Volume Three Yinjiang Chapter Fifty-seventh Hands Like Catkins
The sand silk was like a golden light dragon and snake, swimming in the air, grinning and running towards the lotus arm on which Ziqin stood. Ziqin turned around half-turn, letting the long sword turn out a faint light in his hand, and then stepped on the square stone palm to welcome the enchantment
The confused sky filled with silk mist flew forward.
The three-headed stone statues behind Ziqin let out a roar that shattered the sky.
The string sword faced the place where the golden shadow sank and jumped, constantly piercing the layers of sand and dust barriers. The light and shadow surrounded by the sand silk became more and more blurred, as if the suction force came from the center of the earth, endless and inexhaustible.
The sword energy was like a roaring goose, howling sharply, and piercing the depths of the sand silk with streaks of light and shadow.
The roar behind Ziqin was like a strong wind being stirred up by human voices, causing a faint sound of cracking in an instant. The ancient ruined temple was quiet for a moment, and only a loud "bang" was heard - stone pillars, wooden doors, incense burners, afterimages
, all scattered in all directions.
Regardless of the huge rocks or dead wood, they all turned into scattered fragments at this moment, and they were just like floating in the sand and dust.
Only the tip of the stringed sword was still pointing towards the center of the sand storm like wild geese flying in the sky. Ziqin heard that her breathing was about to be buried by the rushing sand, and the sound of her heartbeat was gradually lost in the sand and dust.
middle……
Only the rapid breathing was getting closer and closer.
Ziqin saw the calm expression on his face, like a sweet spring in the thirsty desert, still water without ripples.
This string is called "golden string". Unlike the five elements that are in conflict with each other, this golden string has the most advanced tone and the lowest tone. It is imbued with the sound of sand, which is said to have a more golden sand style. Now this old string has pierced the last thin layer of sand silk.
At the end of the scene, Ziqin Lingran's eyes were fixed on Che Xin's eyebrows, but she saw that Che Xin's kind expression had not changed at all.
With a tilt of his wrist, the long string swiped across Che Xin's side. The sharp buzz of the string sword was heard as it plunged straight into the traceless sand.
The string sword hung in the air, forcefully forcing the desert wind to change its direction. The strong wind that followed Ziqin's fingers picked up sand, wood and rocks, and with enough strength, he threw them into the vast quicksand. The string light entered
For a moment, there was a loud "clang" sound, and the yellow sand stirred up, so that even a trace of sunlight could not be seen.
That day, the wind and sand in the northern desert blocked out the sun, and tourists were shocked and unaware.
Chexin lowered his eyebrows, like a powerless old man, quietly falling into the dust behind him. Ziqin only felt that the string sword seemed to have pierced the large monk's robe, and the momentum of leaping into the desert did not stop at all. When he opened his eyes,
, even the hilt of the sword was half submerged under the quicksand.
This string is like an old wild goose with its wings folded and plummeting. I close my eyes and get lost in the vast quicksand of my hometown.
Ziqin was like a frozen stone sculpture, his upper body still maintaining the appearance of stabbing the long sword. His hands were tightly holding the hilt of the golden string sword buried in the sand. The blade was only half an inch away from Che Xin's throat. Che Xin was firmly in place.
Lao was pressed by his knees, like an old man sleeping, until blood flowed out of his ears and was stained with yellow sand.
After an unknown amount of time, Ziqin slowly raised her head and realized that she was also covered in sand and dust, like a human-shaped sand sculpture standing in the vast northern desert. She patted her clothes and stood up, seeing the hundred-foot stone statue standing firm in the quicksand without falling.
, with three heads and seven eyes, looking towards the setting sun in the sky.
A long neigh of a horse cut through the silence. Ziqin felt a burst of blood rushing into his heart. When he turned around, he saw a golden-haired horse with its body covered in blood. It jumped a few steps in front of him and poured out foam at its mouth.
Go down...
The mountain is high and the wild stream is bright, and the two and eight are lightly touching the strings. The palace and businessmen are levying feathers, all without words.
Two tung qins were placed side by side on the table. Qingqing lowered his head and smiled, stroking the strings with both hands. One qin was a little older, with mottled ink paint, and many parts of the wooden table were slightly yellow. The other one was as clean as new, with a dark color.
A silent deep purple luminous light shone through the wooden texture. Qingqing's fingertips clasped the edge of the strings, and with a slight exertion, the young new piano immediately made a "zheng" sound.
Jimo Xing was leaning against the corner of the room, sitting not far away without saying a word. His eyes seemed to have lost sight, and he just watched silently. Master Linghu and his apprentice raised their hands to play the piano, smiling at each other from time to time.
I remember when I woke up leisurely, I blurted out: "Is this Li Rong?"
The young master of the Nan family sat next to him, applying medicine to himself and saying, "This is the night screen."
After Ziqin found the traces of Qingqing and Jimo Xing on horseback, it took him no idea how long it took to bring the two people, whose lives were hanging by a thread, out of the Northern Desert. Not to mention the long distance, but Jimo Xing had been on the road several times.
When he woke up, he was too weak to speak. He just saw the man in green robes, who had a long body, skin as white as snow, and his robes were stained with dark red blood.
This must be the blood left by the men of the Northern Desert who would rather die than surrender, and Sister Keyue.
The stars don't know where the night screen is, but seeing Qing Qing practicing here day after day, he doesn't want to leave. There are many green shadows swaying here, but Jimo Xing mostly ignores them and just talks to him.
Qing Qing spoke alone.
As for how these Linghu disciples view themselves, it's all indifferent.
After withdrawing his thoughts, Xingxing looked back at the hands on the purple piano. Qingqing's ten fingers seemed a little too immature for the melody he was familiar with. The slender little finger was always raised, but the inside of the thumb pressed tightly on the strings.
, stroke hard. Sometimes the new qin and the old qin suddenly play a different sound. Qingqing quickly lowers his head, but purses his lips and smiles.
Xingxing thought of what the ancients said, with hands like catkins and a charming smile. That must be what Qingqing looks like.
It seemed that the music had reached a difficult point. Master Linghu stood up, came behind Qingqing, and cut out a few syllables with his left hand. Qingqing leaned to the right and plucked the seventh string slowly with one hand. Master and Disciple Two
They played the piano together as if there was no one around, not even noticing the yellow leaves falling above their heads.
He wanted to turn his head, but for some reason, Jimo Xing couldn't help himself from looking at Naqin a few more times. When Qingqing raised her head and looked at her master's delicate features, Xingxing beside her felt as if there was a ball of cotton in her heart.
"Let's get here first today." Ziqin lowered his head and smiled, "Your uncle will probably have to wait impatiently."
"Yes." Qingqing nodded vigorously, couldn't help but smile at the master, saluted and ran away. When Jimo Xing saw that Qingqing had finished practicing the piano today, he patted the dirt on his body and stood up. Although he was already in this beautiful scenery
Ye Ping rested for several days, watching Qingqing run, but still showed traces of her weak body.
"We have to hurry up today." Putting down the piano, Qingqing ran all the way to Xingxing and ran down the mountain with him. "We are late, and Senior Sister Qilang will be angry with us again." Jimo Xing heard this.
, curled his lips, but still couldn't help but quicken his pace.
Whether intentionally or unintentionally, Qingqing slowed down slightly, turned around and asked: "Is "Yin Fei Yin" good or not?"
"Ah?" Jimo Xing was stunned.
"I've been playing all morning today. You didn't listen to a word, did you?" Qingqing turned around, seemed to be angry, and started running away again.
"No." Jimo Xing hurriedly took a few steps to catch up, and said loudly, "I don't care about your Dongshan music."
As if sighing, Qingqing said calmly: "You and I both practice music, and there is not much difference between the fingering methods of bone flute and wooden flute... Since you come to listen to the piano every day, then learn some melodies along with it.
Master is definitely willing to teach you."
Before Qing Qing could finish speaking, Jimo Xing gave a cold "hum" and ran away for a few steps, thinking to himself: "I want to see whether Beimo's flute music is better or Dongshan's qin music."
Hearing a high-pitched horse cry in the distance, the golden horse recognized its owner from a distance, jumped a few steps, and was so anxious that it dug up the mud with its hooves. Jimo Xing finally got interested, opened his arms and ran towards his horse, carefully
I touched its sweaty neck.
The golden horse also impatiently ran up to it and sniffed its owner non-stop.
A few steps ahead was the front of the hall. Qingqing could already smell the sweet and greasy fragrance of honey coming from afar. Even the loud laughter of Qilang Qixue and the others continued to reach her ears. She felt anxious, fearing that the two of them would
I don't know how many times I was late for lunch, and I made my senior sister angry again.
Before he could urge him, Jimo Xing suddenly untied the reins and climbed onto his horse without saying a word.
The golden horse became happy and tapped its hooves, raising a cloud of flying dust. Qingqing almost jumped into the air and hurriedly whispered:
"Good star, come down quickly!"
Jimo Xing had a rare opportunity to ride a horse, so he was having fun for a while. No matter how much Qing Qing tried to persuade him, he couldn't listen to a word. Suddenly he took the golden horse and galloped far away in the direction of Qing Qing. He ran close to Qing Qing and suddenly reached out.
He stretched out half of his body and stretched out his hand:
"Good Qing Qing, come up quickly!"
Hearing his shouting, Qingqing was so frightened that she hurriedly turned around and looked in front of the hall. Fortunately, the senior sisters seemed to be still immersed in the excitement and were not aware of the neighing of the horses here. She lowered her head to think for a moment, and then saw the golden horse approaching.
The moment he stood in front of him, he quickly stretched out his hand and grasped Jimo Xing's slender fingers.
The palms of her hands were slightly sweaty, and Qingqing felt her body lighten up, and she turned over onto the horse's back.
The golden horse suddenly lifted up its front hooves, neighed, and galloped along the path. Qingqing felt that the shadows of the trees in the forest were mottled, and dots of light flashed through his eyes.
For a moment, the mountain scenery flew by. The two of them rode horses deep into the dense forest, and the surrounding scenery was no longer recognized. The golden horse ran to higher ground step by step. Qingqing's long hair spread out at some point, and the black hair blew to the back of her head.
, constantly brushing against Jimo Xing’s cheek.
Xingxing raised the corner of his mouth, and for some reason, he suddenly pulled the reins and stopped the horse.
When a horse is galloping, it is taboo to stop suddenly. Qing Qing was not prepared and the golden horse almost staggered. He dodged and fell from the horse into the air. Jimo Xing turned over and jumped up, tiptoeing lightly.
Lift, stand upright on the horse's back.
One hand still firmly grasped Qingqing's palm, and the other hand released the reins, letting him fly into the air together.
With a "bang", the two of them fell heavily onto the yellow withered grass in autumn. Qingqing firmly grasped the soft mud with both hands and stopped her body halfway. Xingxing let herself roll several times and was covered in dirt.
The dust just stopped.
Jimo Xing stood up, drew out the short sword from his waist, and walked towards Qing Qing step by step.
Qingqing raised his upper body, tilted his head on one knee, blinked and stared at Jimo Xing's figure walking towards him with a knife. He was still a few steps away from Qingqing, when Xingxing suddenly leaned down and hugged Qingqing from behind.
neck, and put the short knife against her temple:
"How many people have the Linghu sect, including Yi Yamo, killed so far?"