The lights were brightly lit in the Netherworld Alley, and the Qing soldiers coming and going were digging through the land, hoping to find the entrance to the rumored underground palace. However, this ancient Song Dynasty alley with strange killings and flying paper scraps still made them feel a little bit uneasy in their hearts.
"General, the hundred troops ahead have not yet found the underground palace. Monk Yankong sent people to the alley to urge the departure. How should my subordinates respond?"
The Eight Banners Army, which was regarded as the elite throughout Jiangnan, now took off its uniform and was sweating profusely in the alleys in vain. This ridiculous and weird scene made Annan General Dasu frown.
But as he turned the brass wrench finger covered with wear marks, the otter tail on the top of the helmet shook slightly as he made a sound, and the brim of the hat could no longer cover his gray temples.
"Tell that guy Yankong to get away."
Dasu said slowly, but there was no kindness in his words.
"He has been in Fuzhou City for less than ten years, and his notes are like snowflakes. If it weren't for the protection of the Holy Lord, he would have been dismissed from his post. If you don't want me to play a book, just wait outside!"
In front of Yankong, Dasu had the confidence to say this.
The water war in the south of the Yangtze River was no better than that in the north. The current imperial court was unrivaled in terms of qualifications, ability, and loyalty. He was ordered to go to the south of the Yangtze River to encircle and suppress Zheng Ni. He was already qualified to command the cities and towns along the way, including a meager imperial envoy who worked hard but failed.
What's more, Dasu himself knew the great merits of Monk Yankong's trip. How could he find a Han Chinese whose origins were unclear!
As the confidant in front of him got up and went to reply, another confidant walked from the depths of the alley, with confusion and complaints in his tone, and a sinister look on his rough brows.
"General, are the things here so urgent? Can't we wait for the army and civilians to dig them out?"
"Now that the DPRK and the Central Government are not stable, the military strength is limited, and Che Ke, the Minister of Revenue, is still trying his best to raise money and food, and build ships to support it. How can we easily change the road and waste money and food?"
Hearing his subordinates' doubts, Dasu was a little angry, but he still patiently consoled him, "Today is no better than in the past. The court is already in short supply, so it is better to spend small amounts of money to do big things."
What Dasu said is true. The Qing government's battle to retake Jiangnan from Zheng Chenggong seemed to be over, but in fact it was just the beginning of everything. Just the reconstruction of the eroded bank defenses and military outposts along the Yangtze River meant that a lot of money was being spent. No turning back.
What is more difficult to recover is the people's hearts that are ready to move.
After regaining Jiangnan, Shunzhi began to liquidate all officials and people who surrendered to Zheng Chenggong during this period. They would kill anyone involved in rebellion. In just one month, tens of thousands of people in the Jiangnan area died in the post-war liquidation, all adult men were killed, and all their wives and minor children were exiled into slavery.
Da Su even heard that someone in the DPRK had written a letter suggesting that sea bans and immigration should be strictly enforced until Zheng Chenggong was forced to death, starved to death, and locked in the vast ocean.
Da Su vaguely noticed that Shunzhi's heart was hardened and could not tolerate any betrayal, no matter what the reason for others' betrayal.
The previous Shunzhi still had favors with Prince Rui Dorgon, and he accepted all those who were willing to submit to him, but this time he did not even allow an explanation, and was not happy to see submission. He killed many people with Jiangnan as the center. .
In fact, everything had already been revealed. He still remembered that after Dorgon's death, Prince Azige mobilized 300 people and his own son to transport Dorgon's coffin back to the capital in person. However, they were suddenly surrounded outside Desheng Gate. Hundreds of soldiers were killed.
Not to mention, Gang Lin, who later conveyed the news to Emperor Shunzhi, was later beheaded instead of being rewarded. Isn't this the case of murder and silence, because there is no proof?
Now that Da Su wants to please Shunzhi, he has to please Shunzhi. When Prince Jingjin Nikan died in Hengzhou, he was also cruising nearby with his troops. Naturally, he knew that Nikan led the army to march at night and day and night, and exhausted his energy in advance before falling into an ambush and dying of exhaustion.
His keen war intuition gave him the ability to learn and reflect. When commanding an army, it is better to be slow and to attack steadily and set up camps along the way. If he really wants to be fast, he should rush forward with light cavalry and surprise him.
Dasu sighed slightly in his heart.
He is not young anymore, and if his qualifications become "deeper", it will become a burden, and his abilities will no longer be outstanding one day. The emperor's thoughts are elusive, and many things will be difficult to control by then.
Therefore, today I have no choice but to ride alone with five hundred of my followers.
One thing that he always kept in his heart and dared not say was that the emperor's methods were becoming more and more extreme, and his temper was more and more similar to that of Prince Rui Dorgon...
At this moment, an urgent report woke him up from his wandering thoughts. The sound in Nether Alley was suddenly extremely noisy, mixed with the sounds of Manchu shouting and pushing each other. It didn't sound like a battle-hardened elite at all. .
This made Dasu even more angry. He stepped forward from the entrance of Nether Alley wearing armor and holding a knife and cursed angrily: "What kind of chaos! I was scared away by the people at the West Lake before, but now I have to scare myself?!"
Then there were bursts of footsteps in the alley, but luckily it wasn't the panicked running away that he was worried about.
At this time, it was still late at night, but at sunrise, there was still no trace. The men who followed him in the north and south, wearing single clothes stained with mud, were withdrawing from Nether Alley in an orderly manner in the chaos, shouting in Manchu The companions guarding the alley had their armor and weapons ready, as if they were encountering an enemy in a field battle.
There was a flood of people, and the soldiers of the Eight Banners tacitly gave way to Dasu. They began to wear their armor without any explanation. A separate adjutant came to report the situation.
"General, there is a murderer who suddenly attacks and hurts people in the alley. His behavior is extremely weird, as if... he is haunted!"
"It's haunted...could it be that ghost-faced man who hides his head and shows his tail?"
There was a suspicious look in Dasu's eyes. The reason why he came here was because of the information provided by someone. If this is a trap, then what he faces is not good. "Those with complete armor will obey the order. A team of five people will follow me to investigate!"
This Eight Banners team is highly armored. They wear silk collars, neck protectors and ear protectors with azurite and other colors on the back, embroidered with patterns and embellished with copper or iron nails. Armor includes both armor and apron. There are shoulder pads on the shoulders of the armor, armpit protectors under the shoulder pads, and a shiny metal breastplate on the chest and back.
Their years of fighting prowess ensured that they would remain calm when encountering the enemy. With the cooperation of two pairs, they quickly formed six teams of five, covering each other in a dismounted fighting formation, following closely around Annan General Da Su, and once again stepped forward. Enter this eerie and mysterious alley.
There were tall trees on both sides of the narrow alley. The green bricks were dug deep here and there, and the moss and wet soil were thrown everywhere. They didn't stop until they saw the turbid muddy water.
Rows of gates cover the sky in front of you, causing people's eyes to intersect with each other, appearing to appear and disappear, rising and falling. There are also faint harsh sounds coming from the walls on both sides, accompanied by the sounds of their footsteps and the collision of weapons, mixed with One after another together.
Dasu frowned and said, "Were you frightened by this sound?"
The confidant quickly explained: "The general misunderstood. This voice has already been investigated by my subordinates from a water wheel in the courtyard - the truly bizarre thing is still ahead."
At the end of the field of view in Netherworld Alley is a dilapidated building that has been in decline for a long time. It has firmly blocked the alley, turning it into a dead end.
"General, look at the top."
The subordinate pointed at the shadows that were flickering on the crumbling wall, and said uneasily, "Is there something vaguely floating..."
The Eight Banners, who had no weapons just now, were startled. At this time, the excitement had not yet passed. Annan General Da Su also squinted his eyes and said nothing. It took a long time to say a decisive sentence from between his teeth.
"Pretend to be a ghost! Shoot arrows!"
The soldiers of the Eight Banners seemed to have been kicked, and they drew their bows and arrows with great skill. A hail of arrows rushed away, smashing the rubble and rocks on the ruins, and a cloud of dust rolled down.
But as the dust dispersed, two figures, one black and one white, were still erratic on the ruins. They were so black and so white that they were dazzling, like ghosts lingering in this dark alley, staring at the deep alley beneath their eyes. The dying person.
What was even more difficult to ignore was the figure slowly standing up on top of the long-dead building.
Da Sushan's eyesight was very good, and he clearly saw something floating in the wind in the hands of the figure.
On the long silk banner with black characters on a white background, it was clearly written: "Kuimen looks forward to your arrival every day, and the people of Baidi think about it after you have passed away. It is as if you have climbed up to the Yellow Pavilion early, and there is always no thought in the rain." "
Compared with the two silhouettes in black and white, the figure standing on the top of the ruins was too thin. He turned his back to everyone and made no attempt to hide it. He just stood alone with a banner, facing the biting cold wind. in silence.
The strong wind hit, and the long silk banner with black characters on a white background seemed to be unable to be destroyed. The strands of rags flew away in the wind and turned into pieces of debris. Even the writing on it began to become blurry and hazy in the air, almost It will disappear.
The theory of ghosts and gods is elusive, but what you see with your own eyes can be truly grasped. As the inexplicable surprise and the panic of the first sight passed, the Eight Banners led by Dasu gradually calmed down and resumed their duties as a warrior in a hundred battles. mentality.
Dasu slowly stepped forward surrounded by everyone and said loudly: "General Annan of the imperial court is here. Who dare you to act like a ghost here? Why don't you get out of the way!!"
"General Annan?"
The figure suddenly turned around, and the fragments of silk on the banner were flying all over the sky, like countless paper money floating in the wind. A black figure and a white figure also floated to the ground, looking at the Qing soldiers with menacing eyes, covered with red bloodshot eyes. His eyes were lifeless, as if he were looking at a group of dead people.
"So Song Feitian, General Shenwu, is traveling, who dares to stop him?"
Jiang Wen's condescending gaze swept across the audience, looking thoughtfully at the dimly lit Fuzhou City, and sighed slowly.
"Don't want to leave? Then just stay."
…………
Strange movements occurred one after another in Netherworld Alley, and the shouts of killing were heard endlessly. It was not until a group of Eight Banner elites escorted the nobles hurriedly past that anyone reacted in the chaos.
Monk Yankong stood at the entrance of the Nether Alley with his eyebrows raised, turning a blind eye to the soldiers and horses around him. He cast his cold eyes at the entrance of the alley, substantiating his anger at being intercepted and robbed of merit tonight.
The Eight Banners in front of them still refused to give up. Monk Yankong waved the wide sleeves of his monk's robe to push away the crowd, then smashed his head into pieces and broke into the Nether Alley.
He found that the Eight Banners in full armor were falling along the high wall of Netherworld Alley, with their heads hanging slightly and leaning against the corner.
There were no obvious wounds on these Eight Banners. They seemed to be kneeling by the road without saying a word. There was only a pool of gradually dissipating blood that grew larger and larger, forming a bright red stream flowing to the entrance of the alley.
Monk Yankong's pupils suddenly narrowed because he saw a familiar person.
The two of them looked at each other from a distance of less than ten feet. Countless people passed by them, trying to avoid the beasts, but their footsteps did not move at all, and they did not even blink.
"If you don't practice, Master, Jiang will not be able to welcome you again after a long absence. I hope you can forgive me."
As soon as Jiang Wen finished speaking, Monk Yankong burst into laughter.
"I knew I would meet you a long time ago, but I didn't expect to meet here. Fuzhou City is in danger tonight, and you actually dare to come and die!"
There was a flash of surprise in Jiang Wen's tone.
"Sure enough, you know something. The city of Fuzhou is turbulent, and the forces are intertwined. I originally planned to clear the chessboard and find someone to settle the score, but now it seems that you are a 'pawn across the river' who is unable to retreat. ah."
The dusty wind gradually picked up, the sound of horse hooves sounded, and both of them started to move in the electric light and flint.
Jiang Wen suddenly jumped up high and dodged Monk Yankong's extremely powerful Vajra Palm, leaving only a deep palm mark on the wall behind him.
Jiang Wen, who had just killed seventy-six Qing soldiers with his sword, had already exhausted most of his internal energy and was unable to maintain his peak condition. Therefore, he chose not to sharpen his edge and look for opportunities to retreat instead of advance.
However, Monk Yankong's moves became more and more powerful, and the powerful Vajra Finger and Vajra Prajna Palm were also shrouded in clouds and pervasive. Only the shadows of his fingertips and palms were densely covered within three feet of his body, and even his subordinates could not get close.
"Is this all you have?"
Monk Yankong roared angrily, "They are just as useless as the Fuwei Escort Agency. They deserve to be tricked out of the city and killed!"
Jiang Wen remained unmoved and swung his sword to block one after another, and his moves were as smooth as clouds and flowing water. The two of them saw their moves in the alley with such subtlety and speed that even martial arts masters who have practiced sets of moves for many years may not be able to compare.
"Master, you are ridiculous. Sneaking the escorts from the Fuwei Escort Agency out of the city is certainly a way to seek death, but isn't it the same reason for you to send people to rob and kill them."
Regarding Monk Yankong's heart-wrenching words, Jiang Wen just smiled faintly and said, "I would like to ask, Master has sent so many people under his command, how many of them have come back to report to you?"
The Chang brothers were still lurking in the dark and staying put. They stayed awake for three days and three nights. It was not as simple as insomnia.
This big chess game is a battle of life and death. Both the Black and White Peaks think they have a chance to win, but once they fall into the "two calamities cycle" situation, no one can even think of winning without draining the last bit of life from both sides. burden. The person who can win in the end will only be the third player who suddenly appears...
Although the two people's power is limited, it is not difficult to rob and kill Monk Yankong's men in reverse. I dare not say 100%, but it will be easy to complete nine out of ten times.
Monk Yankong frowned and stepped forward without hesitation with his palms, not caring about the lives of his men at all. Jiang Wen suddenly stretched out his left palm, drew a circle on his chest with a simple movement, and pushed it outward with a roar.
The Vajra Prajna Palm struck like the sky falling and the earth collapsed. Jiang Wen raised his palm like a king lifting a cauldron, and advanced like a giant pushing a mountain. Their palms came together and then separated. Jiang Wen and Yankong were both affected by this violent force. He retreated with great rebounding force, and did not stop his retreat until his back hit the alley wall. The wall visibly shook for a while, and dust rolled down in the sky.
"If you don't stop the master's good kung fu, you drink, eat meat, and flirt with women every day, you can still have such internal strength. Jiang really admires it. It's not convenient to use it here, so we might as well change the place and fight again!"
Jiang Wen smiled lightly, jumped up and walked diagonally across the wall, leaving no trace. Monk Yankong's eyes were filled with murderous intent, and he kicked the wall to fly up, pursuing Jiang Wen in hot pursuit.
Not far outside Netherworld Alley is a rolling river in the city. From a distance, you can see that the water in the river is rising and the waves are undulating. It has poured back into and submerged many farmlands. The Baima River was originally used to decompose and dredge external floods. At that time, it became the source of the flood.
The eye of the secluded spring under Fuzhou City has appeared, and the murderous big spring in the mouth of Huang Ji, the protector of Hongyang, is now ready to come out.
The two of them chased each other and stood by the river. Jiang Wen was also surrounded by Monk Yankong and his men, but his expression remained indifferent.
Monk Yankong threw off his monk's clothes, revealing his steel-like muscles in the cold night. His palms were empty in front and solid in front, then solid in front and empty in back. It was dazzling and dizzying. Then when he crossed his crotch protectors, he raised his palms as if he was drawing a bow to gain momentum. He punched out a palm close to his body.
The twelve successful powers of the Vajra Prajna Palm appeared. Jiang Wen did not dare to take a careless step forward. He raised his palms with both hands, and waved both palms upward on the same side. The six dragons control the sky, and the six yangs are born from the void pole. Their posture also changes from contraction to expansion, and they attack in three directions, head, body and tail.
When the strong dragon pressed the realm, the four fields were divided and the five lakes were in chaos. Jiang Wen just held the reins like an extremely skilled charioteer, opening his palms, fists, and elbows during the battle, forcibly controlling this power that no one could resist. Stopped the situation from falling apart.
Seeing the subtle situation, Monk Yankong's men desperately wanted to attack. They thought it was a pot of calm cold water, but they didn't know that the power of the struggle was as strong as a cup of boiling water overflowing. A slight shake can cause burns.
As soon as the man with the hideous scar on his face touched his body, he was violently ejected more than ten feet away by the force of the two men's fight, and his mouth almost filled with blood.
But despite being so seriously injured, the man was still able to stand up staggeringly, with many black writings showing on his torn open chest. Then he snatched back a sharp knife with fierce eyes and quickly stepped forward to snatch it away. .
Jiang Wen was not polite, and during the fierce exchange of firecrackers, he flew up and kicked him into the rolling waves, which was instantly swallowed up. The others were so horrified that they did not dare to step forward.
"Master Non-Xiu, your internal strength cannot be achieved overnight. You must have stayed in the Shaolin Temple for a long time. Don't you have any compassion?"
After hearing this, Monk Yankong seemed to have heard something funny, and he suddenly looked up to the sky and laughed.
"Hahaha, ridiculous! The earth has no boundaries and the heavens are lawless. I don't need that extremely hypocritical false compassion. I can only be the true Buddha in charge of the lives of millions of people!"
Then the evil image on Monk Yankong's face returned to form, "I let you go because I wanted to recruit you. Today it seems that you are stubborn, so go and die!"
Monk Yankong didn't pay any attention to the dangerous situation where ordinary people would die if he touched it. The martial arts passed down from the Vajra Sect in the Western Regions was powerful and fearless. It swallowed up all the power like a whale, and crushed countless bricks and stones when it landed.
"Master who is not a cultivator, do you know a method of self-sacrifice and a martial art that becomes more powerful the more you study it?"
Jiang Wen's eyes were impartial, but they fell solely on his ankle that was bitten by a small stone.
The gauze that tightly wrapped the wound had burst, revealing a deep wound that had not healed or scabbed at all. Even the blood had a strange dark color and looked extremely strange.
Monk Yankong's eyes were murderous, but Jiang Wen clearly saw wisps of black energy entwining in his eyes, wandering around the pupils, which seemed to be one with the cold aura of Monk Yankong.
Jiang Wen had already seen the whole thing at a glance, and saw from it the indelible mark of Southern Shaolin's secret dragon-shaped fist, which maintained a strange symbiotic relationship with the body named Yankong, neither increasing nor decreasing, neither dirty nor pure. .
A trace of struggle flashed in Monk Yankong's eyes, and he seemed to have noticed something was wrong with his state. The secret Dragon-shaped Fist, which originally only broke out at the moment of life and death, was quietly triggered and invaded his will...
The opponent is scheming against me and uses the dragon-shaped fist!
"To be honest, my martial arts qualifications are mediocre, and my external skills are extensive but not refined. The way I use them is just to make people laugh. It's really not as good as your operation. I have to use some small tricks as a last resort."
Jiang Wen stood with his hands behind his hands, his attitude was very humble.
But when Monk Yankong listened to the other party's words, he only felt that the other party was speaking sarcastically. The twisted secret dragon-shaped fist in his body could no longer be restrained, and transformed into a weird posture of twisting tendons and misaligning bones. The Vajra Prajna Master once The moment he takes action, there will be waves of fishy turmoil!
But when Jiang Wen smiled slightly, he took a step back and distanced himself without revealing any trace: "However, this martial art has been entangled with my second disciple for a long time. I have devoted myself to his situation, and over time I have naturally come to understand it."
Jiang Wen put on a martial arts posture that was different from that of Monk Yankong. His hands looked like palms but not palms, and they were like a long dragon diving into the abyss or a swimming dragon exploring its claws. It seemed like a martial arts that was similar to the Eighteen Palms of Subduing the Dragon.
This time when the two strong men met, Jiang Wen's fists were like mist and mist, disturbing the breeze. He easily blocked Monk Yankong's extremely violent secret dragon-shaped fist. But if you look closely, you can see that the moves used by the two are exactly the same. Can distinguish differences in small details.
With every punch and kick, the two of them were entangled with all their strength. Monk Yankong's men were even suddenly dazzled. They could no longer see the two figures in front of them, but they could only see two black dragons entangled by the river. Fighting, the rivers pour down with mud and sand, and they don’t recognize anything else!
When the two of them fought, it was Monk Yankong who made the first move, and Jiang Wen followed up with the same move with just a slight difference. However, as these little things kept accumulating, it became Jiang Wen who struck later and suppressed him with all his might. Live the secret dragon-shaped boxing of Southern Shaolin that once made people laugh!
"Fortunately, I am proficient in small formless skills. All martial arts in the world can obtain the meaning and forget the form. Since ancient times, the formlessness is magical, the small form is pure and empty, and only after there is no image and no trace can be found, the master will be better than the blue."
Before he finished speaking, Jiang Wen also rushed out the biting wind between his palms. It was no longer as majestic and upright as the branches and leaves of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms before. Every move and every move was filled with a ferocious aura that would kill powerful enemies and frustrate the strength of a powerful crossbow. .
"Therefore, I have the courage to integrate the Tianshan Plum Blossom Hand into the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, rely on the Small Wuxiang Kung Fu to reach its peak, and simulate a martial arts that is unique in the world and specializes in restraining the secret dragon-shaped fist. Please give me your advice! "
The secret dragon-shaped fist can rely on fighting, absorbing the essence of the opponent's martial arts, innovating and deducing it on its own, until it is far stronger than the opponent, and then it will be like a black dragon that has tortured enough of its prey, and then swallow the opponent in one bite. .
Jiang Wen has always had a headache because of the characteristics of this martial art. He can't be beaten or scolded, so he can only suppress it by relying on methods such as pure heart and universal kindness. But if the opponent was not Hong Wending, then with his superior knowledge in martial arts, he would have already thought of a method that can be called fighting fire with fire.
The secret dragon-shaped fist has form but no quality, and will derive completely different characteristics depending on the host. But the weakness is here after all. Using long to attack short and using surprise to win is the way of ever-changing Yin and Yang. , no matter how fast the dragon-shaped fist grows, it cannot overcome the current situation where the innate being is targeted.
The Tianshan Plum Blossom Hand can imitate unarmed martial arts from all over the world. At every moment, he is absorbing the essence of Monk Yankong's Dragon-shaped Fist and imitating his killing moves that have been refined over time. The Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms are the most powerful and powerful ones. The pinnacle of martial arts in the outside world has been practiced to the point where light, hard and soft can be combined at will, and strength and softness can be blended into one. Finally, activated by the incomparable miraculous Little Phaseless Kung Fu, it is like being thrown into a hot furnace, and the brilliance of the sword and divine weapon is restored. It can’t be covered up either!
The combination of these martial arts requires extremely high internal energy, but I have to admit that Jiang Wen has relied on the vast collection of martial arts to find a way to overpower the secret dragon-shaped fist!
Jiang Wen stopped talking. He had already seen the turbulent waves rising in the spiritual platform where Monk Yankong had not yet been annihilated.
The Vajra Prajna Palm and the Powerful Vajra Finger are his special skills, while the secret dragon-shaped fist is a nightmare that he can't get rid of in this life. Countless enemies have been defeated by this martial art that gets stronger with each battle.
But now this invincible martial arts pales in comparison to the martial arts that Jiang Wenxin has mastered. Even if he tries his best to imitate and learn the opponent's martial arts moves, he is far behind the subtle and quick changes of the other party. Jiang Wen's martial arts are unpredictable. It was in front and suddenly behind, and it actually reached the point where even the secret dragon-shaped fist was extremely difficult and had nowhere to start, suppressing the secret dragon-shaped fist forever!
"As a master, of course he is better than his apprentice in every aspect..."
Jiang Wen mobilized 10% of his inner strength. He knew that this martial art was truly invincible, but like the secret dragon-shaped fist, it had great flaws.
First of all, the process of imitation always starts from scratch, and once the person is replaced, there will be no such clear pertinence; secondly, it consumes too much internal energy, and using the three martial arts together will almost drain his already insufficient internal energy; finally, there is still You must have an understanding beyond ordinary people to be able to imitate and improve in the slightest and be better than your master!
But Monk Yankong didn't know that Jiang Wen had clearly seen the black energy in the other person's eyes growing, surging, and filling. Finally, the whole person's reason was expelled and transformed into an unconscious humanoid murder weapon!
Yankong's whole body was trembling violently, and a large amount of sweat fell from his steel-like body. His bones were broken, twisted and broken in the battle that exceeded the limit, and they were barely held together by the muscles.
His consciousness fell into chaos, the light in front of him gradually dimmed, and the faith that he usually relied on to ignite with wine, sex, and wealth fell apart. He fell into a bottomless abyss as if the ground he stood on collapsed, and fell into an endless darkness.
His chaotic will was still disintegrating, leaving only a weak voice lingering in his ears.
Yankong...
Yankong...
Monk Yankong tried to open his eyes in confusion, but his eyelids were as heavy as a huge boulder and remained motionless no matter how hard he tried. So he could only listen with his ears raised, hoping to discern what the other person was saying.
Yankong!
Yankong!
The frequent calls haven't stopped yet, Yankong's heart is filled with rage, and he finally wants a trace of sober strength. He tried his best to let out a shout, hoping to silence the other person's continuous shouting.
Yankong! !
Yankong! !
He just wanted to lie peacefully in the darkness until forever.
Yankong struggled to use powerful martial arts, but his body was weak and involuntary, as if he had turned into a fragile child.
A wave of fear suddenly surged into his heart, and after the excitement, another wave of thoughts relaxed.
I see.
There was always only one call to him, but he repeated it tens of thousands of times in his heart, turning it into a sound that echoed from the bottom of his heart to the sky.
In fact, that sentence is very short.
【Yan Kong! ! Run quickly and don't look back! ! Keep running and you will survive! ! 】
The wooden figure alley in Southern Shaolin was filled with blood mist. No one knew why in the middle of the night. All the Shaolin disciples who had practiced the secret dragon-shaped fist presented by Abbot Zhishan, both monks and laymen, were entangled by some kind of voice and came here. Here, the brutal killing of each other began.
The senior brothers who were originally as close as a family no longer care about the friendship. The dead moves that were forbidden during daily sparring, the dirty tricks learned through walking in the rivers and lakes, and the trump cards that should be used when encountering enemies are all naturally used at this time, gouging out. Eyes, kicks in the crotch, acupuncture points, and ribs are all used.
The narrow wooden alley turned into a box for refining poison, and an indescribable voice sounded in their heads in no particular order, tempting them to continue fighting and fighting until the person who survived in the end...
Horrifying memories exploded in Yankong's mind. Similar scenes made him wreak havoc once he thought about them, and his brain material almost flowed out of his ear holes.
Yes, it was like this now. He just wanted this kind of martial arts. He used the martial arts he had learned from his masters in daily life, killing the new disciples one by one. He only felt a strong fire growing in his body, almost Want to start a prairie fire!
There are more and more scars on his body, but the unfamiliar killing intent is getting stronger and stronger. Even the breath he exerts with all his strength and the hard beating heart want to be turned into killing moves.
But his killing finally stopped. A familiar figure stood in front of him, easily knocking him down and destroying the surging flames in his body.
The bewitching voice was still echoing, and he closed his eyes and waited for death. This was the rule of Wooden Lane tonight. The loser had no use except death. But the pain he expected never appeared. Instead, the voice of his friend Monk Haizhi rang out.
The other person's voice was also full of pain, and his hands were covered in blood.
【Yan Kong! ! Run quickly and don't look back! ! Just keep running and you will survive! ! 】
The sound only lasted for less than a few breaths, but Yankong seemed to have experienced the birth and death of countless worlds. He suddenly woke up from the chaos and began to run backwards desperately. The bewitching voice in his ears became weaker and weaker.
The exit of Wooden Man Lane is just a few steps ahead. Everything tonight may be just a crazy nightmare. After waking up, everything may be back to before!
Just as he was thinking this, the bewitching voice in his ears suddenly grew stronger, whispering to him to look back and see that all this was false and he was about to wake up from the dream.
So Yankong subconsciously looked back...
At this moment, the world is broken like water, and the world is like a halo. Only a figure sitting cross-legged slightly pokes its head, as if to ask why the world is so stubborn and how to get rid of it.
He is indescribable. He is as big as space and suddenly becomes small.
He may take one body and make hundreds of thousands of bodies, or may merge into one body.
He may be on this shore, then he may be on the other shore, or suddenly he may be in the middle again.
He may walk on land as if he were walking on water, or if he were walking on water as if he were walking on flat ground.
He cut open his belly, took out something, and threw it into the world like a discarded chicken, leaving only a sky full of crazy mountains and terrifying seas, and waves of blood.
Then, he glanced at Yankong.
With just one look, Yankong's brain died at that moment.
From then on, the words of Monk Haizhi lingering in his mind became the only thing he remembered, accompanying him as he staggered out of the Wooden Lane, escaped from the Shaolin Temple, and walked into the deserted mountains. It exists in an incredible state, seemingly dead but not dead.
Monk Yankong died, and Monk Yankong lived again.
Jiang Wen stopped suddenly. The exhaustion of his inner energy made him gasp violently. The reason why he stopped was that the crazy monk Yankong in front of him suddenly fell into pieces.
The limit comes unexpectedly, but it is natural.
Countless scars emerged from Monk Yankong's body, as if someone had cut his body with a sharp knife as fast as lightning. The texture of the rotten muscles was turbid, and the stench of decayed blood was unpleasant. Along with a turbid yellow wave crashing on the shore, He was suddenly swept into the rolling waves of the White Horse River behind him.
At the moment when he finally disappeared, Monk Yankong seemed to show a weird smile because of the extreme pain, and stretched out his hands desperately to grab it, as if there was an invisible treasure right in front of him.
But his struggle was like this thick night that swallowed up all traces of existence in an instant, completely and strictly involving him in the undercurrent, never to be seen again.
At this moment, a roar came from the Baima River, and countless phantom or real figures suddenly appeared, entangled with Monk Yankong's men who looked horrifying and ferocious, and even danced wildly and strangled themselves one after another. Throat, suddenly suffocated to death.
Jiang Wen turned around, and a mysterious figure had wriggled out of the shadows. The mask with upside-down features and inexplicable horror had been taken off, revealing a twisted plate of blood vessels and tendons, flexed muscles, and no facial hair at all. The terrifying face that you can’t even see!
"You weren't hurt at all?"
The other party's voice was strange and indistinguishable. Jiang Wen now knew that it was because the other party's throat had been crushed long ago, and his face had been deliberately scratched and torn. A great resentment was expressed on him. This made Jiang Wen vaguely aware that it was the work of Hongyang Holy Child.
"Prefect Ling, you are fine."
Jiang Wen gasped. The other party must have seen the end of his strength and chose to show up at this time.
The location of Magistrate Ling means the twisted invasion of the Haoli Ghost Kingdom, and it also means that some of the struggling dead are about to resurrect. Just like what he saw before, countless ghosts are entangled with their former enemies, torturing, abusing, and... Till death.
Jiang Wen himself had no interest in understanding the method of killing or injuring someone, let alone learning it. The shortcoming of the people who created and spread this method is that they are too soft-hearted. Sometimes they know that it will bring regrettable consequences, but they still make mistakes because of emotions.
Jiang Wen had already realized that the secret of this evil art lay in the Mani Orb. And there is an indescribable and deep connection between the Mani Orb and the Haoli Ghost Kingdom.
As the ghost-faced man approached step by step, Jiang Wen tried his best to adjust his inner breath that had been depleted by repeated fierce battles. The rolling river water behind the ghost-faced man came one after another, and the dark and unidentified substances in the eyes of the Youquanhai were spewing out from the invisible underground, causing pollution. Twisting the land.
The old and aging city of Fuzhou is lingering in the long night, like a dying old man with his mouth wide open, making a dull and mechanical breathing sound, together with tens of thousands of people sleeping with their eyes open between the three mountains and two towers, quietly listening to the waves. The crazy pulse, coupled with the deafening violent heartbeat, is about to usher in another invisible doomsday.
They're almost getting used to it.
In August of the twelfth year of Shunzhi (1655), the Qing government ordered Prince Zheng's son Jidu to go to Fuzhou and mobilize troops to attack Zheng Chenggong's ministry. In September of that year, 30,000 Manchu and Han troops were stationed in Fuzhou and soon headed to Zhangzhou.
When the army set off, Jidu proudly wrote a letter reporting what he had seen during his trip: Outside the city of Fuzhou, it is impregnable, and inside, people are at peace, and there is no fear of rebellion. It is the best place in Fujian.
The city of Fuzhou, which has been sleepless for a long time, is now once again facing a night of military violence. Many things have emerged one after another. In the gaps that have not yet had time to leave traces in the history, there are scenes that are overwhelming and difficult to hold on with one hand.
In those years, the gates of Fuzhou City were locked, and the people and horses were silent. Those figures under the city gates were either alone, in a hurry, majestic, or despairing. No one has ever seen them from here again. Return inside the city gate.
The sound of dripping is difficult, and the long night is dark and difficult to pass, but there are people who have been watching the city gate like this for more than ten years. While waiting, I still live with the last trace of fantasy in my heart, hoping that the heroes who followed Huang Daozhou generously out of the city will return in triumph with Ma Ge as they promised.
They said that they had to die to protect their country, but death would kill their ears. Those who are waiting should not worry about it. They must take their share and live together.
The green blood hidden in the dark forest at night, splashed in the dust in the sky, and solidified in the most inconspicuous place, has long been covered with frost and dust, so that even those who linger in the clouds and smoke of the past and still remember the past can't help but feel blurred. Get up——
Is everything always like this? What is it that I am tossing and turning about?
There are so many such people, so many that ordinary alleys can be found everywhere, and all living beings walk around this ancient city in silence every day with their heads lowered. Huang Ji, who was among them, also bowed his head and remained silent, but his reason was different.
His Kanyu technique was learned from Jiang Ke, the master of Xuankong of the Sanyuan Sect, and was highly praised by the Kanyu masters of Sanyuan Xuankong Feixing and Xuankong Sixty-Four Hexagrams in later generations.
When he was alive, Jiang Ke used the fallacy of geographical books in the world at the time, and he was extremely contempt for the three -in -law method. He was obscure and secretive about his confidential law. He also mentioned Sanshan Huangquan Sha in a letter to his disciple Huang Yan, but he always refused to understand the root cause.
To this day, Huang Ye has understood the purpose of the teacher at this moment. I am afraid that the later "Huating County Volleyball Biography" is probably known, so it is obscurely recorded: "Three years of Shunzhi (that is, 1646), the Qing soldiers captured Fuzhou and killed. In the Ming Dynasty King Zhu Xijian, at this time Jiang Ke was also in the city and fled for the monk, so he traveled between Qilu Taishan with Kangshi Supu. "
The creeping figure once again rose from the shadow of the black, and handed a shot of the old and tattoo to Jiang Wen's hands. In the air, it is like the silent ceremony hundreds of years ago.
The traces of hard struggle in the historical reincarnation are almost dissipating. Jiang Wen still sweats like a slurry. Silent.
In this regard, the horrible face of the ghost -faced person who couldn't help showing a bright smile, but the eyes of hatred never looked at the vague Huang Yan for a moment.
"I waited for you overnight outside the ancient temple of the West Lake. I didn't expect you to be stupid enough to run to the ghost alley. It seems that it is overestimated you."
Ghost people make a laughter like night, ominous atmosphere hovers throughout the day, and never goes. In the deep Baima River, the huge mud has formed. It was thoroughly involved in the ghost kingdom of Artemisia Grasson and Huangquan.
Jiang Wen looked at the white horse river that set off waves, and if he saw some terrible and evil snake -shaped creatures, he vomited his head and stood in the eternal abyss that did not see the sky. Stick your head out.
"The so -called yellow dragon, Min Huizong, I have seen it today ..."
Jiang Wen slowly straightened his back, looking at Ling Zhifu's appalling appearance today, and spoke his long -breaking words.
"Ling Zhifu, you can be described as a painstaking effort in order to allow Fuzhou City to bury you. , All have become the integral part of your conspiracy. "
Ling Zhifu's face was somberly on his face, and the extreme pain and revenge quickly corroded his heart, making his voice mixed with joy and sorrow, and his voice was unable to control himself.
"The person who betrayed me was still alive. I came for debt collection! Just wait for the city to fall into the ghost country of artemisia, everyone has to suffer day and night, whether it is Huang Yan, Hongyang Sacred Children, inverse. Female and Ding family, or your guy who is a nosy, everyone can't run! "
Not only the Baimahe River, this night of every inland river and every spring eye between the two towers of Fuzhou City, the turbid and smelly waves, accompanied by countless ghosts that are not as good as Huang Quan's uninterrupted sneer, a little bit. Enter the desperate state of the world.
In the river water, these inconceivable existences are higher than the estimation of human beings. They permanently guard the terrifying deep valley of the ghost country of Artemisia -and in those deep valleys, countless giant worms are slowly creeping, dirty, dirty, dirty, and dirty, dirty, and dirty. The ground digging the ground in the fragmented space. The so -called turbid and quiet spring is nothing more than their body.
Jiang Wen did not care about the vision around, but just solved the long -sealed Han Gaozu ancestor Bai Yu to cut the snake sword.
"Manican Baozhu can suppress the ghost country of artemisia, it should also be a lied from you. Master Hulu's so -called suppression, but placing Mani Baozhu on the mid -bounds of the city, using countless people in the city. , Sadness and Huan, the wishes to stop the flip, and realize this almost impossible wish. "
Jiang Wen looked at Ling Zhifu, who was in place, and continued, "The reason why people who have been radiated by Mani Baozhu can be seriously injured and immortal, and the principle should be the same as the killing of death. Let every cell in the body shout that he does not want to die, this person can continue to survive for a while in a secretive form. "
"Now the idea of this city is still unknown. The trading rashly puts Mani Baozhu into the emperor of the ancient temple of Huxin, which may only only lead Fujian Huizong's attempted obsession thousands of years ago, and put Fuzhou City City. Continue to sacrifice the yin spring palace where he is in his heart. "
Ling Zhifu said calmly.
"It's too late now. Even if you guessed my plan, there will be no chance to come back at this time. In less than a moment, the light will never appear again!"
Jiang Wen lifted the sword slowly, and the black -word Bangbao was fragmented, leaving only the last trace of the world.
"This is hundreds of years, and I have never thought that I can see the long night after the end of the Song Dynasty. Since I brought it out today, I must see it in a bright way before the dissipation and disappearance. "
"The death and lives of this city have never been in my hands. In the end, how to end, let's make it to the original figurine to decide."
Ling Zhifu suddenly changed his color when he heard this sentence, and he wanted to catch Huang Yan weirdly, because he knew that Jiang Wen had guessed the truth.
However, Jiang Wen just burst into a finger, and he popped up a blank stone that was pinched into the hot circular stone, turning it into a straight line and tightly wiping Ling Zhifu's body into the water.
At this time, the Bailima River instantly stirred up the huge waves, and the waves rushed to the shore again. It seemed that everyone would be involved in it. .
"Sure enough, the ghost country of Artemisiai did not want to devour Fuzhou City at all! The result of the flip is to die on both sides!"
For a moment before the sword was falling, Ling Zhifu suddenly felt the pain and paralysis of long -lost, and the body hidden in the shadow could not move, and suddenly he lost his familiar reliance. His hand covered his throat tightly, but his blood had exuded along his fingertips, and he could only make a strange bark in his mouth.
"Don't you want to live?"
Jiang Wen was close to the ground again, and swords on his sword to cut his good head to the air. "Mani Baozhu proves that you really want to live, then as a living person in a moment, obediently die again, let's die again. !”
The extremely powerful swordsmanship has exhausted the strength of the river, but he just pushed it lightly, and the headless corpse fell into the turbid yellow river.
"Go to Huang Yan. The ghost country of Artemisia was attracted by Ling Zhifu, who was repaid. Now you can bring it back to the original place."
Jiang Wen looked pale and helplessly sighed, "What a Jiazi has Huangquan Artemisia, and the city has fallen into the ghost. In this hundreds of years, Fuzhou City is extremely An is extremely good.
Huang Yan, who was black and white, looked at the rolling river, and also showed a fear.
"Dao, do you really can really walk? Do you really need to suppress Youquan Sea Eye in the West Lake?"
Jiang Wen stared at the dark night sky, trying to find a sign of the dawn of the dawn, and said lowly and vaguely.
"I have been so benevolent that you have provoked the chaos yourself. And rest assured, I have seen it clearly when I practiced the town of the town at the West Lake.
Huang Yiyi glanced at him in a daunting manner, and continued to ask: "Why are you so sure?"
Jiang Wen sighed quietly, whispered the last sentence, and pushed Huang Yan into the rolling waves. Seeing that the original crazy white horse river gradually calmed down, it seemed that something was quietly away.
…………
The change seems to be only a moment, the sound of Langtao and the sound of shouting became a member of the vague memory.
The new rain was washed away the smoke and dust in the city overnight, and the green willow was also blown out. The dazzling light between the leaves came from the dew, and the bright color of the dew is from the rising sun in the sky.
That smoke rain suddenly rose like this, like the last trace of the nightmare turned into a fog, covering the front corridor in front of the house with thousands of households, but the drizzle could not stop the pedestrian footsteps, and the smoke between the city was shook up.
The sound of door panels and talked softly between Sanfang Qixiang. Thousands of households have a breath in this gentle and quiet rain scene. Continue to continue.
On the open streets that everyone did not notice, a figure with a sword and footsteps was slowly away.
Until disappearing.
