Chapter 109 A black flower grows on the back of the boy
Chapter 109 A black flower grows on the boy’s back
In the border town, on the journey, in Lao Bizhai, in many places, Ning Que once told Sangsang many times, so what if I can't practice. Master, if I practice my sword skills well, I can cut them to pieces, but at least
Nowadays, this seemingly sonorous and powerful declaration can only be spiritual comfort or spiritual masturbation to a large extent.
He knew what incredible abilities the strong men in the world of cultivation had, and he never expected to defeat a practitioner in a head-on battle, let alone the swordsman in front of him who had obviously at least entered the realm of non-confusion.
This is his first battle with practitioners. He only has some indirect experience. He does not hold out much hope, but he will not despair. He has always believed that only the dead need to despair.
The water on the charcoal stove gradually boiled, the heat steamed, and the boiling water rushed into the tea cup. Ning Que looked at this picture carefully, at Yan Suqing's every move, at his shoulders, at his hands, without listening to the other party.
Anything that might weaken his will to fight, when he saw this man going to pour tea, his eyes suddenly brightened.
Ning Que's hand wanted to hold the tea cup, so naturally he could no longer perform the sword technique. Ning Que's legs that were as solid as nails on the ground tightened, and his body suddenly fell forward. He dragged the long sword with both hands, and with all the strength of his body, Hu
Jump away!
Feeling the strong wind blowing in front of him, looking at the young soldier who was dragging his knife behind him and fighting for his life, Yan Suqing's eyes showed a mixture of pity and ridicule. He reached out of his sleeve with his right hand and spread his fingers gently in the night wind.
brush.
The loud sound of breaking wind in the small building near the lake was not the air flow stirred up by Ning Que's leaping body, but the sound of the deep night being torn apart by some force, and the buzzing sound of the dark sword shadow that disappeared behind.
The sound was loud, suddenly in front and suddenly behind, and the ghosts and gods could not predict its position. It tore through the night in an instant and pierced Ning Que's back like lightning!
The bamboo leaves blown by the wind at the bamboo wall suddenly became silent, and then panic spread everywhere. The hot water mist at the charcoal stove suddenly condensed, and then settled extremely slowly to the ground. The time on the stone flat in the courtyard seemed to become
Much slower.
Is this the power of a swordsman's full blow?
Feeling the absolute coldness coming from behind, and the sharpness that was already breaking his heart even before it came into contact, Ning Que felt such emotion in his mind, knowing that the hand of death was about to touch his back.
.
But he did not look back, did not dodge, he still rushed forward like a fierce tiger, still running, because he knew that there was no way out if he looked back, and dodging at such a close distance was in vain. At this moment, he could only run, running towards death.
Or run faster than death, so as to have the last glimmer of hope.
Rushing to the spot two steps in front of Yan Suqing, Ning Que completely ignored the aura of death so close behind him. He stared at the opponent's neck with his eyes wide open. With one mistake of his hands, he concentrated all his strength on the sword and slashed at him fiercely!
Looking at the fierce sword light coming towards him, the tea cup held by Yan Suqing in his left hand just touched his lips, with no expression on his face. He could clearly see in the sea of breath of heaven and earth, the handleless little boy under the control of his mind.
The sword had already flown behind Ning Que like lightning, and before the blade fell, the young man would die.
The simple sword in Ning Que's hand was still three feet away from Yan Suqing's neck.
Yan Suqing's flying sword was still one foot away from Ning Que's back.
The flying sword controlled by the practitioner is faster than the sword swung by the best swordsman in the world.
No matter how you calculate it, although Ning Que bravely fought for a desperate chance, it is a pity that this last fight can only save his own life, but cannot hurt Yan Suqing in the slightest.
The next moment, Ning Que should have died, but he didn't.
Using the force of dragging the knife to chop, he quietly let go of his left hand, reached behind his back very naturally, and grasped a piece of hard object protruding from the wrapping cloth.
He held the handle of the big black umbrella.
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Slender and steady fingers grasped the handle of the umbrella and turned it hard. The coarse cloth wrapped around the umbrella suddenly deformed. The solid hard-woven fabric arched and then tore in an instant, revealing a few touches of black inside, which were spinning.
Tearing the fabric apart is like a dragon that has been dormant for a long time and violently raises its head from the ground. It tears more and more coarse cloth, revealing more and more black, gradually extending into a black umbrella surface.
The black umbrella surface rotated and opened, and its area suddenly expanded. It was like a big black flower that was instantly stimulated by the condensed spring breeze. It opened with a puff, covering Ning Que's back and blocking the buzzing sound.
The shadow of the dark sword screamed sadly.
Yan Suqing mobilized all her mental power to make a decisive blow with the sword shadow, which carried endless power. However, when the small handleless sword stabbed the seemingly ordinary and greasy surface of the big black umbrella, something very unimaginable happened.
Subsequent changes.
There was no sound of the umbrella tearing, nor was there any violent collision.
The extremely sharp flying sword pierced the black umbrella surface, like a fallen leaf falling into an endless black quagmire, or like a tired mosquito landing lightly on the black plaque of the old shop.
The flying sword that vibrated and buzzed at high speed seemed to be stuck to the surface of the big black umbrella, and suddenly returned to absolute silence.
After a while, the fallen leaves that fell into the endless black quagmire slowly sank without a trace, and the tired mosquitoes that landed on the black plaque of the old shop fell helplessly into the air, falling toward the end of their lives.
The previously agile and sharp handleless sword seemed to have lost all its life in an instant. It fell from the big black umbrella and slowly fell to the ground.
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There is a thread broken in the world of heaven and earth vitality.
Yan Suqing's expression suddenly changed, and he realized that he couldn't sense his natal sword. A sharp roar burst out from his lips. He released the crude tea cup with his left hand, put his palms together, and clamped the blade that Ning Que had struck with one hand!
There was a hair's length between his palm and Ning Que's blade. They were not completely touching, but in that tiny space, there seemed to be some kind of power filling it, as tight as cotton.
The sharp whistling sound echoed in the quiet small lakeside building. The flying sword that had just fallen to the ground bounced when it heard the whistling sound, but it could not fly again. It looked extremely miserable and futile, just like the frost falling in late autumn.
The old mosquito on the ground had its thin wings frozen into glass ice. The so-called struggle was more like a convulsion before death.
Yan Suqing's eyes were filled with murderous intent, and he shouted again. He slapped away the cold blade with both palms, and his right hand came out through his sleeves. His body swept sideways and jumped up from the chair, and he pointed the sword straight at Ning Que's throat.
.
At this moment, the crude and bulky tea cup fell heavily to the ground, throwing out black and red clay flakes all over the floor. The hot water mixed with the tea leaves were scattered in radial patterns, and the white hot air escaped in panic.
…
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Yan Suqing also pointed out that the sword was stabbing Ning Que's throat, and then drew an arc slightly to the left, which was farther than the straight thrust. This also gave Ning Que the final reaction time in the critical moment of life and death.
He had to do this because he wanted to avoid the big black umbrella behind Ning Que. Subconsciously, he didn't want to touch the big black umbrella, even if it touched it at all. The open
The big black umbrella, with its oily and dirty umbrella surface, looked even darker than the pre-dawn darkness of this small lakeside house.
Yan Suqing didn't know what this big black umbrella was, but as a swordsman who had been immersed in the spiritual path for many years and had quit the military for the past ten years to hide among the tea-scented clay and made great progress, he could vaguely feel it.
The fear that this big black umbrella brings to oneself is the fear inherent in the practitioner's instinct.
It was precisely because of this deepest fear in his heart that Yan Suqing pointed the sword a little slower than normal. It was also in this extremely short time that Ning Que had time to move the black umbrella to the left side of his body.
The big black umbrella that had been fully opened at this time was very large, like a big black flower floating on the lake. It obediently followed Ning Que's fingers from his right shoulder to his left shoulder, and then covered his entire body.
Yan Suqing's fingers stabbed the surface of the big black umbrella hard.
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The feeling when you poke your fingers on the surface of the black umbrella...it's a bit slippery, a bit sticky, and a bit disgusting.
Yan Suqing stared, looking at the place where his fingertips came into contact with the black umbrella surface. The fear deep in his heart surged out, his body trembled violently, and his face turned extremely pale in an instant - he was extremely shocked to find that with
The fear surging out of his heart was also caused by the telepathy in his body and the vitality of heaven and earth that he mobilized with his telepathy.
The big black umbrella is like the deepest and deepest endless night, it will swallow up all the light!
Yan Suqing never expected that he would be forced into such a situation by an ordinary person and a seemingly ordinary big black umbrella, but he knew that he had been forced to the edge of the cliff of life and death!
He did not retract his sword finger, because as soon as the light turns into the dark night, there must be a winner, either day or night, before and after sunrise and sunset, no one can leave early!
Only a shrill and unpleasant roar burst out from his lips. This practitioner who had been hidden among the people for more than ten years finally burst out with his most extreme strength, destroying his mind power at a terrifying speed, passing through the snowy mountains and seas of air.
Scattered around the body, he mobilized all the breath of heaven and earth that could be sensed by the lakeside house, condensed it in front of his finger and turned into a sword to stab the black umbrella!
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The practitioner's domineering and sharp sword power was transmitted from the surface of the big black umbrella to the umbrella handle, and then to Ning Que's hand holding the umbrella handle. He lowered his head and stabilized the black umbrella with his left hand and shoulder blade, listening to the wrist bones.
There was a rattling sound, and he felt the terrifying power being endured by his body, gritting his teeth tightly and groaning without retreating.
At this time, he was like a soldier of the Tang Dynasty with a big black umbrella as a shield and a sword behind him. He was standing at the forefront of the decisive battle on the grassland, desperately resisting the violent impact of the barbarian tribe outside the shield. He could not retreat.
It was a rout of thousands of miles. Everyone who came out of the Tang Dynasty's frontier fortress army had this sense of discipline and courage!
At this time, all his energy and strength were concentrated on the umbrella handle to resist Yan Suqing's sword finger, which had accumulated a lifetime of cultivation. Moreover, he faintly felt that there was something very precious in his body, which was constantly being lost along the umbrella handle.
It kept flowing into the canopy of the big black umbrella, so he couldn't lift the simple knife trailing behind him with his right hand.
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The fingers were above the umbrella, and the person was inside the umbrella. The desperate stalemate lasted for who knows how long. The vitality of heaven and earth surged between the small buildings near the lake, and condensed in front of Yan Suqing's fingers, turning into a very short and sharp wave.
The sword thrust fiercely.
Whether it is the fluttering bamboo leaves or the cooling mist, it seems that the tense atmosphere in the venue is felt.
Yan Qing snorted softly, the veins on his pale face appearing and then disappearing.
The big black umbrella stepped back a little.
The umbrella handle slipped from Ning Que's left hand and hit him hard on the head. The extremely sharp sword finally succeeded in penetrating the surface of the big black umbrella and pierced in from the collision point of the umbrella handle.
With a pop, blood spurted out from between Ning Que's mouth and nose, spreading along the edge of the mask, staining his young face red.
On the other side of the black umbrella, blood began to drip from the corners of Yan Suqing's eyes, and the light in his eyes gradually dimmed. He had squeezed too much of his mental power and was almost exhausted.
Now let's see who can last longer.
The handle of the big black umbrella kept pressing on Ning Que's chest like a mountain. Blood kept pouring out from his mouth and nose. The mask was completely wet with blood, and blood kept dripping along the edge of the mask.
, dripping on his shoes.
He raised his head with great difficulty, and glanced at the edge of the black umbrella with some dull eyes, looking at the tea master outside the umbrella, and found that Yan Suqing's thin cheeks had become even thinner at this time, and his eye sockets were sunken, and he must be about to burst.
Can't stand it any longer.
Suddenly, Ning Que felt that the power coming from the umbrella handle was a little weaker!
He suddenly raised his head, held the umbrella handle tightly with his left hand, pressed the umbrella handle with his chest, and forcibly took a step forward!
The big black umbrella was like an indestructible shield, pushing Yan Suqing back a step!
A fierce howl of a cruel fight between a prairie beast roared from the young man's mouth. He mobilized the last remaining strength in his body, lifted up the simple knife that was dragged on the ground, and slashed it with one blow!
With a click, the blade dug deeply into Yan Suqing's neck, and then continued forward with an extremely unpleasant and terrifying sound of breaking bones and flesh, until it came out from the other side.
The eyes on Yan Suqing's head stared at the young man behind the black umbrella in disbelief. Then his head tilted and fell from his neck. It bounced twice on the ground and rolled into the still warm and steaming tea.
middle.
The big black umbrella slowly dropped, the handle still tightly held in Ning Que's hand.
Ning Que stared at the head on the ground, panted rapidly, and said, "You are used to being a tea master, so you are no longer a swordsman, because you even forgot to hire a personal attendant."
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The darkness before dawn is so deep, and the city of Chang'an is so quiet at this time. There are no pedestrians on the streets, and not even a cat that is used to walking at night can be seen. A man running out of a street somewhere in Nancheng
The bloody boy ran staggeringly, and sometimes his weak legs could not support him, and he would fall heavily to the ground.
Blood was dripping from the edge of the mask. He felt that his vision was a little blurred and his thinking was even a little confused. He didn't know where he had gone, whether it was due to excessive blood loss or some other reason.
"If I want to take your life, I will definitely take your life."
He murmured subconsciously, looking for a way home.
The sound came from the mask that was stained with blood and then stuck, and it seemed a little deformed.
He had heard the siren before, and his remaining sanity told him that he must leave here as soon as possible. The government had been alerted, and if the Yulin Army was dispatched from Chang'an City later, he would have no choice but to die.
So he continued to run wildly, running wildly on Zhuque Street, which he did not recognize.
The black umbrella tied behind his back bounced up from time to time, and then opened up, one after another.