"This is...Master." Taking a deep breath, Qingqing was silent for a long time before slowly spitting out these words.
At the moment when tears were about to wet her eyes, Qingqing clenched her fists tightly, blocking the tears that were about to burst out from her heart. Walking in the world, she saw too many swords and swords, but Qingqing still endured it.
I couldn't help but shed tears for every encounter and separation, and those eyes were now hazy, as if they had become rough tearful eyes that did not belong to this age.
Qingqing stared blankly at the pair of broken straw sandals. There were two holes on the toes of the straw sandals. Ling Feng's body was hanging in the air, and he could even see that the soles of his feet were worn out. Qingqing did not dare to look up.
, for fear that my eyes would adapt to the darkness and see my master's simple cheeks that had never been stained by the world, and the long, stiff tongue hanging out of his mouth.
At some point, noisy and running footsteps could be heard on both sides of the cave, but Qingqing seemed as if he couldn't hear anything and still refused to take his eyes away from his master's straw sandals.
In the darkness, there was a "swish" sound of a torch lighting up.
Ziqin held Qingqing's shoulders, fearing that if she took a step back, Qingqing would be unable to stand and fall down. The chaotic footsteps stopped around the two of them, and under the firelight, several young but determined people were reflected.
Face.
"Linghu thief! You still won't surrender!"
Someone yelled, and then several "swishes" were heard as the swords were unsheathed, seemingly surrounding Master Linghu and his disciples.
Qing Qing still didn't look back, but when he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the people who came were not much older than him. They were all dressed in black, with spacious cloaks covering their heads, showing pale faces.
These are all disciples of Mr. Ruodong of Xi Miyu Lake, the head disciple of "Miyu Tianke".
Hearing this bold roar, Ziqin glanced towards the place where the sound came from. However, Mr. Ruo was not found among these young knights. Wherever Ziqin glanced, those young people who were not experienced in the world restrained themselves.
Shivering constantly.
Although his whole body was shaking with fear, he still held on to the hilt of his sword and refused to take a step back.
The eldest disciple who seemed to be the leader took a step forward, and with a clatter of the blade, most of it was unsheathed. He looked directly at the leader of Linghu with stern eyes: "The descendants of the Linghu family violated the rules of the world and are still in Bayin.
There are several lives lost among the four weapons! If you don’t stop, you will..."
Before he could even utter the last word, he saw a small fingertip-sized stone flying up from the ground like a ghost, flying completely silently in the air. By the time the eldest disciple heard the cold breeze with murderous intent, it was already too late.
——
The stone passed through the disciple's right temple, and a stream of red blood and white brain matter flowed down from one side. The stone passed through the other side silently, and rushed out of the disciple's temple with splashes of blood.
The disciple's Tianling Cap heard a "bang" sound, and the stone was deeply embedded in the cave wall, splashing with flying sand and gravel, and fell with a rumble at the feet of the other disciples.
But Ziqin still held Qingqing's shoulders, and Qingqing's eyes did not move away from the master's straw sandals for a moment.
The young hero from West Lake, whose mind was filled with stone, seemed to be stunned for two moments. He stood there with his eyes wide open, looking at the leader of Linghu, and then at the disciples of Linghu. Then he opened his round pupils tightly, and suddenly
He fell backwards.
Several disciples hurried forward, held the young man's body in their arms, and shouted:
"Brother! Wake up!"
But their senior brother seemed to have been awake all along, but was temporarily unconscious. The huge pupils under his eyelids were still looking into the darkness.
The few people who were standing there saw the Dongshan Linghu family's weird skills. They were so scared that you looked at me and I looked at you. Although no one backed away, no one dared to say a word.
"Where is Mr. Ruo?"
Ziqin looked at the group of disciples with childlike faces and asked in a deep voice. No one among the disciples answered, and no one came forward. They all pressed the hilts of their swords tightly, showed fierce eyes, and looked at the order.
The fox leader looked over with a frosty face.
Qingqing could vaguely feel that the master's hand on his shoulder was exerting slight force. If these stubborn West Lake disciples still refused to take a step back, I'm afraid that no one would be able to walk out of this darkness alive without even using a stick of incense.
The dark cave at the bottom of the mountain.
As almost no one could notice, Ziqin shook his head slightly. Under Dongshan, all these young and girls who had great potential in the future died here. It was really a pity.
It's just that the Sword of West Lake is only an inch away from being unsheathed, so I have no choice but to do it myself.
During the stalemate, another burst of footsteps was heard behind everyone, mixed with the sound of dripping water, and they continued to approach the direction of the master and apprentice. Different from the previous noisy and messy, this burst of footsteps was very quiet, like
All the masters restrained their voices and silently walked deeper into the cave.
All the disciples in Xihu looked back and in unison retreated to both sides to make way.
Until these footsteps approached, it was clear
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Qing then turned his head together with his master. He saw two young heroes, Jing Ming and An Ge, whom he had not seen for a long time. Behind him were dozens of younger disciples, pushing a figure in green and approaching step by step.
Qingqing's eyes widened for a moment——
Senior Sister Qichuan's only remaining arm was tied behind her back with a thick hemp rope, and a rag was stuffed in her mouth. She limped and was pushed by a group of West Lake disciples and walked to Ziqin.
The moment Qichuan's bloodshot eyes fell on Ziqin, he fell to his knees with a "plop".
Without saying a word, tears streamed down his face.
Jing Ming coughed twice and pretended to smile: "If Master Linghu wants to see Mr. Ruo, please come with his disciples." The implication was that if Ziqin disappeared, he would immediately wipe Qichuan's neck with the sword in his hand.
Qichuan raised his face, leaving his slender neck exposed to the sword blade, and shook his head at his master.
Ziqin's eyes were cold, like a huge wave rolling into the sky, but there was not even a drop of splash. The cold calmness forced into Jingming's eyes, and he felt a strong sense of oppression constantly coming, and he didn't know what was being pressed in his chest.
It was like it was blocked, and amid the muffled sound, I gradually became out of breath.
"lead the way."
Leader Linghu's voice was calm, Qichuan screamed, and was about to kneel forward to block the master's path. But the few West Lake disciples who were guarding him had quick eyesight and quick hands, and held down the eldest disciple Linghu.
He made a "please" gesture to the headmaster and Qing Qing.
Qingqing followed the torch and looked at the skylight in the distance. The light did not seem to be dazzling, and he could clearly see the way back to the mountain.
When the lonely wind blows, Lirongshan Shupu Pavilion feels cool.
Linghu Qilang's pure white hands flew gracefully and continuously between the silk threads that were as white as jade snow. Her slender fingers held the silver needles, hanging on the invisible hidden threads, and lifted them up into the air, gently and delicately.
Falling on the colorless brocade surface.
The beautiful silk threads are all invisible and can only be understood by one's own mind. One stroke at a time, the embroidery falls in mid-air where ordinary people cannot find it.
The sound of rustling silk threads rubbing against brocade noodles is very pleasant.
Qilang was embroidering stitch by stitch. Nan Jianing was sitting next to her, and she seemed to have seen the invisible thread wandering in Qilang's palm, embroidering some shape. She looked at the intimate person beside her.
She was embroidering patiently, her expression was the same as usual, and she was even humming a little tune in her mouth. Jianing couldn't bear it any longer, and lay on Qilang's shoulder, sobbing loudly.
Qi Lang turned around and was about to smile, but tears came out of her eyes first.
"Why are you crying? You and I have clearly agreed that we will never be separated no matter where we go."
Jianing nodded, unable to bear it any longer, he hugged Qilang into his arms, letting their tears spill on each other's clothes. Qilang opened his eyes slightly, only to see that he had just repaired it a few days ago.
The good blue robe was now torn by Jianing with a big hole.
After saying that, she wiped her face with the back of her hand, Qilang unbuttoned Jianing's collar and took off his torn robe. She turned around and made an unhappy look: "Sewing and mending all year long, you don't know when you can
Be careful."
"Lang..." Jianing finally couldn't help it, smiled silly, scratched his head and said, "Ning was wrong..."
"Huh." Qi Lang glanced at him sideways, but her eyes were full of reluctance, "Every time I admit my mistakes so quickly, I have never seen you missing a few patches when you practice." At this point,
Somehow, the tears fell down like broken beads.
Jianing stretched out her hand and wiped away the tears on Qilang's face: "Really, this is the last time, never again."
After saying that, he hugged Qilang's waist, wishing to hold her body tighter.
The crack was like a doll with its mouth open, slowly closing in Qilang's hands. Just as the cold wind poured into the Shupu Pavilion, the Linghu girl suddenly asked:
"Ning, do you really have no regrets about following me to this unfamiliar place, Lirong Mountain?"
"Of course not!" Jianing shook his head vigorously like a child, "If we talk about life, I have known you for so long, and no one is more familiar with your temper than me; if we talk about unfamiliarity, I have been in the mountain for almost a year.
, even the picture albums in the Shupu Pavilion have been torn through several copies, is there anything unfamiliar to you now?"
Hearing what he said, Qilang sighed softly: "Everyone on Keli Rong Mountain is used to being simple, and it is far from as pompous as Sui Qionglin; and the descendants of Linghu have been resented by various sects in the rivers and lakes for a long time. You
This is the second son of the Nan family, so why bother..."
Before she could finish speaking, Jianing's broad palm covered Qilang's mouth.
Linghu girl's eyes widened suddenly, and her hand that was about to finish embroidering the tattered robe couldn't help but stop. Jianing's palms were very delicate. Perhaps because she had been holding the brush for a long time, small bulges protruded from her knuckles. They were slender.
Her five fingers were pressed tightly against Qi Lang's lips, which were mottled and were completely scratched and healed by hidden lines.
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"Lang, if today is just an ordinary day, you are tired of looking at me, tired of looking at me, as long as you don't want Ning to appear in front of you again, Ning will not say anything, turn around and go down the mountain, from now on, you will remain anonymous for the rest of your life...for the rest of your life, you will only have the same name in your heart.
I miss you alone. But today, even if you beat me, scold me, or drive me away, you still can’t. You and I promised to be together—"
"Just like this needle and thread, how can there be any reason to separate them?"
Amidst intermittent sobbing, Qilang couldn't bear it any longer, grabbed Jianing's hand covering her face, buried her head in it, trembling all over, and cried loudly. Half of Jianing's palm was soaked with hot tears.
, he burst into tears, but his face became colder and colder.
Linghu Qilang was sobbing and shaking non-stop. Just when she was about to pick up the blue robe that was half mended, she heard loud shouts, like a tide, coming up halfway up the mountain one after another.
A group of people dressed in black robes, with shiny sword hilts hanging on their waists, rushed into the Shupu Pavilion.
Just a few "crash" sounds were heard, and a dozen unsheathed long swords were instantly in the hands of the visitor. The leader put down the hat on his cloak, revealing a scarred face: "You traitor Linghu, you still won't surrender!"
Qilang stared at the dark shadow shaking behind him and shook her head.
Seeing the resolute look on the face of the descendant of Linghu, the leader turned to look at Jianing: "Mr. Nan, there is no enmity between Xihu and Nanlin, and the two families have a fate that was forged a hundred years ago. If you
Come down the mountain immediately, our leader will spare your life."
Nan Jianing showed the same expression as Linghu Qilang and shook his head slowly.
"Really..." The sword in the visitor's hand trembled. The tip of the sword pointed at Qilang and Jianing for a while. He hesitated for a long time and then shouted: "Tell me, where did you hide "Fan Ya Ji"!"
No one paid any attention to him and shouted loudly at the top of his voice. Qilang simply lowered his head and continued to mend Jianing's green robe that still had a hole in it.
The West Lake disciples who came here saw the two of them looking so indifferent, obviously not taking everyone else seriously. They all gritted their teeth and only heard an order:
"Search!"
Then they filed into the Shupu Pavilion in Lirong Mountain, pushed down the bookshelves, and tore up the classics, but couldn't find a single trace that looked like music scores. Jianing could only be heard saying slowly and authentically:
"Senior Brother Lu Ying, long time no see."
The disciple who was the first to draw the sword just now froze. He was stunned for a long time before turning around.
"Ning originally thought that several old friends in Xihu had long since forgotten all about me, a traitor to the Nan family. Senior brother still remembers me, so Ning owes senior brother a favor."
Lu Ying took a deep breath, and the long sword in his hand was hanging on the ground. There seemed to be something he wanted to say in his eyes. His lips moved, but he couldn't say it. Finally, the West Lake disciple who was called "Senior Brother Lu Ying" by Jianing
Slowly uttered the last sentence:
"Hurry down the mountain and join Linghu... the heroine Linghu."
As if he heard something incredible, Jianing couldn't help but smile silly, raised his head, and looked at Lu Ying's stubborn throat: "Jianing has one last thing, for the sake of you and me, look at each other."
For your sake, I beg you."
Lu Ying closed her eyes and nodded.
"This Shupu Pavilion is where hundreds of generations of Linghu family's ancestors have stored classics and secrets. They cannot be passed on to anyone but outsiders. When you people from the West Lake came, the ground was in a state of disarray." Jianing paused and then said,
"Get out of here quickly, "Fan Ya Ji" is not here, Ning promises."
Hearing the words "Fan Ya Ji", Lu Ying suddenly opened her eyes.
It seems that he has just realized his responsibility as a disciple of Xihu Tianke. How could he ruin the important event of the Four Musical Instruments just because of a temporary affair? Lu Ying's face turned red when he thought that he almost let the descendants of the Linghu family go down the mountain.
It was hot for a while, my heart was pounding, and I almost committed a catastrophic disaster.
Lu Ying's glimmering eyes lingered on Jianing for the last moment, and then the reluctance in his eyes turned into a fierce light. He immediately turned around, waved his hand, and said loudly:
"Search quickly!"
"Yes!" the West Lake disciples responded in unison.
Jianing smiled bitterly and shook his head, watching the split in the robe disappear in Qilang's hands. Qilang seemed as if nothing had happened, and no one was shouting and running around in the Shupu Pavilion. He just lifted up the robe and shook it.
Shake it off and put it on Jianing again:
"I'm afraid I won't be able to finish it today."
Jianing held her hand and smiled stupidly: "What are you afraid of? When we get to the edge of the Underworld Bridge, I will hold on to you tightly and won't let go. I insist that you don't forget me even after you finish mending this robe."
Qilang smiled softly and nodded vigorously.
Just hearing the sound of "bang", a crack was torn open between the earth and the sky, and the earth shook in an instant.
A blue firework bloomed in the sky above the Shupu Pavilion, swallowing up hundreds of ancient books and ancient manuals.