Volume III Yinjiang Chapter 111 Under the Cold Pool
Seeing that the Yin Yang Sword was about to fall on Qingqing's unprepared head, Qingqing did not want to take a step back, but tried hard to reach forward with the wooden flute in his hand, hoping that the spirits of Linghu's ancestors in heaven could make his head break before it was shattered.
, first put the flute head on Ruo Dong’s heart.
But with Qingqing's young ability, even if he was one step ahead, how could he hurt Mr. Ruo at all?
Just as the Yin-Yang sword passed by, he suddenly heard a "Zheng" sound, and Linghu Ziqin pulled out the string sword from his sleeve at the critical moment, firmly blocking the way of the poisonous sword. Then he pushed Qingqing's shoulder with his left hand,
Calmly:
"Go quickly."
Qingqing didn't even take a step forward. She had agreed with her master that we could never be separated again in this life.
The thought of death flashed through Qingqing's mind for a moment, but the fear in that moment immediately disappeared completely. Qilang and Jianing were already waiting by the Naihe Bridge. If the sky really wanted to cut off the Linghu family's retreat today,
, there seems to be nothing wrong with everyone being reunited in the underworld.
Thinking of this, Qingqing got the strength from nowhere, raised up the white jade flute in his hand, and the wind and waves brought down a large number of West Lake's disciples.
Listening to the sound of "clicking" constantly reaching his ears, Qingqing did not feel anxious at all as he was trapped in a tight siege. Instead, he calmed down and listened carefully to the meridians and the pleasant sounds of broken bones. During the group attack.
, the white jade flute has no sharp points, so most of the time no blood is seen, and it just relies on its indestructible body to smash the opponent's vital points into pieces.
Such an elegant thing, when placed in Qingqing's hands, inadvertently seemed a bit arrogant. However, Qingqing could not imitate the master's natural romantic temperament, with his wooden flute, the art of listening to music and the writing skills.
, is enough to end the life in front of you.
What sounded like gravel rolling down from the mountain was heard. The young hero holding the long sword in front of him stood upright, but when his thin chest met the white jade flute, he couldn't help but retreat softly.
You don't need to look closely to know that those broken ribs are piercing into your heart, and your heartbeat is already exhausted.
"Senior Brother Jingming!"
As soon as a familiar voice shouted, Qingqing turned around subconsciously. She saw An Ge walking through the crowd, raising his sword, and running desperately in the direction of Qingqing. Qingqing saw An Ge's figure, two petite
The braids were jumping around, and there was always an indescribable familiarity in my heart.
Looking at the black-robed disciple lying on the ground, it turned out to be Jing Ming who almost poured the soup into his throat on the Ruixin Pagoda.
But Qingqing watched the two of them fall down and the other running wildly. They were obviously so familiar, but for some reason, they seemed to have never known each other. Before hesitating, Qingqing had already taken the lead and took the white jade with his palm.
The flute gesture "Long Live the Withered Vine" pushed An Ge's long sword away several steps.
But the white jade flute and the long sword were still together, and the two internal forces were at odds with each other. An Ge finally couldn't bear it anymore and spit out a mouthful of blood.
I don’t know how many people Xihu brought to the siege of Lirong Mountain this time. Qingqing saw the young people in black coming in waves like a tide. The ones in front fell, and those behind immediately made up for the previous ones.
s position--
There was not the slightest pause, nor was there a moment of mercy. The eyes of those young girls were fogged, and they only knew that the tip of the sword was pointing in the direction they were heading.
As a result, only Master and Mr. Ruo were left to fight alone, while they were blocked further and further away by countless people.
Perhaps inadvertently, Qingqing looked up at the sky and realized that he had seen the stars in the frost pool of the Southern Forest, the light of the Jianghe River in the wilderness of the Northern Desert, and that the world was so vast and belonged to the master, but there was only
This is a square corner.
Now that Linghu's disciples are separated from each other, is this the fate of Master Linghu?
Qingqing's young heart cannot hold so much. She only knows that the world in Master's heart is far more than the mountains and waves of Lirong Mountain, and the mountains and rivers between her eyes. Those mountains and rivers are what she has been staring at for a long time, leaning against each other, and spreading.
An inseparable scene of heaven and earth in my heart.
And the master's blurred brows were getting further and further away from him at this moment.
Qingqing clenched the white jade flute tightly, and her five fingers felt a heartbreaking pain. Warm liquid kept flowing along the wooden flute and flowing into the flute hole. Qingqing knew that this was the same as the master more than ten years ago.
The blood is forced out by the "penetrating wood three points" in the bone marrow.
A long roar pierced the sky, and Qingqing swung the wooden flute completely. Before those disciples who were not very good at the technique could realize what happened, their ribs pierced their hearts, and blood surged from their mouths.
Mo, fell down one after another. Qingqing saw the back of the master's green robe entangled with Mr. Ruo's black clothes, and couldn't help but whisper:
"Master... we agreed that we will never be separated wherever we go..."
This sentence was spoken in such a low voice that even the West Lake disciples around him could hear it.
(This chapter is not finished, please turn the page)
It was not clear, but every word came clearly to Ziqin's ears.
Suddenly, Qingqing felt a burning pain in her left arm. When she lowered her head, she saw that the bleeding on her finger had stopped, but gurgling black and red liquid was flowing down from the scar on the palm of her left hand.
Frowning, Qingqing wanted to move, but it was as if half of his body was thrown into the sea of fire. He hesitated for a moment, and was already shrouded in the center of the light and shadow composed of the long sword. The light of the sword flashed in front of his eyes, and Ruo was in the distance.
The Yin Yang Sword in Mr.'s hand is vaguely visible——
It happened that when his life was at stake, the wound was poisonous, as if God couldn't wait to take the lead, take him away from his master, and throw him into the eighteenth level of hell!
"Is it really God's will to destroy my Linghu descendants for violating their oath?"
Qingqing bent down and coughed violently, tears and blood streaming down his face.
Barely stepping on the Plum Blossom Formation at his feet, Qingqing opened a "Thousand Miles Formation Cloud" in his hand -
Even if this fate is certain, God must see that the disciples of the Linghu family are not people who are begging for mercy after being threatened!
At the moment when dozens of long swords were about to pierce Qingqing's front and back, a breeze blew past, and the last green figure stepped lightly into the crowd, stepping on the sword blade.
He pushed Qingqing away from the shadow of the sword. Then, like a loyal warrior, the string sword killed all those who stood in the way in front of Ziqin and Qingqing.
Qingqing was lying in Ziqin's arms and saw blood oozing from the corners of her master's mouth.
It wasn't until a group of West Lake disciples realized that the two were extremely fast that they couldn't catch up, and then they remembered Mr. Ruo under the old banyan tree——
In the hearts of his disciples, Mr. Ruo traveled around the world without ever encountering an opponent and without any defeat.
At this moment, he and another group of black-robed disciples were lying on the raised tree roots on the ground, facing up to the sky, eyes wide open, and the last faint breath came out of their mouths.
Ziqin hugged Qingqing and hurriedly ran back to the top of the mountain. The visitors from West Lake seemed not to have discovered this place yet, but the Shupu Pavilion not far away was shrouded in flames. The fire spread everywhere, and the banyan forest was already devastated.
.
After rummaging through boxes and cabinets, Ziqin found a green medicine bottle, cut open her finger, and dripped her own blood into it. For some reason, Ziqin's fingertips were trembling, and specks of blood were scattered everywhere.
Qingqing was already in a coma and lost consciousness. The wound was poisonous, and the veins stained purple and black ran along the arm and extended to the heart. While Ziqin put the powder mixed with blood on Qingqing's lips, she finally couldn't restrain herself.
He lowered his head and let all his tears fall on Qingqing's scarred face.
"Qing Qing... I remember that the fortune teller in West Lake said that there will be a bloody disaster between you and me within a hundred days. It turned out to be such a meaning. If it had been expected earlier, Qin should have taken you back to Lirong Mountain earlier...
"
"The hexagram says that Qin and Qingqing cannot be separated, just like the other side of the flower in hell, the flowers and leaves are intertwined. After all, human life is no match for God's will... This time the eight instruments and four instruments besieged Lirong Mountain for convenience.
It's because my master violated his ancestral oath and went down the mountain without authorization. Master Mo Chen's loyalty is not betrayed by heaven. I, the Linghu clan, have ended up like this today. It's only the master who has to bear this eternal crime... It's just Qingqing, the Linghu clan's
Descendants must protect the white jade flute and read "Fan Ya Ji" thoroughly. Descendants must live on, so that the inheritance of a hundred generations of heads will not be in vain..."
Having said this, Ziqin stood up, picked up his lyre, and carefully stroked the rough texture that had experienced wind and rain. Looking at the empty body of the lyre, Ziqin hesitated for a moment, and untied the fourth "fire string"
Come down.
With a flick of his wrist, another sharp object emerged, as sharp as iron.
Ziqin looked at Qingqing's peaceful sleeping face, her expression indifferent, as if no matter how many killings and shouts outside the mountain could not wake her up. Her white fingers wrapped Qingqing's cold hand in it, and Ziqin leaned close to her disciple's ear.
, said softly:
"The lyre left by the master now has four strings of 'gold, wood, water and earth', which can block all the murderous intentions towards Linghu's disciples... Now the master has untied another 'fire string' for use.
The last two strings of 'civil and military' are left to you——"
"Remember that Master is always by your side and has never left you for a moment..."
Ziqin held Qingqing's cold hand tightly, as if no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't warm it up. If she had a second choice, Ziqin would rather just stare at Qingqing's sleeping face until the two of them were together.
, was swallowed up in the raging fire.
But now this strong fire string has "clanged" and is ready to fight with the guests at the foot of the mountain.
Qingqing's weak breathing gradually became inaudible. Ziqin put down Qingqing's hand and wanted to hug her, only to realize that her disciple's whole body was like an ice hole in winter, and there was no trace of blood in the cold.
Taking one last look at his disciple sleeping soundly, Ziqin lifted the stringed sword
(This chapter is not finished, please turn the page)
He put it into his sleeve and held the tip of the sword tightly in his hand.
Without looking back, the bamboo hut in the firelight gradually disappeared into the scattered clouds behind Ziqin.
"do not leave……"
In his dream, Qingqing saw Ziqin's back getting farther and farther away from him. He was so anxious that he quickly wanted to catch up, but half of his body was burning with pain. If he said he wanted to tell the master to stop, he was still mumbling, "Why?"
Can't make a sound either.
Watching the master's back gradually blur, and finally disappeared——
Qingqing only felt that this seemed to be the last time he saw the master in his eyes.
"Master, be careful of the cold."
The burly Li Zhiyu stood next to Wen Li, carefully using his broad palms to put an old robe on the leader's thin body. The color of the robe was a little faded, and it was originally the clothes left by the previous old leader.
, showing many traces of time.
The young Wen Li was standing on the edge of Lingdeng Cliff, letting the scalding hot wind blow on his cheeks.
Wen Li is several years younger than Qing Qing, and even half a head shorter than Li Zhiyu. Standing at the highest point of Lirong Mountain, he reveals a mature temperament that belies his age. The young leader Wen is wearing thin clothes and is swaying as he stands.
Shaking and coughing from time to time, it seemed as if he was about to fall into the sea hundreds of feet below at any moment.
But those eyes, with a few wrinkles prematurely painted on the edges of their upward curves.
Behind Head Wen, those figures in black robes made a constant sound of swords clashing. A few long swords quickly killed the Linghu family who was still alive. Qichuan and Qilang's Yaozhi Hall and Zhijin Hall were turned upside down.
The precious classics and beautiful embroidery threads were all thrown to the ground. Without paying attention, they disappeared into the vast fire.
It's just that a long time has passed, but there is still no sign of "Fan Ya Ji".
Wen Li raised the corner of his mouth slightly - in fact, he was not very interested in this music score that he could not understand. More importantly, he wanted to let the descendants of West Lake completely destroy this place!
She burned the Nanlin Ruixin Pagoda, the West Lake Seven-Star Palace, and the Beimo Baiyin Qin——
So what if he saved his own life from the sand prison? Listening to the crackling of sparks, Wen Li laughed so hard that his whole body trembled. The so-called reincarnation of heaven meant that Lirong Mountain would be burned to the ground.
"Retribution, retribution..."
The headmaster murmured to himself, not caring about the surprised look on the girl Yu's side.
The equally cold white jade flute was placed in Qingqing's hand, without saying a word, as if she had been waiting for her master of more than ten years to wake up. Qingqing only felt that she had fallen into an endless dark cage, obviously without any body.
Bound, but no matter what, I can't break free of the invisible shackles.
The hot blood struggled in the body, but was covered up by the gusts of cold wind.
The white jade flute was still lying on the bamboo couch, motionless. Qingqing's fingertips began to tremble, and she was just a hair away from holding the white jade flute in her hands again. But her fingers no longer had the strength -
Ziqin's figure disappeared into the distance, and she fell into the darkness completely again.
The familiar feeling of drowning came to her heart again. In the chaos, Qingqing seemed to be holding her own neck, fearing that the biting water under the frost pool would rush into her chest.
Under the cold pool, the water pierced her cold skin bit by bit, penetrated into her bones, and even raised her dry grass-like hair. Qingqing waited for the master's warm hands to stroke her long hair as usual.
Send a gentle kiss to your forehead.
But all that was wrapped around him were the big hands growing out of the endless darkness, wrapping himself in the darkness with nowhere to escape. Qingqing looked around and saw that there was no blue figure around, so he let go of the hand at his throat,
Close your eyes.
Big splashes of water poured into her mouth, but Qingqing felt that the pool of water was far from being as cold as her fingers touched, but rather warm, like the road leading to Naihe Bridge. There were not as many clouds as she imagined, but there was a trace of persistence.
The light shines through and shines on the boundless land.
Many years later, when the woman named "Lin Qing" recalled this dream again, she realized that this is what the world calls "hope".
But Bai Yuxiao, who was lying next to Qingqing, didn't know what would happen next. It wasn't until Qingqing let go of her hand on her throat and let the warm water pour into her chest that she finally seemed to realize something——
The hands covering his breathlessness were actually on the left and right sides of his body.
Muxiao transferred all the warmth of her body to Qingqing's body. Qingqing's palms finally trembled violently, and then her whole body trembled non-stop. A long breath was sucked into her mouth, and Qingqing's eyes suddenly opened wide.
In the light of the fire, everything was empty except for a white jade flute and an incomplete lyre.