The middle-aged monk is very strong, but Chen fan can feel that he can defeat each other.

Therefore, in this case, he does not need to directly attack. Chen fan always feels that this place is very strange. It is better to try to find out what useful information can be extracted from the other party's mouth.

"I have a lot of things I had before. Do you still want them?"

Hearing this, the middle-aged monk's eyes were shining, and he did not hide his greedy color. He nodded and said, "that's nature. All the treasures in the world should belong to me. It's better if you don't have the fortune to accept your fate!"

Chen Fan nodded slightly and said quietly, "if you want my treasure, I can give it to you, but you have to answer me a few questions first."

"Why are you so wordy? Ask quickly, or I won't kill you!"

The middle-aged monk was impatient and urged chen fan. He was greedy and could not hold any thoughts.

Chen Fan thought for a while, and finally spoke when the middle-aged monk was about to break out.

"Why is the world upside down here? When did you appear here? Who told you to wait for me here?"

After three questions in a row, chen fan did not say a word, staring at each other directly.

I saw that the middle-aged monk had a trivial expression, but after opening his mouth, he suddenly found that he did not know how to answer.

"I You What do you want to say

Seeing this situation, chen fan can basically conclude that the person in front of him may have no memory or emotion in addition to the greed in his heart.

In a way, he is just a puppet, a memory, a wisp of incarnation, even Something made out of nothing.

Can't count as a person.

Today, when I met chen fan, the middle-aged monk would stop and rob him. Maybe if he met another person, he would do the same.

It's as if some kind of heaven and earth rule guides the counter must be so.

After figuring out this truth, chen fan seems to be able to see a touch of imperceptible sadness from the deep eyes of the middle-aged monk.

Maybe, he doesn't want to be like this. He just can't control him at all. He can only act according to the rules.

Loss of free will.

It's scary to think about it.

If you think about it in a different position, chen fan is the middle-aged monk. He is constrained to act according to his own free will. He must accept the fate or the arrangement of the power of rules step by step.

This feeling is really chilling.

Maybe this is the most fundamental reason why Chen Fan resisted the fate all his life and didn't want to be influenced by it.

Chen Fan suddenly wants to help a group of people in front of him. After all, this may be regarded as a redemption for himself.

Chen Fan took off his storage bag and put it in his hand. Then he looked at the middle-aged monk from a distance. His voice was flat and calm. It seemed that he had a kind of soothing tone.

"My storage bag is here. There are many treasures you want."

"But you ask yourself, do you really want these things? Do you want them, or do some rules restrict you to have them?"

Originally, the middle-aged monk had gone forward several steps uncontrollably. His eyes were full of greed and looked at Chen Fan's storage bag.

But after hearing this, he suddenly stopped.

There was a flash of confusion in my eyes.

The color of struggle began to spread. Chen fan could see that the middle-aged monks were struggling with the force of some rules.

"Today I can give you my storage bag, but in the future, you will still be here and repeat the same life, accept the fate of the arrangement, forever sink, never wake up."

"What's the difference between this and death? Do you really want to accept this kind of life and accept this arrangement?"

Chen Fan's words continued to deepen, and every word he said, the middle-aged monk's face was even more struggling.

At the end of the day, he began to emit smoke all over his body. The whole water surface was boiling, and an earth shaking howl broke out.

"Ah --"

"I don't want to, it's not me, this is not me

With a long sigh, chen fan kept approaching the middle-aged monk. As he walked, he opened his mouth and told his poems which had been taken as his motto.