Wei Shaoqi shouted anxiously at Ouyang Rong's back.
The thunder clouds were pressing against the top of the crowd, and everyone on the field was also filled with dark clouds, and they were very puzzled by the behavior of the young man in Confucian clothes.
Xue Zhongzhu frowned tightly, staring at the black cloud that was completely different from the thunder cloud she remembered, and was also at a loss.
The time she protected the second junior sister, although Lei Yun was strong, she did not have such a powerful destructive power. She was still within the scope of her own controllable situation and even made the situation confused and fishing for troubled waters.
But after using the finale of the use of the thunder catastrophe, the situation of the thunder catastrophe was much beyond her expectations.
The snow candle broke his head and never thought that there were so many "dirty things" in the field that God would not tolerate today.
One thing overcomes one thing.
Tianlei is specially restrained by things like the reincarnation of dead people, paper people and other things that go against the rules. Even if they are as strong as Cui Hao or Tao Yuanming, if they reveal too much breath, they will attract Tianlei, but they have been hidden before.
, but if you stay for too long, you will always come.
The blonde lady didn't know this, and for a moment, she felt a little depressed in her blue eyes.
Wu Daozi looked serious and said quickly:
"Your Excellency, don't be impulsive. This thunder cloud is rare in decades. It is not within the power of one person. Now you can't escape the order to resolve the Confucianism. Xiao Wei's suggestions are indeed useless. Now you can only gain a glimmer of life."
After a pause, the squinting old man looked at the bronze scroll in Ouyang Rong's hand, pointing at it and saying:
"The most urgent task is to cooperate to withstand the sky thunder. Can you return this fake tripod sword? I have experience with the great lady. With the help of this fake tripod sword, you can resist the sky thunder. Don't ask for the main thunder, just ask for it.
After slashing, avoid some of the edges and resist Yu Lei.”
Perhaps because of the collapse of the Buddha, the most hostile and stubborn Candle in the Snow did not stop Wu Daozi's appeasement and was somewhat silent.
"Mr. Wu is right, please calm down..."
Young Master Wei and Wu Daozi looked at Ouyang Rong with great enthusiasm.
The young man in Confucian clothes moved forward slowly, without looking back, and ignored him.
The same is true on the high platform. After breaking up with the crazy woman, Madam Song, Yi Qianqiu, Lao Yangtou and others first surrounded and controlled Madam Song.
At present, they can only place all their hopes on Ouyang Rong.
But the old musician's words gave everyone a heavy blow:
"It's useless, this is the Nine-level Heavenly Thunder. When I went north and passed through the deep mountains, I once saw Taoist priests of Taiqing, Longhu Mountain, assisting a rare alien Taoist priest through the thunder tribulation. It was the third-level Heavenly Thunder. Even so, on the way
It was also the talisman treasure that was released, and in the end the alien Taoist priest carried a thunder in his body, and was seriously injured and on the verge of verge. Fortunately, he prepared the purple pill of life and death in Gezao Mountain to barely overcome the tribulation and break the realm...
"This is still the Dragon and Tiger Mountain Heavenly Master Mansion, which is best at thunder in the world, and it is just the power of the third level of heavenly thunder."
The old musician sighed a little and shook his head:
"We are now the Nine-level Thunder, and the fake tripod sword is not good either. I have been a sword-holding man for many years. I know it best. Perhaps mobilizing the Taoyuan Sword Formation can withstand a thunder tribulation. There is no such example in history.
There are examples of swordsmen carrying thunder tribulations with a tripod sword, but now there are nine levels of heavenly thunder. Can we still take out the nine-door tripod sword in one breath? Not to mention that one level is stronger than the first level, and we can't catch it later."
The whole audience can be heard, only the old musician's words echoed.
Then, the atmosphere was as quiet as ashes.
Wu Daozi also gradually closed his mouth.
The face of the snow candle was blue and purple.
At the level of the two, of course, it is clear that the old musician is telling the truth, but he had a first-line expectation before.
Wei Shaoqi and Du Shuqing turned their heads and understood the expressions of Wu and Xue. They knew what these meant, and their faces turned pale.
An atmosphere called despair gradually spread across the court.
I don’t know if I heard this, but everyone saw that the young man in Confucian shirt in front of me stopped slowly without looking back. His back slightly raised his head, as if he was looking at the dark nine-level thunder clouds that were about to overwhelm everything.
Seeing this figure that was almost invincible today also stopped, as if it was proved the old musician's words.
There are no more fantasies on the field.
Yi Qianqiu, Lao Yangtou and the few female officials and soldiers in the audience gave up their resistance.
It's like giving up on oneself, standing or sitting there.
The same is true for Wei Shaoqi and Du Shuqing.
At this moment when the disaster strikes, the court and the rebels have completely ceased to fight. They are going to die together anyway. The fatigue accumulated from today's war begins to sweep away, and they are tired and tired.
Wei Shaoqi lowered his head and coughed violently again, covered his mouth and took the handkerchief away, and smiled at Du Shuqing and said:
"No matter who does it, at least the Buddha collapses. This trip is not worthy of Yan Gong."
Du Shuqing was silent, turned his head silently, staring at the slender back of the young man in Confucian clothes in front of him.
The old musician simply sat on the ground, not disgusting the dirty soil at all, and put a stringed harp on his knees.
His face was calm and he reached out to touch the wet and fertile red soil that belonged to the south.
The old man nodded slightly, as if saying... It can be regarded as a kind of return to his hometown.
Old Yang also sat on the ground. He took off his blue robe who had been wearing most of his life and took out a thin book of Confucian scriptures from his arms, drooled his fingers, twisted the pages, and took out the black clouds before they were completely covered.
The last little sky light in the sky was read with relish.
He likes a sentence from a reply from the Master of Luoyang:
If you hear the truth in the morning, you will die in the evening.
It’s not too late to study in old age, and it’s not too late to die three minutes before.
Another old man on the field, Wu Daozi, was left with only half of his body, and he couldn't see the specific expression clearly.
The old man turned his head silently, as if he was looking at his disciple Yuan Huaimin.
Yuan Huaimin, Yan Liulang, Fang sisters and others were standing near the platform.
Little transparent watched for a long time, and no matter how stupid they were, they understood the current situation.
In addition to still believing in Mingfu, standing in place with a knife in her head held high, Fang Shengnan looked a little flustered. Fang raised his sleeves and lowered his head, his eyes were sad for a while, and suddenly turned around and hugged his sister in his arms. Fang Shengnan was stunned
After a while, he hugged his sister tightly, lay on her shoulder, and said in a crying voice:
"Sister, my mother said the right thing again."
Fang raised his sleeves with a sore nose and tried to calm down his tone, asking in confusion: "What, what do you mean?"
"When she was a child, children who say they don't obey and run out will be struck by lightning. Sister, why do you always say it right?"
Fang Juxiu:...
Yan Liulang:...
Yuan Huaimin had left them at some point, lifted up the hem of his robe and walked quickly to the platform.
He never made any adjustments or adjusted his mind, and came to Yi Qianqiu, who was trembling all over and stood side by side with her.
No longer late this time.
Yuan Huaimin turned his head, looked at Qiu Niang seriously, reached out to take off the heavy sword in her hand, and threw it aside.
He hit Yi Qianqiu's tall shoulders a little childishly. Yi Qianqiu was tall and big, like a big and thick man. Yuan Huaimin was thin and tall. The two stood together, but Yuan Huaimin looked like a lively person.
Little wife”.
Yi Qianqiu suddenly spoke: "Don't you hate my private arrangements?"
Yuan Huaimin thought about it and said shyly: "It's not happy, but... quite happy."
Yi Qianqiu was stunned.
Rong Zhen, who had been standing on the high platform for a long time, suddenly shouted:
"You're back, you're not allowed to go."
Everyone looked in the voice, and saw the girl in purple-clothed palace clothes finishing speaking, she lifted her skirt with both hands, ran off the stage, and ran towards Ouyang Lianghan.
Her black-haired shawl came to him.
The height difference between the two is very big, the little girl is petite and delicate, and the man is slender and tall.
But in the eyes of everyone in the audience, one looks like the bright moon in his arms, and the other looks like lush forests and bamboos, all of which are beautiful scenery on earth.
Wei Rong, the princess of the Zhenxian of the Great Zhou Dynasty, raised her face and handed out an emerald mandarin duck hairpin on the raging streets of Xunyang:
"Ouyang Lianghan, you, please help me hold the hair. Just use this hairpin and I will help you to correct your clothes, okay..."
After pausing, she was extremely gentle in the last three words:
"OK."
Ouyang Rong hung the wine gourd back to his waist, his eyes calmed down, turned his head, and looked at the female Lord Shi who had always been serious and focused on appearance and looked cold.
He looked at the hairpin she handed out again, holding tightly as if she was treasured.
He pursed his lips.
No mistakes, one song, one post, one content, one reading!
This time, Rong Zhen did not dodge any gaze. He faced his eyes, ignored the eyes of the people around him, his teeth were as deep as a slim smile:
"My grandmother loves to miss her beautiful ladies and gentlemen. She often misses and says that my father is a true gentleman, not good at speaking, down-to-earth and simple, and never let go of our mother and daughter, just like Longcheng,
It is also a remote small county. She died of illness and went to office. My grandmother said that she had implicated her father, so she never returned to Luoyang until she died. She handed me over to the Luoyang Palace people. She supported her sick body and repaired me for the last time.
When she faced the bronze mirror, she whispered in my ear, "Cultivate her appearance and see a good man... Three days after I left, she also cultivated her appearance and saw a good man."
Ouyang Rong calmed down, took the mandarin duck jade hairpin with his palm, and looked at Rong Zhen, who was not afraid of life and death and did not regret it.
He didn't say anything, but Rong Zhen knew his meaning.
Rong Zhen tilted his head slightly and pointed his index finger behind him:
"It's all the same, it's been there."
I don’t know whether she refers to the name of the two men who were inscribed on the inscription of the lotus on the dome, or the entire Xunyang Grottoes that were completed without Buddhas.
Perhaps there are both.
Like everyone on the field who began to explain the funeral and settled the regrets one by one, Rong Zhen took the initiative to take a step forward and almost touched Ouyang Rong's arms. His toes were on tiptoe and he was taller, and his little hands were about to touch his Confucian clothes.
Leader... Ouyang Rong suddenly put away the mandarin duck jade hairpin with his backhand, and he said:
"Wait a moment."
Rong Zhen paused on his toes and saw Ouyang Rong suddenly turn around and ask the old musician:
"Are you a sword-holder?"
Listening to this tone, it seemed like I knew it for the first time.
The old musician was stunned for a moment, raised his hand and touched his thin head with sparse white hair, with a look of reminiscence:
"It's been."
Ouyang Rong shook his head and said very seriously:
"No, you are not a sword-holder, nor are you."
Everyone, including the old musician, Wei Shaoqi and Rong Zhen, opened their mouths.
After leaving a word, the young man in Confucian clothes turned around, turned his back to Rong Zhen and others, and continued to move forward.
At this moment, the thunder clouds had arrived, gathered and pressed on the top of the main grotto. It looked like a dark mountain.
Compared to the silver light that can be seen with the naked eye, the thunder has not come yet.
In the silence of the whole audience, the young man in Confucian shirt made great strides, patting the wine gourd with his palms, making some rhythmic sounds. Some people suddenly felt that the rhythm was faintly consistent with the heartbeat, and I don’t know if it was an illusion.
He patted the gourd lightly, not knowing what he was thinking.
The sound of the gourd that was beating secretly in line with the sound of heartbeat was like a heavy drum hitting everyone's heart. Everyone on the field looked at the back of the young man in Confucian clothes, unconsciously holding his breath and waiting for the thunder that was like a world-destroying judgment to fall.
!
Ouyang Rong looked calm, first turned his head and looked at the "little transparent" white sturgeon who was following at the foot, then adjusted the eighteen seeds in the palm of his hand, and then opened the bronze scroll.
A peach blossom land is vividly displayed on paper.
Ouyang Rong twisted something out of the painting with two fingers.
A thin and thin phantom.
After three hundred years, the legendary sword master twisted the fingers of [Wan Soldier] and threw it into the sky casually.
A blue sky sword shadow ascended to the side of [Mingzhu] who had been silent for a long time.
[Masterpiece] is shrouding the clear blue tripod fire.
[Woman Soldier] The sword shadow also covers the sky-blue cauldron fire shadow.
I saw that the two, real and virtual, were like magnets, attracted each other and combined into one.
The sky blue sword energy and the clear blue sword energy are also integrated.
It presents a dreamlike tone, water and sky are the same color.
Smoke cyan.
The smoke-blue cauldron fire was bigger, and even the strong wind in the sky could not shake it. The flames of the cauldron fire seemed to be still.
At this moment, Ouyang Rong stopped slapping gourd, suddenly spoke, asking the audience:
"You know why [Women] is insidious and always hung upside down in the air?" Without waiting for everyone to answer, he asked and answered himself, muttering like a dream: "Because the poor men never point the sword to the common people, only the sword to the sky, and only the sky."
Today, I have been using the sword for a long time, but an arc that has not fallen has fallen.
It does not fall to the earth, but to the sky.
In the pupils of everyone, a picture of [arc] rising into the sky and moving forward bravely was reflected.
Go back.
This time, it is not a sword against the common people on the ground.
The poor man has no hands and has a rainbow hanging down, and he doesn’t ask the people but only asks the world.
Seeing such a shocking scene, someone realized it later. When the young man in the Confucian shirt set up a sword and asked about the sword in the snow, the [arc] seemed to be from the bottom to the top, and this time it was the same.
However, the enemy is no longer the candle in the snow falling from the sky, but the thunder in the sky!
This is the sword of the legendary sword-holder.
Under the thunder clouds.
A blue and blue sword light as thin as a hair collided with the first thunder and lightning falling from the black clouds.
The next moment, the whole world was brightened three times.
The lightning and sword shadows at this moment illuminated the faces looking up in the main grotto.
There were nine times of lightning in a row, filling the entire world.
The nine thunder arcs of the sky were much faster than the thunder of the heavenly roar. They came first and came one by one... Everyone in the audience who witnessed the scene that they could never forget in this life forgot to count the heartbeats, and only felt that the heartbeat was stolen.
When they took pictures, they kept their upward posture and stood in place like a statue.
Seeing the lightning is like watching a silent drama, and hearing the thunder is three minutes late.