Chapter 149: The king has a reputation as a poet and a poet
The lights were brightly lit in the Netherworld Alley, and Qing soldiers coming and going were digging through the land, hoping to find the rumored entrance to the underground palace. However, this ancient Song Dynasty alley, which was so chilling and weird, with paper scraps flying around, still made them feel a little bit uneasy in their hearts.
"General General, the hundred troops ahead have not yet found the underground palace. Monk Yankong sent people to the alley to urge the departure. How should my subordinates respond?"
The Eight Banners Army, which was regarded as the elite throughout Jiangnan, now took off its uniform and was sweating profusely in the alleys but in vain - this ridiculous and weird scene made Annan General Dasu frown.
But I saw him turning the brass wrench finger covered with wear marks, and the otter tail on the top of the helmet shook slightly as he made a sound, and the brim of the hat could no longer cover the gray temples.
"Tell that guy Yankong to get away."
Dasu said slowly, but there was no kindness in his words.
"He has been in Fuzhou City for less than ten years, and his notes are as good as snowflakes. If it weren't for the protection of the Holy Emperor, he would have been dismissed from his post. If you don't want me to play a book, just wait outside!"
In front of Yankong, Da Su had the confidence to say this.
The water war in the south of the Yangtze River was not as good as that in the north. The current imperial court was unrivaled in terms of qualifications, ability, and loyalty. He was ordered to go to the south of the Yangtze River to encircle and suppress Zheng Ni. He was already qualified to command the cities and countryside along the way, and naturally included a humble imperial envoy who worked hard but failed.
What's more, Dasu himself knew the great merits of Monk Yankong's trip. How could he find a Han Chinese whose origins were unclear!
As the confidant in front of him got up and went to reply, another confidant walked from the depths of the alley, with confusion and complaints in his tone, and a sinister look on his rough brows.
"General, are the things here so urgent? Can't we wait for the army and civilians to dig them out?"
"Now that the DPRK and China are not stable, the military strength is limited, and the Minister of Revenue, Che Ke, is still trying his best to raise money and food, and build ships to support it. How can we easily change the road and waste money and food?"
Hearing his subordinates' doubts, Dasu was a little angry, but he still patiently consoled him, "Today is no different than in the past. The court's funds are already in short supply, so it is better to spend small amounts of money to do big things."
What Dasu said is true. The Qing government's battle to retake Jiangnan from Zheng Chenggong seemed to be over, but in fact it was just the beginning of everything. Just the reconstruction of the eroded bank defenses and military outposts along the Yangtze River meant that a lot of money was being spent.
No turning back.
What's even more difficult to recover is the people's hearts that are ready to move.
After regaining Jiangnan, Shunzhi began to liquidate all officials and people who surrendered to Zheng Chenggong during this period. They would kill anyone involved in rebellion. In just one month, tens of thousands of people in the Jiangnan area died in the post-war liquidation.
All adult men were killed, and all wives and minor children were exiled into slavery.
Dasu even heard that someone in the DPRK had written a letter suggesting that the sea ban should be strictly enforced and the immigrants should be relocated until Zheng Chenggong was forced to death, starved to death, and chained to death in the vast ocean.
Da Su vaguely noticed that Shunzhi's heart was hardened and could not tolerate any betrayal, no matter what the reason for others' betrayal.
The previous Shunzhi still had favors with Prince Rui Dorgon, and he accepted all those who were willing to submit to him, but this time he did not even allow an explanation, and was not happy to see submission. He killed many people with Jiangnan as the center.
.
In fact, everything had already been revealed. He still remembered that after Dorgon's death, Prince Azige mobilized 300 people and his son to personally transport Dorgon's coffin back to the capital. However, they were suddenly surrounded outside Desheng Gate.
Hundreds of soldiers were killed.
Not to mention, Gang Lin, who later conveyed the news to Emperor Shunzhi, was later beheaded instead of being rewarded. Isn't this the case of murder and silence, and death without any evidence?
Now that Dasu wanted to please Shunzhi, he had to please Shunzhi. When Prince Jingjin Nikan died in Hengzhou, he also led his troops to cruise nearby. Naturally, he knew that Nikan led the army to march at night and day and night.
He exhausted his energy in advance before falling into an ambush and died of exhaustion.
His keen war intuition gave him the ability to learn and reflect. When commanding an army, he should be slow when he is behind, and he should fight steadily along the way and set up camp. If he really wants to be fast, he should rush forward with light cavalry and surprise him.
Dasu sighed slightly in his heart.
He is not young anymore, and if his qualifications become "deeper", it will become a burden, and his abilities will one day no longer be outstanding. The emperor's thoughts are also elusive, and then many things will be difficult to control.
Therefore, today I have no choice but to take five hundred of my followers and ride alone.
One thing he always kept in his heart and dared not say was that the emperor's methods were becoming more and more extreme, and his temper was more and more similar to that of Prince Rui Dorgon...
At this moment, an urgent report woke him up from his wandering thoughts. The voices in the Nether Alley were suddenly extremely noisy, mixed with shouts in Manchu and the sounds of pushing each other. It didn't sound like a battle-hardened elite at all.
.
This made Da Su even more angry. He stepped forward from the entrance of Nether Alley wearing armor and holding a knife and cursed angrily: "What kind of chaos is this? I was scared away by people at the West Lake before, but now I have to scare myself?!"
Then there were bursts of footsteps in the alley, but luckily they weren't the ones running away in a panic as he was worried about.
At this time, it was still late at night, but at sunrise, there was no trace. The men who followed him in the north and south, wearing single clothes stained with mud, were withdrawing from Netherworld Lane in an orderly manner in the chaos, shouting in Manchu
The companions guarding the alley had their armor and weapons ready, as if they were encountering an enemy in a field battle.
There was a flood of people, and the soldiers of the Eight Banners tacitly gave way to Da Su. They began to wear armor without any explanation. A separate adjutant came to report the situation.
"General, there is a murderer who suddenly attacks and hurts people in the alley. His behavior is extremely weird, as if... he is haunted!"
"It's haunted...could it be that ghost-faced man who hides his head and shows his tail?"
There was a suspicious look in Da Su's eyes. The reason why he came here was because of the information provided by someone. If this was a trap, then what he faced would not be good. "Those with complete armor will obey the order. Five people
A team will follow me to investigate!"
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! This Eight Banners team is highly armored. They wear silk collars, neck protectors and ear protectors with patterns embroidered on them.
, and decorated with copper or iron spikes. The armor consists of both a coat and an apron. There are shoulder pads on the shoulders of the armor, armpit protectors under the shoulder pads, and a shiny metal breastplate on the chest and back.
Their years of fighting prowess ensured that they would remain calm when encountering the enemy. With the cooperation of two pairs, they quickly formed six five-man squads, covering each other in a dismounted fighting formation, following closely around Annan General Da Su, and once again stepped forward.
Enter this eerie alley of the underworld.
There were tall trees on both sides of the narrow lane, the green bricks were dug deep here and there, and the moss and wet soil were thrown everywhere. They didn't stop until they saw the turbid muddy water.
Rows of gates cover the sky in front of you, making people's sight appear and disappear, rising and falling. There are also faint harsh sounds coming from the walls on both sides, accompanied by the sounds of their footsteps and the collision of weapons, mixed with each other.
One after another together.
Dasu frowned and said, "Were you frightened by this sound?"
The confidant quickly explained: "The general has misunderstood. This voice has already been investigated by subordinates who originated from a water wheel in the courtyard - the truly bizarre thing is still ahead."
At the end of the view of Netherworld Alley, there is a dilapidated building that has been in decline for a long time. It has firmly blocked the alley, turning it into a dead end.
"General, look at the top."
The subordinate pointed at the shadows that were flickering on the towering remnant wall, and said uneasily, "Is there something vaguely floating..."
The Eight Banners, who had no weapons just now, were all startled. At this time, the excitement had not yet passed. Annan General Da Su also squinted his eyes and said nothing. It took a long time to say a decisive sentence from between his teeth.
"Pretend to be a ghost! Shoot arrows!"
The soldiers of the Eight Banners seemed to have been kicked, and they drew their bows and arrows with great skill. A hail of arrows rushed away, smashing the rubble and rocks on the ruins, and a cloud of dust rolled down.
But as the dust drifted away, two figures, one black and one white, were still erratic on the ruins, so black and so white that they were dazzling, like ghosts lingering in this dark alley, staring at the deep alley beneath their eyes.
The dying person.
What was even more difficult to ignore was the figure slowly standing up on top of the long-dead building.
Da Sushan's eyesight was very good, and he could clearly see something floating in the wind in the hands of the figure.
On the long silk banner with black characters on a white background, it was clearly written: "Kuimen looks forward to your arrival every day, and the people of Baidi think about it after you have passed away. It is as if you have climbed up to the Yellow Pavilion early, and there is always no thought in the rain."
"
Compared with the two figures in black and white, the figure standing on the top of the ruins was too thin. He turned his back to everyone and did not deliberately hide it. He just stood alone with a flag, facing the biting cold wind.
in silence.
The strong wind hit, and the long silk banner with black characters on a white background seemed to be unable to be destroyed. The strands of rags flew away in the wind and turned into pieces of debris. Even the writing on it began to be blurred and hazy in the air, almost
It will disappear.
The theory of ghosts and gods is elusive, but what you see with your own eyes can be truly grasped. As the inexplicable surprise and the panic of the first sight passed, the Eight Banners led by Dasu gradually calmed down and resumed their duties as a warrior who has fought a hundred battles.
mentality.
Surrounded by everyone, Dasu slowly stepped forward and said loudly: "General Annan of the imperial court is here. Who dare you to pretend to be a ghost here? Why don't you get out of the way!!"
"General Annan?"
The figure suddenly turned around, and fragments of the silk on the banner were flying all over the sky, like countless paper money floating in the wind. A black figure and a white figure also floated to the ground, looking at the Qing soldiers with fierce eyes, covered with red bloodshot eyes.
His eyes were lifeless, as if he were looking at a group of dead people.
"So Song Feitian, General Shenwu, is traveling, who dares to stop him?"
Jiang Wen's condescending gaze swept across the audience, looking thoughtfully at the dimly lit Fuzhou City, and sighed slowly.
"Don't want to leave? Then just stay."
…………
Strange movements occurred one after another in Netherworld Alley, and shouts of killing could be heard incessantly. It was not until a group of Eight Banners elites escorted the noble people past in a hurry that anyone reacted in the chaos.
Monk Yankong stood at the entrance of the Nether Alley with his eyebrows raised, turning a blind eye to the soldiers and horses around him. He cast his cold eyes at the entrance of the alley, substantiating his anger at being intercepted and robbed of merit tonight.
The Eight Banners in front of them still refused to give up. Monk Yankong waved the wide sleeves of his monk's robe to push away the crowd, then smashed his head into pieces and broke into the Nether Alley.
He found that the Eight Banners in full armor were falling along the high wall of Netherworld Alley, with their heads hanging slightly and leaning against the corner.
There were no obvious wounds on these Eight Banners. They seemed to be kneeling by the road without saying a word. There was only a pool of blood that gradually faded and became larger and larger, forming a bright red stream and flowing to the entrance of the alley.
Monk Yankong's pupils suddenly narrowed because he saw a familiar person.
The two people looked at each other from a distance of less than ten feet. Countless people passed by them, trying to avoid them as if they were seeing a savage beast. However, the two people's footsteps did not move at all, and they did not even blink their eyes.
"If you don't practice, Master, Jiang will not be able to welcome you again after a long absence. I hope you can forgive me."
As soon as Jiang Wen finished speaking, Monk Yankong burst into laughter.
"I knew I would meet you a long time ago, but I didn't expect to meet here. Fuzhou City is in danger tonight, and you actually dare to come and die!"
There was a hint of surprise in Jiang Wen's tone.
"Sure enough, you know something. The city of Fuzhou is turbulent, and the forces are intertwined. I originally planned to clear the chessboard and find someone to settle the score, but now it seems that you are a 'pawn across the river' who is unable to retreat.
ah."
The dusty wind gradually picked up, the sound of horse hooves sounded, and both of them started to move in the electric light and flint.
Jiang Wen suddenly jumped up high and dodged Monk Yankong's extremely powerful Vajra Palm, leaving only a deep palm print on the wall behind him.
Jiang Wen, who had just killed seventy-six Qing soldiers with his sword, had already exhausted most of his internal energy and was unable to maintain his peak condition. Therefore, he chose not to sharpen his edge and look for opportunities to retreat instead of advance.
However, Monk Yankong's moves became more and more powerful, and the powerful Vajra Finger and Vajra Prajna Palm were also shrouded in clouds and mist, penetrating everywhere. Only the shadows of the fingertips and palms were densely covered within three feet of the body, and even his subordinates could not get close.
"Is this all you have?"
Monk Yankong roared angrily, "They are just as useless as the Fuwei Escort Agency. They deserve to be tricked out of the city and killed!"
Jiang Wen remained unmoved and swung his sword to block one after another, and his moves were as smooth as clouds and flowing water. The two of them saw each other in the alley, and their moves were so subtle and quick that even martial arts masters who have practiced sets of moves for many years may not be able to compare.
"Master, you are ridiculous. Sneaking the escorts from the Fuwei Escort Agency out of the city is certainly a way to seek death, but isn't it the same for you to send people to rob and kill them?"
Regarding Monk Yankong's heart-wrenching words, Jiang Wen just smiled faintly and said, "I would like to ask, Master has sent so many people under his command, how many of them have come back to report to you?"
The Chang brothers were still lurking in the dark and staying put. They stayed awake for three days and three nights. It was not as simple as insomnia.
This big chess game is a battle of life and death. Both the Black and White Peaks think they have a chance to win, but once they fall into the "two calamities cycle" situation, no one can even think of winning without draining the last bit of life from both sides.
Lose. The person who can win in the end will only be the third player who suddenly appears...
Although the strength of the two people is limited, it is not difficult to rob and kill Monk Yankong's men in reverse. I dare not say 100%, but it will be easy to complete nine out of ten times.
Monk Yankong frowned and stepped forward without hesitation with his palms. He did not care about the lives of his men at all. Jiang Wen suddenly stretched out his left palm and drew a circle on his chest with a simple movement.
He pushed it out with a roar.
The Vajra Prajna Palm struck like the sky collapsing and the earth collapsed, while Jiang Wen raised his palm like an overlord lifting a cauldron, and advanced like a giant pushing a mountain. Their palms came together and then separated. Jiang Wen and Yankong were both affected by this violent force.
He retreated with great rebounding force, and did not stop his retreat until his back hit the alley wall. The wall visibly shook for a while, and dust rolled down into the sky.
"I really admire that Jiang can still have such inner strength without quitting the master's good kung fu, drinking alcohol, eating meat every day, and lingering with women. It's not convenient to use it here, so we might as well change the place and fight again!"
Jiang Wen smiled indifferently, jumped up and walked diagonally across the wall without leaving a trace. Monk Yankong's eyes were filled with murderous intent, and he kicked the wall to use his strength to fly up, chasing after him.
Jiang Wen.
Not far outside Netherworld Alley is a rolling river in the city. From a distance, you can see that the water in the river is rising and the turbid waves are undulating. It has poured back into and submerged many farmlands. The Baima River was originally used to decompose and dredge external floods.
At that time, it became the source of the flood.
The eye of the secluded spring under Fuzhou City has appeared, and the murderous spring in the mouth of Huang Ji, the protector of Hongyang, is now ready to emerge.
The two of them chased each other and stood by the river. Jiang Wen was also surrounded by Monk Yankong and his men, but his expression remained indifferent.
Monk Yankong threw off his monk's clothes, revealing his steel-like muscles in the cold night. His palms were empty in front and solid in front, then solid in front and empty in back, which was dazzling. Then he raised his palms while crossing his crotch protectors, like drawing a bow to gain momentum.
He struck out with a palm close to his body.
The twelve successful powers of the Vajra Prajna Palm appeared. Jiang Wen did not dare to take a careless step forward. He waved his palms up and waved both palms on the same side upwards. The force seemed to welcome but not to meet, seemed to block but not block, and it was as straight as a ride.
The six dragons control the sky, and the six yangs are born from the void pole. Their posture also changes from contraction to expansion, and they attack in three directions: head, body and tail.
When the strong dragon suppressed the realm, the four fields were divided and the five lakes were in chaos. Jiang Wen just held the reins like an extremely skilled charioteer. When the battle came together, he opened his palms, fists, and elbows to forcibly control this power that no one could resist.
Stopped the situation from falling apart.
Seeing the subtle situation, Monk Yankong's men desperately wanted to attack. They thought it was a pot of calm cold water, but they didn't know that the power of the fight was as strong as a cup of boiling water overflowing.
A slight shake can cause burns.
As soon as the man with the hideous scar on his face touched him, he was violently ejected more than ten feet away by the force of the two men's fight, and his mouth almost filled with blood.
But despite being so seriously injured, the man was still able to stand up staggeringly, with many black writings showing on his torn open chest. Then he snatched back a sharp knife with fierce eyes and quickly stepped forward to snatch it away.
.
Jiang Wen was not polite, and during the fierce exchange of firecrackers, he flew up and kicked him into the rolling waves, which was instantly swallowed up. The others were horrified and did not dare to step forward.
"Unfortunately, master, your internal strength cannot be achieved overnight. You must have stayed in the Shaolin Temple for a long time. Don't you have any compassion?"
After Monk Yankong heard this, he suddenly looked up to the sky and laughed as if he had heard something funny.
"Hahaha, ridiculous! The earth has no boundaries and the heavens are lawless. I don't need that extremely hypocritical false compassion. I can only be the true Buddha in charge of the lives of millions of people!"
Then the evil image on Monk Yankong's face recovered, "I let you go because I wanted to recruit you, but today it seems that you are stubborn, so go and die!"
Monk Yankong didn't pay any attention to the dangerous situation where ordinary people would die if he touched it. The martial arts passed down from the Vajra Sect in the Western Regions was powerful and fearless. It swallowed up all the power like a whale and crushed countless bricks and stones when it landed.
"Master, if you don't practice, do you know a method of self-sacrifice and a martial art that becomes more powerful the more you study it?"
Jiang Wen's gaze was impartial, but it fell solely on his ankle that was bitten by a small stone.
The gauze that tightly wrapped the wound had burst, revealing a deep wound that had not healed or scabbed at all. Even the blood had a strange dark color and looked extremely strange.
Monk Yankong's eyes were murderous, but Jiang Wen clearly saw wisps of black energy entwining in his eyes, wandering around the pupils, which seemed to be one with the cold aura of Monk Yankong.
Jiang Wen had already seen the whole thing at a glance, and saw from it the indelible mark of Southern Shaolin's secret dragon-shaped fist, which maintained a strange symbiotic relationship with the body named Yankong, neither increasing nor decreasing, neither dirty nor clean.
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This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! A trace of struggle flashed in Monk Yankong's eyes, and he seemed to have noticed something was wrong with his state. The secret Dragon-shaped Fist, which originally only broke out at the critical moment of life and death, was quietly revealed.
Aroused by consciousness, it invaded into his own will...
The opponent is scheming against me and uses the dragon-shaped fist!
"To be honest, my martial arts qualifications are mediocre, and my external skills are extensive but not refined. The way I use them is just to make people laugh. It's really not as good as your operation. I have to use some small tricks as a last resort."
Jiang Wen stood with his hands behind his hands, his attitude was very humble.
But when Monk Yankong listened to the other party's words, he only felt that the other party was speaking sarcastically. The twisted secret dragon-shaped fist in his body could no longer be restrained, and turned into a weird posture of twisting tendons and misaligning bones. The Vajra Prajna Master once
As soon as you take action, there will be waves of fishy wind!
But when Jiang Wen smiled slightly, he took a step back and distanced himself without revealing any trace: "However, this martial art has been entangled with my second disciple for a long time. I have devoted myself to his situation, and over time I have naturally come to understand it."
Jiang Wen put on a martial arts posture that was different from that of Monk Yankong. His hands looked like palms but not palms, and they looked like a long dragon diving into the abyss or a swimming dragon exploring its claws. It seemed like a martial arts that was similar to the Eighteen Palms of Subduing the Dragon.
This time the two strong men met, Jiang Wen's fist palm was like a misty rain, disturbing the breeze, and he easily blocked Monk Yankong's extremely violent secret dragon-shaped fist. But if you look closely, you can see that the moves used by the two are exactly the same.
Can distinguish differences in some minor details.
With every punch and every kick, the two of them were entangled with all their strength. Monk Yankong's men were even suddenly dazzled. They could no longer see the two figures in front of them, but they could only see two black dragons entangled by the river.
Fighting, the rivers pour down with mud and sand, and they don’t recognize anything else!
When the two of them fought, it was Monk Yankong who took the lead in making the move. Jiang Wen followed up with the same move with the slightest difference. However, it happened that such small details kept accumulating, and it became Jiang Wen's decision to strike from behind and suppress him with all his strength.
Live the secret dragon-shaped boxing of Southern Shaolin that once made people laugh!
"Fortunately, I am proficient in small formless skills. All martial arts in the world can get their meaning and forget their form. Since ancient times, the formlessness is magical, while the small form is pure and empty. It has no form and no trace to be found. Only after it can be traced can it become better than the blue."
Before he finished speaking, Jiang Wen also blasted out the biting wind between his palms. It was no longer as majestic and upright as the branches and leaves of the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms before. Every move and every move was filled with a ferocious aura that would kill powerful enemies and defeat the powerful crossbow.
.
"Therefore, I have the courage to integrate the Tianshan Plum Blossom Hand into the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, rely on the Small Wuxiang Kung Fu to reach its peak, and simulate a unique martial art in the world that is specialized in restraining the secret dragon-shaped fist. Please give me your advice!
"
The secret dragon-shaped fist can rely on fighting, absorbing the essence of the opponent's martial arts, innovating, and deducing it on its own until it is far stronger than the opponent.
.
Jiang Wen has always had a headache because of the characteristics of this martial art. He cannot be beaten or scolded, so he can only suppress it with the help of methods such as pure heart and universal kindness. But if the opponent is not Hong Wending, then with his superior views on martial arts, he would have thought of it long ago.
A method that can be called fighting fire with fire.
The secret dragon-shaped fist has form but no quality. It will derive completely different characteristics depending on the host. But the weakness is here after all. Using the long to attack the short and winning with surprise is the way of the ever-changing yin and yang.
, no matter how fast the dragon-shaped fist grows, it cannot overcome the current situation where the innate being is targeted.
The Tianshan Plum Blossom Hand can imitate the world's unarmed martial arts. At every moment, he is absorbing the essence of Monk Yankong's Dragon-shaped Fist and imitating his killing moves that have been tempered for thousands of times. The Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms are the most powerful and powerful.
The pinnacle of martial arts in the outside world has been trained to the point where hardness and softness are at will, and strength and softness are blended into one. Finally, when activated by the incomparable miraculous Little Phaseless Kung Fu, it is like being thrown into a hot furnace, and the brilliance of the sword and divine weapon is restored.
It can’t be covered up either!
The combination of these martial arts requires extremely high internal energy, but I have to admit that Jiang Wen has relied on the vast collection of martial arts to find a way to overpower the secret Dragon-shaped Fist!
Jiang Wen stopped talking. He had already seen the turbulent waves rising in the spiritual platform where Monk Yankong had not yet been annihilated.
The Vajra Prajna Palm and the Powerful Vajra Finger are his special skills, and the secret dragon-shaped fist is a nightmare that he can't get rid of in this life. Countless enemies have been defeated by this martial art that gets stronger with each battle.
But now this invincible martial arts pales in comparison to the martial arts that Jiang Wenxin has mastered. Even if he tries his best to imitate and learn the opponent's martial arts moves, he is still far behind the subtle and quick changes of the other party. Jiang Wen's martial arts are far from perfect.
It was in front and suddenly behind, and it actually reached the point where even the secret dragon-shaped fist was extremely difficult and had nowhere to start, suppressing the secret dragon-shaped fist forever!
"As a master, of course he is better than his apprentice in every aspect..."
Jiang Wen mobilized 10% of his inner strength. He knew that this martial art was indeed invincible, but like the secret dragon-shaped fist, it had great flaws.
First of all, the process of imitation always starts from scratch, and once the person is replaced, there will be no such clear pertinence; secondly, it consumes too much internal energy, and using the three martial arts together will almost drain his already insufficient internal energy; finally, there is still
You must have an understanding beyond ordinary people to be able to imitate and improve in the slightest, and be better than your master!
But Monk Yankong didn't know that Jiang Wen had clearly seen the black energy in the other person's eyes growing, surging, and filling. Finally, the whole person's reason was expelled and transformed into an unconscious humanoid murder weapon!
Yankong's whole body was trembling violently, and a large amount of sweat fell from his steel-like body. His bones were broken and broken in the battle that exceeded the limit, and they were constantly twisted and broken, and they were barely glued together by the muscles.
His consciousness fell into chaos, the light in front of him gradually dimmed, and the faith that usually relied on wine, sex, and wealth fell apart. He fell into a bottomless abyss as if the ground he stood on collapsed, and fell into an endless darkness.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! His chaotic will is still disintegrating, leaving only a weak voice hovering in his ears.
Yankong...
Yankong...
Monk Yankong tried to open his eyes in confusion, but his eyelids were as heavy as a huge boulder and remained motionless no matter how hard he tried. So he could only listen with his ears raised, trying to discern what the other person was saying.
Yankong!
Yankong!
The frequent calls have not stopped yet, Yankong's heart is filled with rage, and finally in order to gain some sober strength, he tries his best to let out a cry, hoping to make the other party stop shouting quickly.
Yankong!!
Yankong!!
He just wanted to lie peacefully in the darkness until he was silent forever.
Yankong struggled to use powerful martial arts, but his body was weak and weak, involuntarily, as if he had turned into a fragile child.
A wave of fear suddenly surged into his heart, and after the excitement, another wave of thoughts began to loosen.
I see.
There was always only one call to him, but he repeated it tens of thousands of times in his heart, turning it into a sound that echoed from the bottom of his heart to the sky.
In fact, that sentence is very short.
【Yan Kong!! Run quickly and don’t look back!! Keep running and you will survive!!】
The wooden figure alley in Southern Shaolin was filled with blood mist. No one knew why in that late night. All the Shaolin disciples who had practiced the secret dragon-shaped fist presented by the Supreme Master, both monks and laymen, were entangled by some kind of voice and came here.
Here, they began to brutally kill each other.
The senior brothers who were originally as close as a family no longer care about the friendship. The dead moves that were forbidden during daily sparring, the dirty tricks learned by traveling in the world, and the tricks that should be used when encountering enemies are all naturally displayed at this time.
Eyes, kicks in the crotch, acupuncture points, and ribs.
The narrow wooden alley turned into a box for refining poison, and an indescribable voice sounded in their heads in no particular order, tempting them to continue fighting and fighting until the person who survived in the end...
Horrible memories exploded in Yankong's mind. Similar scenes made him wrench in pain as soon as he thought about it, and his brain material almost flowed out of his ear holes.
Yes, it was like this now. He just wanted this kind of martial arts. He used the martial arts he had learned from his masters in daily life, killing the new disciples one by one. He only felt a strong fire growing in his body, almost
Want to start a prairie fire!
There are more and more scars on his body, and the unfamiliar killing intent is getting stronger and stronger. Even the breath he exerts with all his strength and the hard beating heart want to be turned into killing moves.
But his killing finally stopped. A familiar figure stood in front of him, knocking him down easily, and also destroyed the surging flames in his body.
The bewitching voice was still echoing. He closed his eyes and waited for death. This was the rule in Wooden Lane tonight. Losers had no use except death. But the pain he expected never appeared. Instead, it was the voice of his friend Monk Haizhi.
Got up.
The other party's voice was also full of pain, and his hands were covered in blood.
【Yan Kong!! Run quickly and don’t look back!! Keep running and you will survive!!】
The sound only lasted for less than a few breaths, but Yankong seemed to have experienced the birth and death of countless worlds. He suddenly woke up from the chaos and began to run back desperately, and the bewitching sounds in his ears became increasingly louder and louder.
weak.
The exit of Wooden Man Lane is just a few steps ahead. Everything tonight may be just a crazy nightmare. After waking up, everything may be back to before!
Just as he was thinking this, the bewitching voice in his ears suddenly grew stronger, whispering to him to look back and see that all this was false and he was about to wake up from the dream.
So Yankong subconsciously looked back...
At this moment, the world is broken like water, and the world is like a halo. There is only a figure sitting cross-legged and slightly raising its head, as if to ask why the world is so stubborn and how to get rid of it.
He is indescribable. He is as big as space and suddenly becomes smaller.
He may take one body and make hundreds of thousands of bodies, or may merge into one body.
He may be on this shore, then he may be on the other shore, and suddenly he may be in the middle again.
He may walk on land as if walking on water, or walk on water as if walking on flat ground.
He cut open his belly, took out something, and threw it into the world like a discarded chicken, leaving only a sky filled with crazy mountains, terrifying seas, and waves of blood.
Then, he glanced at Yankong.
With just one glance, Yankong's brain died at that moment.
From then on, the words of Monk Haizhi that lingered in his mind became the only thing he remembered. As he staggered out of the Wooden Man Lane, escaped from the Shaolin Temple and walked into the deserted mountains,
It exists in an incredible state, seemingly dead but not dead.
Monk Yankong died, and Monk Yankong lived again.
Jiang Wen suddenly stopped. The exhaustion of his inner energy made him gasp violently. The reason why he stopped was that the crazy monk Yankong in front of him suddenly became torn to pieces.
The limit comes unexpectedly, but it is natural.
Countless scars emerged from Monk Yankong's body, as if someone had cut his body with a sharp knife as fast as lightning. The texture of the rotten muscles was turbid, and the stench of decayed blood was unpleasant. Along with a yellowish turbid wave that hit the shore,
He was suddenly swept into the rolling waves of the White Horse River behind him.
At the moment when he finally disappeared, Monk Yankong seemed to show a weird smile because of the extreme pain, and stretched out his hands desperately to grab it, as if there was an invisible treasure right in front of him.
But his struggle was like this thick night that swallowed up all traces of existence in an instant, completely and strictly involving him in the undercurrent, never to be seen again.
At this moment, roars came from the Baima River, and countless figures, either phantom or real, suddenly appeared, entangled with Monk Yankong's men who looked horrifying and ferocious, and even danced wildly and strangled themselves one after another.
Throat, suddenly suffocated to death.
Jiang Wen turned around, and a mysterious figure had wriggled out of the shadows. His facial features were upside down, and the mask of inexplicable horror had been taken off, revealing a picture of twisted blood vessels and muscles, flexed muscles, and no hair on the facial features.
The terrifying face that you can’t even see!
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! "You are not hurt at all?"
The other party's voice was filled with surprise, and he couldn't tell the difference between male and female. Jiang Wen now knew that it was because the other party's throat had been crushed long ago, and his face had been intentionally scratched and torn. A great resentment was expressed on him.
This made Jiang Wen vaguely aware that it was the work of Hongyang Holy Child.
"Prefect Ling, you are fine."
Jiang Wen gasped. The other party must have seen the end of his strength and chose to show up at this time.
The location of Magistrate Ling means the twisted invasion of the Haoli Ghost Kingdom, and it also means that some of the struggling dead are about to resurrect. Just like what he saw before, countless ghosts entangle their former enemies, torturing and abusing them.
Till death.
As for the method of killing and injuring, Jiang Wen himself has no interest in knowing it, let alone learning it. The shortcoming of the people who created and spread this method is that they are too soft-hearted. Sometimes they know that it will bring regrettable consequences, but they still act emotionally.
Mistake.
Jiang Wen has realized that the secret of this evil magic lies in the Mani Orb. And there is an indescribable and deep connection between the Mani Orb and Haoli Ghost Country.
As the ghost-faced man approached step by step, Jiang Wen tried his best to adjust his inner breath that had been depleted by repeated fierce battles. The rolling river water behind the ghost-faced man came one after another, and the dark and unidentified substances in the eyes of the Youquanhai were spewing out from the invisible underground, causing pollution.
Distorting this land.
The old and aging city of Fuzhou is lingering in the long night, like a dying old man with his mouth wide open, making a dull and mechanical breathing sound, together with tens of thousands of people sleeping with their eyes open between the three mountains and two towers, quietly listening to the waves.
The crazy pulse, coupled with the deafening violent heartbeat, is about to usher in another invisible doomsday.
They almost get used to it.
In August of the twelfth year of Shunzhi (1655), the Qing government ordered Jidu, Prince Zheng's son, to go to Fuzhou and mobilize troops to attack Zheng Chenggong's army. In September of that year, 30,000 Han troops were stationed in Fuzhou and soon headed for Zhangzhou.
When the army set out, Jidu wrote proudly to report what he had seen during his trip: Outside the city of Fuzhou, it is impregnable, but inside there are people who are at peace with each other, and there is no fear of rebellion. It is the best place in Fujian.
The city of Fuzhou, which has been sleepless for a long time, is now once again facing the night of military violence. Many things have emerged one after another. In the gaps that have not yet had time to leave traces in the history, there are scenes that are overwhelming and difficult to hold on with one hand.
In those years, the gates of Fuzhou City were locked, and the people and horses were silent. Under the city gates, there were some figures standing alone, some hanging in a hurry, some majestic, or some despairing. No one has ever seen them from here again.
Return inside the city gate.
The sound of dripping is difficult, and the long night is dim and difficult to cross, but there are people who have been watching the city gate like this for more than ten years. While waiting, they are still alive with the last trace of fantasy in their hearts, looking forward to following Huang Daozhou generously out of the city.
A good man can still return in triumph with his horse as they promised.
They say that they have to die to protect their country, but death will kill their ears. Those who are waiting should not worry about it, but must take their share and live together.
The green blood hidden in the dark forest at night, splashed in the dust in the sky, and solidified in the most inconspicuous place, has long been covered with frost and dust, so that even those who still remember the past can't help but feel blurred when wandering in the clouds and smoke of the past.
Get up——
Is everything always like this, and what is it that makes me toss and turn over it?
There are so many such people that ordinary alleys can be found everywhere. Every day, all living beings wander around this ancient city in silence with their heads lowered. Huang Ji, who is among them, also lowers his head and remains silent, but his reasons are different.
His Kanyu technique was learned from Jiang Ke, the master of Xuankong of the Sanyuan Sect, and was highly praised by the Kanyu masters of Sanyuan Xuankong Feixing and Xuankong Sixty-Four Hexagrams in later generations.
When Jiang Ke was alive, he tried hard to refute the fallacies in the geography books that were circulated in the world at that time. He also treated the three dharma with extreme contempt, and his harsh words even caused him to be slandered. He was very obscure about his own secret dharma and did not pass it on secretly.
, he also mentioned the Three Mountains and Huangquan Evil in his letter to his disciple Huang Ji, but he still refused to explain the root cause clearly.
To this day, Huang Ji has understood the intention of his mentor, and the "Biography of Huating County" of later generations may also know it, so it contains an obscure sentence: "In the third year of Shunzhi in the Qing Dynasty (i.e. 1646), the Qing soldiers captured Fuzhou and killed
Zhu Yujian, king of the Ming and Tang Dynasties, and Jiang Ke, who was also in the city at this time, pretended to be a monk and fled, so he traveled around Qilu and Taishan Mountains using the art of Kanyu."
The squirming figure rose from the shadows again, and handed an old and tattered banner into Jiang Wen's hands. The black characters on the white background floating in the wind were mottled and blurred, and the remaining silk threads were like paper money floating away, disappearing little by little.
In the air, it was like the silent funeral ceremony hundreds of years ago.
The traces of hard work in the reincarnation of history are almost disappearing. Jiang Wen is still sweating profusely, and his true energy is wandering around on the verge of going berserk. Two figures, one person and one ghost, are holding on to the flagpole and are silent in the face of the roaring waves.
Silent.
In response to this scene, the terrifying face of the ghost-faced man Qu Chipan couldn't help but reveal a bright smile, but his hateful eyes never stopped looking at the blurry Huang Ji.
"I waited for you all night outside the West Lake Ancient Temple. I didn't expect that you would be stupid enough to come to Netherworld Alley and throw yourself into a trap. It seems that I really overestimated you."
The ghost-faced man laughed like a night owl, and the ominous aura hovered all over the sky. There will never be peace. And at the bottom of the deep Baima River, a huge swamp has formed, which can swallow up this city of eternal night before dawn at any time.
It was completely involved in the ghost country where there were dense wormwood and surging underworld.
Jiang Wen looked at the turbulent Baima River, and seemed to see some terrifying and evil snake-like creatures, holding their heads high and spitting out messages, standing in the eternal abyss where the sun could not be seen. From the haunted dark river
Stick your head out.
"I saw the so-called Huanglong of Min Huizong today..."
Jiang Wen slowly straightened his chest and back, looked at the terrifying appearance of Magistrate Ling, and said the words he had been preparing for a long time.
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! "Prefect Ling, you have worked very hard to have Fuzhou City bury you. The Imperial Palace in the ancient temple in the center of the lake, the Yinquan Temple at the bottom of the Minjiang River, and the ancient tombs
The Mani Orb in there and all the weird things among the three mountains and two towers have all become part of your conspiracy."
The expression on Magistrate Ling's humanoid face was ferocious. The extreme pain and the pleasure of revenge corroded his heart, making his voice mixed with joy, anger, sorrow and joy, and his voice was so distorted that he could not control himself.
"The person who betrayed me is still alive, and I came here to collect debts! As long as Hecheng falls into the Haoli ghost kingdom, everyone will suffer day and night, whether it is Huang Ji, Hongyang Holy Child, Ni
Girl, the remnant of the Ding family, you are such a nosy guy, no one can escape!"
Not only the Baima River, but every inland river between the three mountains and two towers in Fuzhou City tonight, every spring is filled with turbid and smelly waves, accompanied by the sinister smiles of countless ghosts who have never seen each other again, gradually pulling Fuzhou City into chaos.
Entering into a desperate situation where the world is overturned.
In the river, these indescribable beings are higher than humans can estimate. They permanently guard the terrifying deep valleys of Haoli Ghost Country - and in those deep valleys, countless giant worms are slowly wriggling, filthy
They burrow underground and crawl through the fragmented space. The so-called turbid spring is just the yellow and sticky front end of their bodies.
Jiang Wen didn't pay attention to the strange phenomena around him, and just took off the white jade snake-cutting sword of Emperor Gaozu of the Han Dynasty that had been on his back for a long time.
"The fact that the Mani Orb can suppress the Haoli Ghost Kingdom must be a lie you made up. Master Hulu's so-called suppression is just to place the Mani Orb on the central boundary line that maintains the whole city and take advantage of the joys, sorrows and joys of countless people in the city.
, joys and sorrows to make a wish to prevent the reversal and realize this almost impossible wish."
Jiang Wen looked at Magistrate Ling who was stunned on the spot and continued, "The reason why people who have been radiated by the Mani Orb can survive serious injuries is based on the same principle as the art of killing and reviving injuries. They form an obsession by facing the fear of death.
If every cell in the body screams that it does not want to die, the person can continue to live in a mysterious and unpredictable way for a period of time."
"Nowadays, the city's thoughts are still unknown. Rushing to throw the Mani orb into the emperor's statue in the ancient temple in the middle of the lake will probably only arouse the obsession of Min Huizong that failed thousands of years ago and destroy the city of Fuzhou.
Continuing to offer sacrifices became the Yinquan Palace in his heart that was held high in the Nine Heavens."
Magistrate Ling said calmly.
"It's too late now. Even if you guessed my plan, you won't have another chance to make a comeback at this time. In less than a quarter of an hour, Xi Guang will never appear again!"
Jiang Wen slowly raised his sword, and the banner with black characters on a white background was shattered into pieces, leaving only the last trace in the world.
"This flag has been hidden for hundreds of years, and I never thought that I would be able to see the remnants of the long night after the end of the Song Dynasty. Since I brought it out today, I must let it see the light of day before it dissipates and collapses.
"
"The life and death of this city has never been in my hands. How everything will end is left to the instigator to decide."
When Magistrate Ling heard these words, his color changed suddenly, and he wanted to catch Huang Ji strangely, because he knew that Jiang Wen had guessed the truth.
But Jiang Wen just flicked his fingers and popped out a dim round stone that was hot when pinched, turning into a straight line and grazing Magistrate Ling's body and throwing it into the water.
At this time, huge waves arose in the Baima River. One wave after another rushed to the shore, seeming to involve everyone in it. The huge waves turned into strange shapes and also undulated, seeming to be struggling painfully.
.
"Sure enough, Haoli Ghost Country doesn't want to engulf Fuzhou City at all! The result of the flip is that both sides will die!"
Before he finished speaking, there was a sudden flash of sword light. Magistrate Ling suddenly felt the long-lost pain and numbness. His body hidden in the shadows could not move, and he suddenly lost the familiar support. His hand was tightly covering his throat, but the gurgling blood was already flowing along it.
There was blood dripping from the fingertips, and all he could do was make weird screams from his mouth.
"Don't you really want to live?"
Jiang Wen came close to him again in an instant, swung his sword and chopped off his big head into the air, "The Mani Orb proves that you really want to live, then you can die again as a living person in an instant.
!”
The extremely fierce swordsmanship had exhausted Jiang Wen's strength, but he just pushed lightly, and the headless body fell into the turbid yellow river with a plop.
"Go to Huang Ji. The Haoli Ghost Country was brought here by Ling Zhifu, who returned to the sun. Now only you, who is also from the Haoli Ghost Country, can bring it back to its original place."
Jiang Wen looked pale and sighed helplessly, "In just a few years, there were underworld, and Hecheng fell into the netherworld. For thousands of years, Fuzhou City was extremely peaceful, but it was almost led to death by a few people with ulterior motives."
Huang Ji, who was wearing black clothes and a white hat, looked at the rolling river water with a look of fear on his face.
"Taoist Priest, are you sure I can really do it? Does the quiet spring sea eye in the West Lake really need to be suppressed?"
Jiang Wen stared at the dark night sky, trying to find a sign of dawn in the infinite darkness, and spoke in a low voice in a low voice.
"I've already done my best for the trouble you caused. And don't worry, I saw it clearly when I was practicing water control iron rhinoceros by the West Lake. Youquan Haiyan will be fine."
Huang Ji glanced at him timidly and continued to ask doubtfully: "Why are you so sure?"
Jiang Wen sighed quietly, whispered the last words, and pushed Huang Ji into the rolling waves. He watched the originally crazy Baima River gradually calm down, as if something was quietly moving away.
…………
The change seemed to take place only in an instant, and the sound of waves and shouts of death became part of the vague memory.
A new night of rain has washed away the smoke and dust all over the city, and the green willows are also blowing. The dazzling light among the leaves comes from the dewdrops, and the bright color of the dewdrops comes from the rising sun in the sky.
The mist and rain rose so suddenly, like the last traces of a nightmare turning into mist in the breeze, shrouding the front porches of thousands of households. However, the drizzle could not stop the footsteps of pedestrians at all, and the smoke from cooking smoke rose up from the streets.
Door panels slowly moved among the three lanes and seven alleys, and the voices of soft conversations were heard. Thousands of households breathed a sigh of relief in this gentle and quiet rain scene. It seemed that all the unhappiness in the past had quietly dissipated, and life would still be confused.
Continue knowingly.
And on the empty street where no one was paying attention, a figure with a sword on his back and staggering steps was slowly walking away.