The scholar in white stood silently on the road that used to be very clear. At this season, there should be trees with leaves gradually turning bright yellow. There might also be swordsmen with white hair on the temples, drinking wine and interacting with the swordsmen. The riverside that tells stories to the world.
That was how nature used to be.
There used to be crying and laughing here.
But now it's all silent.
It's not just silence, maybe there's something else.
For example, some small graves where the dug-out soil has not completely faded are like abscesses growing in some green hills.
There is a broken sword stuck on the tomb, and a wooden board stuck in front of the tomb as a tombstone. It says - Lingnan Tingfeng Sword Sect, the tomb of Three Hundred and Seventy-Three Swordsmen.
The Prime Minister did not recognize such a so-called Sword Three Hundred and Seventy-Three, and this was not the real name of the sword cultivator buried underneath.
But for a certain little sword cultivator who came back from the East China Sea, there was no information that could indicate his identity on the rotten bones of such a sword cultivator dug out of the green mountains.
Lingnan swords never have names.
The sword of Lingnan has always been named Lingnan.
If Chen Huaifeng dies, and later generations find his bones and pick up his sword, from the places where the name may have been rubbed off on the sword, it can still be seen that there were words "Wolfberry" and "Senior Brother" written there, so we will understand that this It is Chen Huaifeng.
But Lingnan won’t.
The world will only find a sword with a weak sword intent, a broken sword body, and nothing left.
No one recorded the names of the sword cultivators who participated in the battle like Zhou Shan, the warden of Yunjue Town, did at the time, so that he could know who died and where he was buried.
So the little boy could only carefully identify the blood-colored dry clothes on his body in the order in which he found them, and give them such cold names.
The prime minister stood there in silence, looking at the name for a long time.
He was guessing whether he was Tingfeng Yin, the leader of Tingfeng Sword Sect.
It's a pity that it will take a lifetime to guess something like this.
The scholar sighed melancholy, picked up the wine bottle at his waist, took a sip of wine, and then continued walking along the stream.
Along the way, the green hills are full of graves.
Gradually there was the sound of digging in the distance.
The prime minister stopped at the grave under a certain tree. This was the tomb of the Eighty-sixth Sword of the Jinghong Sword Sect.
There are others in the distance, such as the Xiaojiufeng Sword Sect and the Tomb of Sword Four Hundred and Sixty-Seven.
And by the stream in the distance, there was a young boy with a gray face, holding his Xiwu Sword, kneeling on the ground and digging at the moist soil by the stream.
This is probably the only Lingnan sword cultivator that the Prime Minister has recognized along the way.
At the bank of the Nanyi River, this little boy made a mistake and was beaten to pieces by his uncle with a peach branch. So he wrapped his hands like a rice dumpling, but still held the sword and stood behind a group of Lingnan sword cultivators. When he came out, he was talking about Lingnan Xiaobai Sword Sect Lu Xiaoer.
It's probably really hard for people to forget such a young boy.
His cultivation talent may not be outstanding in the human world, but his extremely delicate eyebrows are indeed difficult for anyone who has seen him ignore.
Therefore, the prime minister who came riding a flying fairy also remembered this young boy.
Next to the young boy were some highly decomposed corpses of sword cultivators. After a while, they would probably turn into nothing but bones, but the clothes on their bodies would still be there.
Sometimes viable things disappear much faster than inanimate things after being abandoned.
Qing Xiang stood there quietly, looking at the young boy.
There are no graves further forward, only the green hills that have become silent in the color of blood. Even the color of blood is no longer obvious, turning into a black stain silent in the sword marks.
The grave had been roughly dug, so the young boy silently put down the sword in his hand and looked at the empty tomb, which was like a bigger and deeper carrot pit. There was no sighing sound.
Only the wind rustled the leaves all over the mountain, the stream gurgled through the rocks, and the dull breathing of the young boy.
The young boy dragged the body over and put it into the mud pit. Then he filled in the soil bit by bit and inserted a broken sword on it. Finally, he took out a chipped wooden board and inserted it into the pit. On it, use a sword to carefully carve on it - Jinghong Sword Sect, sword one hundred and seventy-six.
The young boy's expression on the carving was very serious. The round face that had been eaten in Shanyue City now has edges and corners. When viewed from the side, they are very prominent, just like the grid of a sword, which shows that he is thin. meaning.
The wind blows all over the mountain, blowing over the leaves that are gradually withering in autumn.
The young boy finished carving the wooden tablet, and finally stood up with his sword in hand. He rested for a while, then looked around. When he saw the prime minister standing there holding a wine bottle, Lu Xiaoer fell silent.
As if he had not seen the scholar, the young boy looked away calmly.
Continue to search for some places with broken swords in the mountains.
Although Lingnan is a cultivator of Sword Intent, in the original war, such a Sword Sect bore the brunt of the collision with the rebels, Huangliang Wujia and the people of Wugui Dao.
This is Huaian's first line of defense.
It is also the most tragic line of defense.
Facing the menacing army, Lingnan never retreated until his death. He held the sword in his hand until his sword energy was exhausted. Like everyone else, he was drowned in the torrent of the army while fighting closely.
Therefore, where there is a broken sword, there will naturally be the body of Lingnan Sword Cultivator.
The little boy just started to look away a little, and then he saw the broken sword leaning diagonally by the stream.
He didn't say anything, he just leaned on his sword and walked slowly towards that side with tired steps.
Lu Xiaoer stopped in front of the broken sword, and raised his hand to pry open the lush saprophytic plants. Below was a corpse that had turned into white bones. That kind of short plant called water hosta, then It grew out of those clothes and was very lush.
Fallen leaves return to their roots.
Jianxiu died in his hometown.
Of course, everything will turn into nourishment for this world, just like starting over.
Lu Xiaoer silently pulled out the plants from the corpse. The head of the corpse was not here. The young boy searched for it for a while, but there was nothing nearby. It must have flown far away.
The young boy didn't go looking for it either.
He had to erect many tombstones, and there were some things that he probably just didn't have time to do.
Lu Xiaoer moved the corpse and the sword away, squatted there with the sword, and carefully identified the clothes that were not completely rotten.
This is a sword cultivator from the Qin Yun Sword Sect.
People outside Lingnan probably don't know the existence of such a sword sect. After all, the Lingnan sword sect is an aggregation of many sword sects.
About the same existence as Xiaobai Sword Sect.
This may be one of the only combat strengths of this sword sect.
After Lu Xiaoer recognized the origin of this sword cultivator, he breathed a sigh of relief.
In fact, he has always been afraid that he would not be able to recognize the identity of such a swordsman, and in the end he could only write a general Lingnan Swordsman.
He was also afraid that he would see something familiar in the clothes of such a sword cultivator.
Lingnan Qinyun Sword Sect, the tomb of Jianyi.
Lu Xiaoer muttered such a name softly, then knelt down, inserted the Xiwu Sword forcefully into the mountain, and began to dig the grave bit by bit.
A young man's grave will not be dug too deep, nor too wide.
As long as it can be used as a tomb to hide a corpse that has been beaten by wind and rain for several months, it will be fine.
But even if it was just like this, the boy wouldn't dig many graves in one day.
There is not only soil in the mountains, but also stones.
Although the young boy is a swordsman, his sword is sharp enough with some sword intent, but after all, it is a human being and not a mechanical thing.
Lu Xiaoer's hands were full of sword wounds, usually because he suddenly stuck the sword on a stone and cut himself, or he was exhausted but still wanted to finish digging the grave in front of him, so The hand slipped down.
Lu Xiaoer actually couldn't remember how many graves this was today, but throughout June, he had dug nearly a thousand graves.
Fortunately, he is a practitioner after all.
If he were just a human being, this would be impossible no matter what.
After Lu Xiaoer finished digging the small grave in front of him, he did not put the body in it like before. Instead, he walked to the stream and immersed his hands and feet in the stream together with the Xiwu Sword.
The cold stream water can really refresh people's spirits and take away a lot of fatigue.
It's just that the physical exertion is inevitable.
Lu Xiaoer sat there, breathing slowly. The dirt on the Xiwu Sword was gradually taken away by the stream, like a silver fish. Even after digging so many graves, this sword is still intact.
The young boy would sometimes be grateful to such a senior from Tianya Town.
If he hadn't given him such a sword, he probably wouldn't have been able to dig so many graves.
Lu Xiaoer didn't feel any guilt about using such a sword to dig into the earth.
As a tool, a sword is a truly good sword if it can be used for practical purposes.
It can be used to play music, as Le Chaotian said, or it can be used to dig in the soil.
Nothing is off limits.
While Lu Xiaoer was resting there, a flash of white flashed by his side, which seemed like moonlight in a trance. However, it was only dusk in Lingnan, and even if there was really moonlight in the sky, it would not be so bright. .
A jug of wine was handed over.
Lu Xiaoer looked at the pot of wine for a long time, and calmly rejected the kindness of such a great monster in the world. He raised his head, and the gray-faced young man's eyes were very calm.
“I don’t want wine, I want food.”
Alcohol speeds up blood flow and takes away more calories. Naturally, this is not what the young boy wants.
Qing Xiang looked at Lu Xiaoer quietly, finally put the wine bottle back, turned around and headed towards the mountain.
It didn't take long for such a great human monster to leave.
When he came back again, he was holding a deer with its head smashed.
The prime minister sat down by the stream, took a look at the emaciated young man who was in a mess, lit a fire, took off the jade pendant from his waist, turned it into a sword, cut off the deer meat, and used a pot to The wine inside was poured on it, and then it was placed on the fire to roast.
The venison gradually gave off an alluring aroma. The thousand-year-old demon always used some grilling skills. It was golden in color, dripping with oil, and sprinkled with wine, giving it an even more special aroma.
The prime minister threw the venison in his hand to the young boy by the stream.
Lu Xiaoer was not afraid of being burned, so he picked it up from the creek, brought it to his lips, and ate it with big mouthfuls.
The prime minister sat there and watched quietly, drinking the remaining wine in the pot.
"I thought you would have tears in your eyes and look at me fiercely. Every bite you take feels like you are eating my meat."
The scholar in white raised his hand to wipe the drink from his lips, looked at the young boy and said softly.
Lu Xiaoer just lowered his head and ate barbecue to replenish his physical strength. At the same time, he was breathing in the vitality of the world, replenishing his divine sea, and cultivating his sword intent.
"If I can't kill you, there's no point in doing that. If I can kill you, there's even less point in doing that."
Within a few months, the little boy seemed to have changed into a different person, talking about these things very soberly and calmly.
"I didn't expect you to kill a deer for me to eat. In fact, I have already made plans to rest for a while and spear fish myself."
However, the thirteen-year-old boy tore the venison hard, which made him look ferocious. As the piece of venison was chewed off, the boy's expression calmed down again. Only his two cheeks were bulging. Chewing.
"But that doesn't make me think you're a good person, Dean."
"The wind blood of Lingnan, those dead swordsmen, can't pay off their debts with just a piece of venison."
The prime minister turned his head, looked at the waning moon hanging in the sky at dusk, and said calmly: "Yes."
Lu Xiaoer said nothing more, just lowered his head and ate the food carefully.
In fact, such a piece of venison was undoubtedly extremely huge for a young boy, but Lu Xiaoer ate it all into his stomach bit by bit, and then lowered his head like a little calf, stretching out his head to drink. With the stream.
The deer that Mr. Qing killed was not too big, but even if the young boy really wanted to stuff it into his stomach, he would not be able to stuff it in. He would only stretch himself to death.
So after Lu Xiaoer drank the water from the stream, he pressed the Xiwu Sword on his knees, rested for a while, then stood up and walked towards the dug grave again.
It was still the same process as before, putting the bones in, filling it with soil, inserting the sword, and finally wrote the name that I had been chanting for a long time, for fear of forgetting.
Lingnan Qinyun Sword Sect, the tomb of Jianyi.
The prime minister sat there and watched quietly.
The young boy didn't say anything to Qing Xiang. He just held his sword and continued to walk forward in the dim sky.
The green hills gradually fall into the night.
In fact, sometimes the bones are easier to find after nightfall.
Especially in such a wide open stream.
On the half-slopes of those green mountains, when the moonlight falls, the swords scattered in the mountains will emit a faint cold glow.
Perhaps it is like a series of silent tombs.
Just the tomb in the image is still not enough.
The four words "to rest in peace" are often the last and best destination in the world.
After Lu Xiaoer ate some food, he found five swords and their broken owners.
So they were buried together in this green mountain.
At this point, the young boy finally rested. He washed the dirt on his body by the stream and cleaned the sword. Finally, he found a bend in the stream leaning against the rocks and sat down there.
The sword spirit around Lu Xiaoer was very weak.
But it also has some solid meaning.
The young boy may have never used the sword so frequently. Although it is only used to dig graves, it can be regarded as a way to sharpen the sword.
In such a repeated and long-lasting story that consumes the vitality of the world, Lu Xiaoer came out of seclusion not long ago.
But this probably won't be of much use.
In human stories, many Dao cultivators have died.
Of course, there is no need to talk about entering and exiting the customs.
The prime minister sat by the stream in the distance, drinking wine and looking at the young boy for a long time.
There are broken swords everywhere in the green mountains, exuding a faint light in the cold moonlight.
I don't know how long it took, but the young boy suddenly turned around, looked at the prime minister sitting there, and asked a question with great confusion and hatred.
"What exactly do you think?"
The prime minister sat there drinking wine calmly.
"You have to ask His Majesty."
"You can't defeat His Majesty, so you come to bully the Lingnan Sword Sect?"
The young boy who had been calm for a day finally sounded very angry after burying many sword cultivators.
The Prime Minister was silent for a while and said softly: "I didn't want to bully the Lingnan Sword Sect, but..."
The scholar in white raised his head in the dark night of the green mountains and looked at the broken swords that were spreading all over the mountains and plains with a cold light.
"It's because they don't want to retreat. I thought that you people from Lingnan were stupid. But I didn't expect that you are really that stupid."
The Prime Minister's tone was also a bit fierce, like a person who drank wine because of something and finally got drunk, pouring out his troubles with great passion.
"Take a step back, step back! They can continue to survive in the world. I have never thought about really having to fight Shan Yue. I just want His Majesty to surrender!"
The white-clothed scholar's tone dropped again, and he raised his head to drink.
"But they didn't, and neither did His Majesty."
The young boy may indeed be unable to understand what the Prime Minister said - this may be why the Prime Minister is willing to say it.
Of course, if you speak quickly, you should say it to people who cannot understand and cannot be connected.
In this way, they will not use reason to shake your determination.
"To this day, I actually can't tell who is right and who is wrong."
The prime minister said softly.
"But right or wrong is no longer important. When you draw an arrow, you can never look back."
Lu Xiaoer really didn't want to understand the Prime Minister's confessions.
No matter how right he is, the story of Lingnan will always be bleak.
"Dean."
The young boy held the Xiwu Sword and sat by the stream, interrupting the scholar in white.
"You just can't look back."
Lu Xiaoer silently looked at the grave of Jianxiu who had never found his head this afternoon.
"But the people in Lingnan lost their heads forever."
