The Emperor of the Immortal Realm

As soon as the first nine bitter words came out, all the spirits in the picture suddenly cried louder.

Yan Chuan started writing, and there was a sudden golden light all around, as if a great upright eruption, but it was actually surrounded by luck.

Surrounded by billowing luck, in a blink of an eye, I wrapped Yan Chuan and the picture scroll, and suddenly I couldn't see the interior scene. I only knew that Yan Chuan was writing another beautiful and wonderful article within the scope of the air transportation package, and it was still a peaceful text. Mr. Ruo's painting is a poem that suits the occasion.

"You actually write poems on Wen Ruo's paintings? What is Gongzi Yan doing?" Wang Su frowned.

"My king's poems, this is the first time I have seen you!" Yi Feng exclaimed.

"What? See you for the first time? Isn't it from the last peak literary meeting?" Mo Yuxi asked curiously.

"It was written by my king, but the king said, it was not created by him!" Yi Feng took a deep breath.

"It wasn't created by Yan Chuan, it was written by someone else. He just wrote it silently? But those hundreds of beautiful and wonderful articles have never appeared in the world? Who wrote it?" Mo Yuxi was puzzled.

"I don't know!" Yi Feng shook his head.

"Bitter bitter bitter bitter bitter bitter bitter bitterness?" Mr. Wen Ruo suddenly let out a bitter smile.

"What happened to Mr. Wenruo?"

"Master Yan is a great talent! It's better to be here!" Mr. Wen Ruo smiled bitterly.

"Oh?"

"The suffering of the sky, the suffering of the earth, the suffering of the sun and the moon, the suffering of the common people, the suffering of all races, the suffering of the heavens, the suffering of human nature, the suffering of the world, and the suffering of people. I already thought that painting was perfect because I had already succeeded in creating the spirit, but Master Yan As soon as the nine'suffers' came out, I realized that the painting still lacks the real soul, and Young Master Yan is writing a masterpiece!" Mr. Wen Ruo said in surprise.

"Masterpiece?" Wang Spider said solemnly.

Mr. Wen Ruo didn't want to explain, only a trace of bitterness appeared on his face.

Mo Yuxi frowned to look at Mr. Wen Ruo, and narrowed his eyes: "Mr. Wen Ruo, how do I feel, you don't want Yan Chuan to win?"

Not only Mo Yuxi, but Yi Feng also looked at Mr. Wen Ruo in doubt.

Looking at Doutai, Mr. Wen Ruo smiled bitterly: “Don’t worry, saint, I’ve done my best in my painting just now. Although I don’t want Yan Chuansheng in my heart, I have no slack!”

"Oh? Why?" Mo Yu was puzzled.

Mr. Wen Ruo shook his head: "Don't ask the saint. Although Young Master Yan is great, Sima Yuntian is also great!"

Mr. Wen Ruo refused to say, everyone could only sigh slightly.

Everyone looked at the top of the bucket.

Sima Yuntian ignored the envelopment of luck around Yan Chuan, but concentrated on writing his "Wanxian Pilgrimage Fu"!

Wanxian Pilgrimage Fu!

At this moment, around Sima Yuntian, there seemed to be ghosts and phantoms of immortals condensing awe-inspiring righteousness.

One by one, the celestial spirits were misty, and countless celestial grasses suddenly appeared on the ground around them. As soon as the celestial grass appeared, it covered the entire Tianshou Square in a blink of an eye.

Someone touched it and found that the fairy grass was just a virtual image, but the virtual image was already very powerful. In a blink of an eye, the surrounding Tianshou Square disappeared and turned into a huge fairyland.

Countless cultivators stood in the fairyland, the clouds and mist were misty, and the fairies flying around, like dreams and illusions, as if everyone appeared in another world.

The words hadn't been written yet, everyone felt the soaring literary spirit, and everyone looked at Sima Yuntian with anticipation in their eyes.

Wanxian looked around, as if he could see countless cultivators. Nodded at the repairmen in the square, showing a kind smile.

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