The small lakeside building shaded by bamboo walls is quiet and dark. Beneath the middle-aged tea master is a stone chair carved from Kunhu stone. In front of him is a tea table carved from Kunhu stone. There is an ebony tea case on the table, and a warm tea cup on the table.
There are clean teapots and teacups. Next to the table is a small portable charcoal stove. A faint hot mist oozes from the kettle spout on the stove, but it has not yet boiled.
On such a hot summer night, the middle-aged tea master seemed to be unable to feel the heat brought by the small charcoal stove. He was wrapped in a single coat, as calm as a hospitable host waiting to return home on a winter snowy night... He was Yan Suqing.
Ning Que was very sure of this. The sense of vigilance he had felt outside the small house near the lake was finally confirmed at this moment, because the other party had noticed in advance that he was coming and had already noticed his intention.
He glanced at the tea residue under the bamboo wall with his peripheral vision. After a moment of silence, he looked at the tea master in the chair and asked: "Then be more direct... I want to know about the case of General Xuanwei's mansion being executed.
And the case of the massacre in Yanbian Mountain Village, does it have anything to do with you?"
Yan Suqing frowned slightly, not expecting that the young man who came to kill him tonight was actually because of those two events many years ago. He thought that no one in this world could remember those old events, so after a moment of silence he said with a smile: "Of course
It has something to do with me, otherwise how could I, an officer with a bright future in the military, become a tea artist who looks after the homes and homes of tea sellers?"
"I shouldn't be the first person you look for." He looked at Ning Que and asked, "How are the other people doing now? I haven't seen them for several years. I don't know what they are doing now."
Ning Que silently observed the small building near the lake and the surrounding activities, looked at this noble residence, and replied: "They don't live a very good life, at least not as good as you, and they can still live in such a good place."
Yan Suqing laughed out loud, shook his head and said with emotion: "You know why they all can't do well, but I can still live a good life? Because I am still of some use to the empire."
The clothes thrown around him randomly, the water on the small charcoal stove that was still not boiling, and the teacup without tea in his left hand all showed that the tea master had just woken up. He probably just got up because he noticed that Ning Que was approaching the small house near the lake, and
It's not like predicting an ambush situation in advance.
He was just a weak-looking tea master who worked with spring water for tea sets all day long. Why did he not call for help or run away when he knew someone was coming to kill him, but instead sat in a chair and waited so calmly? What credibility did he have? And a
What use can a tea artist be to the empire? How can a tea artist look after the homes and homes of tea merchants? Why can a tea artist have a better retired life than Chen Zixian?
In the blink of an eye, Ning Que thought about many possibilities, even the most impossible ones. An unprecedented solemn expression gradually appeared on the innocent brows outside the mask. He looked at the other person and asked, "Why don't you run away?"
"Why run away?"
Yan Suqing looked at the young man with a smile and said, "Since I'm awake, how could you kill me?"
After saying this, he gently flicked his sleeves, and a small, dim sword without a handle appeared on the stone tea table.
Ning Que's brows furrowed and his body became a little stiff, knowing that he had encountered the most impossible possibility: this thin and weak tea master... was actually a practitioner!
At this moment, he couldn't help but think of a conversation he had with the old man Lu Qingchen during the trip, that conversation about Chang'an City's swordsmen being as numerous as dogs and the swordsmen walking all over the place.
At that time, the old man Lu Qingchen laughed and said that this argument was definitely too exaggerated. After entering Chang'an City, although Ning Que had seen the practitioners of the South Gate of Haotian Dao opening an altar on the roadside to cast spells, and had followed Chao Xiaoshu to fight with the practitioners at the Spring Breeze Pavilion, but
I really didn't expect that a seemingly inconspicuous name on the revenge list would actually be a strong man in that world.
It was not in Zhuoer's intelligence, nor was Sangsang aware of it. No one could have imagined that the former military document appraiser and now the tea master supported by the tea merchants was actually a practitioner proficient in the art of controlling swords!
Ning Que's frowning eyebrows slowly relaxed. He looked at Yan Suqing in the chair and the small handleless sword in front of the thin middle-aged man. He smiled gently and said, "Since you won't run away, then I'll run away."
He ran away, and as soon as he finished speaking, he turned around without hesitation and rushed outside the small building near the lake like a galloping horse.
…
…
Yan Suqing watched with great interest the young man's back as he disappeared by the bamboo wall. He chuckled and shook his head and sighed: "Since you have come to kill a cultivator, can you still retreat after you come?"
Gentle words but containing strong self-confidence and murderous intent slowly came out from the lips of the thin middle-aged man. At the same time, he put down the large and crude tea cup held in his left hand, rolled up the cuff on his left arm with his right hand, and used the index finger of his left hand to
He then made a sword move and moved diagonally toward the empty spot outside the small building near the lake. His movements were extremely free and casual.
With a sideways movement of the fingers, the dim, lightless handleless sword on the stone tea table suddenly buzzed in a low voice, as if it had been filled with some magical energy, and suddenly bounced off the table, and then
It turned into a dark trail of light, tearing through the darkest night before dawn in the small building near the lake, and pierced directly outside the courtyard.
Ning Que's back felt like needle pricks of pain, but there was no trace of panic on his face exposed outside the mask, only calmness and calmness. He was about to rush out of the bamboo sea, but unexpectedly, his left foot stepped heavily on the ground.
, his whole body turned up, and then his right foot stepped on the thick bamboo like lightning.
Thumb! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
The solid soles of his shoes quickly stepped on the bamboo. The bamboo tree he was climbing on swayed, and countless bamboo leaves fell like broken arrows. He stepped on the bamboo tree and climbed to the courtyard wall in an instant, escaping from danger after danger.
He passed the sword light coming from the courtyard, then bent his knees slightly and swept towards the courtyard quickly with the vibration of the bamboo trees.
With a clang sound, the body like a sharp arrow had just passed over the courtyard wall, and the sharp sword was already unsheathed and in his hand. Ning Que groaned, exerted force on his waist and abdomen and turned his wrist, and the sword was like a snowstorm blowing over his head and face.
Yan Suqing struck at it!
From the moment he knew that the tea master was a strong practitioner, he knew that tonight he would inevitably face a terrible test of life and death again. He knew that his current strength was not enough to fight against a strong person in the world of cultivation, but he still did not
He thought about retreating because he knew that retreating when facing a practitioner would mean death.
At the Beishan Pass, he had seen how Peng Yutao, the most elite bodyguards of the Tang Dynasty, fought a great swordsman with their iron-blooded will and discipline. Outside the Chunfeng Pavilion, he had seen how Chao Xiaoshu relied on his own strength.
With his super strength and powerful control, he killed two strong practitioners from a foreign country. He learned some experience from them, that is, he can only advance but not retreat when facing practitioners. This experience may allow him to escape death.
So his retreat at the beginning was not retreat.
Rather, retreat is the way to advance.
And then kill people.
…
…
A crisp sound of Ding!
Ning Que twisted his body and swung his sword, and when the gray sword light escaped him, he fell from the air.
When we met on the first day of the new year, there was a gap the size of a grain of rice at the edge of the knife, and there was a tiny tear on the top of his shabby robe. However, his face and eyes outside the mask were still fearless, and his legs were as tight as two nails.
He was rooted to the ground, holding the long handle of the knife tightly with both hands, lowering his head slightly and observing the movements in the night vigilantly.
Suddenly, he flipped the long knife in his hand and avoided the sword light coming from the night on the right at the cost of a blood mark on his left shoulder. At the same time, the subtle vibration coming from his hand confirmed that his blade had at least touched it.
Flying sword.
Ning Que still lowered his head slightly, staring quietly at Yan Suqing in the chair not far away. He listened carefully to the slight buzzing sounds that sounded from time to time in the night around the small house near the lake, trying to determine the direction of the flying sword.
.
He took a step forward.
A falling bamboo leaf outside the courtyard was torn in half by an invisible force.
He fell backwards like a mountain, and the gray sword shadow brushed against his shoulder and flew into the air.
He slapped the ground hard with his right hand, tightened his waist and abdomen, and the mountain stood up again. His feet connected like lightning, and the gray sword shadow plunged into the gap between the stone slabs in front of his feet with a hiss, then quickly buzzed and flew away again.
Disappeared without a trace.
The position he was standing at now was three steps back from before.
The small oil lamp on the right side of the tea table glowed faintly, and Yan Suqing sat in the stone chair in a leisurely manner, smiling but not smiling.
The distance between the two people was only a few steps, but the darkness of these few steps was so insurmountable.
Because no one knows where the dim sword shadow is in the night.
…
…
Holding the long handle of the knife tightly with both hands, his feet stepped steadily on the stone slab, without stepping on gaps or protrusions, ensuring that he could borrow all the power of the earth at any time. Ning Que stared at the chair in the chair as motionless as a statue.
The tea master has no fear in his eyes, only calmness and concentration.
This was the first time in his life that he was fighting a cultivator alone. He knew that he had no chance. He knew that he was very likely to die tonight, so of course he was afraid.
But having been tortured by life and death too many times, Ning Que knew very well that fear was the most useless emotion at this time. Only by turning fear and tension into excitement could he turn the word life and death upside down.
The flying sword buzzed and lightning struck. He swung the sword and slashed. Even if it was in the air, he would avoid the vital parts at the last moment by relying on his fighting instincts honed on the battlefield and his strong body control.
Ding ding ding ding! The sword was like flying light and the sword was like snow. His body was cut with numerous dense cuts by the shadow of the sword. The blood seeped into his underwear and seeped out of the worn robe, and began to drip on the surface of his body, like a bloody man.
But Ning Que still held the sword tightly with both hands, his feet were like nails on the stone slab, and he stared at the strong man in the chair without any expression in his eyes. There was no panic, no fear, not even the fanaticism that should be expected when fighting desperately.
No.
"Soldiers coming back from the frontier?"
Yan Suqing gradually stopped smiling, looked at the bloody young man not far in front of him, and said calmly: "Fourteen consecutive swords failed to kill you directly, leaving only some small wounds on you. Only frontier soldiers have this kind of physical instinct."
.But I must remind you, even if the wound is small and the blood flows very slowly, if it bleeds for a long time, you will still die."
"I understand, so I will try to find an opportunity to chop off your head before the blood dries out." Ning Que replied.
"You won't have such a chance." Yan Suqing looked at Ning Que sympathetically and shook her head.
At this time, the water on the small charcoal stove finally began to boil, and hot water mist spurted out from the spout.
The tea master lifted the kettle on the stove with his left hand and poured it into the crude tea cup. He looked at the tea leaves that were floating in the boiling water, lowered his head and said: "I want to start drinking morning tea, so I won't play with you."