Lu Xiaoer stood blankly in the valley of mountains and rivers, watching the falling figure.
This scene was deeply etched in the young boy's eyes.
So even if it is hope, even if it is eagerness, after all, he is still just a boy.
It's like he is still just a young boy.
In such a story, everything is pale and feeble.
He also wanted to grasp in his heart the sword that Cao Weiying taught him, that very good sword.
However, how could a young boy who knew the water realm be able to hold such a sword?
Lu Xiaoer clenched his fists tightly.
But the next moment, the young boy suddenly thought of something.
Look up to the sky.
Mountains and rivers are springy in March.
Just like the human world.
No wind or snow.
Yes.
No wind or snow.
So when the young man's eyes followed the falling figure, the young man's figure slowly dispersed like a puff of smoke.
There is an extremely small black dot falling.
Like a head of black garlic.
That's a hip flask.
When the two of them passed by the small town in the world, although the young man under the umbrella did not make any more peach blossom wine, he always filled the wine pot to the fullest.
And they are the strongest drinks in town.
Just one whiff of it would make Lu Xiaoer feel drunk.
The little boy never quite understood why.
Until today.
When the falling figure dispersed.
A young man's figure appeared in a direction closer to the sword cultivator in white.
While drunk, he held a sword that fell into the river valley.
A body covered with green fire and a sword covered with fine snow.
With countless sword intent and Dao charm, it broke through the sword intent flowing across the mountains and rivers like breaking ice, and a sword came in the blood of those who were cut by the sword intent.
Even Zhang Xiaoyu, a young man who claimed that there is a fish named Zhang Xiaoyu in the world, listened to the sword in the wind with amazement.
It turns out that junior brother, you are no longer the weak and confused young man in Nanyi City.
Zhang Xiaoyu thought quietly.
The tattered scabbard was surrounding him, as if urging something.
There was finally some hesitation in the expression of the sword cultivator in white.
He stretched out his hand, but did not hold the scabbard, nor did he hold a clear sword that had gathered in front of him again.
It just hovered in the air hesitantly.
That sword penetrated countless Haoran's sword intentions, and was getting closer and closer to the white-clothed sword cultivator.
It was as if a sigh appeared in the mountains and rivers.
The swordsman in white withdrew his hand and looked at the sword quietly.
"I like your anger very much, Nan Dao."
Zhang Xiaoyu said softly.
Lu Xiaoer in the distance stared at this scene blankly, wondering what Zhang Xiaoyu was doing.
He has never been able to understand many things.
It's the same now.
Just like the cry for help that a certain swordsman in white once drowned in the river countless times and was ignored by the world.
The world's thoughts and sorrows and joys are incompatible.
No one knew why the sword cultivator in white stood there so quietly.
Swordsmanship teaches the principles of swordsmanship.
Zhang Xiaoyu was not thinking about anything as a young boy far away, he was just persuading himself.
But my sword is not here.
So I can be moved, infected and convinced.
so.
"please."
The sword came to him.
But what is destiny?
You held an umbrella, but a knife fell from the sky.
Lu Xiaoer thought Nan Dao had been hit by a sword, but he didn't see Feng Xue.
So after Zhang Xiaoyu finished saying the word "please", he suddenly looked at the empty scabbard beside him.
Yes.
The sword is not in its scabbard.
The endings of some stories have actually been decided in a long southern snow story last year.
The sword is not in its scabbard.
This means that a certain causal line that is still unknown is established.
Zhang Xiaoyu's expression instantly turned pale.
Under those slightly moist eyebands, a lot of blood suddenly emerged.
The kind of mind that had made all preparations to welcome death, redemption, and come ashore, under the sudden heavy blow, caused the energy in the white-clothed sword cultivator's divine sea to surge wildly, impacting his mind, impacting holding his body.
So whether it's the heart or the eyes.
On those originally clean white areas, there was a lot of fresh red blood flowing out.
The sword came to him.
But it didn't fall.
The green fire all over the young man's body was burned up and extinguished.
Just three feet away, the young man's hand could no longer hold the sword, and he fell down slumped and weakly.
The long sword fell on the mountain rocks, making many whining sounds, and rolled down randomly like a human being who had lost all strength.
Destiny is often only three feet away.
He forcibly ignited the divine sea and turned it into sword light. The young man who came through the sword intention of the sword cultivator in white held an umbrella and held up the mountain and half-knelt on the ground, coughing non-stop.
Zhang Xiaoyu stared blankly at the young man three feet away in front of him, whose vitality and sword intent had slumped away.
When did the sword left in the past fall into fate after passing through the years?
Was it the sword at the top of Nanyi City that put the boy to sleep and halted his original trajectory?
So do you really choose your own destiny?
Zhang Xiaoyu suddenly became extremely angry and grabbed the boy who was kneeling there coughing blood and roared like a madman.
"South Island!"
The extremely weak young man was lifted up in the air, his lips and teeth were bright red, but he stared blankly at the person in front of him with his mouth open. In his memory, he only seemed to have two expressions: smiling and silent, but today, for the first time, he showed his face. Brother who showed such clear anger.
The spring breeze in the mountains and rivers of the world has dispersed, and countless winds and rains have fallen on the world in gloom.
Nan Dao was in a daze when the white-clothed swordsman threw him towards the rock. When it hit the rock, it bounced out like a fruit under the influence of huge force.
All the muscles and bones in his body seemed to be broken, and his heart felt like it was ignited by the remaining fire of the divine sea, causing extremely hot pain.
Before the fruit had even landed, the sword cultivator in white, who had never let the world see his anger, had already followed closely, lifted up the young man's collar again, and punched the young man on the brow with his fist that was not holding a sword.
There was blood pouring on Zhang Xiaoyu's face, and in that anger, he looked like a ferocious evil ghost.
"Why do you only have to walk on the snow? Why do you only have the inclined bridge! South Island! It's just three feet away, it's just three feet away, it's just three feet away!"
The young man who originally told the young man to move forward slowly was dressed in white and had many blood and tears on his face. He was filled with endless anger and was going crazy like a helpless wild dog facing the mockery of fate.
Nan Dao finally came back to his senses, and the blood from the smashed brow bone flowed down, and fell into the young man's eyes that were still filled with fine snow, so the fine snow turned into mocking thin blood.
"You chose it yourself, Zhang Xiaoyu."
The young man suddenly struggled, flipped over the white-clothed swordsman who was stunned, and sat on him. He held the umbrella in his hand with both hands and smashed his head hard, word by word. The ground roared.
"You chose it yourself, Zhang Xiaoyu!"
A Taoist's bones are hard.
Therefore, the young man who had already exhausted all the vitality of Shenhai hit the Taoist's head no matter how hard he hit it, but Zhang Xiaoyu's head was only embedded in one corner of the edge of the umbrella. Under the eyeband, it was pulled out with countless messy blood.
Nan Dao pulled out his umbrella and raised it above his head again, but did not smash it down again. He just looked at this senior brother with tears in his eyes, who was clean at first but now looked more embarrassed and uglier than anyone else.
The young man had lost all his strength, so even the umbrella held above his head began to shake. But now, no one came to remind him, young man, you should hold on to your umbrella.
Zhang Xiaoyu was just lying in the mountains, rivers and rain, with blood dripping from his eye that was smashed by the corner of the umbrella. Without being able to see his eyes, he could only let the world see a lot of anger and sadness through the appearance of his face.
The young man looked down at the senior brother beneath him, then raised his head, wiped away the blood and tears on his arm, used up his last bit of strength, grabbed the umbrella in his hand, and smashed it down like wood.
Zhang Xiaoyu didn't resist.
Just like that sword.
The umbrella didn't really fall.
At that moment, when the wind brought by the black umbrellas roared incomparably, and when the sword intentions on those umbrellas were clearly and palpable.
There is an awe-inspiring sword in the world.
The mountains, rivers and human world were like shattered thin ice, extremely fragile and shattered by the sword intent that spread towards the human world.
The boy was knocked over by the sword wind, and a boy who was running all the way and was about to climb up the mountain was also knocked over.
Everything disperses.
The three of them fell into the world together.
Nan Dao hit the rock where Zhang Xiaoyu once sat, and then rolled down into the green bushes, coughing up blood in a miserable manner.
That moment of sword intent instantly wiped out the mountains and rivers that came from Zhang Xiaoyu.
It also destroys all the stories that are about to fall.
Lu Xiaoer and Zhang Xiaoyu fell into the stream together.
The two young men looked to the east of the world with extremely pale faces.
They don't know what it is.
Only the young man in white clothes, with blood all over his body, dissipated all anger, stood up in the clear stream extremely calmly, stood in the twilight, and looked quietly into the distance.
After a long time, he turned around, his eye socket was still bleeding, and he looked ferociously and calmly at the young man lying in the green bushes, coughing up blood.
"That's what fate is. That's where I stand."
Such a sentence is extremely plain and short.
There is clearly no emotion, but it seems to contain all the intangible sadness.
"That's where you stand too."
Under the stunned gazes of the two teenagers, Zhang Xiaoyu bent down and fished out the tattered scabbard from the stream, carried it behind his back like a treasure, and then walked away along the clear stream.
Nan Dao tried to stand up with one hand on the cold and wet grass bank.
It's just such a simple thing that it is difficult for teenagers to do it.
I can only watch in silence those young men in white, slowly disappearing against the background of countless gloomy Taoist texts rising in the distant dusk.
"Don't go any further, junior brother."
The voice of the bloody swordsman suddenly became gentle.
"My senior brother will not let you go."
Nan Dao said nothing more. He used his last strength to hold onto the umbrella in his hand, and with a sword wound all over his body, he lay down on his back under the twilight sky.
There was a roar of water.
The young boy hurriedly waded into the water, climbed up the stream bank and stopped next to him.
"Uncle, how are you?"
There was a lot of trembling and panic in the little boy's voice.
This young boy who had witnessed everything, naturally knew what kind of existence his uncle was facing.
Lu Xiaoer pulled his sleeve and kept wiping Nan Dao's broken brow bone. If Zhang Xiaoyu pressed harder, his left eye would be pierced by the bone.
It's like a rather ironic statement.
Taoists always act with discretion.
So that punch only broke the brow bone, but did not hurt the boy's eyes.
But sword cultivation is different.
If the boy's umbrella hadn't been exhausted, it might have penetrated the young man's head.
Nan Dao slightly raised the umbrella in his hand, blocked Lu Xiaoer's hand, and then shook his head tiredly.
Lu Xiaoer withdrew his hand and squatted aside, trembling all over.
Looking at the sword wounds on Nan Dao's body, he seemed to remember something. He raised his hand and pressed it on Nan Dao's somewhat cold arm, and transferred his water-knowing energy to his uncle.
This might actually be of some use.
The young man lying in the green bushes and staring blankly at the sky felt a little warmer in his body.
After a long time, Lu Xiaoer finally stopped due to exhaustion, hugged his knees and sat cross-legged next to his uncle, silently adjusting his breathing.
In the twilight sky, there are countless Taoist scriptures that are constantly rising to the world, running in an extremely mysterious trajectory in the sky.
It's very much like the Taoist technique called Qiankun Yigua in a long-standing story.
The entire Guangyi East China Sea was included.
Thousands of hexagrams fell into the world, exuding a turbulent and majestic rhyme, stopping all the escaping sword intent.
The two exhausted teenagers stayed quietly by the stream, looking at the scenes that seemed so far away that the whole world was in a state of panic.
"Uncle Master."
Lu Xiaoer's voice was slightly confused.
"Um."
Nan Dao's voice still sounded weak.
"Is the world coming to an end?"
Lu Xiaoer looked at the scene in the sky, the dusk was flowing, and he looked like he was in a hurry.
Nan Dao was silent for a long time, and then whispered: "I don't know."
The two young men couldn't even figure out what happened to a sword cultivator in white, so there was no need to tell a story that was further and higher.
The gradually darkening stream became silent.
After a long time, Lu Xiaoer said softly: "That should be the sword intention of senior Cong Ren."
Naturally, Lu Xiaoer had never seen Cong Ren.
Only in March last year, someone crossed the sky in Nanyi City and stepped into the years with a sword in hand.
Naturally, everyone in Lingnan has seen such a scene.
Nan Dao lay on the bank of the stream and nodded.
"So who is he fighting?"
Lu Xiaoer asked in fear.
Nan Dao remembered a misunderstanding that the short-haired boy had conveyed to Nanyi City a long time ago - Cong Ren and Shen He fought, and their heads were damaged and they were about to die.
"Perhaps it is the current His Majesty."
The young man said slowly.
There is really no problem with Xipan this time.
That is a story too far away from young people.
After a long silence, the young man who finally regained some strength sat up with an umbrella, then bent down towards the stream, raised his hand to pick up a blue-black sword, and then stood up holding the sword.
Lu Xiaoer also stood up, searched around in the stream, and brought back the Xiwu Sword and Parrot Island. As for the other swords, they would naturally return to the Sword Lake in the future.
When Lu Xiaoer found the two swords, Nan Dao was already holding an umbrella and leaning on the sword, walking slowly in the direction where the sword intent came from.
At the end of the dusk clouds in the distance, a high cliff of more than 3,000 feet can be faintly seen, but it is quite illusory.
But that doesn't mean Gaoya doesn't exist.
It's because things that are too far away will always become blurry after crossing the human world.
The wind in the world is light-colored rather than transparent.
"Uncle Master, are you still going to the East China Sea?"
Lu Xiaoer held the two swords and stood blankly at the spot where Nan Dao had been lying.
The young man walking with a sword under an umbrella not far away just said softly: "Yes."
Even those calm words of a swordsman in white made both young men feel a deep sense of inexplicable fear and sadness.
But maybe that's exactly what it is.
So what should come will always come.
.....
Such is fate. That's where I stand.
.....
The Taoist held the Taoist boy's hand and stood quietly on the top of the Spring Wind Mountain somewhere in the world.
The moment before Haoran's sword fell towards the world, he was already standing here.
He was already standing here long before those stories really came to the world.
Traveled through the entire East China Sea.
Sprinkle those Taoist skills into the world.
"Did those two people fight?"
Wang Xiaohua felt the frightening atmosphere in the air, raised her head and asked.
Bu Suanzi was silent for a while, watching countless Qiankun Taoist techniques inspired by the sword intent rising up into the sky to remove the sword intent scattered in the world, and said softly: "Yes."
"Is it in the East China Sea?"
"Yes."
Wang Xiaohua shuddered.
Suddenly I felt extremely cold.
So she shrank into the Taoist's robe.
"Didn't we agree that people like them will not be alive in the world if they fight?"
Bu Suanzi said slowly: "If they are still reasonable, of course it will be like this, but the problem is that if they are still reasonable, they will not fight in the human world. So once they can fight, whether the human world is the human world or not will not matter. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
"Who is unreasonable? That human majesty?"
Wang Xiaohua didn't know why, but it was difficult for her to have a favorable impression of the owner of that mellow and deep voice.
But the fortune teller beside him seemed to be shaking his head.
"No, it's Cong Ren who is unreasonable."
"Why is this happening?"
Wang Xiaohua opened her mouth wide, somewhat incomprehensible.
"Because he is forcing Kamigawa to make a choice, whether to live in the human world or to become a so-called immortal."
Wang Xiaohua stood there in a daze.
"Then what will your Majesty choose?"
"Your Majesty will not choose."
Bu Suanzi said softly.
"Cong Ren is injured, so he will just beat Cong Ren to death."
Silence fell on the dusk hilltop.
