Volume Three Yinjiang Chapter Fifty-six Who Is Good and Who Is Evil
Ziqin concentrated on her ears, and even her own ordinary heartbeat seemed earth-shattering. Unfortunately, within a hundred miles, except for herself, there was only the calm breathing of Master Bei Mo Chexin.
It was too far, and the quicksand in the Northern Desert could change clouds and shadows in an instant, leaving traces of Qing Qing's visit everywhere along the way.
Raising his head and staring at Che's calm and still-lowering eyes, Ziqin gently tapped the pointed finger of the teacup and frowned. How easy is it to find someone in such a wilderness? And to hide someone in the wild desert, it's even more difficult.
How easy is it?
"Master Linghu has come a long way to work hard." Che Xin showed a look of charity that only a monk can have. "The wind is cold in the desert and the tea is cold. Master, please don't take offense."
Ziqin said calmly: "There are hundreds of miles of wilderness with no trace of people, so naturally a cup of tea will be difficult to warm."
“A place where a cup of tea is difficult to warm, with withered grass and a dark wind like a curtain, how can it be said to be deserted?”
"Even though foreigners are bustling, and swords and swords meet on the yellow sand, Qin comes here just to find one person." Holding the tea cup tightly with five fingers, Ziqin lowered his head lightly, "What kind of magic the master practices is not from outside the Northern Desert.
This is something that young fools should be concerned about. It’s just that Linghu’s disciple is young and has low skills, so he still cannot get into the eyes of the master.”
Che Xin leaned over and picked up the tea cup, and smiled: "At such a young age, I have suffered such profound poisoning. Even though the poor monk has seen through the illusion of life and death, he can't bear it, leaving young hero Linghu in deep pain.
Torture?" Before Ziqin could answer, he suddenly thought of something, and then asked: "The poor monk remembers that the master was poisoned by biting poison, and he was about the same age as the young hero, right?"
Ziqin smiled bitterly: "This junior was not that old at that time."
"This is the reason why the poor monk brought Young Hero Linghu to the Northern Desert." Chexin stared at Ziqin's jade-like eyes calmly, "Since Tianke's sword was struck at that time, the master was able to sustain it for decades.
Why should Master Linghu watch his disciple suffer the same crime again? Besides, looking at the world today, how many people with profound skills like the Master can withstand the erosion of poison?"
There was a crisp "ding" sound, and Ziqin's untouched teacup was knocked on the table: "I am confused, please give me some advice."
Seeing that Ziqin was already on the verge of anger, Che Xin was not angry at all. He just lowered his head and continued to speak calmly: "Monks are used to the quarrels and fights for fame and fortune... Now I only ask for compassion and love.
Huai, use my Northern Desert Healing Song to slowly treat all kinds of poisonous injuries of Young Master Linghu."
Zi Qin looked coldly at Che Xin's tolerant and kind eyes.
"It's just that a poor monk comes from a sect in the Northern Desert, so he never dares to tamper with the old rules of the sect - Yi Ya Healing Song, which can only be used by Jimo sect disciples."
"Sure enough." He couldn't help but clenched his teeth secretly, and the tea cup in Ziqin's hand was on the verge of breaking. "Master has such a compassionate and loving mind. No wonder the four instruments and eight tones, from all sects, all expressed respect!
"
Che Xin also slammed the plain cup in his hand on the table, and saw that the small, moon-white shallow cup was suddenly covered with cracks. However, it still stood in Che Xin's hand unchanged, as if it was intact and not damaged at all.
Chexin frowned lightly:
"Does the master want to watch his apprentice die day by day due to poisonous torture?"
Ziqin shook his head quietly and said softly: "As long as I, Master Linghu, am alive in this world, I will protect my disciples. As for the master's technique of 'flowing the sand river', everyone in the world knows it, so why should the master do it?"
Hiding it from this junior?" After saying this, he stood up suddenly, the hilt of his string sword spilled out of his sleeve:
"Where is Qing Qing?"
Sitting still in his original position, Che Xin also smiled bitterly and shook his head: "The master is determined to disregard the lives of his disciples, so he cannot allow the poor monk to stand by and watch!" There was a flash of light and shadow, and a few feet of sand silk rolled up the temple in an instant.
Outside there is wild sand, and the small ruined temple is shaken by the mountains.
The stringed sword fell into the almost transparent fingers of Ziqin. The tip of the sword was handed over and rushed into the golden light of sand silk.
The two men faced each other, and the fierce wind raised by the string sword and the gentle wind raised by the long silk howled at each other. The crumbling ruined temple groaned loudly, as if it was about to fall apart at any moment. Only the faint clanking and buzzing sound was heard.
There was thunder on the ground, and there was a loud sound among the intersection of silk swords.
The heart-warming silk was attracted by the wind like quicksand, and in a blink of an eye, half of Ziqin's body was wrapped in golden light. Ziqin's string sword stabbed left and right, but struck the soft silk sand with one move.
The sand silk is like a big hand in the center of the earth, strong and harmless.
This is the Lishu technique of Yi Ya Mo - "Liu Yin Sha Jiang". The long silk sleeves are like the quicksand that eats people in the wilderness, pulling them bit by bit in the entanglement, sucking up the opponent's skills.
The most terrifying thing about this move is its method of killing people - no injury.
It is the same as the quicksand that will never recover if you step on it. It is wrapped in sand and silk. The stronger the struggle, the faster the fall and the tighter the entanglement. In the end, there is no strength left and they take their own lives. Those who fell down
The corpses under the long silk sleeves of the Northern Desert masters often have a peaceful expression and their whole body is intact. It is impossible to tell that they have suffered any pain when they were in danger.
Even at this moment, the leader of Linghu, who was standing in front of Che Xin, was a few years younger, and he was afraid that he could not help but fall into the clues.
The sand silk seemed to be lingering with the shadow of dust in the sky. When Ziqin looked up, only the last corner of the tall stone statue with a weird figure was left, and he could barely see it. After giving way, Ziqin let the string sword rush towards him.
Stepping forward, the two weapons exploded with a thunderous sound.
boom!
The long-lasting muffled thunder that filled his ears was like the wail of mountains shaken by wind and rain. Looking towards the hidden place of the thunder, Ziqin realized that the source of the thunder was actually the three heads and seven eyes surrounding the ruined temple.
The enshrined stone statue with nine arms and body!
At this time, I saw that the sand silk was getting tighter and tighter, Ziqin was stepping on the plum blossom formation at his feet, and the string sword did not fall down, slowly pointing out every notation of "Pingsha Luoyan". At the moment of life and death, he must have stabilized his breath.
, only then can there be a slight possibility of escape.
On the other hand, Che Xin saw that the leader of Linghu was still young but maintained a steady stance for a long time, and he couldn't help but panic secretly.
Ziqin held the string sword upright in front of her, letting the sand build up like a high wall, rolling around her side and swallowing up the sand dunes further away. As the force of the two weapons fighting gradually weakened, the thunder could not help but dim.
Ziqin looked sideways at the stone statue: the stone statue has three heads and four arms, which means that the strings and sounds are in harmony; it has seven eyes and nine bodies, which means that the sound is continuous.
The north wind blows over the grave, and the geese pass by without leaving a trace.
The "Goose Falling on the Flat Sand" sword move was used, and the string light reflected the flying sand and rocks, and the running body was swept up in the sand and silk rolls. I often heard "the wild goose passing without leaving a trace", even if Leng Yan suddenly encountered the sand on his way south.
The dust lingered, but it never folded its wings and fell to the ground, halting its long journey.
And how can the yellow sand sweep away the traces of autumn geese?
Ziqin secretly said in his heart: "Broken!" He saw the hilt of the string sword hooked a corner of the sand silk, and then he pulled up the hundred-foot sand wall with the force of jumping through water and sea. The sword light turned, and the sword blade on the other side was about to break.
Stab Che Xin on the shoulder.
Che Xin raised his eyebrows and took a step back. He heard a "hissing" sound and quicksand fell to the ground.
The sand silk between Master Chexin's hands was already half torn.
The tip of Ziqin's xian sword tapped the ground: "Where is Qing Qing?"
Shaking his head, Che Xin said softly and sadly: "I, a poor monk, cannot just watch. Linghu's disciple is on the verge of life and death without knowing it."
"Life or death?" Ziqin's fingertips trembled, and with sufficient internal strength, he said in a loud voice, "Master is determined to practice the skill of 'flowing the sand river', and the descendants of Dongshan have never asked a question. Now the old master insists on bringing Linghu to the river."
Disciples come in, but you still have the nerve to talk about life and death?"
After saying this, the long string of Linghuziqin trembled, and he saw the heart-wrenching piece of silk passing before his eyes.
Qingqing doesn't know, Xingxing doesn't know the secrets that have been passed down in Yi Ya Mo for thousands of years and are hidden in "Shajiang Yin". Maybe Jimo Yao, the current leader of the North Desert, knows something about it. But among the several leaders who are still alive,
Only Linghu Ziqin knew it clearly.
The sandy river is long, and the sand is used as a guide. If the sand and soil fail, birds and beasts are used as a guide. Birds and beasts are fruitless, so human lives are used as a guide...
What's more, Qingqing was poisoned and was still alive, but at the eight music gathering where all the Jianghu sects gathered together, he used Linghu Zishu's life-threatening move "Three Points into the Wood"!
Ziqin frantically stabbed Shasu left and right in front of him, as if trying to find his disciple in the vast desert.
After waiting for a long time, Che Xin finally saw that the young leader Linghu was beginning to lose his composure, so even though he folded a long piece of silk, he still calmly gathered the sand to attack. I saw that the soft silk surface went straight towards the body.
Qin's forehead flew horizontally, Ziqin dodged sideways, and the soft sand silk hit the stone pillar of the main hall - with a "boom", the stone pillar was punched with a big hole.
The rubble from the tiled roof of the ruined temple splashed down, but in the blink of an eye, Ziqin hurriedly stood up and found that the ground under his feet was already tilted. If he were to attack like this, he was afraid that the entire ruined temple would be swallowed up by the surrounding quicksand!
The force of the sand silk showed no sign of stopping. Seeing that it was difficult to attack from the front, Ziqin jumped back and held the string sword behind him. There was only a loud "buzz" sound, and the already unstable temple pillars became even more so.
The fallen leaves were swaying left and right in the autumn wind.
Ziqin closed her eyes, listened to the sound and recognized the coming force of the sand silk. She jumped up suddenly and dropped the tip of the sword from an angle into the heart of the silk silk.
The wild geese are falling on the flat sand, and the sky is flying! As soon as the elegant tune plays, Ziqin lets go of his hand at this moment, wanting the song of establishing the gates of Dongshan and Beimo to be divided into high and low in the yellow sand. He is calm and calm in his hands.
, letting the silk wind pass the sword light sideways, and hit it directly in the eyes of the stone statue behind Ziqin.
The stone statue roared loudly and seemed to wake up.
"The Lord Buddha is here, Li Rongshan disciple Linghu Ziqin would like to pay my respects." Although Ziqin did not believe in Buddhism in his life, at this time, like a grain of dust falling in front of the hundred-foot stone statue, he could not help but feel awe in his heart, so he said word by word in his heart,
"If the disciple's guess is true and Qingqing's life is in danger, please ask the Buddha to point out the way for the disciple..."
"If the healing process in the Northern Desert really helps Qingqing get rid of the poison, my disciple will die in the Northern Desert with no regrets..." The stringed sword clattered to the ground. Ziqin raised his head and stared at the strange stone statue.
The gray eye that was just hit by Sha Silk.
Who is good and who is evil? You might as well let your disciples understand clearly!
Linghu Ziqin pointed her toes, stepped on the long silk in mid-air, and fluttered, turning over and landing on the lotus palm in the arm of the stone statue.