Che Xin lowered his eyebrows and looked at her, said "Good", then walked away step by step towards Ziqi and the others. Although the old monk had a kind face and a skinny body, he walked quickly and without a trace in the streets and alleys.

, in the blink of an eye, the boundary of the southern forest was established on the way.

For a moment, all I could see was yellow sand all over the sky, trees standing strangely tall and dry, and their bare branches covered with the lines of time.

Monk Chexin placed Qingqing on the ground. Qingqing immediately felt that the ground was soft and warm, which could easily swallow an ordinary person's limbs. Standing on such earth and rocks, practitioners could only rely on their own internal strength.

, to keep from being sucked into the ground, where is the extra ability to work hard and compete?

Qingqing knew in his heart that there was no way to escape, so he had to be led by the old monk into a gray and lonely temple.

When I looked up, I saw that there was no Vajra Protector in the temple. There was just a dusty stone statue standing in the middle of the temple. The sand and silk from my heart were rising, and the dust all over the temple was flying up. For an instant, no one could see the five fingers in the temple. When the smoke and dust dispersed,

The prototype of the stone statue finally appeared, and it didn't look like an ordinary worship object:

With three heads and seven eyes, four arms and nine bodies, they circled the main hall, baring their teeth and grinning in a terrifying manner.

Chexin didn't say much, his face was as calm as water, he sat cross-legged on the ground, closed his eyes, and seemed to be in trance. He took out a piccolo from the monk's robe, placed it across his mouth and played it slowly.

It’s still the familiar song “Shajiang Yin” from the Northern Desert:

"In the poor autumn, the clouds are flying and the grass is yellow. At the critical moment, the moon is flowing across the river. The lonely rainy night sky is in the wilderness, and the north wind blows the grave into the setting sun."

Just listening to this sandy song from the north, soaked with the light of the flowing moon, trickling into the empty small temple. I don't know if it is an illusion or something. Qingqing looked at the green-faced fangs of the stone statue, and seemed to feel a lot better after listening to the flute music.

.

Gradually, the soft air of the flute music slowed down, and the short, fast notes bounced on Che Xin's fingers. Although Che Xin's hands were not as clean as Ziqin's, nor as slender as Qingqing's, they were chapped and the loose skin was wrinkled.

Together, a few brisk short notes occasionally popped out in the flute air.

As expected, only the leader of Yiyamo could be so comfortable and unobtrusive.

Qingqing thought to herself, and immediately fell into the music. The injuries on her shoulders, palms and back all felt numb and relieved, and even the depression left by the poisoning in her chest felt much better.

This is the healing method mentioned by the old master at night when he returned to the mountain.

Heal!

Qingqing reacted immediately, shook his head suddenly, and took a deep breath of cold air. If Master Chexin used healing as a condition, so that he had to change his name and join the Beimo sect, wouldn't he have committed a crime of cheating his master and betraying the sect?

Felony!

The piccolo was still playing melodiously, and Qingqing stood up suddenly, trying to force himself to escape from the music that he was immersed in. But the sound of the flute was like the quicksand that eats people outside the temple. If you step into it half-footed, there will be no struggle.

room for?

"Ah" shouted, Qingqing grabbed her head with both hands, and her sharp nails scratched a few bloody marks on both sides of her cheeks.

"Shajiang Yin" is like a tranquilizer. Every time he becomes arrogant and restless, the struggle in his heart seems to be suppressed by a pair of invisible big hands, and then slowly suppressed back to calm. Qingqing gradually gasps for breath, and has to close her eyes several times.

Deep in sleep, I woke up with Master’s voice deep in my memory——

"Qing Qing, master is waiting for you at Lirong Mountain..."

With her eyes slightly closed for a moment, Qingqing came back to her senses for an unknown number of times.

Before losing consciousness again, Qingqing dug her nails into her palms and forced herself to calm down for a moment.

What should I do if this melancholy flute sound in the Northern Desert never stops?

I must remember something, something that is shocking. It may be heartbreaking, or the pain may be unbearable, but I must remain calm before the flute that leads to quicksand this month, and I must be forcing myself not to fall into that.

The gentleness of flute music is good.

Qingqing opened her eyes suddenly, and the pain of blood dripping from her fingertips came to mind.

After making up his mind, Qingqing followed the example of the old monk, sat cross-legged, and recited the song "Jiao Pian·Untitled" in his heart:

"I went down from the small building with cups and cups, and the wind and smoke flew all over the deep boat. I went drunk and looked for the fragrance under my red door, and my head was covered with snow under the branches."

In the early morning of that day, I and my master were rowing bamboos and composing songs across thousands of feet of vast pool of water. Above the sparkling water, we could see the hatred in Nan Lin Jiayou’s eyes, the residual blood floating in the clear spirit of his senior sister, and the broken chest of his senior brother Hengshen.

, and the way Master Zishu lifted the brush in his hand, with blood and tears streaming down his pupils.

A heartbreaking pain crawled onto Qingqing's shoulder.

At this moment, Qingqing felt the familiar bursting feeling pouring into her limbs, her fingers bulged, and a raging wave was about to burst out. The clothes on her shoulders were gradually getting wet, and the warm liquid instantly enveloped her entire body.

Che Xin was concentrating on playing the northern flute, but when he raised his eyes, he saw that Qingqing was soaked in sweat, and his shoulders and neck were like a scarlet waterfall, dripping with still warm blood. He quickly stopped playing the flute and understood.

Come here, this child is afraid that the internal power of Bei Mo's magic will enter his body, so he fights with his life to fight with the remaining poison.

In desperation, Chexin took advantage of Qingqing's inability to resist, so she had to seal the Yingxiang point next to her nose to gradually stop the congestion.

When the sky dawned, Qingqing finally couldn't hold on any longer, and when she heard that the sound of the flute had stopped, she fell asleep peacefully. Not long after, the smell of rice came into her mind, but she couldn't restrain herself anymore, and she woke up.

When he raised his eyes, he didn't know when he was lying behind the stone statue in the ruined temple, with a steaming vegetarian meal in front of him.

From playing chess yesterday to listening to music at midnight, Qingqing had not eaten a grain of rice and was already hungry. At this moment, after seeing Master Chexin sitting upright on the stone statue, he made a gesture to ask himself to come forward - he couldn't help but feel a tight string in his heart, for fear of

The old monk in the Northern Desert has some unstoppable ideas.

"Eating will not delay my practice." Qingqing thought to himself, "If I lose the rhythm of Dongshan Qin Shu again, I will naturally not agree even if I risk my life. If I want to go back to the mountain... I still have to do it.

It’s important to fill your stomach first.”

Thinking of this, Qingqing was not polite. He sat under the old monk and picked up the bowl and wolfed it down.

Halfway through the meal, I suddenly remembered that I wanted to run to Yeping Mountain alone without even saying hello to Master. I'm afraid Master and the senior sisters were already anxious on Lirong Mountain at this moment, right? A wave of grievances came to my heart, Qing Qing

Halfway through eating, Qing suddenly choked, held the bowl of soft and white rice, and burst into tears.

There was a "snap" sound, and the hard bones and flesh collided together. Master Chexin scolded softly: "Do it again."

Opposite the master sat a thin young child, raising his hands above his head, having received the beating just now. Under his long and curly eyelashes, there was no sign of crying. He just pursed his lips and thought.

The notes that the piccolo just bounced.

Qingqing stared at the side face of the young man. Although at a glance, he knew that the child with thick eyebrows and big eyes was born in northern Xinjiang, the child's face was clean, with no trace of erosion by the earth and rocks. After thinking for a moment, he saw in front of him

The boy played the fife flute intermittently and played half a staccato sound from his mouth.

Qingqing sighed. There was another "pop" sound, and the monk's piccolo hit the young man's arm hard: "It's still not right."

At this time, the young man's thick black eyebrows were completely knitted into a ball. I don't know whether it was because he was in a hurry to seek medical treatment or for some reason, but the young man turned his head slightly and glanced in the direction of Qing Qing.

Qingqing bent his fingers, groped for a slightly hollow spot on the ground, and tapped twice with his knuckles.

Only two sounds, da and da, were heard, and the tone was exactly the same as the flute sound played by Master Chexin just now.

Chexin smiled and nodded: "Yes." She turned to look at the boy opposite. The boy crossed the bone flute again and exhaled. Although the sound of the flute changed a few tunes in the air, it finally found the melody specified by the master.

It was like this for several days in a row. Qingqing was bored and sat down leaning against the pillar. I don't know how many days passed. Although Chexin no longer tried to put the sound of the flute into Qingqing's mind, he also didn't let Qingqing go.

Close your eyes and destroy the temple, open your eyes and bind Qing Qing here in the yellow sand.

On the other hand, people would bring vegetarian meals twice a day. The person who often came to the temple was a young boy who was a few years younger than Qing Qing. He had thick eyebrows and big eyes, and had a deep look unique to the north.

The strange thing is that this young man is not as frail as ordinary people. Not to mention his ability to practice martial arts, even if he comes here with a lunch box every day, he can still stumble. In addition to delivering some meals, he will also often leave some extra ones.

For an hour, Master Che Xin gave some musical insights.

On the contrary, he was coming and going, and he was used to seeing Qingqing being restrained here. When he was about to leave, he would still smile at Qingqing. Qingqing had never seen such an exotic appearance, and in the next few days, he couldn't help but look at her more.

How many glances did he have.

The young man stood up, bowed to Che Xin, turned around and walked out the door. Qingqing heard the strange footsteps, raised his upper body slightly, and looked back——

He saw the young man standing in front of him, rolling up his sleeves:

"Junior Jimo Xing, thank you heroine for your guidance."

Qingqing was stunned for a moment and didn't realize which one was the "senior" or the "junior" between him and the young man in front of him. Then he stood up and patted the dust on his green robe:

"This junior will establish Rongshan Linghu Qingqing."

When Jimo Xing heard this, he pursed his lips and smiled: "Xing's practice is not simple, and his hearing is not as sensitive as Linghu Heroine. She must be older." Qingqing heard this, but did not want to pay attention to the young man's praise.

.

The young man continued: "I wonder what music skills the heroine practices?"

"Based on the theory of qin music." Qingqing swallowed, "Now I practice flute technique."

Somehow, halfway through speaking, Qingqing felt his heart suddenly jump "bang bang". Although he had been playing the flute for a long time, when he picked up the flute, he still used the "pen array sword" that was the only one left in his childhood.

"Dharma" seems to have nothing to do with the listening skills Ziqin taught him.

After hearing this, Jimo Xing opened his eyes even more, and seemed to want to continue asking. But when he turned around, he saw that Master Chexin was already sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed, so he did not dare to stay and disturb him anymore, so he bowed slightly to Qing Qing.

present:

"Xing is impressed by the heroine's music skills, so I'll come back tomorrow to ask for advice."

Just as he turned to look outside the house, the sky was filled with yellow sand. Suddenly, there was a faint sound of thunder in the sky. At first, the sound gradually became fainter, but then the rolling thunder came closer and closer. In an instant, the sky and the earth were shaking, and in the small temple, dust filled with dust rose again.
Chapter completed!