You said you would practice martial arts. Have you mastered the Tiangang Dharma?

Chapter 495 Holy Land
Ah Ying was waiting for the result she wanted in Beidi Valley, and soon she met the staggering Jiang Qiu, as well as Yiwei, Nine-tailed Fox, Ah Xiong and others.

She actually didn't know much about the Fourth Heaven, but she also wanted to know what it was like. After all, she had stayed in the North Valley of the Third Heaven for too long and felt that the rules of this world were dull and boring, so she wanted to find more interesting things.

Therefore, Aying really wanted to know how to go to the fourth heaven. Even if she didn't really go there, she was curious about such a legend. So, after she learned about Jiang Qiu and others' ideas, she couldn't wait to take a few people to the holy land.

The morning mist was like a crumpled silk gauze, slowly passing over the eaves entwined with ivy. The Tradescantia suspensa hanging from the eaves stretched out its leaves in the mist, and the condensed water drops fell into the pottery basin below, awakening the sleeping moonlight shell in the basin. As the shell fluttered slightly, a ray of silver light overflowed, illuminating the new buds of green vines on the wooden wall.

Ah Ying walked barefoot on the wet mossy stone steps, her dew-soaked skirt brushing against the crystal mushrooms poking their heads out from the cracks in the rocks. These translucent caps sensed the passing of living beings and immediately shyly retracted their folds, emitting a faint blue light in the mist. In the distance came the sound of a wooden pestle pounding medicine, mixed with the bitter fragrance of honeysuckle and green wormwood brought by the morning breeze. It was Granny Lu preparing cough medicine again.

Walking around the fence full of stardust orchids, the children in the morning class were sitting under the thousand-year-old maple tree. Their half-demon ears trembled gently in the morning light - the little rabbit demon girl had long snow-white ears hanging on her head, and the wings of the tit demon boy were still wet with dew. The old banyan tree spirit was using aerial roots to roll up the stone slab and was teaching the little demons to distinguish between star grass and firefly: "If the veins of the leaves are flowing with the silver sand of the Milky Way, they will resonate with the Big Dipper at night."

The fog in the direction of the market suddenly rippled, and the bronze bells of the white fox caravan broke the silence. The leading white fox boy still had a furry tail when he turned into a human form. He took off the green bamboo basket on his back, and the basket was immediately filled with the fragrance of red fruits. The teahouse run by the willow demon next door immediately lowered its soft branches, rolled up a few red fruits and put them into the pottery pot. The boiling water instantly turned amber, and the rising hot air condensed into a small white crane phantom in the air.

At noon, the runes on the bluestone street began to glow with golden light. This was a protective formation drawn by the first great demon using tail feathers dipped in the morning sun, which could provide shade for pedestrians in the hottest sunlight. Ah Ying looked up at the interlaced treetops above the street. The albizzia trees cultivated by demonic power were automatically weaving green nets, filtering the sunlight into dancing spots of light that sprinkled between the rows of shops.

Colorful clouds float out of the butterfly demon's dyeing workshop, and the dye they mix with wing powder is surging in a large vat; the old owner of the tortoise shell shop piles the newly shed shells into a tower shape, and each shell is engraved with different tidal patterns; the busiest place is the carp demon's fresh sashimi stall, where river fish wrapped in bubbles are swimming in the glass cabinet. No matter which fish the customer chooses, the owner's fingertips will condense into ice blades, and when the cold light flashes, the sashimi has become a translucent piece as thin as a cicada's wing.

As dusk fell, the reeds on the west bank of Mirror Lake began to hum. The reeds that had been infected by evil spirits for many years had become spiritual objects. Whenever the evening breeze blew through them, they would play the ancient "White Dew Ballad". Ah Ying walked on the duckweed-paved path towards the pavilion in the center of the lake. Koi fish jumped out of the water from time to time under her feet. The ink patterns on their scales were reorganized in the twilight, revealing the claw marks left by the white crane that passed by yesterday.

A group of bluebirds suddenly startled in the maple forest on the other side. It turned out that the night-roaming demons began to light lanterns. These lanterns made of firefly egg shells do not need candles. The sleeping fireflies inside will wake up when they sense the dusk and dance in the glass cover. At this moment, looking from the lake, thousands of blue halos meandered up along the mountain, just like the Milky Way fell into the mortal world.

At midnight, the spirit whiskers of the thousand-year-old tree drooped into the lake to absorb the moonlight. Ah Ying leaned on the natural seat formed by the tree knot, watching the spirit whiskers condense the moonlight into pearls and throw them into the tree hole - that was the source of spiritual power that maintained the barrier. The observatory deep in the tree canopy lit up with stars, and several sturdy demons were adjusting the star tracker. Their wide sleeves brushed across the copper plate, and the stardust they shook off turned into fireflies and flew everywhere.

The great demons, the powerful ones who have practiced for decades, stand out in this world full of spiritual charm with their unique appearance and extraordinary abilities. His eyes are like the brightest stars in the night sky, deep and mysterious, flashing an elusive light. They are black and full of spirit, and they seem to be able to see through people's hearts, and their eyes are like torches, as if they can see through all the vanity in the world.

His eyebrows were thick and powerful, like two swords, lying across his deep eyes, adding a bit of majesty and determination to his face. Whenever he frowned slightly, there seemed to be a sense of oppression in the air, making people dare not look directly at him.

The demon's skin color is not the common white or dark, but has a light jade luster, just like the finest jade, warm and lustrous. His hair is waist-length, black as a waterfall, gently fluttering in the wind, showing his extraordinary temperament. His nose is straight, his lips are clearly defined, and his face is clearly outlined, as if it was cut by a knife or an axe, but it still has the beauty of soft lines.

Wearing a wide robe, the hem of the robe fluttered in the wind as the demon walked, showing his otherworldly demeanor. He was tall, with smooth and powerful muscle lines, revealing a wild beauty and extraordinary fighting power.

No matter where the demon appeared, he seemed to be surrounded by his own little world. His calmness and unfathomable demeanor naturally made people focus on him. His every move was full of grace and power, and even the simplest movements could attract attention.

In this world full of fantasy, the demon is undoubtedly a unique and eye-catching landscape. Every look and smile of his is intoxicating and awe-inspiring. He is so unique and rare, as if he is a miracle born between heaven and earth, waiting for his legendary story to slowly unfold.

This is the entrance to the holy land, hidden in the mountains, like a door to another world. The ancient trees are towering, with branches and leaves intertwined, blocking the sunlight in the sky, making the surroundings shrouded in darkness. A stone path winds up, with lush bamboo forests on both sides, swaying in the wind, making rustling sounds, like ancient whispers.

At the end of the stone path is an ancient archway with exquisite carvings. The traces of time depict the vicissitudes of history. On the archway, two simple Chinese characters "静界" reveal a solemn atmosphere. Passing through the archway, there is an open area, a square paved with bluestone slabs, and huge stone beasts are placed around it. Their eyes seem to be watching every creature that steps into this place.

In the center of the square, a tall stone gate stood tall, with mysterious runes engraved on it. Light roamed on the surface of the stone gate, making it look ancient and powerful. On both sides of the stone gate, torches that never went out burned, illuminating the road to the holy land, but unable to dispel the deep darkness at the end of the road.

The stone door slowly opened, making a heavy sound, as if warning the outside world not to disturb the tranquility of the holy land. Behind the door was a long passage, with gemstones inlaid on the walls, emitting a soft light, illuminating the way forward. At the end of the passage was an equally simple wooden door, with exquisite patterns carved on it, and the door handle was two intertwined dragons. When the door was pushed open, a fresh air blew in. Behind the door was a quiet courtyard, full of various exotic flowers and plants, which swayed gently in the breeze, emitting a faint fragrance. In the center of the courtyard was a clear pond, the water surface was as calm as a mirror, and occasionally a few petals gently fell, stirring up circles of subtle ripples.

At the entrance of this holy place, time seems to have stopped, and the hustle and bustle of the outside world is isolated outside the door, leaving only this piece of pure land, allowing people's hearts to get a moment of tranquility and cleansing.

Soon the switch was turned on, and Aying led everyone into the holy land.

In the center of the holy land, there are many pavilions, towering ancient trees, and green tiles and red eaves shining in the sun. These pavilions are scattered in the courtyard paved with bluestone. Each pavilion is carved with exquisite patterns, with flying eaves and corners, which are lifelike. The corridors are winding and winding, like a maze, which is fascinating.

Approaching one of the pavilions, you can hear the sound of reading aloud from inside. It is the students of the demon tribe reciting classics. Their voices are loud and powerful, full of thirst for knowledge and respect for knowledge. The interior of the pavilion is gorgeously decorated, with famous demon calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls, and the bookshelves are filled with all kinds of books, emitting a faint scent of ink.

In the courtyard of the pavilion, there is a stone bridge across the clear stream, the gurgling stream seems to be telling an ancient story. On both sides of the stone bridge, there are colorful flowers and dancing butterflies, adding some vitality to this holy place.

As the sun gradually sets, the afterglow shines on the pavilion, and the golden light makes the entire holy place look more solemn and sacred. At this time, a gust of wind blows, and the leaves rustle, as if the echo of history is echoing in my ears.

In the holy land, there are many pavilions, each of which carries a heavy culture and history, and each stone slab records the dreams and pursuits of countless people. This is not only a palace of knowledge, but also a harbor for the soul, which makes people feel awe.

The demon boy sat quietly in the mottled light and shadow. His eyes were like the deep night sky, containing the sea of ​​stars, gentle and sharp. Every time his thick eyelashes blinked, they seemed to be telling a thousand words. Between his eyebrows, there was a hint of calmness that was inconsistent with his age, as if he had experienced the vicissitudes of life.

The boy's hands are slender and dexterous. He flips through the ancient books, and every word is full of affection. There is often a smile on the corner of his lips, which is a reverence and love for knowledge. His hair is like ink, casually scattered, but it reveals an unruly beauty, which is in sharp contrast with his posture of concentration on reading.

The surrounding environment is quiet and simple. There are inkstones and brushes on the bamboo desk, and the bookshelf next to it is full of yellowed books, exuding a faint scent of ink. Outside the window, occasionally a few bird calls penetrate the mist, reflecting the quiet and determined figure of the boy.

Time seemed to stand still at this moment, the boy was completely immersed in the ocean of knowledge, his eyes were focused and far-sighted, as if he could see through the prosperity of the world beyond the pages of the book. His fingers tapped lightly on the table, as if in harmony with the rhythm of knowledge. This scene was like a moving painting, showing the endless pursuit of knowledge and the inner clarity of the demon boy.

This is the holy land of Beidi Valley, or it can be said to be the holy land of the North. It cultivates the most outstanding talents of the demon race, and naturally it also contains the most ancient secrets.

The old man Jiang Qiu walked among the mottled pavilions, and every step on the stone road seemed to tell the vicissitudes of history. The quaint pavilions and towers looked particularly heavy under the afterglow of the setting sun, and the years left deep footprints here. A gust of wind blew by, bringing with it the faint fragrance of flowers and the freshness of the lake in the distance, making the old man feel a little dazed.

His eyes passed through the winding corridors and the lush flowers and trees, as if he could see the prosperity and bustle of the past. The carvings on the pavilions were vaguely discernible, and the echoes seemed to still retain the lingering sound of the old days of singing and dancing. The old man stroked the mottled marks on the stone railings, his fingertips felt the erosion of time, and unspeakable emotions surged in his heart.

The pavilions and towers of various shapes and sizes cast long shadows under the setting sun, like an ancient scroll quietly unfolding. The footsteps of the old man echoed in the empty courtyard, and each sound seemed to be questioning the past and exploring the lost glory. And those lifelike sculptures seemed to be quietly listening to the old man's voice, their expressions were still vivid, as if telling stories from the past.

As he walked, the old man came to a small bridge and flowing water. The clear water reflected the reflection of the pavilion and the old man's weathered face. He stopped and stared at the water. The flowers that competed for beauty and the prosperity of the past could only find a trace of comfort in this tranquility.

In the misty rain, the old man seemed to see his past self, wandering in this quaint garden. On the bluestone slabs, the black-sailed boats gently passed by, leaving a series of ripples, as if they could touch the softest corner of the old man's heart. He knew that all the beauty would eventually go with the wind, but this memory and this emotion would become the eternal scenery in his heart.

As the sun gradually sank, the old man's figure lengthened in the afterglow. He knew it was time to say goodbye to this building that had witnessed countless stories. He took a deep breath, his heart filled with emotion for this land, then slowly turned around and walked out of this garden that carried so many of his expectations with steady steps.

Arriving at the Holy Land, Jiang Qiu couldn't help but feel a little emotional. He had been in the Third Heaven for most of his life, and was on the journey every day. He was exhausted and it was time to leave. He hoped to get the answer to go to the Fourth Heaven.
(End of this chapter)