Later in the evening, Xu Qingmu found the old beggar who was chopping a piece of wood with a knife. The old yellow dog lay at the beggar's feet with his eyes closed. Hearing the boy's footsteps, he quickly got up and rubbed his head against the boy's leg. The boy was there.
He sat down on a shabby chair on the left side of the door and quietly stared at the old beggar busy with his work.
The old beggar did not raise his head: "I heard about Lin Zhenbei."
"Yes." The young man responded softly, and continued to watch the old beggar keep chopping. The old beggar would lift the wood in his hand from time to time, click it with one eye, and then continue to lower his head to carve.
The whole room became so quiet, except for the sound of the old beggar's carving knife on the wood, the only sound was the old yellow dog's heavy breathing.
"Teach me how to practice swordsmanship."
The old beggar put down the carving knife in his hand and looked up at the young man.
"The calluses on your hands are very thick. You don't plow the land or work. Apart from practicing swordsmanship all year round, I can't think of the second possibility." The young man said calmly. These years of living under the shelter of others have made Xu Qingmu develop early.
Acuity beyond that of his peers. In order to survive better, a very young boy can remember which house has a dog, which house has a dog, whose owner is not at home, and which house has hot meals in the kitchen waiting for returnees.
The old beggar lowered his head and continued to fiddle with the carving knife in his hand, still making no sound.
"I went to the storyteller in the south of the city. He didn't know anything about the Four Great Shanggong Academy in the world. Only people from Jianghu can understand it so clearly." The young man said the word "Jianghu" very strongly, as if he had a violent aura.
His good friend, his only good friend in the past twelve years, died in that arena.
The old beggar finally put down the carving knife in his hand. He raised his head and looked at the handsome twelve-year-old boy in front of him: "So what if you master the sword? Avenge Lin Zhenbei?"
Xu Qingmu shook his head: "I promised him that I would protect his family. I would live well for him and look at the rivers and seas."
The old beggar smiled.
In just an instant, sword energy flew across the entire room. The old beggar, who had been bullied by others and had been submissive all day, suddenly changed his aura. He was dressed in tattered clothes without any wind. As the old beggar slowly stood up, a stronger pressure made the young man feel like
Trapped in the quagmire, unable to move even an inch. The aura emitted by the old beggar was like a white rainbow rising into the sky, causing people from all directions to look up.
A young man with white hair on a hilltop put down the chess game in his hand, stood up slowly, and looked at the rising momentum of Funiu Town: "Senior brother, senior brother, do you finally dare to show your face?"
In Tuo Mo Mountain in the west, a Taoist who walked barefoot with a pair of yin and yang fishes on his head stopped and looked at the northern sun. He put his hands together and silently recited "Infinite Heavenly Lord". The little girl next to him raised his head and looked curiously at what the master in front of him was doing.
Stopped suddenly.
In the Sword Qi Pavilion located in Middle-earth, the old pavilion master who had been in seclusion for a long time suddenly opened his eyes, and sword Qi flew across his body: "Song Laoer, do you still remember the revenge for killing your wife back then?"
In the Dongfang Xu Palace, a eunuch suddenly stood up, his expression changed dramatically, and he immediately wrote a letter and sent it to the Dowager Empress.
The old beggar used the carving knife in his hand to chop the wood in his hand for the last time. Suddenly, wood chips flew everywhere, and a wooden sword stood in his left hand. Then he said in a deep voice: "I am Song Zihan." Then he stepped heavily on the ground with his right foot, bringing up a burst of dust.
.With a horizontal movement of his right hand, a sound of Qi penetrated the rainbow:
"Here comes the sword!"
At the bottom of the pool in the south, a touch of rosy red broke through the water and splashed. A rusty iron sword more than three feet long slipped into the old beggar's hand, and the sword clanked. It was like a pet that had not seen its owner for a long time, cheering for joy.
The old man looked at the iron sword in his right hand and his eyes softened: "Old man, I haven't seen you for twelve years. The world has forgotten you and me."
The jade sword is cut by the autumn frost, and the pearl robe is worn by the setting sun!
The young man was shocked, but he couldn't help but feel a sore nose: his good friend, a young man of the same age named Lin Zhenbei, should have been like this.
But because of him, it stopped there.
The old beggar looked at the young man in front of him, stretched out his left hand and handed out the whittled wooden sword. After the young man took it, the old beggar held the sword in front of his chest: "Song Zihan, Zhijie Sword Cultivator, sword - Wushuang."
The young man surnamed Xu also held the sword in front of his chest: "Xu Qingqian, I am not yet a swordsman, so if you wear a sword... Nianbei!"
An old man and a young man looked at each other and smiled.
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When the Xu family's cavalry arrived at the scene of Lin Zhenbei's accident, the ground was already in a mess. The body of Zhenhushan swordsman, who was killed by a sword, was half dragged on the table. The couple at the inn fell into a pool of blood, and their daughter was naked and knelt to death.
At the table.
"Fucking beasts, I have to find you and execute you for three generations!" Even the cavalry leader, who was used to seeing life and death, couldn't help but curse in a low voice.
Horrible.
"Separately look for Mr. Lin Mansion. We want to see his body. At least take the body back for burial." The leader ordered. The general had a good impression of the Lin Mansion who took the initiative to show his kindness. This job must be done to the loyal general who licks blood with his sword.
I want to help. But the strange thing is that after searching the entire inn, there was no body of Lin Zhenbei. Only an embroidered sword pattern was left on the table. One of the sharp-eyed soldiers reported that this pattern was the official concubine of Master Lin.
Patterns on the body.
The leader groped his chin and said quietly: "It's interesting. Get out!"
A group of soldiers mounted their horses and rode away.
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Song Zihan and the boy were sitting face to face in the house, with the old yellow dog lying on the side.
"Sword cultivation means using the sword to prove the Tao. It's a long road to embark on the path of sword cultivation, and the only companion is the sword." Song Zihan explained.
"Sword cultivators are divided into three levels: lower, middle and upper. Each level has three realms. The world is more accustomed to referring to sword cultivators as realms one to twelve. The further you go, the greater the gap between each realm! A tenth realm sword cultivator can barely fight two
It's called the Nine Realms, and one Eleventh Realm sword cultivator can easily defeat five or six Tenth Realm sword cultivators. Of course, people in the same realm are different, and it mainly depends on whether they have a solid foundation."
"In addition, practicing sword techniques is particularly important. State is always the foundation, and the sword practice of sword techniques can not only promote sword cultivation, but also bring out full strength. Good sword techniques are particularly important!"
The old beggar Song Zihan said without reservation.
"Everyone in the world is accustomed to distinguishing the strength of swords, but the sword itself is always a dead object. It can only be said that the hardness, material, etc. determine the strength of the sword body. A true strong swordsman can transform all things for his own use.
Two fingers can cut down stars, one palm can split mountains and shake seas!"
After the old beggar finished speaking, he carefully rubbed his sword Wushuang. He continued: "My sword was given to me by my master, and he has been with me for forty years. I have worked hard along the way, old man.
"
The last words were spoken completely to the sword called "Wushuang".
The young man looked down at the wooden sword lying across his legs, feeling happy. The young man was thinking about the treasures he already had: an ancestral leaf, a hairpin, and a wooden sword. It seemed that he was qualified to enter the world.
What else is missing?
The young man lowered his head and thought.
Suddenly he touched the wine bottle on his waist.
The young man smiled knowingly: Competing in style after drinking, three glasses of wine to make a sword!