Cyber ​​Swordsman 2121

Chapter 61, Siming, Siming...

Chapter 61, Siming, Siming...

"It seems that if you want to do it once, it will not work."

Zhang Baoren caressed his chest and said, "After all, it's no better than the 100% fit between Daolu and Da Luotian, and you can directly download the knowledge package."

But it's okay, and it's much better than ordinary people who haven't received the scriptures.

If it is an ordinary person, if there is not a few years or more than ten years, a little bit of training, it is impossible to learn this set of things.

But now, judging from the progress, he should be able to fully master this sleep method in a short time.

As he thought about it, he became familiar with the breathing rhythm again.

Relying on the Taoist's control over the body, but after dozens of failures, the breathing rhythm has been included in the habit.

Then it went a step further, maintaining a special fetal curling movement in the breath, and then it started to fail again...

After success, I went one step further, in the curled up position of the baby, the body trembled slightly with the heartbeat, and then failed again...

Then go one step further, while doing all the movements, meditate on a dead silence in your heart, and meditate on a mantra:

The source of data is the sea, and the brain is hidden in the gods.People say stinging dragon, but I sting my heart.Clear the memory, breathe deeply.Nine days of high lying, no bosom friend in the world...

The source of data is the sea, and the brain is hidden in the gods.People say stinging dragon, but I sting my heart.Clear the memory, breathe deeply.Nine days of high lying, no bosom friend in the world...

...

Before he knew it, Zhang Baoren's consciousness fell into a real dead silence.

At the same time, the special chip connected to the consciousness in the skull started to operate spontaneously again, making the sinking consciousness fall into a certain nightmare.

Humming... The one who sensed the situation immediately flew from outside the house to the bedroom.

Looking at Zhang Baoren, who was curled up on the bed like a baby in an embryo, motionless, but carefully looked at Zhang Baoren, whose body was actually slightly relaxing and beating, and saw the strange vitality bred on his peaceful face.

"Like a baby, don't check your breathing, take your internal energy, hold it firmly."

"This is exactly the reaction after the "Hidden Dragon's Sleep" is really practiced, and it is also the highest state of this exercise. The fetus is full of its spirit, and the rest is its heart. Life, in the life from death is neither life nor death, you can see the true soul of your nature, which triggers you to enter a deep dream."

"Judging from multiple body data such as brain waves, heart pulse, blood pressure, etc., the situation is roughly the same as the night when I received the talisman."

One bite hovered over Zhang Baoren's body, carefully checking his physical condition.

"It is indeed in a deep dream."

"But why so fast?"

"According to my calculations, Zhang Baoren will need at least half a month to practice "Hidden Dragon's Sleep", and it will take at least a month to truly trigger the deep dream, why did he complete it in such a short period of time and enter the dream? "

"Well, the body temperature has started to rise, and we have to start preparing the water of life to cool down..." While Yishui was busy maintaining Zhang Baoren's body on the side, on the other side...

Zhang Baoren's consciousness has gone through a long period of darkness, and his soul is in a state of ecstasy, as if he has spent a longer time than his life.

I don't know how long it took, and finally felt a faintly visible talisman in the dead silence.

Then before I could see it clearly, I saw a beam of light, from far to near, the light skyrocketed...

...

...

...

I closed my eyes subconsciously, avoiding the light that was accidentally reflected in my pupils by the mirror-like blade.

He rubbed his eyes, and rubbed away all the darkness and discomfort after exposure. This time, the smooth mirror-like blade only had a round face, a thick and short neck, two beards under the tall nose, and a face of a chef. The image of a middle-aged man is projected in the eyes.

Looking at the somewhat familiar and somewhat unfamiliar figure reflected on the blade, I couldn't help feeling a little dazed.

Who is this?
What is this nonsense?I hold the knife, and of course the person reflected by the blade is me, and this person is me.

But... who am I?

...

...

"Siming...Siming..."

A memory that was so far away that it was already somewhat mottled emerged in my heart. It was a group of 10-year-old children playing around in the dusk, looking forward to the future.

"What are you going to do when you grow up?"

"I...Of course I want to become a chef, just like my mother cooks the best food for everyone to eat."

"Then I want to eat too..."

"I want to...I want to...hahaha..."

...

...

In an instant, I woke up from the muddle before, and I understood that my name is Siming.

And now I am a chef.

Putting down the kitchen knife in my hand, I looked around, and found that the place where I was was was a small street-facing restaurant with an area of ​​just over 30 square meters.

It is said that the restaurant does not have tables and chairs for eating anywhere, which is the configuration only for high-end restaurants.

The specific appearance of my restaurant is actually like a milk tea shop in the past.

"Milk tea shop?" I suddenly frowned.

It was a restaurant that was popular for a period of time more than 100 years ago. It usually only appears in 'costume' movies. How could I think of this metaphor?

It's really strange.

Shaking his head, looking around, in the cramped and narrow restaurant, there are all kinds of things and I will be full.

The thing that occupies the largest area besides me is a stainless steel metal box hanging on the wall. This is a cooking machine, and inside it is a variety of prepared water of life and federal gasoline.

This is what I mainly sell.

Opposite the cooking machine is a small maroon shrine more than one meter high.

On the left and right sides of the shrine are two lines of antithetical couplets in black characters on a red background, "God says good deeds, and descends to earth to deliver auspiciousness."

A statue of a god made of mud and very rough workmanship sat upright in it, staring at the people outside indifferently with a pair of eyes that seemed to be alive.

I glanced at it and subconsciously felt disgusted.

"These damn cameras."

I don't like these three-footed gods very much. They make me feel like I'm in prison without any enjoyment when making delicious food.

It's like a thief and prisoner with bad deeds being speculated and stared at by the prison guards with ill intentions, without even the slightest respect.

But I don't even have the qualifications to sell things if I don't enshrine this statue.

I could only curse in my heart: "How can you feel the heart in the food if you can't safely drink the food that is made with care."

awesome...

A knock on the door came from behind, and I knew it was my apprentice just by hearing the sound.

Since he started working with me, he has always been so punctual.

I turned around and opened the door, and a young guy in his 20s stooped in and came in, "Master, I'm here..."

"How many times have I said it? Just call me by my name. Don't be a master... It's like feudalism. What era is it now?"

"If you are willing to take me in and teach me skills, then you are my master, no matter what era you are in."

"What kind of skill is mine? Those cheap cooking recipes are everywhere in Luotian. Even if you don't have a Taoist scripture, you can't download it. You can just read it a few times. My stuff is really nothing. Speaking of it You can still think highly of me if you can learn from me."

"Don't be modest. I have also tasted other eaux-de-vie, but including Daluotian, I have not found any one that tastes as authentic and superior as yours."

"Stop hugging me..."

"I'm really not flattering you. The sourness and smell of Marsala are fully stimulated in your hands, and it blends harmoniously with other flavors, which is simply perfect."

The young man couldn't help but swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

"Of course, the most important thing to thank you is that even such a precious formula, you passed it on to me without any request or reservation."

"Isn't that what chefs are like, to make delicious food with original materials and pass on this memory to more people, this is the meaning of our existence..."

I paused, and continued, "Of course, what's more important is that I see in you the love and respect for food."

(End of this chapter)

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