He drew his mahogany sword.
"Master, please calm down!" Chai Xiang pleaded worriedly, "It has nothing to do with Zi Temple, it is my decision!"
Yankong's ears heard her voice, but he didn't care at all. It was as if he was deaf, as if he was in trance, forgetting everything around him, and the only thing left in his heart was anger, the ever-expanding anger.
Anger flowed along his right arm, pouring all the anger into the peach wood sword in his hand.
The thoughts of killing were cruel and cold, drilling into the wooden cells of the peach wood sword, injecting new power into them.
Killing intent filled the peach wood.
The cells of the mahogany trees were filled with rage.
In an instant, the peach wood sword burst out with a biting chill.
Chai Xiang and Duan Zong exclaimed when they saw this.
The peach wood sword in Yan Kong's hand turned into a steel sword.
"Master!"
Chai Xiang panicked. She had never seen such an angry Yan Kong.
"Master, please calm down," Duan Zong said calmly, "I just don't want to mention the matter of returning to Dali."
"If you don't mention it today, what about tomorrow...?"
Yankong's whole body felt like he was bathed in molten iron, and he could no longer control his rage.
In normal days, whenever he occasionally thought that Chai Xiang would leave him one day, he would avoid this thought, and then he would have trouble sleeping with an uneasy mood.
He could no longer bear Chai Xiang leaving him.
He couldn't bear the thought of Chai Xiang leaving him for Duan Zong.
The steel sword was raised ferociously, and the sword edge went straight towards the person whom the anger hated.
The cold sword body suddenly trembled, and he drank the bright red blood, freezing the blood into a thick pulp.
Iwakuri is empty.
He didn't realize at all that he had taken action.
What made his eyes burst with blood and bloodshot eyes was that the sword was buried in Chai Xiang's chest.
He yelled like crazy, drew his sword hastily, and took a few steps back.
"Oh my god! Xiaoxiang!"
It was Duan Zong who shouted.
Duan Zong hurriedly supported Chai Xiang, his eyes anxiously searching for the vitality on Chai Xiang's face, but all he saw was that the blood on her face was fading little by little, and her trembling lips were struggling to breathe air.
Yankong was stunned, stupid, crazy, crazy, and stiff, staring at Chai Xiang with straight eyes.
Did I take action?
Did I take action?
he asked himself.
Did I really stab Xiaoxiang?
Or is Xiaoxiang blocking the sword for him?
He kept asking himself this unanswerable question.
"Master..." Chai Xiang was still struggling to speak, "Please, promise me...don't..."
Duan Zong gently covered Chai Xiang's lips and shook his head, not wanting her to continue talking.
Blood continued to gush out from Chai Xiang's chest, dyeing Chai Xiang red, dyeing Duan Zong red, and also dyeing Yan Kong's eyes red.
Duan Zong knew that Chai Xiang could no longer survive: "Xiao Xiang, look at your own palm...it will be less painful this way."
Chai Xiang smiled and shook his head: "I...I have seen it, but...what I saw is...hell."
"You see heaven for others, why do you see hell for yourself?"
Duan Zong gritted his teeth, holding back the tears that were about to burst out of his eyes at any time.
Chai Xiang stroked Duan Zong's hand and said with difficulty: "When I saw my family members dying in a pool of blood... I thought, I would do the same... Then, I fainted, and in my coma, I saw hell. Cold, hot, painful... After I woke up, every time I looked at my palm, I would see a terrible hell, but why... others would see it..."
Before he finished speaking, Chai Xiang's eyes turned white and his consciousness suddenly blurred.
Duan Zong squeezed her hand tightly, hoping it would hurt her and trying to prevent her from dying so quickly, even if it took a few more seconds.
"Master..." Chai Xiang suddenly woke up again, "Hell is so scary, I don't want to die."
Yankong's eyes became more and more frantic, and the cold flames scorched his eyelashes.
Chai Xiang suddenly lost his strength, and his whole body collapsed. The last word "death" stuck on his lips, and the last word turned into a hissing sigh.
Duan Zong gently put down Chai Xiang, stood up slowly, and faced Yankong.
"Master," he said.
Yankong shouted: "You killed Xiaoxiang, you killed Xiaoxiang, you killed Xiaoxiang!"
He rushed towards Duan Zong, the steel sword in his hand trembling, eager for blood to subdue the angry flames.
Duan Zong showed his straight knife, and without saying a word, he unleashed a hail of knives. The sky was filled with bright sword light, and he used the air as a canvas to write sad words one after another.
Yankong was shocked by Duan Zong's momentum and stopped in shock. In just a second, he realized that Duan Zong's sword technique was neither offensive nor defensive.
He was really just writing.
Yankong no longer hesitated, and without thinking whether he needed to hesitate or not, he stabbed with his sword.
The sword penetrated the thin chest muscles, passed between the ribs, and penetrated into the heart, drinking hot blood.
Duan Zong's blade just passed by and cut off Yan Kong's sword.
Yankong suddenly lost his momentum, holding half of the steel sword in his hand, and took a few steps back.
Only now did he see clearly that the half of the sword inserted in Duan Zong's chest gradually lost its metallic luster and turned back into simple peach wood.
Duan Zong weakly swung the last sword.
The blood gushing from his chest mixed with the blood stained on Chai Xiang's body, turning it into a brighter and more intoxicating red.
Duan Zong still stood, letting the blood crawl down his body, rendering and expanding on the ground.
Iwakong finally regained his consciousness and watched in surprise what he had done.
The sword in his hand fell to the ground, making a chaotic sound like peach wood hitting the ground.
He opened his mouth wide, but could not make a sound. Tears dripped from his lips and into his mouth. After a long time, he let out a mournful scream.
After Iwakong narrated this old story, he panted hard and tears flowed down his face like a fountain.
Yun Kong gasped after hearing this. He couldn't believe that the senior brother who had taken care of him and whom he admired when he grew up with his master actually did these things.
The irrational killings have destroyed the achievements of Yankong's decades of cultivation.
Yunkong felt his chin itching, and it turned out that at some point, a teardrop had been hanging there: "What happened next?
Senior brother, how did you bury them here? "
It can be seen from Yankong's narration that the place where he killed the two disciples was far away from here, so Yunkong couldn't help but ask.
"I burned them," Yankong said. "I was afraid that Zici would be resurrected, and I also hated that Zici would be resurrected, so I cremated him completely."
He closed his eyes tiredly, "I carried the ashes of the two of them and walked for several years. Suddenly I remembered the place where my junior brother lived as a layman, so I slowly walked here to live in a house and practice...
I don’t want to think that many years have passed and I still can’t go back to the original path of cultivating Taoism. "
Yun Kong completely understood.
What he saw before him was just an old man who was constantly regretting and torturing himself with the painful memories of the past.
"Brother, it seems that Duan Zong, who was reduced to ashes, has been resurrected even though it took more than twenty years. If you meet, what do you want to do?"
"Let him do as he likes." Yankong took a deep breath, "I regret that I couldn't control my mortal mind, which caused irreversible results and planted bad karma."
Yun Kong nodded and looked in the direction of the cabin outside the forest. The cabin could not be seen from here, but the sky above the cabin was filled with a mass of strong resentment. The filthy resentment slowly rolled and roared, and he felt even more painful because of the pain. The pain is like the endless cycle of hell fire.
Yun Kong lightly pressed the peach wood sword at his waist, stared at the resentment that only he could see, and thought for a long time.
Just as he was about to take a step toward the hut, he was stopped by Yan Kong's voice.
"I shouldn't do this, I really shouldn't do this." Iwakora murmured almost in a whisper, "If fate is playing tricks on people, why did they let us meet in the first place...?"
Yun Kong glanced at Qi Qi uneasily, waiting for his senior brother to continue.
"Yunkong," Yankong raised his head and looked at his junior brother, "Do you know my senior brother's lay name?"
Yun Kong was stunned and shocked.
I was shocked because my senior brother, who was already very old, looked even more desolate at this moment, almost like a dead leaf that would break into powder if he picked it up.
At that moment, Yun Kong realized that he had never thought that his senior brother had a lay name, and he had never heard his master or senior brother mention it, or reveal it in any conversation.
A problem that had never been a problem suddenly swelled in Yun Kong and became very important.
If anyone had mentioned it, it was the people from Longbi who seemed to know some of the ins and outs... He wanted to know: "Brother, I have never paid attention to it. Is there any connection between this?"
Yankong nodded and said: "You said that Zicihui and Xiaoxiang are attracted to each other, maybe because they have similar temperaments. They both have prominent backgrounds, and they also suffered family breakdown... In fact, when I first met Xiaoxiang, I also had this feeling, even when I saw Zici for the first time...but it was a dangerous feeling."
