The ink burned over the rolling corpse and went straight to the foot of the mountain. Out of the enchantment, his eyes immediately fell on Nangong Temple.

At this time, the imprisonment of Nangong Temple had been solved, and Ye Yexi had one knee on one side and wrapped him with a wound. Mei Hanxue is cold-eyed, quietly sitting between Jiangdongtang and Nangongyu, sitting in front of him, his fingertips moving gently, the sound of running water.

It is necessary to know that Mei Hanxue is the master of the Kunlun Snow Palace, and it is said that this person is a ghost, his body is extremely embarrassing, and the number of roads often changes. After a while, he can’t be serious, and then it’s a confusing door. effort.

To his blessing, Jiang Dongtang’s group of people hated not being able to live in Nangong, but they still had no choice but to sit on the stone next to them and blink.

Seeing the ink burned down, the sound of the plum-containing snow slammed, and the piano was picked up, and he nodded slightly.

One style of work is extremely dignified Zhou Zheng.

"How is the mountain?"

Ink burning: "It's all fake."

"Fake?" Mei Hanxue slightly frowning, Jiangdongtang people heard it, but also surrounded them, Huang Xiaoyue still lying in the pavilion next to him, let several disciples give him a slap in the shoulder, make a breath The sly look of weakness, but the words can not help but pick up a slit in the eyes, erect ears to listen.

Ink burning road: "Xu Shuanglin is not on this mountain, I am afraid it is in Lushan. I-"

He hasn't finished yet, and the Nangong Temple has been pale and slammed into the ink: "Xu Shuanglin is on the mountain?"

"Maybe, but not fully grasped."

Nangong lingered for a while, murmured: "...Impossible, Lushan only listened to the orders of the Nangong family, Xu Shuanglin him..."

What he remembered, suddenly slogan, and then the last bit of blood on his face faded, a pair of bright eyes staring at the burning face.

He forgot for a moment, Xu Shuanglin, originally also named Nangong.

The Nangong family, a Liu Yixue, was once a young Yingjie who was praised by everyone. Everyone felt that the Confucianist Gate would once again be in the hands of the brothers, such as the sky. Who can think of the ending of this brother and the Confucianist, it will be the situation today.

Nangong stunned his eyes and stopped talking.

At this time, other people have also come down from Huangshan. Thousands of people are like swimming fish, crowded and returning to the mountains.

Chu Yuening came over, Xue Meng and Shi Yi were behind him. He looked at Nangong: "How did the hand hurt?"

"I don't get in the way, it's my own plan." Nangong said, "Thank you for the great master."

Xue Meng sighed: "Teacher is a master, what is the master, really, the face that the master respects you, you still don't, you..." @无限好文, in Jinjiang Literature City

"I didn't worship Master." Nangong's dry lips were slightly open and closed: "The students learned and never mastered the master. When they were young, the masters did not have to be on the mind."

Chu nightning: "..."

"Sorry. But I didn't remember the three worships of the year."

When Chu Ning had not spoken, he saw Jiang Yan and several other martial art heads coming over here, followed by the 7788 enthusiasts. He was not used to speaking private words in front of so many people, and he licked his lips. He did not say much more. He only handed him a small pot of medicine in his bag.

“External daily application, three days to be cured.”

He simply said this, and the others have already arrived.

Huang Xiaoyue was also helped by the trepidation from the pavilion. This cup of 羹, Jiang Dongtang is undoubtedly not to be missed.

Today, the lonely moon night is the head of the public. In front of the big event, it is reasonable to speak by Jiang Yan. However, Jiang Yan looked at Nangong Temple, and at the same time he was not sure what attitude he should be most suitable for him --

The Confucianism has been rampant for so many years, and many martial arts have accumulated enmity. These enemies have nowhere to vent, and they will eventually fall into the Nangong.

But what is wrong with Nangong? The swordsmanship of Bitan Mountain Villa was not taken by him. The price of the sky was not something he did. He didn’t even know where the sword was.... His father Nangong Liu was very guilty, and he died when he died. Everyone now says that the father’s debts are repaid, but if they are all paid by the father’s debts, how many people are there, can they be clean and clear?

What's more, this young man is still the only blood of the Nangong family, and the key to opening the gate of Lushan.

"you……"

Jiang Yan opened his mouth.

Just said one of you, I heard a sudden whispered next to someone saying: "Nangong donor, you have to go with us, the so-called ringing bell still needs to ring the bell, the ruin of the Confucianism gate, you million Don't let go, don't let go, stand by."

Jiang Yan saw that it was the master of the abbot of the Wushou Temple. He couldn’t help but sneer in his heart. The old vulture was not clean, but he also wanted to pick some beams to come.

However, this is just right, anyway, he is not good at socializing, he lazily closed his mouth, standing next to him, watching the master of the mysterious mirror holding the staff, Amitabha and Nangong 驷 大道.

Nangong驷 heard a few words and said: "Yes, I am going to Lushan with you."

Master Xuanjing did not think that he would be so pleased to help open the enchantment of the Lushan Mountain. After a while, it was only ten: "Amitabha, the donor can understand the truth, the Buddha knows, and the sin is reduced."

Nangong had a moment to seem to want to say something, but he did not say that Naobaijin screamed in his quiver and wanted to climb out, and he was stunned back.

"I went to Lushan, I don't want Confucianism to be a hero for hundreds of years, and I am a slap in the face of the tiger." Nangong said, "I am grateful to the Master for his kindness and pointing me the way."

In this way, the key to open Lushan will be there.

However, the four evil mountains, each mountain's adaptability characteristics are very different, and unlike Huangshan, if you want to go to Lushan, whether it is the Nangong family or any foreigner brought in by the Nangong family, you must do two pieces. thing--

First, fasting for ten days.

Secondly, when you go to the Longshan Mountains to which Lushan belongs, you must walk on foot. You can't ride a sword. You can't ride a horse. With one foot, you can turn over the first three mountains to show your heart.

Xue Zhengyi counted the time and said: "From here to the dragons and mountains, if you are riding a horse, it will take about ten days, just to complete the fast. I don’t think there is anything important for the princes, and they don’t have to rush back to their respective sects. Going to the valley, let's go together."

The main road of the Snow Palace: "Also, if you go together, you can negotiate the next countermeasures."

Xue Zheng said: "It’s just that we have 3,000 people here and there are some horses that are hard to find..."

At this time, a weak voice came from the crowd, and one hand was lifted up. It was a scorpion, depicting a wretched man wearing a red robes, embroidered with a black night cat totem on the edge of the robes: "My Villa There is, it should be enough."

"Ma Zhuangzhu?" Jiang Yan's eyebrows picked up.

This person is the head of the "Taolu Mountain Villa" of the nine martial art schools in the upper cult, and he is ranked third in the "Unknown" list that Xue Meng bought, but now Nangong Liu Yiming screams, On wealth, he should be able to rank second.

Compared with Jiang Yan, Ma Rong appears to be more grounded, and some businessmen look like. However, after all, the two people have different ways of collecting money. Jiang Yan is fierce, the road is wild, the treasure is much, and the black market is done.

Ma Zhuangzhu has set up large and small stations in the realm of repairing, to undertake the delivery of various parcels, the rental of Xianma, Xianzhou and Lingli carriages. Their villas are good at making all kinds of flexible boats and raising a large number of strong cattle and horses. Therefore, Ma Zhuang has an nickname, called "receiving the horse."

In the face of the cold face and sorrowful Jiang Yan, the pick-up horse looks awkward and shrinks the neck. He said: "Would you like to go to Lin Lingyu? The horse on the Jiangzhangmen House is definitely more than the next one." ""

Everyone: "..."

Jiang licked his smile with a pleated face, silent for a moment, saying: "I just feel that the Ma Zhuangzhu generously helped, and there is no other meaning. This place is close to the Taotao Mountain Villa, Ma Zhuang is willing to borrow everyone to mount, naturally It’s no better.” @无限好文, in Jinjiang Literature City

The Mazhuang owner heard a sigh of relief and smiled. "Then please take a step to go to Xinzhuang. It’s too late. It’s better to stay overnight in Zhuang, and start the next day.”

Taotao Mountain Villa stands on the bank of Xizi Lake and is built on the top of Gushan Mountain. However, this lonely mountain is a mountain. In fact, it is just a small hill. When climbing to the top of the mountain, it only takes half a hour.

"Come on!" Ma Zhuang was eagerly standing in front of the majestic red mountain gate, raising his hand and removing the guardian enchantment. "Please come in, please come in."

Huangshan and his entourage, or the heart of your head, or anxiety, is also worried, but Ma Zhuangzhu can quickly be like a lover, but he can still hold a steaming smile. Everyone looked at each other and smiled, but they didn't say anything. The head was the first, the elders followed, and the pro-pass again. Later, the disciples of Haohao Tangtang entered the enchantment gate of Taotao Villa.

Xue Meng and the ink burned and said: "What kind of ghost is this pick-up horse? I laughed and got a goose bump. He shouldn't be with Xu Shuanglin. Is this going to invite you to join us?"

"...not."

"Are you so sure?"

Mo Yan said: "The lords and leaders of the Nine Gates are here. Now everyone is a soldier. If he is an associate of Xu Shuanglin, he can't do anything, but he will expose himself."

"What is he so happy to do?"

The ink sighed and said: "He is happy to make a fortune."

"Is it a fortune? What he did is obviously a loss-making business." Xue Meng's. Like him, he has no business mind. It is said that when he was a child, Mrs. Wang gave him a silver leaf and let him go to the hawker. As a result, he gave back a small kite and three greasy copper coins. The pit was extremely miserable, but I still felt that the kite looked good. I bought a happy one and it was worth it.

Where is such a person, where can he know the mind of the pick-up horse?

So after thinking for a long time, I was still embarrassed: "Are you wrong? He just said that he would borrow our horses, not renting our horses. He did not take the penny, he-"

At this time, the low-level disciples who were responsible for the hospitality of the guest house came to meet, and the ink set aside, indicating that he would not say it again. The maid, wearing a pink sable, smiled and led them to the temporary residence tonight. .

This row of courtyards relies on the mountain edge and can accommodate six people in one hospital. At dusk, the ink burned in front of the window of his own room, overlooking the mountains and the waves of the West Lake.

After coming down from Huangshan Mountain, the ink burned has been very anxious and extremely uneasy. At this time, the door was closed, and he finally revealed this kind of depression. He rubbed the window with one hand, and the other hand subconsciously played some kind of warmth in the palm of his hand.

The scenery in Jiangnan is always beautiful, but at the moment he does not appreciate it. The setting sun is faint. If someone sees the face on his face at this moment, he will not believe that he is the sinister ink master.

This is a face belonging to the predecessor of the emperor.

Haze.

The sun broke into his light brown eyes.

In the twilight, the ink drizzle changed.

The reborn person behind Xu Shuanglin made him shudder. He felt that he had a knife on his neck. The blade was attached to his skin, piercing his flesh, and the blood had leaked out.

But the man didn't have to cut it down, and he couldn't get back. He couldn't see who was standing behind him, and he would have his life anytime, anywhere.

He was very confused in his heart. He always felt that his reborn life could not last for too long.

If the day of the final battle is the day when the truth is revealed, what should he do?

What would an aunt's aunt look at him? What does the teacher think of him? How does Xue Meng see him?

There is also Chu Ning.

Chu nightning...

If the past events are exposed, will Chu Ning hate him more? Will it be afterwards that I don’t want to marry him even if I look at it?

The ink burns in a mess, the more you think, the colder you feel, the colder you are in your bones -

"...hey."

Suddenly, the thing that I played in my hand fell on the floor.

He picked it up and squinted.

There was some dust on the gadget. It seems that this courtyard of Taoyuan Villa has not lived for a long time, and it is not diligent to take care of it. The ground is gray.

Stayed.

The burning face was violently pale.

He suddenly realized what he was playing -

Lying in his palm is a black and warm piece.

Jane Chess! !

The ink burns and changes!

In his previous life, he developed a habit in the last two years before his death. Every time the mood is extremely complicated and extremely irritating, I can't help but gather the spiritual power in my palm and condense into a little sunspot, and play it over and over.

His habit, at that time, made many of the attendants in the palace horrified, and the ink burned the palace people to discuss this matter. They all felt that he was angry, and when he was angry, he would make a chess piece. To kill, you must refine your living beings into jealousy.

"Would you be afraid to throw your **** out of your hand at any time."

"Really, I would rather watch him play the skull of the dead."

"What are you afraid of? I am a close friend of my majesty. God knows how many times my legs are soft. How much spiritual power does it take to make a chess piece? Can he always play it? He must have purpose. Or vent... If I vent to me, what should I do..."

The smoldering is very speechless, but it is a bit funny.

He did not understand what these embarrassing palace people thought, and based on a certain attitude, to speculate on his heart.

In fact, he did not make any sense to make these pieces. This is just a private hobby of the Emperor, it is as simple as that. However, since he heard the opinions of the palace people, he sometimes played with his heart. He tried to fight the plaques in his hand and screamed at a certain scorpion, scaring those people to sue again and again, his legs were like sifting, he was on the face. As cold as it is, I feel amused in my heart.

That was the only fun of the last two years of his life.

He hasn't condensed Jane Chess for a long time.

It seems that subconsciously wants to be separated from the former self, and since the birth, the ink has never been cast this spell.

In the blink of an eye, seven or eight years have passed. He thought that he had to forget the set of minds and the set of mouths.

But he couldn’t escape it at all -

Sin is planted in his soul.

The ink burned and stared at the black child, and the palm of his hand could not tremble...

He suddenly looked desperate -

He suddenly did not know who he was. Is stepping Xianjun? Or is it a master of ink?

He suddenly didn't know where he was... is it at the West Lake? Or in front of Wushan Temple?

Suddenly he couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality. He was shaking and couldn't stop shaking. The little black child was in his eyes, like a heavy nightmare, like a black smudged blood. He had a flaw in his head. The voice couldn’t help but laugh, screaming:

"Ink rain! Ink rain! You can't escape! You can't escape! You can only be a wicked person, you can only be a devil! You are a disaster star! Disaster star!!"

Throw a sound.

"Oh." Suddenly the door was ringing.

The ink burned and woke up, cold sweats. He held the piece in his hand and turned his head back: "Who?"

"It's me." The outside man replied, "Xue Meng."