Chapter 1650: The bitter cold is not cold, a ten-year appointment! (Part 2)
The wind and snow are slightly cold.
Duanmu King's Tomb is sitting in front of the Sword Prison, with a jar of wine in his hand, taking a sip and pouring it.
He is a born swordsman, born into a family of sword cultivators, and has been dazzling all his life.
His father named him Wang Ling. The word "Ling" is a bit unlucky, but Duanmu Wang Ling knew that his father hoped that he would be loyal to the sword in this life and die by the sword.
Shanhe Jian Zongduo's mausoleum, his father hoped that even if he died, he would be buried in a king-level mausoleum.
It's funny to say that since he was born in Duanmu Prince's Tomb, his father has been looking forward to what will happen after his death.
Regarding his practice, his father could almost be described as not recognizing his relatives, and he almost died practicing swordsmanship several times.
Prince Duanmu tolerated this, after all, his cultivation was his own.
But when Prince Duanmu learned the origin of the name, he was very conflicted and even blamed his father for giving him such a name.
Because he felt that his father only used him as a tool to make the Duanmu clan famous.
In this ancient sword cultivation place, if a family can build a powerful sword mausoleum, it will be a great thing for future generations of Fuze.
In the end, Duanmu Prince's Tomb was even resistant to practicing swordsmanship.
He repairs swords in the Duanmu Prince Mausoleum so that they can serve the family, but he does not want to be reduced to a tool.
Later, he was sent to the Shanhe Sword Sect to practice.
For several years, I never went home.
Even if his father died, he only responded lightly without much sadness.
As for keeping filial piety...that's even more impossible.
Even after death, he was not prepared to forgive his father.
But there are always so many surprises in life.
An accident.
He had to return to his tribe.
But when he returned, the tribe was no longer there and had been wiped out.
It was then that he felt something was wrong.
Later, I learned about it from some escort stewards who had fled to different places.
His Duanmu clan caused big trouble when he was just born.
His father ruthlessly asked him to practice swordsmanship and made Prince Duanmu hate him. All of this was because he wanted Prince Duanmu to join the Sword Sect and forget about this ethnic group that was about to be destroyed.
On that day, Duanmu Wang Ling didn't know how he returned to Jianzong.
That day, he also knew that his father, whom he hated so much, loved him so deeply.
From that day on, the Duanmu Prince's Tomb began to become withdrawn, silent, and turned into a lunatic who only knew how to practice cultivation all day long.
He wants revenge.
But he is too weak and the enemy is too strong.
Before meeting Su Xuan, his life was all about cultivation and revenge! As for the sword, it was just a tool for his revenge! But that day, Su Xuan made him understand that the sword is not just a tool for killing, but also a life.
The sword is life.
Without this idea, how can one make a sword robe?
Duanmu King’s Tomb is full of thoughts.
He is not old, but memories of the past come to mind from time to time.
At this time.
A red-haired young man came over.
His expression was cold and arrogant.
There is also a sword mark between his eyebrows.
Mu Qingchen! A disciple of the Sword Sect who went to Chang'an Sword City to help Qin Wushuang! At the same time, he was also the younger brother of the monk Mu Qingwan who besieged the Tiannan Immortal Sea.
He also became a sword robe.
"Prince Duanmu's Mausoleum, you come here every year to pay homage to those sinful cultivators. It seems you want to go there too."
Mu Qingchen sneered.
"Worship?
Sin cultivation?"
Duanmu Wangling raised his sword eyebrows and said unceremoniously: "How dare you, a piece of trash who even needs your sister's help to gather the sword seal, say this?"
Mu Qingchen paused for a moment, then his face darkened, and he said coldly: "You continue to be arrogant.
This time I am just here to tell you that during this trip to Sword Land, I will definitely kill you!"
Sword Land! A secret practice place of Shanhe Sword Sect contains ancient spiritual swords! And this trial is a battle between the younger generation of sword robes! "Then it depends on whether you have this ability."
Duanmu Wang Ling sneered with contempt.
"snort!"
Mu Qingchen snorted coldly and turned away.
Sword repair.
Just use the sword to speak, no need to talk too much! Watching Mu Qingchen leave, Prince Duanmu shook his head and left with the wine jar.
Passing by the Sword Tomb... the Duanmu King's Tomb pursed his lips and turned away.
He knows.
Su Xuan was originally buried in the Sword Tomb.
But after finding out, he never went to the Sword Tomb again.
In the eyes of the Duanmu King's Tomb, he was not worthy to worship Su Xuan at this moment.
In his opinion.
In this life, he will either die of weakness and have no hope of going to the Sword Tomb to toast him with a glass of wine, or he will become famous and bring wine and a sword to the Sword Tomb to tell the Sword Sect how he reshaped the majestic sword bones in his hands.
Other than that, there is no other choice.
In this life, he must give an explanation to Su Xuan, who passed on his sword seal.
On this day, the Duanmu King's Tomb went to Jiandi alone, and he would not return unless he was strong.
...Sword Tomb.
It is different from the Duanmu Tomb.
Jian Beichen's uncle Jian Kong has been guarding the tomb for thirty years.
He lived in a cottage outside Jian's Tomb, without any disputes with the world.
At first, whenever he saw Jian's Tomb, Jian Kong was filled with sadness and felt worthless for Su Xuan.
In such a great sword sect, no one has come to worship in these years.
The strongest sword robe in the past, the hope of the Sword Sect, was ignored by no one.
But from that moment on, Jiankong gave up.
The Sword Sect of today is no longer the Sword Sect of the past.
Jian Kong suddenly turned around and found that his former friends had either been thrown into the Sword Prison or had left the Sword Sect.
originally.
Jiankong also wanted to leave.
How much he loved the hometown where he raised him in the past, but now it brings him so much pain.
But every time I think of my senior brother who lives and dies in the Sword Prison, and his nephew who is buried in the Sword Tomb, if he leaves, will anyone remember them?
During the holidays, will anyone come over to offer me a glass of wine?
Jiankong finally stayed.
He does not have the famous swordsmanship of his senior brother Jian Huang, nor the unparalleled swordsmanship of his nephew. He is just an ordinary swordsman.
Pride will always lose to time.
Hope will always turn into extravagance.
His sword is empty, so he can only guard the tomb here.
today.
It was the day when Su Xuan was imprisoned in the sword tomb.
The wind and snow seemed to be a bit colder than usual.
Jian Kong came to Jian's tomb as usual.
He brought a jug of wine.
Cold Sword Wine.
Jian Beichen used to like it very much, but Jian Huang always prohibited him from drinking it.
Therefore the wine is bitter and cold, as cold as an icy sword.
"Xiaochen, I hope you will have no worries in the next life."
"Xiao Chen, I hope you don't have a sword in your next life."
"Xiaochen, I wish you happiness and health in the next life."
He whispered, and Hanjian wine poured onto the floor.
far away.
Xiahou Longhu hid in the dark and watched indifferently.
"The centipede is dead but not stiff, but your nephew is still making trouble outside."
He whispered harshly, and his sword intention became a strong force and quietly sealed the surrounding area of the sword tomb, and also sealed the sword sky... At the same time.
On the way to Jianzong.
Yang Fenghua was running away frantically, with a strong desire for survival in his eyes.
In Yang Fenghua's eyes, Jianzong has become his last hope.
"I don't want to die!"
"I, Yang Fenghua, don't deserve to be so aggrieved!"
"Sword Sect is in sight!"
"As long as I enter the Sword Sect's territory, I won't dare to chase him even if I give Su Xuan a hundred courages!"
Yang Fenghua was shouting and trembling in his heart.