Kamigawa left the East China Sea.
After a certain swordsman in white died, and after a certain boy who threw his umbrella stood in front of the cliff.
That wind and snow covered many things very well, although the story behind the snow has not yet been told.
Nan Dao held the umbrella again and stood in the fine snow that gradually subsided, looking at the emperor who turned around and walked away into the distance.
Lu Xiaoer stood behind Nan Dao with his sword in his arms, supporting the shaky young man.
Nan Dao looked at the departing emperor with a pale face for a long time, then turned to look at the high cliff.
Lu Xiaoer was silent for a while, looking at this uncle who had finally exhausted all his energy and sword intent in order to come to Mo Jian Cliff, he said, "Are you going to climb the cliff today?"
Nan Dao nodded and looked up at the spring night world where the stars were sparse and everything was falling.
"Today is the fifth day of the third month in the year 104 of the Great Wind Calendar."
Lu Xiaoer didn't know what such a day meant.
Nan Dao held an umbrella and leaned on his sword, slowly walking towards the high cliff where clouds and mist began to gather again.
"On the fourth day of March last year, I arrived at Nanyi City."
The exhausted young man whispered.
"On the fifth day of March, I went to Xuanxu Courtyard. On the sixth day of the third month, I started practicing."
Nan Dao walked slowly while talking, and Lu Xiaoer followed step by step behind him.
"Tomorrow will be the year when we officially start practicing. I can't break the promise."
Lu Xiaoer didn't say anything else and silently followed Nan Dao forward. Although he didn't know what kind of agreement the young man had, he also understood why Nan Dao suddenly started to rush after arriving late.
After practicing for a year, he climbed Jian Cliff.
This is what Qiu Xi'er said back then.
Of course, it was impossible for the young man to climb to the top and reach the Zhuojian Platform. It was a height that most sword cultivators in the world could not reach.
The last ten feet of sword intent represents Qing Yi's height when he was young.
Nan Dao walked to the first step, stopped, and looked down at the dent on the sword step where a certain sword had been inserted.
Those were the traces left by a sword cultivator in white who lay down under the cliff and slept for a while last year.
Nan Dao bent down, raised his hand and touched it, and then said calmly: "This is Zhang Xiaoyu's sword intention."
Zhang Xiaoyu once visited the East China Sea and climbed Jian Cliff. Everyone in the world knows this.
Lu Xiaoer stood there in silence. He naturally had a lot of incomprehensions about what happened between this uncle and the sword cultivator in white.
Nan Dao stood up straight, breathed a long sigh of relief, and did not mention the sword cultivator in white again.
He raised his head towards the long sword steps that were filled with sword intent and went straight into the clouds and mist.
Three thousand six hundred and fifty feet.
It means the ten-year sword sect who spends ten years sharpening his sword.
Of course, such a sword sect has long since disappeared from the world. When Hong Yi died in the Styx River, when Hong Zhenshan died on the side of Jian Abyss, when the Demon Ancestor died in the East China Sea, 490,000 Li.
The Sword Sect has disappeared in ten years, leaving only Mojian Cliff.
The remaining fine snow in the world was still floating, and Nan Dao stood quietly in front of the sword steps, waiting for the fine snow to fall.
Some people want to wait until the wind and snow arrive before climbing the cliff; some people wait until the fine snow falls before climbing the cliff.
Lu Xiaoer stood there solemnly, breathing a little heavily, looking up at such a high cliff deeply.
This is the highest place in the world and the source of today's sword sect.
It is a place that every sword cultivator in the world tries to visit.
Lu Xiaoer is naturally no exception.
Therefore, his mind was a little dazed, his heart was a little surging, and at the same time, he was also worried about his uncle's upcoming climb to the cliff.
"Uncle Master, can you ascend the sword level now?"
Lu Xiaoer looked at it for a long time, then turned to look at Nan Dao and asked.
Nan Dao didn't answer, but at the moment when the fine snow subsided, he raised his legs and stepped forward.
The moment the young man stepped onto the sword steps, the young man standing at the foot of the cliff clearly saw the clouds and mist surging violently on the cliff. And those sword intentions that were silent on those stone steps along with the dust in the world also came to life in an instant and came towards the young man.
When Lu Xiaoer saw this scene, his face showed some joy.
Those sword intentions are not hostile.
Does this mean that my uncle can successfully climb this high cliff in the world?
But the next moment, the joy on Lu Xiaoer's face disappeared. After the initial gentleness, those sword intentions suddenly became extremely fierce, like a swordsman who had been silent for a long time and suddenly regained his strength. As if holding a sword.
A slight sword wound appeared on Nan Dao's body instantly.
White clothes.
Lu Xiaoer thought of such a name.
This is more than just the name of the realm of sword cultivation and sword intention.
It was the ninth disciple of Tsing Yi back then, the young swordsman who almost killed every Taoist sect in the world.
Mojianya Qianzhang Sword Intention comes from the sword intention of that boy who lived more than a thousand years ago.
The surging clouds and mist are like white clothes, and the fine snow is still and like white clothes.
Lu Xiaoer's face turned pale again when he looked at the extremely fierce sword intent flowing across the sword steps.
Although these sword intentions are far inferior to the previous sword intentions that flowed across the entire East China Sea, the meaning they bring to such a young boy is naturally different.
The young boy looked at the sword intent wandering among the cloud cliffs in a daze.
How old was the sword cultivator in white when he went down the cliff for the first time and cried to all the sword cultivators in the world? Twelve or fourteen?
The entire cliff is filled with that kind of extremely proud and youthful sword spirit.
The little boy standing at the foot of the cliff felt that he was getting smaller and smaller, so he raised his head higher and higher, as if he was about to break his neck.
Yes, this is the real white clothed realm.
But when his eyes fell on his uncle again, the shock and wonder that felt like facing the vast sea gradually subsided.
The young man held the umbrella and had already walked ten feet in the sword intention.
Obviously the young man didn't do anything, but Lu Xiaoer seemed to have heard the sound of many Qingyue swords.
Then the young man's Peach Blossom Sword came out of its sheath, surrounding the young man with a lot of sword intent that seemed to be resurrected from the ashes.
The sword in white is like the wind and snow.
So the wind and snow are inaccessible.
"Uncle Master."
The young boy suddenly called out to Nan Dao.
Nan Dao turned back while holding an umbrella.
The young man's face was still tired and pale, and his divine sea was still empty. However, he stood firmly in the flow of sword intent like a stubborn rock.
"I'll wait for you at the foot of the cliff." Lu Xiaoer rarely smiled brightly like this.
"Of course, if Uncle Master doesn't come down after going up the cliff, let your sword tell me."
The young boy had no doubt that his uncle could climb this high cliff and reach the ten-year-old sword sect's mountain gate, which was a thousand feet tall.
Nan Dao nodded and said softly: "I will be back."
I wonder if Lingnan should be good.
But said.
This place of peace of mind is my hometown.
Lu Xiaoer held his sword and waited quietly in the night.
The young man held the umbrella and walked slowly in Yunya's sword intention.
Mojian Cliff Mojian Cliff.
Some sword intent is slowly being tempered and polished.
.....
Cong Ren is dead.
Cong Ren died like this.
Cong Xin stood there stiffly, holding such a sharp sword in her hand.
So why did you come all the way from Nanyi City to Donghai?
The peach-clad girl once again turned into the little girl she was before. She was holding some dust in her hands. There were some new dust in the world. In the night when the fine snow stopped, with burning light, it fell down and fell. into Cong Xin's little hands.
It took Cong Xin a long time to finally come back to his senses among the dust that had been wiped out by the sword and fell into the world. There were big tears rolling down in his eyes, which were more crystal clear than starlight and brighter than sword light. Brighter, the drops fell into the palm of my hand, reflecting all the burning light.
This peach blossom demon who had been weeping in the Sword Sect for thousands of years finally dropped his tears to the East China Sea, but he still couldn't retain anything.
The little Cong Xin stood in the big messy human world, inserted the sword in his hand into the soil in front of him, lowered his head, clenched the hand full of dust, and put all that What I missed a thousand years ago and is still missing after a thousand years, I wrapped it up with some fallen peach blossoms and placed it somewhere close to my body.
When Cong Xin finished all this, he raised his head again and looked at the dust and light that were still falling towards the world, and then fell back to that broken green mountain.
"Zhang Xiaoyu!"
Cong Xin had called such a name countless times.
Reluctantly, she wails like a female ghost.
Some with annoyance and some with a sense of ridicule.
But it was nothing like today, filled with anger and sadness.
The sword cultivator in white, who was blindfolded and even had one eye pierced by an umbrella, stood up from the green mountain.
With blood and tears on his face, he stood on the top of the shallow snowy mountains that suddenly stopped for a moment, facing the little Cong Xin who fell in the big human world.
"Sorry, Cong Xin."
Everyone was saying sorry to Cong Xin.
What's the use of just being sorry?
Regret has been cast, this is a life of missing everything in the long wait.
Some sudden green light passed by in the world.
The sword in Cong Xin's hand has disappeared.
But the sword cultivator in white clothes was nailed to a rock.
The sword with a hilt like a peach branch was trembling slightly.
Zhang Xiaoyu kept coughing, and he naturally heard the tracks in the wind.
However, he didn't want to hide.
The sword did not pass through his heart.
It was just nailed to his left shoulder.
Then it turned into countless peach blossoms, flying and falling to the world.
Zhang Xiaoyu raised his hand and touched such a sword hole. The blood flowed like a stream, but it was not fatal, so he lowered his head and stared blankly at Cong Xin who was standing in the huge broken East China Sea world.
The peach blossom demon who looked like a little girl was just looking at the dust and light that were still scattered between the sky and the earth, and the trajectory of the sword was still visible in it.
After a long time, Cong Xin lowered his head and looked at the dust shining brightly in the light snow.
At what moment did Cong Xin calm down?
Then he turned around and headed towards the East China Sea.
"Zhang Xiaoyu."
This little girl's voice is still childish, but it has a lot of calmness.
"You have to remember..."
Cong Xin's steps stopped and she didn't look back.
"You are his most proud disciple."
Zhang Xiaoyu leaned against the rock in a daze, and the trajectory of the sword in the wind was extremely clear.
When it passed the three feet where a certain swordsman died, the sword of Peach Branch Qingxi was faintly lifted an inch.
Just like a sword half-inserted in a flat lake, the sword underwater is broken.
The little girl named Cong Xin came with a sword and left empty-handed.
But instead of going back to the south, he went to the East China Sea.
She wanted to take a look, from a distance, where another sword cultivator died.
...
On the high cliff, the woman in the white dress still stood on the edge of the cliff holding a sword.
Such a complicated story ended in a development that no one expected.
She once thought that Congren would die in Kamigawa's hands.
Just not.
She also thought that Cong Xin would die in Cong Ren's hands.
Just not.
Cong Ren died in Zhang Xiaoyu's hands, due to the cause and effect of the sword.
When Cong Ren's remaining sword intent fell on Fang Cun, another sword suddenly came from a snowy southern time and landed on Fang Cun.
Until the end, she was ready to face Kamigawa.
So a young man finally rushed over exhausted, put down the umbrella in his hand, and with the arrival of a snowstorm, he forced away such a human emperor who shocked ghosts and gods with his sword.
Mojian Cliff.
Maybe it really is time to die.
Qiu Xi'er thought calmly, her eyes falling on the young man who was walking towards the high cliff.
A year may not be considered very short, but it is not very long either. Even for people in the world, and not beings like them who look like humans but are not demons, it can happen in a blink of an eye. The years passed.
It's just that such a young man seems to be able to climb the thousand feet that I mentioned before.
Is this a good thing or a bad thing?
The sword in Qiu Xi'er's hand turned into a sword hairpin again, fell behind her head, and held up the waterfall of black hair.
Such a long night is slowly passing away.
...
Kamigawa stood quietly in the autumn twilight.
Whether the spring stars in the world are dim or the spring sun is brilliant has nothing to do with such a river that seems to carry the returning colors of the world.
The long twilight of autumn.
In the dusk, there was a young man in white sitting there with empty hands.
There was a little sadness in the expression of that young emperor in his youth, which was hard to detect.
"You are dead, junior brother."
Kamigawa said softly.
The young man in white just sat leisurely by the autumn water, looking up at the flying maple leaves.
"Yes."
When Cong Ren also died, the generation that was engraved on the Tonggui Monument, only Shenhe was left.
The Prime Minister is later, but Chen Yunxi is earlier.
Only Congren Kamikawa Qiushui and the others are true contemporaries, and they were also the three disciples of the first sword Congzhongxiao in the world.
Neither of them said anything more, they just stayed on the bank of the autumn water.
A small boat is slowly coming from a distance.
Black, like the black soil and umbrella trees of the Yellow Mountains, also like the color of the dead night,
"Do you really want to kill me?"
Kamigawa's eyes fell on the small boat.
"It's absolutely true, senior brother." The young man Cong Ren sat on the bank of the autumn water. As the black boat continued to approach, the figure of the young man in white continued to fade.
"But I can't understand why, senior brother, you are so out of touch with the world."
Kamigawa looked towards the north and said softly: "Master taught me."
Cong Ren laughed, his whole body shaking with laughter.
"The old bastard is laughing in the bush."
"He taught Gou Qian and he taught you, but he never taught me."
Kamigawa said slowly: "Because the you back then is who I am now, and the me back then is who you are now."
Cong Ren raised his hand and wiped away two drops of young tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes.
"Yes, yes, yes. If I were laughing in the bush, I would not teach such dangerous things to an unhappy person."
Kamigawa chuckled softly. This human emperor was not so easily impressed when he was a boy, so Cong Ren sighed infinitely, so his old friends died infinitely, and he only felt a little sad, like those fallen friends. Like maple leaves in the autumn water, they disappear in an instant.
"So junior brother, have you learned that sword?"
Cong Ren said softly: "I learned it."
So the boat came slowly.
The young man's blade slowly dissipated.
There was a lazy swordsman in white sitting on the head of the boat, holding a wine pot in his hand. He was pressing it into the autumn water, filling the whole pot.
The young Kamigawa quietly looked at the middle-aged swordsman who was being carried to the River Styx by a small boat, and said slowly: "This kind of water should not taste good."
Cong Ren leaned lazily on the bow of the boat, smiling slightly.
"It's been a long journey, just a way to relieve my homesickness."
Kamigawa sighed softly.
"As it should be."
The black boat carrying the white sword cultivator passed the black boy in the orange glow.
"Kamikawa."
Kamigawa turned his head and looked at the white-clothed swordsman who was flowing backward along the river that fell down the mountain.
He didn't call him senior brother here.
But Kamigawa.
The meaning is naturally different.
Just as a worldly person, talking to another worldly person about some words before leaving.
"Whether you want to hold the sword or go to heaven."
Cong Ren said calmly, raised his head and took a sip of autumn water.
"Remember to take care of your human world."
Kamigawa said softly: "I will."
Cong Ren nodded, feeling a little melancholy.
"I heard that if you drink too much water from the Styx, you will forget everything, and the kingdom of Hades should be very big. I don't know if I can still find that old bastard."
Kamigawa said slowly: "Yes."
"I am leaving."
Cong Ren said such words very calmly, then leaned on the bow of the boat and left calmly.
Kamigawa stood quietly in the dusk until he watched such a small boat go to the River Styx above the human world. Then he lowered his head again and turned around to look at the lonely sword stuck on the bank of the autumn water.
The child was always there, guarding the sword, but the two of them acted as if no one was around.
The child trembled a little, pulled the sword out of the mud on the river bank with its sheath, and backed away.
He knew that since the young man in white was dead, no one would come to help stop the young man in black.
However, he was still scared but also said stubbornly.
"I can't give you this sword."
Kamigawa just walked forward calmly.
Just for a moment, the young man suddenly turned his head.
There is a sword intention in the autumn water.
