The death of Lao Qian made Chu Luozhao a little sentimental. He stopped talking and closed his eyes to rest.
For a moment, all I could hear was Song Xing's quiet voice turning the pages of a book.
The Taiping Guangji in his hand was bought in an old bookstore at the foot of the mountain. It collected folk legends of the Six Dynasties, legendary stories of the Tang and Song Dynasties, gods and monsters, Taoism, alchemists, strangers, and plant and tree spirits. It was quite enjoyable to read. taste.
After five years of getting along, one old and one young have become accustomed to this way of getting along.
It's cold in the mountains, reading books, practicing martial arts, the day goes by very quickly.
As the sun set, Song Xing closed his book, walked skillfully to the kitchen at the back, and started boiling water for cooking.
When the food was ready, Chu Luozhao came over after smelling it.
On the dinner table, there was a plate of vinegar fish sprinkled with minced ginger, a pot of fried spinach, a plate of salted duck eggs, and a handful of peanuts.
The staple food is a large bowl of rice and four steamed buns.
Chu Luozhao's hometown is in the north and he doesn't like rice, so Song Xing specially steamed noodles for him.
The two men sat opposite each other. Song Xing took out a jar of turbid wine and filled a bowl for Chu Luozhao. The old man picked it up and drank it with peanuts, as if he was drinking nectar.
Song Xing sat down, picked up the rice, and started eating.
Before finishing the bowl of rice, Chu Luozhao had already drank more than half of the wine. His face was slightly red and he was a little drunk. He tapped the table with one hand and hummed softly.
The first few sentences still have a hint of northern Gaobang, but later it turns to Shaanxi Qinqiang, and the voice reveals a rough and bold attitude.
After Song Xing finished eating, he put down his chopsticks and watched Chu Luozhao eating and singing. After he finished eating, he took the dishes and chopsticks and washed them clean, and then helped the old man back to his room to rest.
He went to fetch water from the stone tank in front and wiped Chu Luozhao's face. The old man fell asleep drunkenly.
Song Xing stood up and was about to leave, but he heard Chu Luozhao's vague voice coming from behind him: "How are shopkeeper Qian's affairs?"
"There is a neighbor who I know well, and I spent money to control his family." Song Xing's face was hidden in the darkness, and his voice came from the darkness.
"Very good, very good..." Chu Luozhao muttered and fell asleep.
Song Xing walked out of the room and looked up at the sky. On the fifteenth day, the moon was full, illuminating the earth in front of him with a bright silver color.
Stepping out and crossing the practice field in front of the door, Song Xing turned around and galloped towards the depths of the forest outside.
Song Xing soon came to a cliff. With his legs and feet strong, he climbed up the cliff in a few seconds and sat down cross-legged at the highest point.
The bright moonlight poured thinly on his body.
As Song Xing breathed, the moonlight seemed to be integrating into his body little by little, making his body stronger and lighter.
Half an hour later, Song Xing started practicing boxing.
The strong wind was raging on the cliff, and Song Xing turned into the wind, showing a speed that was enough to make Chu Luozhao stunned.
If Chu Luozhao were here, he would be able to recognize that Song Xing's moves at this moment were completely out of the scope of what he had been teaching for the past five years, and they were not the boxing techniques he taught at all.
That's a kind of speed that breaks through the limits of the human body! And precision!
As Song Xing's speed became faster and faster, more moonlight merged into his body, making his moves faster and more powerful.
In the inaccessible mountain forest, figures dance like ghosts under the moon. If an unexpected intruder sees this scene, he will definitely think that he has encountered a ghost.
It wasn't until dark clouds covered the bright moon that Song Xing stopped. After taking a short rest, he took out a long knife and a white ape mask from behind a big rock on the cliff, climbed down the cliff, and rushed down the mountain.
...
In Beicheng, Cangwu County, under the curfew, except for a few bangs, it was as quiet as a ghost.
Xicheng, on the other hand, completely ignored the county government's decree. The lights were brightly lit, the Flower Street wine shops were overcrowded, and the city was filled with the noise of dignitaries having fun.
While the rich wine and meat smell, the road with frozen bone.
At the junction of West City and North City, three or two beggars huddled on the street corner. Only a dilapidated wine shop was still open for business. The dirty wine curtain swayed in the wind in the dark night, giving off a bit of shabbiness.
The curtain was opened, and the night wind came in, waking up the waiter from his nap in the wine shop. When he looked up, a white ape mask came into view.
The ordinary white ape mask seemed a little funny, but it made the waiter subconsciously swallow his saliva.
The waiter steeled himself, stood up and asked with a smile: "What does the guest need?"
Snakes have their own paths, rats have their own paths. Few people know that this humble wine shop, in addition to selling wine, is also engaged in other businesses.
If the government represents the bright side of Cangwu County, they represent the darkness of Cangwu County. Here, as long as you have money, you can get many things.
"I need a waist card." Song Xing's hoarse voice came from behind the mask.
"Our store just provides this kind of service. I wonder what kind of badge a customer needs?"
The waiter had just put a smile on his face, and before he had finished speaking, a bright sword light suddenly lit up in front of his eyes.
What followed was a burst of intense gunfire.
The light of the knife illuminated the horrified face of the waiter, and then a dense barrage of bullets smashed him and the counter to pieces.
At the last moment of his life, what he saw was the white ape wrapped in a sharp sword, breaking through the barrage, smashing the wine curtain, and rushed out of the wine shop.
Relying on the intuition honed in life and death, the moment Song Xing felt the crisis, he decisively drew his sword, exerted force on his feet, and rushed out of the wine shop.
While still in the air, he saw clearly a row of more than ten Qing soldiers wearing yamen uniforms outside, maintaining a shooting posture with their guns raised.
Behind these Qing soldiers, there was another row of Qing soldiers, who were training their guns and pointed them at themselves in the air.
Song Xing, who was in the air, suddenly shrank. His height suddenly shrank from 1.8 meters to less than 50 centimeters.
Then, under the surprised eyes of the Qing soldiers, Song Xing's body ejected in the air suddenly fell down in a way that completely violated the laws of nature, and landed on the ground in the next second.
Immediately afterwards, the body that landed on the ground bounced and rolled into the crowd.
The Qing soldiers behind immediately lost their target.
The light of the sword lit up, like a tiger entering a flock of sheep. The Qing soldiers, who had lost the threat of firearms, were completely unprepared to face Song Xing's lightning-fast sword light.
In an instant, four or five Qing soldiers had their throats sealed with a knife and died under Song Xing's knife.
The Qing soldiers in the back row were horrified and subconsciously raised their guns and started shooting.
What was hit was the surrounding robes, and four or five more of the Qing soldiers who had been besieging them fell instantly.
When the gunshots and screams came, there was a three-story wine shop called Mingyue Tower not far away. By the window of the tall building, at the Eight Immortals table covered with wine and food, two people were sitting, staring at the fight in the dark night.
A thin middle-aged man wearing a Confucian robe and an ugly rat tail looked at him with a mixture of awe and flattery, pouring wine for an old man next to him who looked like a white-faced steamed bun, and said:
"Your Majesty, you are really clever. How many people have failed to catch the white ape who killed a thousand swords, and today he fell into the trap of your Majesty."
The fat old man raised his wine glass, took a sip of it implicitly, and said with a smile: "It's just a piffle. Even if it's a bit brave, how can it be compared with us."
"My lord, that's what you said," the thin man nodded in agreement, "please drink this cup again."
Hearing the fat white old man speak confidently, the thin man let go of his nervousness and waited for the good news that the white ape had been killed.
