Chapter Five Hundred and Twenty Two (Refreshed and Readable~) Wine, Old Confucianism, Mo Xia Sword,
(ps: Still coding, brothers, please refresh at three in the morning!)
"Who is behind you? Who gave you these!"
Zhao Rong raised his head fiercely and stared straight at the old Confucian scholar whose smile was getting more and more crazy.
His eyes were as sharp as a sword.
The old man in front of him was completely different from what he remembered before.
When I met this old Confucian scholar on Zhuque Street half a year ago, he was well-dressed, tall and serious.
But now, he is disfigured, rickety and miserable.
I don’t know what he has encountered and experienced these days. The old man carries an unknown fourth-grade golden elixir and a mysterious cigarette bag, and may even have some other back-up tools.
It seems that he is only looking for revenge...
Qin Jianfu didn't answer when he heard this.
Quietly, he hung the gray tobacco bag on the copper tobacco stem again.
Behind him, the handsome girl and the flying sword swing were once again frozen in place as if they had been cast a restraining spell.
The girl's biggest back-up to turn the situation around has been deceived. This time, the old man no longer has to deliberately show off his flaws.
Moreover, as the joke of 'that man' said, this pretty girl who followed Zhao Rong really had something hidden in her body that could kill him.
It's a pity that it's all under the control of 'that person' who gave him the tobacco bag and the golden elixir.
Thinking of this, the crazy smile that had been hanging on the face of the disfigured old Confucian scholar since his appearance slowly subsided.
He became as cold and gloomy as an ancient well without waves.
Qin Jianfu no longer hesitated. He reached his side with his withered hand and grabbed it with his five fingers. The purple gold token that was about to be activated at Zhao Qianer's waist took off with a whoosh, broke the rope and fell into his hand.
The old man lowered his head, slightly bent his withered fingers, and gently opened the mouths of some gray cigarette bags.
Throw this purple gold token, which symbolizes the identity of the genius seed of Taiqing Xiaoyao Mansion and serves as a positioning and deterrent.
The purple gold token shrank in circles, drew an arc, and was sucked into the tobacco bag.
Qin Jianfu's withered finger hooked at the small crystal sword hanging in the air not far away.
The swing moved, but this time the sword was not used according to the owner's wishes.
It let out a mournful sword cry, and then spun around uncontrollably. The sword shrank, and like the Purple Gold Token, it was sucked into the unknown tobacco bag.
The situation is unknown.
Zhao Qian'er's chest rose and fell violently.
She pursed her lips tightly, her eyes still glaring with murderous intent at the calm old Confucian scholar.
However, the next second, a line of bright red blood still curved down from the corners of her tight, white lips.
The sword cultivator lost contact with his natal flying sword, which was connected to his heart, just like a fish losing its gills.
The girl's eyes were red, but her face was stubborn and unyielding at all.
Qin Jianfu did not look at the wild girl behind him.
He turned his head and clapped his hands as if he had just finished a few trivial chores.
He walked towards Zhao Rong as if nothing had happened.
The disfigured old man had a stooped body. He held a three-foot-long copper pipe between the fingers of one hand. At the same time, he silently held the gray pipe in his hand. He raised his other hand and patted the dust on his sleeve casually.
The movements are neither hasty nor slow.
Approaching Zhao Rong step by step.
The disfigured old Confucian scholar looked at the young Confucian scholar with a terrifying calmness.
This time, it seemed that I no longer had to wait for Zhao Rong to finish his decapitation meal.
However, in the courtyard, there was a girl whose delicate body was shaking violently.
He struggled to squeeze out some words, "You, you, let go... Brother Rong'er..."
Qin Jianfu raised a bent finger without looking back.
The next second, the handsome girl's voice paused.
"Uh...uh...uh."
Zhao Qian'er's mouth was completely sealed by an invisible magic force, and she could only watch the old Confucian scholar's hunched back approaching the defenseless Brother Rong'er.
A desperate and struggling whimper gradually came out of her throat.
However, Zhao Rong did not go to see the girl.
He turned his head directly and said to Qin Jianfu calmly and seriously:
"If I die, I will not resist, and I will cooperate with you in any method of death... You... let her go, just let her go."
The girl trembled and burst into tears.
Qin Jianfu raised his eyelids.
He saw the eyes of the young Confucian scholar in front of him with unprecedented solemnity and...pleading?
"Ho ho."
The old man smiled.
He turned around in an instant and walked directly towards Zhao Qian'er, who was stunned and choked.
He wanted to first torture and kill the people the young Confucian scholar cared about.
Just like the young Confucian scholar who made him helpless in the face of the death of his beloved son.
Zhao Rong, who had always remained calm, gritted his teeth and trembled all over. His cheeks bulged back and forth violently, and his gums drew blood from the bite.
"Cough cough cough!"
At this time, the old man suddenly coughed violently.
He bowed his waist and patted his chest like a shrimp.
He pulled out the copper cigarette rod behind him, held the cigarette holder in his mouth with trembling lips, and took a puff with all his strength.
It looked like a hungry wolf had eaten delicious food, and his face turned red.