Volume Three Yin Jiang Chapter 112 The Blossom of Tangdi
To find the direction of the master, hurry up and catch up! This is the first thing Qingqing realized in his mind when he woke up from the poisonous coma.
So he followed Ziqin's example and put the two light stringed swords into his left and right cuffs respectively, hung the white jade flute firmly on his waist, picked up the small green medicine bottle next to him and took a look -
There were dots of stars on it, and there were dried and cracked blood stains on the table and floor.
Qingqing grabbed the medicine bottle in his hand and ran out the door. He saw a fierce fire on the mountainside, and the sound of cracking rocks could be heard from time to time. The fire seemed to be about to spread to the top of the mountain.
Ziqin's steps were very light, leaving no trace behind.
Spreading his hands, the medicine bottle lay quietly in the palm of his hand, exuding the same color as the robe he was wearing. The temperature left by the master's transparent fingertips still faintly penetrated the blood-stained bottle, and was continuously transmitted to Qingqing's palm.
The moment the tears were about to well up in her eyes, Qingqing quickly clenched her fists, letting the tears drip onto her scarred knuckles.
I was just about the age of haircuts, but I had already shed enough tears that my hazy tearful eyes seemed unable to distinguish the shape of heaven and earth at this moment.
For some reason, Qingqing's mind suddenly flashed back to the words spoken by the fortune teller at the West Lake Pier. Qingqing's lips trembled, and her heart tightened: "As long as you two always rely on each other, there will be no trouble."
It's good to be separated." But look at the narrow mountain top and the dense banyan forest, where is the shadow of Master?
Qingqing didn't have time to hesitate, he raised his legs and was about to run down the mountain. However, as soon as his body soared into the air, he didn't know whether it was an illusion or something, but he seemed to hear the "zheng" of the sword in his sleeve.
Not caring about anything else for the moment, Qing Qing still walked along the path as if flying, letting the shadows of the woods shuttle behind her, and ran down the mountain step by step without looking back. But the left and right swords seemed to be alive, "clanging"
The ground screamed with all its strength, and finally Qingqing felt a cold pain in her arm, and had to stop.
The two long strings were quiet, shining slightly through the green sleeves.
The pain in her cold arms and palms that seemed to be poisonous was even more unbearable. Qingqing felt that her whole body was falling into the endless ice cellar. Then she raised her eyes and stared blankly at the firelight halfway up the mountain, gritting her teeth.
road:
"Could it be that God doesn't allow me, Linghu, to even search for my master?"
Thinking of this, Qingqing put his hand on his pulse, followed what Qichuan taught him, and listened attentively. However, he felt that his pulse was weak, and it seemed that the beating sound of the heart was getting weaker and weaker every time.
Weakened. Qingqing smiled bitterly, looked at the sky, and shook his head.
If the head of Mo Chen thought that if he let the sky end his life as soon as possible, he would be able to save the Linghu family from catastrophe, it would be too simplistic. From what he saw with his own eyes, Master Zishu was covered in blood, leaving the "three points into the wood" on Nanxiao.
In the palm meridian, he realized——
The descendants of Linghu do not obey the destiny and obey the will of heaven.
Normally I wouldn't say I like this rough wooden flute that glows with purple light. I even feel a little disgusted with it. This is because I am used to seeing too many desperate fights in the world caused by the flute, so I wish I could tie it to a stone earlier.
Throw it into the sea so that no one in the world can find it, and it will be left clean.
It's just that Master and Uncle are used to giving instructions, saying that this is a relic left by Zi Shu and cannot be discarded under any circumstances.
In addition, this wooden flute seemed to be possessed by him. No matter how he discarded it, he could find it and never leave it, which made Qing Qing feel that he had known her for a long time and was reluctant to part with it.
But today, the people from the West Lake Wen family came back and wanted to take away the white jade flute, but they couldn't!
Qingqing smiled coldly, as if directed at the sky, as if directed at the generations of ancestors of the Linghu family, as if a naughty child thought of a prank and couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth at the adults. Then the coldness in his palms hit him,
Qingqing turned around, took his last breath, and ran towards Lingdeng Cliff.
The string sword in his sleeve vibrated violently, and the violent reverberation echoed through the top of Lirong Mountain.
Qingqing felt hot tears falling on her face, which was losing color. She couldn't help but hold the tip of the string sword with her hand, and thought to herself: "Master... the disciple and the master have defied fate after all, and will never meet again in this life."
, and they will live together for the rest of their lives, and together they will break the oath left by Linghu’s ancestors to the world... Master and Qingqing are two wings in the sky, and a couple on the earth. Under the underworld, no one can separate them.
…”
Speaking of this, Qingqing thought of that snowy night when she threw herself wholeheartedly into Master's arms for the first time.
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Greedily feeling the warm breath under the faint sound of the piano. Under the master's fair neck, one can vaguely see the veins of life beating non-stop.
A smile bloomed on the master's jade-like face, and Qingqing's figure was all in his familiar eyes.
The salty smell of the waves hit her nostrils. As Qingqing ran, she could already hear the sound of the waves rising and falling. The sound of the waves was so beautiful...it was left behind by countless heroic spirits and dead souls swallowed under the water.
A final song to life.
Master, after the disciple kills the descendants of Xihu, he will take the first step and go to the underworld to reunite with his brothers and sisters...
Just when Qingqing's feet were about to step onto the cliff, he suddenly heard a hesitant shout from behind him:
"Sister Lin!"
Qingqing wanted to turn back, but when he turned around, his whole body froze. No matter how capable the disciples of the generals in West Lake were, there was no way they could attack the top of Lirong Mountain so quickly. In his mind, Qingqing felt a flash of light and flint.
Just remembered——
The last time Xihu Nanlin attacked Lirong Mountain, there was only one person holding a map from the top to the bottom of the mountain. And that map was thrown into his hand by himself.
But at this time, An Yu's steps behind him had lost the immature air of the Eight Music Meeting. He was steady and steady step by step, with the fearless spirit that a general should have, and kept approaching Qingqing. Qingqing stood stiffly where he was.
The ground is clenched tightly and refuses to turn around.
"Sister." An Yu stopped and the sound coming from his throat seemed to show the general's extraordinary internal strength, "I came to Xihu today not to seize the flute, but to burn Lirong Mountain to the ground...
Sister Lin, let Yu take you away."
Qingqing was startled and shook his head: "I'm not going anywhere. If Master Wen wants to burn the mountain, why should I leave Li Rong and live in an ignoble way?" Upon hearing this, Qingqing clearly heard the sound of an arrow being fired.
The sound of bowing was followed by An Yu's unquestionable tone:
"Even if my sister refuses to follow Yu, she can't take another step forward."
Hearing this sentence, he was completely like a young general from West Lake, giving orders to the traitor demon in Dongshan. Qingqing couldn't bear it anymore, and finally turned around in an instant, and met General An's firm eyes:
"Lirong Mountain is the place where Linghu's descendants belong!"
"Not anymore."
A rare sneer appeared on Qingqing's lips: "A general who hasn't grown up in Xihu can't stop me."
Taking a deep breath, General An still drew the bow to full capacity, without any trembling on his fingertips: "Sister, this fire is burning the mountain, and it will be too late if we don't leave." At this point, a flash of youth seemed to flash in his eyes.
Guang Guang: "If my sister is willing to go with Yu, Yu will fight to the death. Even if she bears the infamy of Xihu I, she will still be sent down the mountain."
"What if I don't leave?"
"Then this silver bow is ruthless and will never let my sister take another step forward."
Unwilling to answer, Qingqing turned around and walked straight towards Lingdeng Cliff step by step.
When the bowstring sounded behind him, Qingqing did not look back or dodge, but let a silver-feathered arrow fly past her left shoulder. The moment the bowstring sounded, Qingqing could already hear the direction of the silver arrow, so she took one step at a time.
non-stop.
There was a "squeak" sound behind him, the silver bow was loaded with arrows, and a silver-feathered arrow was once again ready to be fired.
The moment when the sound of the silver arrow came to mind again, Qingqing kept walking and took a step forward. However, when the tip of the arrow was only the last inch away from his heart, he suddenly turned around, raised his right sleeve, and let the sleeve be mid-string.
The sword knocked the silver arrow rushing towards him to the ground with a clang.
Immediately, the light and shadow of the harp sword in his right hand came out of his sleeve, and then the silver arrow dispersed into the air, drew a cold arc, and flew towards General An opposite like lightning. Unexpectedly, An Yu did not avoid it at all, and saw the harp sword.
The rays of light fascinated his eyes, and he squinted his eyes. Almost at the same moment, the silver-feathered swords and arrows roared in the air.
The slender string broke through General An's heart and flew out backwards, leaving a bloody hole the size of a thumb on An Yu's body. Then there was only a "clang" sound, and the string sword penetrated half of An Yu's body.
Among the trunks of the old banyan tree, the body trembled and never moved again.
Qing Qing turned sideways and let the Silver Feather Arrow dodge past him. It seemed like he was stunned for a moment before An Yu realized what had happened. He used his fingers to explore the wound on his chest, but the entire palm of his hand was stained bright red.
Sure enough, he couldn't restrain his softness when he drew the sword. Qingqing sighed secretly in his heart, and he couldn't tell whether he was blaming her or feeling lucky - the sword did not come out straight through An Yu's heart, but was only deflected by a few inches.
A few fingers apart, several ribs were broken.
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already.
Finally unable to restrain himself, General An vomited out a mouthful of blood and fell to his knees with a plop. The silvery bow and arrow fell helplessly to the ground.
Only then did Qing Qing recover from the danger of the arrow. A little sweat began to appear on his forehead. Then he looked at the man lying on the ground in front of him, vomiting blood, and the armor on his body seemed a little stiff.
The general seemed to have returned to the younger brother who had always been by his elder brother's side in his memory.
An Yu's every move was very much like Kong Yuechuan's. Even when he picked up a bow and arrow at his sister, the unwavering concentration in his hands was exactly the same as the eldest brother's determined look. Qingqing thought of the last night when his eldest brother was dying.
, the sudden stinging pain on his shoulder.
Qingqing never told anyone about this secret. Even his master did not know who had given him the same poisonous "Artemisia on the Snow".
At this moment, Qingqing couldn't shed a single tear, but felt a little pity - it's a pity that the "loyalty to Jinlan" left by the ancients, placed in today's world, is just a joke that can be solved by a life-or-death separation.
Perhaps it's because Yue Chuan, Ling Feng, Qing Qing and Yu'er have never forgotten who they are.
Thinking of this, Qingqing finally looked at An Yu's dark face. General Hei's eyebrows were stained with blood. He knew without asking that this was the blood that his brothers and sisters had shed to Xihu before he and his master went up the mountain. Thinking of it
Here, Qingqing turned around and looked at the Lingdeng Cliff with the sparkling waves not far away, but did not see An Yu struggling with her last strength, lying down on the ground, and holding the bowstring in her hand again.
Hearing a sharp roar from the silver bow, splitting the fiery wind of Lirong Mountain, Qingqing fell to the ground.
When she heard the sound of the silver-feathered arrow, Qingqing wanted to turn aside and hide, but her whole body seemed to have been drained of strength. She was so limp that she couldn't dodge. The last arrow that An Yu tried his best to hit was in the air.
A sudden stinging pain left his shoulder. But the pain was fleeting. Qingqing still insisted on walking towards Lingdeng Cliff, despite the silver arrow piercing his shoulder, leaving him numb.
As expected, he is exactly the same as General Kong.
Qingqing frowned, clenched the silver arrow with his five fingers, and pulled it out from the wound. Before the blood started to flow, he pulled off the hem of his clothes and bandaged it around his shoulders.
Seeing the dark red blood still seeping out of her shoulders, staining her green clothes with no color, Qingqing let go of her hand and thought lightly:
"It's not like these last few drops of blood are missing."
It was getting late, and there was a hint of coolness in the sea breeze. Wen Li breathed on his cold fingers, couldn't help but tighten his robe, and said to Yu, "Let's go back."
Li Zhiyu nodded and sighed. It was just before dark last time that he saw with his own eyes the gurgling sounds of Lirong Mountain and the beautiful wind and sunshine. There was a hint of early spring in the long historical atmosphere. But in the blink of an eye,
In the meantime, all the palaces and huts made of bamboo and wood collapsed, countless precious classics were buried in the sea of fire, and the blood of the West Lake and Dongshan disciples flowed together and could not be separated.
I heard reports from disciples that there were only eight people in Lirong Mountain, but they fought from dawn to dusk, killing the generals of Xihu and more than a hundred disciples of Tianke. The rare treasures of Shupu Pavilion, Yaozhi Hall, and Zhijin Hall
The books, along with the descendants of Li Rong and Mi Yu, were reduced to ashes.
Zhiyu always remembers that when he rescued a life from the Northern Desert, someone told him that this life was saved by Master Linghu breaking into the sand prison for the second time and risking the quicksand collapsing at any time. It's a pity that this has to wait.
All day and night, Master Linghu was not seen.
Perhaps, we need to wait until tonight when the corpses are counted to find out that the leader of Linghu and the last champion of the Eight Music Contest are lying together hand in hand.
Thinking of this, Miss Li sighed softly. Wen Li turned around: "Are you soft-hearted?"
"No." Zhiyu shook his head, "I just didn't expect that the Eight-tone Four Instruments would end up like this."
"Hmph." Head Wen sneered, "If Li hadn't been so compassionate before, he wouldn't have caused the Seven Star Palace to be burned down, and his father... that's all. Once today is over, everything will be over." After that,
Turn around and walk towards the top of the mountain.
Zhiyu followed Wen Li, carefully blocking the wind with his broad body. When he turned around, he vaguely saw a cyan figure on the top of the cliff opposite. Of course Li Zhiyu didn't know that the person in the Shupu Pavilion was
The two people, whose flesh and blood were flying everywhere, were also standing here when they saw Ziqin and Qingqing fall into the sea.
But now, a row of black-robed disciples cut across the cliff, their swords unsheathed, leaving Qingqing alone to face the biting sea breeze.