Peck of Rice Immortal Fate

Peck of Rice Immortal Fate Chapter 60

2020-11-07

Chapter 60 The situation is getting worse

Wang Zhuan Lun stood at the bow of the boat, followed by a group of discles, his brows were cloudy Shrouded, no one dared to come forward to disturb.

Since it is named after the salt owl, smuggling salt is the main business of eating. As for the smuggling of other contraband, it is an incidental side business, and it is also used for ballast.

This time the private salt is gone, go on an errand for nothing, Wang Zhuanlun, as the chief salt lord, knows the truth of losing money if you don't make money, and you can't be more depressed.

What made it even more uncomfortable was that Wang Zhuanlun had the chance to win, but Qi Lie escaped without even touching the shadow of the person who shot it.

Such setbacks can be more painful than the loss of private salt.

Wang Zhuanlun lowered his head, his eyes seemed to be able to penetrate the front of his clothes and saw the talisman on his chest.

A complicated rune is not painted or engraved, but blended with the skin and flesh, as if it was naturally formed by texture and skin tone.

With this talisman, Wang Zhuanhuan will have the confidence to not be afraid of the sky or the earth.

"Who else can overturn the foundation of my Qianqiu Society?"

Wang Zhuanlun recited the mantra of eight characters in his heart, "Unification of Qianqiu, immortality!"

On the sides of the two banks, the army of pickled corpses marched silently, like a neat army in the night.

With hundreds of salted corpses in his hands, he is not even afraid of the government's army. What's wrong with selling illicit salt?

Wang Zhuanlun's head got windy. It turned out that a discipline quickly stepped forward, "Master, that's not right!"

"en!"

Wang Zhuan Lun looked back in dissatisfaction, and the pressure in his eyes made Disciple's legs soften, and he almost fell to his knees in front of him, "Master, forgive me!"

"Come on, what's going on?"

disciple stammered, "We counted the number of pickled corpses just now, and found that there were a few missing?"

Wang Zhuanlun listened and sank his face, "Trash, it's not even good to count the number!"

The hundreds of pickled corpses under his command are all fixed. If they are kept in one place, then there is no need to worry about getting lost.

But now marching along the river, the situation is more complicated. After all, pickled corpse is fierce and hard to tame.

If a flesh-and-blood creature breaks into the team and arouses the pickled corpse's thirst for blood, I'm afraid it will erupt on the spot, break free for a short time, and leave the team to hunt for food.

Therefore, every once in a while, it is necessary to count the number of pickled corpses so as not to get lost.

Of course, Wang Zhuanlun will not do such trivial matters by himself, but leave it to a bunch of disciplines.

In the past, the discs counted the number without any problem, but today, for some reason, even after counting back and forth, there are still thirteen discs missing.

Among the hundreds of pickled corpses, the number of thirteen is not large, but the disciplines all know that pickled corpses are the top of the king's wheel. You can't say that you want to kill someone in anger.

"Master, spare your life, let's add Three Purities, a total of three hundred and seventy-one, thirteen less!" One less, the old man concocted you into pickled corpses!"

The disciples shuddered when they heard it, they followed Wang Zhuanlun and cooked pickled corpses with their own hands. It was a hellish scene, and no one wanted to be Pickled corpses!

So, one after another silhouette jumped from the wooden boat to the shore and began to cast a net to search for the lost pickled corpse.

......

A moment later, a fire exploded, and one of the discs of the king wheel fell to the ground and died.

"Brother Qi, a good trick!"

disciple widened his eyes, unable to close his eyes. In front of him, the thirteen pickled corpses that were lost stood on the spot, wrapped in golden light. .

Fang Dou clapped his hands. When this discipline came to him, he saw the pickled corpse that they had taken away, and was about to open his mouth to gather his companions, when Qilie's fire hit his chest, killing him immediately.

Qi Lie rubbed his fingers and dissipated the smoke, "Are you going to continue?"

"Wait a minute, wait until I refinish these pickled corpses!"

Time is urgent, Fang Dou can only use the 'refining' method of scattered beans turns into soldiers to cut off Wang Zhuanlun's control over the pickled corpse. If he wants to continue refining, he has to wait until later.

The golden light flickered, submerged in the pickled corpse, and instantly disconnected.

On the distant wooden boat, Wang Zhuan Lun sensed it and sent an angry roar, "Who dares to destroy my pickled corpse?"

At this time, the recipes that went out to find have all returned one after another. , the result is nothing.

"Well, where's the eighth?"

Wang Zhuanlun's eyes swept away, and found that there was one person missing, it was the Disciple killed by Qi Lie just now.

"Eight Junior Brother, maybe he's lost his way!"

Other disciplines, guessing in their hearts, must be the old man who knows that the matter is too big, and the Master must kill people and escape while going out .

Idiot, how can you escape the spell search of the finished apprenticeship father with your legs?

Wang Zhuanlun sneered twice, "It's not easy to get lost!"

He looked at the other disciplines, "Who else do you want to get lost next?"

p>

disciples keep quiet out of fear and dare not answer.

Wang Zhuan Lun put his hand on his chest, extracted the power of the talisman, and took out a porcelain bottle, which contained a blood essence.

"Have you forgotten the poisonous oath made by your own mouth when you worshipped in the sect?"

The disciples bowed their heads and looked at each other with their eyes, obviously they all remembered the oath they once made. .

They didn't speak, Wang Zhuanlun said instead, "Dare to deceiving masters extinguishing ancestors, disobeying the teacher, you will surely die from the poison curse and burn your flesh and blood!"

next moment , he crushed the porcelain bottle, suspended the blood essence that belonged to the old eight on his fingertips, and started to run the power of rune.

A wave spanned a long distance and landed on the corpse of the eighth.

Fang Dou and Qilie wanted to leave, but suddenly they saw a mutation in the corpse. Under the cold and hard skin, it was like boiling water, blisters one after another.

Even from the inside of the corpse, a roaring sound began to occur.

A mass of blood and fire rose from his chest and instantly filled his entire body. After a few breaths, his flesh and blood clothes were burned to ashes, leaving only bones.

Such a bizarre method made their scalps go numb, knowing that it must be the leader of Yan Xiao.

On the wooden boat, Wang Zhuanlun collected his mana and his face was grim, "The old eighth has become a pile of bones. Which of you want to learn from him can just leave!"

p>

With a thud, the disciplines knelt on the ground, kowtows repeatedly, shouting that they dare not.

"Continue on the road!"

The king wheel ordered, and fleet continued to walk.

Another day passed.

"Master, I, I, I..."

The disciple who reported the letter was fighting with each other, obviously knowing that he was on the errand of death.

"Speak!"

"We just finished counting the pickled corpses, and there are 15 less!"

After disciple finished speaking, he closed his eyes. Wait for it to drop.

After a long time, Wang Zhuanlun asked, "Only fifteen pieces are missing?"

"Only", what does this mean?

disciple heard Wang Zhuanlun ask again, "Why are there so many of you rice buckets?"

"Let's get out of here, if there are fewer pickled corpses tomorrow, you guys There's no need to come back!"

The disciples heard the news, and knew that Wang Zhuanchuan was extremely angry, and was on the verge of erupting, and next time, they were afraid that they would really kill people.

Their name is Disciple, but they are actually Yan Xiao's subordinates, and they are also the slaves of the king's wheel.

There was a Disciple who was unbearable and tried to defect. After being caught by Wang Zhuanlun, he burned his flesh and blood with evil fire. The whole process lasted for three hours, and it was a nightmare for everyone present.

As a result, the disciplines did not dare to rest during the day and night, and stared at the shore with wide eyes, for fear that another pickled corpse would be lost.

(end of this chapter)