Volume Three Yinjiang Chapter Ninety-seventh Unswerving until Death
Raising his hand to take the bone flute, Qingqing placed it in the sun and looked at it carefully. The head and tail of the bone flute were slightly raised, and in the sunlight, there was a golden crack running through the holes of the flute. Qingqing tried to lift it
Hand, use your fingers to cover the round flute hole.
The body of the flute is warm and moist, and when you cover the hole with your fingers, it seems to make a slight "buzzing" sound.
This magical weapon from the ancient Northern Desert was soaked in the scorching sun. Holding it in his hand, it had a calmness of yellow sand. Qingqing raised his eyes and saw Jimo Yao smiling faintly at him and blinking.
Qingqing lowered her head and let the melody that was already familiar to her heart flow through her fingertips:
"The trees are covered with frost, and the geese are resting on the sand. The wind and moon are gone, and the travelers from the north feel sorry for themselves. Who knows the leisure in the music?"
Thinking back carefully, Qingqing discovered that in fact, Xingxing and herself were both people who had never left their homeland since childhood. The young man left the dusty yellow sand that he had grown up with, and with a heart of revenge and a blood of struggle, embarked on the journey.
He followed the sound of the piano and led to the path of hatred. The young Jimo boy, Qingqing didn't even know his exact age, fell under the short scimitar to the sound of the piano that he had remembered for a long time.
But Qing Qing left Li Rongshan reluctantly, and what he wanted was not as simple as finding someone, drinking a pot of wine, and killing a life.
The opponent between the Linghu disciples and the leader is an ancestor they have never met, and the promise he left to the entire world. Qingqing sometimes thinks about the spring water he drank, the air he breathed, the blood he played, and the music he played.
The melodies are all elusive and inextricably linked to those who lived in another era. But what the disciples of Lirong Mountain know is that the ancestors of the Linghu family have not left any legacy to the disciples from generation to generation.
How lucky.
Everyone in the world with the surname Linghu only owns a list of sect rules, a few piano scores, and a collection of books covered with thick dust in the Book Library Pavilion. But now there are just a few scattered collections of music scores, and
A broken wooden stick with mottled spots can also cause a bloody storm in the world, causing many people to fight with each other and causing a lot of bloodshed.
And the head of Mo Chen who left all this behind has passed away, leaving behind the next generation of Linghu disciples to struggle within the constraints they were born with.
Looking back at the snow on the night screen, the stars have already fallen in their mission. And how far Qingqing and Master can go, I don’t know. Maybe when the biting poison that can take away fragile lives integrates into myself
At the moment of blood, I took on the unknown that should not have belonged to my age.
Thinking of this, Qingqing's palms suddenly froze, and a bass sound almost disappeared——
No matter how far we go, we are not willing to be separated from our master. This is the only promise that two people can leave to each other while embracing each other in the moonlight and watery snow.
The sound of the bone flute sounded lonely in the desert. Could it be that the sound of the piano and the string sword that gathered Gong Shangjiao Zhengyu were waiting for the figure of the white jade flute to come there again with the heat of the sand dunes?
Attacking beside the green shadow?
People often ask, "Beijing guests feel sorry for themselves, but who knows the leisure in the song. But there is no way of knowing that the world is dangerous, and the young girls from Dongshan and Beimo, how can there be so much leisure in the song..."
The wind and moon are gone, and the northern guest feels sorry for himself. The flute player is no longer a young northern guest. After all, no one can understand the leisure in the music.
Qingqing thought for a long time and moved her fingers according to her thoughts. She felt that everything around her was silent, and even the arrogant north wind stopped whistling. Unknowingly, a slight warmth brushed her cheeks. When she opened her eyes,
It turned out that Jimo Yao had changed his clothes at some point.
Two long sleeves as long as water were scattered again in the misty sand.
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As Qingqing's flute sobbed, the sleeves of Jimo's master danced in the wind, gradually integrating into Qingqing's music. The flute and the dance, dotted in a corner of the vast desert, were actually a rare pleasure.
Even though the flute player's fingering skills were unfamiliar, there was always a bit of Lingfeng's murderous aura in the sleeves of the sleeve dancer.
Qingqing remembered that his master often said that the beauty of the so-called temperament is that even if a person does not understand the use of the eight tones and four instruments, he can still feel the joy hidden in the temperament. It is no different from swords, guns and sticks. If you don't understand, you will always feel that fighting and killing is really a bad way to kill time.
But Gongshangjiao Zhengyu is different. Whether it is the streets or pavilions, whether it is fishermen, farmers, or dignitaries, before a piece of piano music, it seems that only the original clean soul is left behind, letting the music in the The shock penetrated directly into everyone's mind.
The beauty of this tune can both save and kill people.
For example, the healing sound of Master Che Xin's flute almost saved his life. However, the towering Baiyin Qin took away people's sanity and harmed their souls, and Young Master Nan had to go crazy for it.
At this moment, Qingqing allowed random thoughts in her mind and watched Jimo Yao dancing with the wind, feeling a rare joy in her heart. As a child who grew up accustomed to being immersed in the sound of music, she often explored the fun of various music scores. At this time, I couldn't help but feel a bit of sadness that it was difficult to reach the rhythm of the music, as if the ink marks in the score were thousands of miles away from me, and I could never find the real interest.
Seeing Jimo Yao's sleeves dancing non-stop amid the sound of the flute, Qingqing's eyes suddenly focused, and she felt enlightened and enlightened. It turned out that it was such a beautiful thing to have a dance rhythm and accompany it in the music.
Qingqing always thinks of the song "Jianghe", although it has touched her heart countless times, but it still can't compare to the dance accompanying it at this moment. If one day, all the hundreds of voices and instruments in the rivers and lakes can sing in harmony like this, I'm afraid that no matter how powerful the white jade flute is, no matter how rare the "Fan Ya Ji" is, they can't learn this wonderful pleasure of knowing each other.
Qingqing shook his head slightly and smiled bitterly in his heart. If the music in the rivers and lakes could really play together, there would be no need to shed blood today. Thinking of this, he suddenly felt a strange sound in his ears, almost interrupting the melody of his flute.
He quickly looked up and saw two silhouettes of the leader of Jimo, heading straight towards him.
Is the head of Jimo actually going to take action now? Qingqing was startled, and quickly stopped the melody, used the bone flute as a flute, passed it forward, and was wrapped up with the sleeve wind. She saw the long sleeves skillfully playing He rolled up the head of the bone flute and exerted force in his hand, as if he wanted to roll up both the person and the flute.
Regardless of the fact that his arms were sore and numb from the shock, Qingqing was afraid that the magic weapon would fall out of his hand, so he continuously transferred his inner strength to the body of the bone flute. Unexpectedly, Jimo Yao actually withdrew his strength and hung the body on the body of the flute. He circled around and jumped behind Qing Qing like lightning.
The other sleeve was wrapped around Qingqing's waist, and with a gentle tug, he pulled Qingqing and the bone flute in front of Jimoyao.
It seemed that there were bursts of breathing close to her ears. Qingqing felt that the Jimo leader's breath was fragrant, leaning against her shoulders and neck. A whisper came close to her ear, and she said with a bit of pride: "Look, Without your white jade flute, how can you be my opponent?"
Qingqing's eyes widened suddenly - indeed, walking in the world without a magic weapon, how much revenge can still be left in his heart?
Loosening his long sleeves, the leader of Jimo Yao took a few steps back, shook his clothes, and sat back down as if nothing had happened. Seeing that Qing Qing was still in a daze, Jimo Yao smiled: "From here to the east,
There is one
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This old dead tree has been standing in the desert for who knows how many thousands of years. After you finish eating, go quickly - Master Linghu is waiting for you there."
Leader Linghu is not far away, waiting for Qingqing to remember the promise he left to each other.
"Master." Qingqing murmured in a low voice, looking to the east, and there was indeed a ball of flame, shining golden light in the sun.
Not wanting to waste a moment, Qingqing spread out his hands and spread the bone flute in front of Jimo Yao. The moment the leader of Jimo picked up the bone flute, Qingqing turned around and walked away, almost knocking over the person who was walking in the tent.
Several women at the door kept running towards the old dead tree.
Seeing the Linghu girl turn into a small black dot and finally disappearing from sight, the leader of Jimo looked at the maid next to him - two fragrant roasted lamb legs were placed on the plate, with a few drops of hot oil almost splashing
on oneself.
"It's really no fate." Jimoyao smiled bitterly to himself, picked up a leg of lamb, and bit into it fiercely.
Tears mixed with the oil on his cheeks, the master held the bone flute in his hand and shook it hard. When he opened his hand again, the mottled, smooth and warm instrument had already turned into fragments.
Qingqing didn't even care about breathing evenly, and only knew that her legs were scrambling to run forward. After a while, she saw the familiar back of the green robe appearing in front of her eyes.
"Master!" Qingqing couldn't help shouting loudly, and Ziqin turned around in response.
At this moment, Qingqing and Ziqin were only a dozen steps away. But for some reason, Qingqing slowed down, as if her legs suddenly became heavy and she couldn't move any further. Ziqin kept moving toward her.
Walking in the same direction, Qingqing just stood there blankly.
Leader Linghu said nothing and held his disciple in his arms.
Qingqing only felt a warm breeze blowing against her face. It was different from the scorching heat of the desert, and it was also not like the severe cold of the glacier. It just brought a just right tenderness, tightly wrapping every inch of her breath. Her heart was beating uneasily before.
Gradually calming down, Qingqing rested her head on her master's shoulder, greedily wanting to melt into this embrace.
"Master..." Qingqing raised her head, letting the sun shine warmly on her face, "Disciple realizes his mistake."
"What's wrong?" Ziqin's tone was pretending to be harsh.
Qingqing kissed Ziqin quietly on the cheek: "Disciples should not abandon their master and run away alone."
It was this gentle kiss that made Ziqin feel like there was a string in her heart. With a light flick, it played an indescribable lingering sound. This spreading warm sound penetrated into the bone marrow and flowed along the blood.
Everywhere in the body. Ziqin held Qingqing's face, kissed her deeply on the forehead, and then hugged her disciple tighter.
Qingqing clenched his fist slightly and kept knocking on Ziqin's arm: "Master, let go quickly, this disciple won't leave."
Ziqin just held on to it: "In front of Master, there is no next time."
"What next time?"
"Next time you run away secretly, Master will chase you back no matter how far away you are."
Qingqing raised her chin: "Then what?"
"Of course I will punish you!"
Before Ziqin finished speaking, Qingqing suddenly reached forward with both hands and pushed the master away with a "Thousand Miles of Clouds" gesture, then turned around and made a show of running away. Ziqin chased after a few steps, but unexpectedly Qingqing turned around and was about to pounce.
In front of Ziqin.
The two people's burning eyes fell on each other's Qingyi. Ziqin put her arms around Qingqing's waist and let herself indulge in the deepest kiss...