Jimo Xing tightened his grip on the knife in his hand and ran for a few steps. The tip of the knife pointed directly at the center of Master Hu's eyebrows. Ziqin looked up for a moment, just as the sun shone on the blade of the knife, and a few strands of hair scattered in the crown brushed the light and shadow.
When their eyes met, Jimo Xing's heart suddenly trembled. The depth and gentleness in his eyes was something he had never expected.
He heard a piano sound playing in his ears, and Jimo Xing's wrist suddenly became numb as if it had been bitten by something sharp. For a moment, half of his arm could not move. The scimitar could not be controlled, and it slipped.
He took out his fingertips and fell to the ground with a clang.
Linghu Ziqin's hand that played the overtones stayed in mid-air for a moment, and the aftertaste lingered. Then he flicked it hard, and a string of long tones rolled down. Looking up again, Ziqin opened his palm and slammed it on the strings. The sound that echoed the plum forest
The echoes suddenly stopped.
The disciples stood stunned in the snow, unable to move.
It wasn't until Jimo Xing's scimitar was released that they reacted one after another, picked up various magical tools and stepped forward. They saw the young man surrounded in the center of the crowd, and the right arm holding the sword was numb and hanging in the air. The muscles on the face of the Jimo young man
He twisted in pain, and used his left hand to grasp the acupuncture point on his right arm that was sealed by the sound of the piano, but pain shot through his body, and then his limbs shook violently.
Jimo Xing lowered his head and bit his lips to prevent himself from screaming.
Ziqin seemed like a jade-faced immortal who was sleeping in the sound of the piano. He was awakened by the sudden attack of the scimitar just now. At this moment, he lowered his head and strummed the strings again, paying no attention to the changes in front of him. The song just now was not finished, and there were still a few faint tail notes.
.
Everyone saw Ziqin raise her hand, let out a slow sigh of relief, and played the final note of the song without any rush.
Xingxing choked her chin, as if she was chewing all her teeth into pieces, and spat out a sentence:
"My sister Ke Yue, and my father, were all caused by you, right?"
Ziqin raised his eyes coldly: "Qin was in the North Desert and has never seen Princess Jimo. It's just Master Chexin. I'm afraid I can't hear what the prince said." When Jimo Xing heard this, he finally couldn't help but yelled, and he didn't know where he was coming from.
With all his strength, he had to rush towards Ziqin again.
Xingxing was just a young boy who had not yet received his crowning ceremony. He suddenly stabbed the head of the Lirong clan in Dongshan with his bare hands. How could it be that he was just like a moth flying into a flame and an egg striking a stone? Even though Jimo Xing knew it in his heart at this moment, he was afraid that he couldn't care so much. He just thought of it.
The sister looked like she was dying miserably in horror, so she tried her best regardless of everything, wishing to tear this unrivaled master of martial arts into pieces.
Before he had taken two steps, his right foot suddenly slipped and he fell down on the snow. The cold snow oozed on the tip of his tongue. Jimo Xing suddenly remembered the Bei Desert dagger he had dropped. He stretched out his hand to explore and found the dagger.
But there was no trace of it.
An unusual chill spread from the back of my neck to my whole body, and I heard that familiar voice calling:
"Xingxing, you promised me to trust you."
"Believe me?" Suddenly a burst of laughter came from under the tip of the knife. Jimo Xing ignored the cold snow in his mouth and poured it into his throat. He lay on the ground and propped himself up, laughing more and more crazily, "If you want you to believe me, I will do it again."
How can I trust you! Today, three masters of the Four Music Instruments died at the hands of you Dongshan, how can I trust you? At the beginning of winter in the first year of Huachu, the Linghu clan dominated the music book and seized the flute, and even destroyed it in public at the Eight Music Festival.
How can I believe you when it comes to your marriage contract? Li Rongshan has done all the evil things and done all the bad things. How can I believe what the demon said!"
Qingqing listened to him laughing up to the sky, and his laughter became more and more heartbreaking, almost going crazy. Before he could finish his words, the hand holding the scimitar was raised high and he threw it hard——
I saw the short knife slipping out of my hand and falling straight towards Jimo Xing's neck like the wind.
I don't know who took a breath, and saw the blade brushing against the young man's shoulder and clothes, and inserting more than a few inches into the snow. Even the handle of the knife was not in the snow. Ziqin sat quietly not far away and watched, his mind wandering like yellow sand.
In the white snow, the figure of the young man and Master Chexin overlapped for a moment.
Several disciples stood aside, not saying anything when they saw their master and uncle. They didn't know what to do for a moment. Qichuan was the longest among them all, so he thought that stabbing in front of everyone would be a dead end. So he turned his head and rushed towards Qixue.
A look.
Qixue understood, and in an instant the long whip spread out from her waist, and the head of the whip was like a long snake, rushing toward Jimo Star like lightning.
The moment the whip was taken, Qixue suddenly realized that the head of the whip was struggling, and was entangled with something unknown, making it unable to move. After a closer look, she almost screamed, but had no time to stop, so she had to try her best to hold the whip.
Turbulent castration——
Qingqing stretched out his hand and grabbed the head of the soft whip.
Qixue was shocked, but she didn't know that Qingqing touched the white jade flute in panic, but she was afraid that the wooden flute was a strong object, so she used her strength to pass it back along the long whip. Instead, Qixue Yili, the injured person, didn't have time to think, and directly stretched out her hand.
Hold the soft whip in your hand.
This was originally a fatal blow in Qixue's heart. How could she leave any room for it?
Qingqing couldn't hold his hand against the long whip and was violently pulled in front of the young man. Seeing that he still couldn't stop the force of the whip, Qingqing folded his wrist, only to hear a slight "click" sound, and his wrist bones and arms twisted into each other.
A strange angle. Looking closely, it turned out that the wrist was broken and dislocated.
At the same time, Linghu Ziqi was deep in thought when he suddenly saw a flash of white light in front of his eyes. Unexpectedly, it was his disciple who took action rashly. Just when the soft whip with barbs was about to touch Jimo Star, Ziqi hurriedly took action.
Lift, pick up this Northern Desert boy by his collar and lift him up in the air:
"Go down the mountain and don't let anyone named Linghu see you again."
After saying that, he waved his hand and threw Jimo Xing heavily to the ground. He rolled a few times before barely stopping.
Xu Shi was just vulnerable to the heavy blow when his teeth bit his tongue. As soon as Jimo Xing opened his mouth, a mouthful of light red blood foam gushed out. His hands and feet seemed to have lost consciousness a long time ago. He tried to get up and tried a few times.
He refused to obey orders every time. He exerted all his strength, Xingxing roared and raised his head, and saw Qingqing pulling out his scimitar from the snow.
Xingxing frowned and stared at Qingqing's every move.
The knife was inserted several inches into the ground. Qingqing exerted force several times, closed his eyes, and shouted "ha" deep in his throat. He saw Bei Mo's short scimitar leaping up from the snow, and the sharp blade finally
See the sun again.
The girl's steps were very light, stepping on the snow "crunching".
Qingqing stopped in front of Xingxing, held the handle of the knife, and pressed the scimitar to the center of Jimo Xing's forehead. Xingxing used all his strength, and finally raised an arm, and his five fingers suddenly hung on the tip of the knife. He just listened.
The young man roared angrily, held the knife in his palm, stood up and half-knelt in the snow.
He opened his eyes and met the girl's clear eyes. Jimo Xing was still staring at Qingqing's face, as if he wanted to wait for his blood to dry up and not move away for a moment. Qingqing lowered his eyes and let go suddenly.
, the scimitar couldn't bear the weight and fell again at the feet of the star.
Jimo Xing could only hear Qingqing saying slowly: "Give back your knife." After saying that, he turned around and didn't want to look at him again.
But as soon as Qingqing turned around, she heard a "boom" behind her, and the world suddenly fell into silence. With her back to the boy, Qingqing stopped, but she felt a big hand holding her throat tightly,
Blood surged all over his body, but he couldn't breathe at all.
Qingqing heard the sound before Xingxing fell to the ground - it was the sound of a sharp knife piercing his heart.
The first one to react was Linghu Ziqi. As soon as he took a step forward, his green robe was wetted by a large amount of blood. Several other disciples stepped forward one after another, but were stopped by the large stained white snow.
.It seemed that everyone was bustling, but Qingqing had his back turned to the young man from Beimo, unwilling to look back.
On that side, the strings of the Ziqin were silent. Seeing Qingqing's torn clothes floating in the wind, he put down his Qin and stood up.
As if being summoned by something, Qingqing turned around and looked at the master standing not far away, Yuli Baixue, with the previous gentle look in her eyes long gone. The two looked at each other for a long time, Ziqin closed her eyes and shook her head slowly.
Shake his head.
The master closed his eyes for a moment, and Qingqing suddenly felt a surge of sweet blood in his throat. He Kong Kong opened his mouth, but almost shed a string of tears.
Turning around, Qingqing pushed away Senior Sister Qixue or Qilang, who was not known, and rushed into the crowd, stepping on the bright red snow, and ran to the young man's side. The young man's protruding eyeballs pointed straight to the sky, blood vessels bulged, and a scimitar was stuck in his chest.
Qingqing stretched out her hand and grasped the fingertips of Xingxing. Unexpectedly, the young man's fingers loosened and fell into Qingqing's arms.
Qingqing lowered his head, as if a power of ice and fire was about to burst out from deep in his chest.
"Neigh -" Hearing a horse's cry, the golden horse was tied not far away. Sensing that something was wrong with its owner, he dug his hooves into the ground and hit the reins. Qingqing picked up the young man's blood-soaked body and looked back -
The master looked at him with eyes that were half bitter and half cold.
Ten years in Lirong Mountain have passed by in a flash, and Qingqing has never shown any signs of conflict with his master. At this moment, he gritted his teeth, cast aside a look of sadness and anger, and turned his head desperately before tears rolled down his face.
Run to the golden horse, untie the reins, and run wildly in the snow holding the stars.
I don't know if it was his uncle or his sister who called his name from behind, but Qingqing could no longer hear him.
The horse was very understanding of human nature, and felt the uncondensed blood of its master flowing continuously onto its back, so it galloped all the way, refusing to stop until it was foaming at the mouth. It did not stop until it carried the two of them to the middle of an empty plum forest.
He seemed unwilling to go any further.
The ground was full of broken plum blossoms and falling snow, and dead branches and leaves fell all over the ground. Qingqing looked around and instantly understood that this was where Jimo Xing usually practiced secretly on his own.
My heart was so painful that I had no energy to even cry, so I held Xingxing in my arms, dismounted and leaned against an old plum tree.
The trunk of the plum tree was rough, which seemed to be a little more unusual compared to the rugged old trees that most people were accustomed to seeing. Qingqing saw that although there was a thin layer of snow floating on the trunk of the plum, there were faint traces of being scratched by a sharp weapon.
Then he stepped forward and brushed away the layer of white snow.
Only eight characters were carved into the tree trunk, clearly before Qing Qing's eyes.
Qingqing ran all the way, only to realize that the sky and the earth around her were dark, as if the entire night screen was about to collapse. All kinds of emotions surged in her heart, and she forgot what crying meant. At this moment, the young man's handwriting turned into a word in the tree, and Qingqing suddenly restrained himself.
Tears welled up incessantly, shoulders shook, and kept sobbing.
"The clouds are falling and the fog is rising, and the dead are returning to the sand."
"Knowing that it's not possible but insisting on helping each other, dying in a foreign land without returning the body... Stars, is this the leisurely meaning of Beike?" Qingqing asked choked with sobs, trembling her hands, covering the stars and fighting for her life at the last moment.
Open your eyes.
The mountains are falling and the leaves are falling back to their roots.