oranges.

Jiang Xi paused for a moment, then suddenly leaned over and asked without giving up what he had already asked him before: "Can you take us to His Majesty's place?"

Nangong Liu still gave the same answer as before: "Your Majesty has your Majesty's business to do, how can you just say see him?"

"..." Jiang Xi rolled her sleeves and said displeasedly, "It's of no use at all. A waste pustule is a waste pustule. Whether it's alive or made into a chess piece, it's still a waste pustule."

Nangong Liu was scolded by him, and he shrank his neck sheepishly, hugging his orange vine basket with a cowardly look. After a while, he actually started to cry: "Why are you so cruel? I'm useless because I'm useless. Use it, I’m just a useless pustule, so what can you do if you’re mean to me?”

He cried loudly, attracting the attention of everyone around him.

Chu Wanning was almost done adjusting his breath and meditating at this time. He frowned: "This Nangong Liu is so strange."

Mo Ran asked: "What?"

"I can't tell." Chu Wanning said, "I feel that this person is Nangong Liu, but it is very wrong. It doesn't seem to be the Nangong Liu I know."

Mo Ran just stared there, Jiang Xi stared at Nangong Liu with a pale face, and Nangong Liu was sobbing, and from time to time he would rub his eyes with both hands aggrievedly.

"..." Mo Ran looked at his actions and felt that something was wrong. It was indescribably inconsistent, as if seeing a child with a middle-aged head made people feel goosebumps. Suddenly, Mo Ran was stunned for a moment and murmured, "Children..."

"What?"

Mo Ran suddenly turned his head and asked: "Master, do you think he looks like a child like this?" He looked sideways at Nangong Liu for a while, and saw that Nangong Liu actually started to blow his nose with his sleeves, He said, "...he is still a child of only five or six years old."

When he said this, Chu Wanning looked at it again, and it turned out to be true.

Although Nangong Liu still looks like he is in his forties, every move he makes reveals this stupidity and childishness.

Chu nightning murmured: "Did Xu Shuanglin do something to him to make his spiritual memory only remain until the age of five or six?"

Mo Ran said: "Master, wait, I will try."

"How are you going to try?"

Without answering, he walked to Nangong Liu in full view, picked up an orange and handed it to him, tentatively saying: "Stop crying, just eat an orange."

"I won't eat it. I've already eaten it. This is for His Majesty."

Mo Ran put the oranges back into the basket and asked, "Who is your Majesty?"

Jiang Xi said: "What's the use? I haven't already judged him for this sentence."

Sure enough, Nangong Liu said: "Your Majesty... Your Majesty is your Majesty, who else could it be."

Mo Ran was not discouraged, but asked him the second sentence: "Okay, Your Majesty is Your Majesty, you are so loyal and sensible, Your Majesty will be very happy if you know it. By the way, I have been asking you about Your Majesty I haven’t asked you about it yet, little brother, what’s your name?”

Huang Xiaoyue looked impatiently at the side, sneered twice and was about to speak, but Jiang Xi stopped him and shook his head. He also vaguely felt something was wrong.

Nangong Liu, who was holding a basket of oranges, looked at Mo Ran for a while, and then said timidly: "My name is Nangong Liu."

Mo Ran smiled and touched Nangong Liu's head, and asked calmly: "Let me meet you, my name is Mo Ran. I am twenty-two years old this year. How about you?"

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