Zhao Yue scratched his head, always feeling that something was wrong, but his head was made of elm wood, so naturally he couldn't think of anything, so he made an indignant "poof" and flew to the kitchen.
I was going to eat the remaining half of the fried chicken to prepare for the big battle in half an hour.
In the room, Xue Ming held on to the window frame and quietly watched Zhao Yue's retreating back. A trace of blood snaked like a stream and slowly spread out from the corner of his mouth. He pulled off the handkerchief and wiped it away.
The blood was bright red, "Oh, Zhao Yue, I must win this match today!"
[The lady is coming]
The pines are covered with snow, the mountains are dyed white, and in a world of ice, snow and glazed glass, Zhao Yue and Xue Ming face each other with swords, and the quiet air is filled with an imminent murderous aura.
"Xiao Bai, we have known each other for eleven years. Although you have a weird temper and hold grudges, you are still a person who values love and justice. What happened now? But that little vixen caught you and threatened you.
Did you marry her?" Just now, Zhao Yue chewed two chicken bones and suddenly realized that Xue Ming had been in love with his junior sister for many years, and his behavior this time was really unreasonable.
"Zhao Yue, don't say anything! You disturbed the flowers and candles in my bridal chamber. If I spare you lightly, wouldn't I be sorry to my new bride?" With that, Xue Ming shook his long sword and went straight to Zhao.
Yue's heart was stabbed.
Zhao Yue quickly focused his attention and raised his sword, "When--" The slight sound made by the sword blades connecting was like a ghost whisper, echoing faintly among the vast white mountains.
In the twilight shadow, the fluttering corners of the white robe are like a white butterfly dancing gracefully on the snow, elegant but sad.
The sun behind the shadows of heavy clouds slowly gathered the last trace of warmth, and the sky seemed to be stained with thick ink, giving off a hint of gloom. After a while, one, two, and white snowflakes appeared.
Like the flying catkins of late spring, they fell quietly on the shoulders of the two men who were fighting fiercely.
Gradually, gradually, the blossoming snowflakes seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, pressing on the wings of the white jade butterfly, restraining his light and airy posture.
Zhao Yue was overjoyed and struck Xue Min directly in the heart with his sword. Hum, the little vixen's method of picking up Yang and tonifying Yin is really powerful. It must have exhausted him! He looked like he was exhausted just now!
Xue Min stepped lightly and stepped aside, but the weakness in his body still made his movements slow down. The sudden pain in his left shoulder made his left hand holding the sword tremble, and he almost lost his grip on the hilt.
Zhao Yue sheathed his sword coldly, and a drop of bright red blood rolled from the tip of the sword into the white snow. A beautiful red plum seemed to suddenly bloom on the white snow.
In the past eleven years, he has had countless sweet dreams about defeating Xue Ming. In the dream, Xue Ming was crawling at his feet covered in blood, begging for mercy pitifully, while he laughed happily and happily. Every time he would
Wake up from this dream with a smile.
But now, he had really defeated Xue Min, but his heart was not as excited and happy as expected. The strands of sadness were like tangled threads, tightly binding his heart, making him feel a little overwhelmed.
Angry, he glanced at the red snow indifferently and said calmly: "Xiao Bai, I will win the 362nd game."
Xue Ming didn't seem to care about the outcome, "Zhao Yue, you are always a little reckless and can't hold back your words. I didn't want you to know..."
His meaningless words made Zhao Yue very puzzled. Zhao Yue scratched his head, always feeling that something was wrong, but his head was made of elm wood, so naturally he couldn't think of anything, so,
He let out an indignant "poof" and flew to the kitchen, ready to eat the remaining half of the fried chicken in order to cope with the big battle in half an hour.
In the room, Xue Ming held on to the window frame and quietly watched Zhao Yue's retreating back. A trace of blood snaked like a stream and slowly spread out from the corner of his mouth. He pulled off the handkerchief and wiped it away.
The blood was bright red, "Oh, Zhao Yue, I must win this match today!"
[The lady is coming]
The pines are covered with snow, the mountains are dyed white, and in a world of ice, snow and glazed glass, Zhao Yue and Xue Ming face each other with swords, and the quiet air is filled with an imminent murderous aura.
"Xiao Bai, we have known each other for eleven years. Although you have a weird temper and hold grudges, you are still a person who values love and justice. What happened now? But that little vixen caught you and threatened you.
Did you marry her?" Just now, Zhao Yue chewed two chicken bones and suddenly realized that Xue Ming had been in love with his junior sister for many years, and his behavior this time was really unreasonable.
"Zhao Yue, don't say anything! You disturbed the flowers and candles in my bridal chamber. If I spare you lightly, wouldn't I be sorry to my new bride?" With that, Xue Ming shook his long sword and went straight to Zhao.
Yue's heart was stabbed.
Zhao Yue quickly focused his attention and raised his sword, "When--" The slight sound made by the sword blades connecting was like a ghost whisper, echoing faintly among the vast white mountains.
In the twilight shadow, the fluttering corners of the white robe are like a white butterfly dancing gracefully on the snow, elegant but sad.
The sun behind the shadows of heavy clouds slowly gathered the last trace of warmth, and the sky seemed to be stained with thick ink, giving off a hint of gloom. After a while, one, two, and white snowflakes appeared.
Like the flying catkins of late spring, they fell quietly on the shoulders of the two men who were fighting fiercely.
Gradually, gradually, the blossoming snowflakes seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, pressing on the wings of the white jade butterfly, restraining his light and airy posture.
Zhao Yue was overjoyed and struck Xue Min directly in the heart with his sword. Hum, the little vixen's method of picking up Yang and tonifying Yin is really powerful. It must have exhausted him! He looked like he was exhausted just now!
Xue Min stepped lightly and stepped aside, but the weakness in his body still made his movements slow down. The sudden pain in his left shoulder made his left hand holding the sword tremble, and he almost lost his grip on the hilt.
Zhao Yue sheathed his sword coldly, and a drop of bright red blood rolled from the tip of the sword into the white snow. A beautiful red plum seemed to suddenly bloom on the white snow.
In the past eleven years, he has had countless sweet dreams about defeating Xue Ming. In the dream, Xue Ming was crawling at his feet covered in blood, begging for mercy pitifully, while he laughed happily and happily. Every time he would
Wake up from this dream with a smile.
But now, he had really defeated Xue Min, but his heart was not as excited and happy as expected. The strands of sadness were like tangled threads, tightly binding his heart, making him feel a little overwhelmed.
Angry, he glanced at the red snow indifferently and said calmly: "Xiao Bai, I will win the 362nd game."
Xue Ming didn't seem to care about the outcome, "Zhao Yue, you are always a little reckless and can't hold back your words. I didn't want you to know..."
