I bought it quickly, and he poured all the wine into his gourd. After shaking it back and forth, he said with a satisfied expression, "Come with me."

I followed him to the place where he lived. There was no light in the room. He skillfully lit the candle, put down his crutch and said, "Sit wherever you want."

I looked at my surroundings curiously.

The surrounding walls are covered with paintings, including landscapes, pictures of animals like chickens and birds, etc. There are quite a few, some twenty or thirty, all nailed to the wall. The southwest corner is full of empty wine bottles.

Those wine bottles were piled up into a small mountain.

"Brother, did you draw these paintings yourself?"

"Yes, I have nothing to do but paint. What do you think?"

"Can I tell the truth?"

"Just tell me."

I pointed to a painting on the wall and said, "This painting of hibiscus and golden pheasants is so lifelike and can be seen through the back of the paper. It uses no less than ten ancient techniques. These inscriptions are made of iron and silver hooks. They are free and unrestrained. I think I should learn the style."

It belongs to Zhao Ji, Emperor Huizong of the Song Dynasty."

He immediately laughed and said, "Haha, what I drew was obviously a sketch of a hen eating, but you said it was a picture of a hibiscus and golden pheasant. You young man really knows how to flatter a horse."

"I'm over half my age. I don't care about sex or money. I only have two hobbies: drinking and appreciating paintings. I knew some boxing and kicking skills in my early years, but later I picked up a hamstring when I was fighting with others."

I said, "Brother, your accent is from the north, so why did you settle in Chun'an?"

He sat cross-legged on the ground, burped and said, "I'm not settling here anymore, I'm just looking for someone to pass by here."

"Who are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for the person who sold me fake paintings back then."

He wiped his face, pointed two fingers at me and said, "It has been more than twenty years. It has been more than twenty years since a high imitation of Tang Bohu's painting made me bankrupt and lose all my face. I found out that this painting was

The ghost hand of the door is imitated by Xu Xiaobo, so even if I travel to the ends of the earth, I still have to find the ghost hand of the door."

I couldn't close my mouth when I heard it.

Isn't Xu Xiaobo the old man who was imprisoned in the mental hospital? Before he died, he told me a treasure-hiding poem, saying that a group of his heritage treasures were hidden in a place opposite Bailu Community in Nanjing.

Cemen deceived many painting masters back then, and the ancient paintings they imitated are still kept as treasures in major museums. I reacted and said, "It's been so many years, why are you so persistent? Cemen's ghost might have been there long ago."

Dead of old age.”

"Impossible! The ghost-hand Xu Xiaobo is definitely not dead! I used his birthday and horoscope to calculate with the Match God! He is still alive and well!"

Of course I know about the Match God in Shijiazhuang, Hebei. He is the top figure in the fortune-telling world today. He has helped countless people escape and change their fortunes in his life. His ability is no less than that of Jingmen. The difference between the two is Jingmen.

He does not tell fortunes for ordinary people, but the God of Matches specializes in telling fortunes for ordinary people.

Match God said that if Ghost Hand Xu Xiaobo is not dead, then he is not dead, but there is a timeline issue involved.

I asked, "When did the God of Matches help you calculate?"

"It was about five years ago," he recalled.

I thought to myself, this is right, Xu Xiaobo died a year and a half ago, and I personally pushed his body into the morgue, so it couldn't be wrong.

After a few words of advice, I wanted to change the subject. This man was deceived by Cemen in his early years and it seemed that he had become obsessed with it. He actually spent more than 20 years traveling all over the world to find the other party. Jiamusi is a crazy place with mental illness. He would go to hell if he could find it.

Already.

He opened his mouth and yawned, and suddenly said, "Boy, although I am a disabled person and can no longer practice martial arts, I know all the secrets of martial arts in the world today. Today, for the sake of your two bottles of Erguotou, I can give you some pointers."

"

"Ah! Really?"

"I don't talk big words. When I say I understand, I understand."

"Then tell me what is the most powerful martial arts in the world today?" I asked curiously.

He smiled and said, "There is no such thing as the most powerful martial arts. Hundreds of schools of martial arts each have their own strengths and weaknesses. It all depends on the talent and opportunity of the martial artist, but in terms of growth in the later stages."
Chapter completed!