The Emperor of the Immortal Realm

Not only the Confucian scholar Wang Long, but also the Confucianists who complimented him all around him glared at each other.

The writing is frightening, and the poem becomes a weeping ghost. Is this grandstanding?

Suddenly, one by one glared in the direction of the sound.

But the door of the Oriental Palace in the distance opened wide.

After a series of gorgeous words came out, the Confucianists almost forgot the targeted Yan Chuan, but at this time, everyone saw that Yan Chuan stepped out of the Oriental Palace.

"Is it wrong to shrink your head?" Chen Ping was slightly startled.

Jump out at this time? Let the originally surprised people show incomprehension.

Yan Chuan stepped out, followed by Qinglong.

"Meow, Yan Chuan, those people are so hateful, they are all scolding you!" Meow ran over.

"The writing is frightening, and the poem becomes a weeping ghost, Yan Chuan, this is a stubborn stubble, why are you coming out at this time?" Dongfang Zhengpai asked in confusion.

"Is Wengui also considered a ghost?" Yan Chuan showed a slight disdain.

"Huh?" Dongfang was puzzled.

"People have kicked the door, let's go, let's go over!" Yan Chuan said lightly.

"Past? Now?" Dongfang Zhengpai asked in surprise.

You know, the 32 great Confucian scholars of the other side are already expected by the public. Going now, isn't it insulting themselves?

Yan Chuan stepped out carrying Meow Miao, Qinglong followed closely behind, holding a huge plaque in his hand.

"Ok?"

"Yan Chuan?"

"Dare he come?"

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...

The cultivators in the Quartet all showed surprise, and nearly ten thousand Confucian scholars also showed incomprehension, with a trace of pity in their eyes.

Although Chen Ping's eyes were mocking, for some reason, he suddenly felt uneasy. disturbed?

The two floating islands were not far apart, and in a blink of an eye, Yan Chuan came close.

"Yan Chuan?" Wang Long frowned.

"What are you doing?" a big scholar frowned.

"Qinglong, show him the invitation, who issued it?" Yan Chuan said lightly.

"Yes!"

Qinglong took out the invitation card, and as soon as the invitation card came out, everyone immediately recognized the words on it. Wang Long's words.

The group of scholars stared at Yan Chuan. Although Yan Chuan came late, it still became the focus here. Who made Chen Ping's poems aimed at Yan Chuan in the first place?

"woo woo woo woo!"

In the distance, the ghosts still cried to Wang Long's poem.

"The fall of the pen is frightening, and the poem becomes a weeping ghost?" Yan Chuan showed a slight disdain.

"I don't know what to advise?" Wang Long still maintained his image among the Confucians.

"Yes, if you have the ability, you can write too!" Chen Ping shouted.

Yan Chuan glanced at Chen Ping. Waved slightly.

Qinglong immediately took out a brush.

Nearly Wan Wengui surrounded Wang Long's poems and cried, Yan Chuan picked up a pen, and landed on a huge stone monument directly opposite.

Nearly ten thousand Confucian scholars, and nearly one hundred thousand onlookers, all showed surprise.

"This Yan Chuan is really looking for death!"

"Yes, he dare to fight against Wang Long's great scholars?"

"Even Haoran is not righteous, so why are you fighting?"

"I can't help myself!"

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...

There were waves of mocking and disdain from all around.

But at this moment, Wang Long suddenly had a bad premonition, his expression was still, but his eyes were extremely sharp.

"Meow, Meow!" Meow Meow opened her teeth and danced her claws to a group of people who had scorned Yanchuan.

Qinglong was slightly worried, that the Dongfang decent had no face and skin, and it didn't matter.

I saw Yan Chuan write.

Thinking of breaking the red road all his life, the sword is hidden in Luxuan. Wan Zhan claimed not to mention the blade, and was born with eyes contemptuous of heroes.

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