The sunset was setting, and Hong Yi was lying quietly on the bed and was thinking randomly.

His soul was damaged, his eyes were unconscious, his thoughts and thoughts in his mind were extremely chaotic and distracting. In such a state, he could not understand even a book in front of him.

In addition to being depressed, Hong Yi got up and sat next to his desk.

The desk, which was originally filled with pens, ink, paper and inkstone, now has several bottles of wine. Life is frustrated, and Hong Yi is also drinking heavily during this period.

However, at this moment, a stream of light suddenly landed from the sky and fell directly into Hong Yi's eyebrows. In an instant, Hong Yi's lost eyes suddenly became extremely bright.

The soul, which was injured by Hong Xuanji's blood, was quickly repaired in an instant.

"Hmm!" At this moment, Hong Yi suddenly seemed to have turned on some switch, and thoughts in his mind were like springs, and inspiration emerged in an instant.

Various strange ideas and ideas merged into his heart almost instantly. His previous views and perceptions of various things seemed to emerge in an instant at this moment.

Subconsciously, he wrote a poem directly on white paper—

"Who thinks of the cold weather alone, the whistle and yellow leaves close the sparse window, and pondering about the past and setting sun. Don't be shocked by wine and sleep heavily in spring, and gambling books will make you splash the fragrance of tea. At that time, I just thought it was ordinary."

The tone was sad and vividly appeared on the paper. Suddenly, every word was bright, and there seemed to be a kind of sad artistic conception.

The light illuminated Hong Yi's face, and his eyes became much deeper in an instant. He slowly picked up the poem he had written before, savored it carefully, and pondered it carefully.

Now, just looking at this piece of paper, I feel a kind of sorrow and unwillingness. This is the most true portrayal of his time when he was ill at home. A poem tells his experience and mental journey over the past six months.

"What's going on? Why did Wen Si Ru Quan suddenly? Such a poem could not have been done before even I did! And this word..." Hong Yi looked at the white paper carefully and looked at the poem above.

Not to mention the artistic conception of this poem, even this word is far beyond his peak. When he was at his peak, he could not write such a font containing energy.

"In ancient legends, a saint's words were enough to cure ghosts and gods. Has my decline reached the extreme during this period, and instead burst out with countless inspirations and literary thoughts? Even my soul was restored?" Hong Yi immediately placed everything on his despair during this period.

"The adversity has reached its extreme, but it has begun to have good luck!" Hong Yi silently pondered his experience during this period and the countless inspirations and literary thoughts that emerged in his heart.

This feeling made him feel unhappy.

So he directly picked up the pen around him, grind the ink again, spread the white paper, and finally gathered everything into a sentence: "No: No is a bandit, it is not conducive to the integrity of a gentleman. Big and small come..."

The moment he wrote this passage, Hong Yi felt that he seemed to be completely integrated with the spirit of the ancient philosophers, and grasped their true spirit, true momentum! True greatness!

The more he kept writing, the more Hong Yi felt that he had realized the most essential truth in the world in an instant. His confidence became more and more, and his thoughts were like springs, endless, and his writing was flying.

"Tai: Small goes to big, Jiheng." After writing the previous "No", his pen turned and quickly turned into the next hexagram.

Every word seems to have triggered a blessing from the divine power in the dark. Every word seems to be a baptism of his soul and soul, from the supreme baptism of all saints.

At this moment, there seemed to be a flame of wisdom burning in Hong Yi's mind.

The soul is the furnace, wisdom is the craft, principle is charcoal, and literary thought is copper.

The books Hong Yi read, saw, the principles he understood, and even the warmth and coldness he saw from childhood to adulthood were all integrated into a furnace. Various principles constantly rubbed and blended, and finally seemed to have completely turned into his own accumulation, background and principles.

And at this moment, suddenly, every word burst out and shone brightly.

Hong Yi felt that his soul seemed to jump out suddenly, and his whole body was filled with golden light, like the scorching sun bursting out. In an instant, his soul left his body, and his soul directly reached an unimaginable height.

Opening his eyes, the remaining light of the setting sun burst into the outside world, and Hong Yi's soul left a faint shadow on the ground.

"The sun has not yet set, and my soul broke out on the eve of sunset, and jumped directly from the night tour realm and reached the day tour realm?" Hong Yi was a little dumbfounded. His progress was too fast and too fast.

"It turns out that reading is the strongest way to cultivate souls. If it is not a bad person, it is not conducive to the integrity of a gentleman. Big and small... Wonderful! Wonderful!!" The more Hong Yi recited the sentence he wrote before, the more he felt the more he felt the more he had a clear sense of thought.

His soul floated in the void, and when he looked at the words on the white paper, he felt a sense of enlightenment in his heart; it seemed that these words were the truth he was pursuing in his heart.

At this moment, he felt that his soul thoughts were still growing, and his soul was becoming clearer and clearer under the afterglow of the sunset.

It was just a faint shadow before, but now it seems that a real form has appeared.

The realm of a day trip continued to grow at this moment, and there were faint signs of entering the realm of manifestation.

"Okay! OK! OK!" Hong Yi's soul returned to his body, and the more he looked, the more he became happy.

"Does it be good for me... This encounter can be said that 'Everything will turn back when it is extreme, and if it is extreme, it will come in good condition'!" Hong Yi sighed for a long time.

The heroic spirits of the philosophers turned into light and merged into his soul, causing Hong Yi to have a transformation in his body.

And at this moment, in the master bedroom of the Marquis of Wu Wen.

Hong Xuanji was sitting here quietly, circulating his qi and blood.

Since he shattered the inner demon some time ago, he has officially advanced to the human immortal, and now his cultivation is a thousand miles a day.

"Hmm!" However, just as the sects descended on Hong Yi, Hong Xuanji suddenly opened his eyes.

When the philosophers arrived, others could not notice it, but they were already Hong Xuanji, who was so close to him, how could they not notice it at all?

"What's going on? It's the place where the rebellious son!" Hong Xuanji's eyes showed a hint of horror. He subconsciously opened the door and rushed directly to Hong Yi.

He had already noticed something was wrong. If he didn't take action quickly, something might happen that he would be unable to control himself.

However, just as Hong Xuanji approached Hong Yi's side—

"Buzz!!"

A great aura carrying the will of all the philosophers suddenly came and rushed towards him.

The spirit of the philosophers, the artistic conception of the philosophers, and the principles of the philosophers seemed to have turned into omnipresent wind and water, and quickly invaded Hong Xuanji's body.

"puff!!"

In an instant, Hong Xuanji's face turned red, and suddenly, a mouthful of blood spurted out. The mouthful of blood actually had a fragrance, and there was a little purple gold color in the blood.

"How is it possible? How is it possible? I was wrong? How could I be wrong? Middle Ages, do you think I was wrong? Why?" Hong Xuanji's eyes appeared a little confused, and his originally high aura was instantly knocked back to the prototype. Even the fluctuations of his immortal blood, which was like a little sun, weakened a lot at this moment.

The inner demons I had survived before also erupted again at this time.

Hong Xuanji had just passed through the inner demon and was not even in a stable state. Now, he was attacked by the power of the heroic spirits, and suddenly burst out again, and he fell into a state of confusion.

Today, Hong Xuanji is not the one who does everything for his own way in the later period of the original work, nor is he who gives his life to achieve his great achievements.

What Hong Xuanji is now asking for is not a book, but now his Tao has been rejected by the sages of all sages and naturally falls into a new round of inner demons.

Hong Xuanji's Tao is to distort the saying "the king, the king, the minister, the father, the father, the son, the son". This sentence means that to be a monarch, one must have the responsibility of the monarch, and to be a minister, one should have the responsibility of the subject. The essence is to be in his position and plan for his own affairs.
Chapter completed!