Miao Yunyong did not leave immediately. He took the injured elder to collect the corpses of the disciples who died, and then gave Song Yangui instructions on all matters before preparing to leave.
"Senior brother, do you really want to go?" Song Yangui dragged his seriously injured body and seemed to be planning to persuade him one last time.
"Junior brother, take a good rest."
Miao Yunyong did not see what Song Yangui meant, or in other words, his inner thoughts were firm and would no longer be affected by others.
Song Yangui watched Miao Yunyong leave with complicated eyes. He took his seriously injured disciple to a nearby town to rest, and then left alone in the middle of the night and went to a restaurant in the town to meet two special friends.
"Taoist Chang Qing, you are here."
After warming three glasses of wine on the table between Yan Feng and Zeng Hong, Song Yangui sat down with a sullen expression, looking at the glass of wine in front of him but making no move.
Yan Feng chuckled and said: "This is a good wine brought from Beijing. Even I can hardly drink it on weekdays. Taoist Chang Qing, don't you want to try it?"
"No need," Song Yangui said with an indifferent expression: "I am here today just to choose the right path for Wudang. No matter what the situation is in the future, Wudang and you Jin Yiwei will still be on the same page."
"It seems that Taoist Master Song is indeed a noble man." Zeng Hong's words, which seemed to be smiling but not smiling, made Song Yangui's expression completely gloomy.
Yan Feng didn't seem to see the other party's face, but he was still quite curious: "Speaking of which, I really don't understand. Now that Senior Brother Ling has mastered swordsmanship and martial arts, he is no longer as good as Na Ke Hentian. The Wudang Sect has such a leader.
, shouldn’t you be happy? Why instead...?”
Song Yangui said in a painful tone: "If senior brother is willing to follow me back to the mountain, everything will be fine, but he... When senior uncle passed away, he left us a way to survive. Does he think that he
Do you have a longer-term vision than your uncle?"
Song Yangui's tone was full of resentment, which was why he came to Jin Yiwei privately. This move was tantamount to betrayal, and could even be said to be worse than an animal, but for the sake of the Wudang Sect, he had to do this.
Yan Feng looked at him, and after being silent for a while, he suddenly smiled and said: "I have heard this saying before, the so-called swordsman is the blade of the heart. It seems that it is not unreasonable for your senior brother's martial arts to be higher than yours."
Song Yangui's expression was gloomy and he didn't react. Compared to himself who only wanted to survive in the cracks, his senior brother was indeed more courageous. The reason why he wanted to pick up the evil sword was because he was not willing to accept his uncle's choice for them.
A certain path of escape.
But can senior brother alone really turn the tide? How many Wudang disciples can catch up with him? He goes further and further, and in the end, even if everything goes as he wishes, will the Wudang sect be able to survive?
How many living people are coming?
Is it really worth it?
Song Yangui didn't know what Miao Yunyong was thinking, but he had already made his own decision. He was willing to give up his face and become a guard dog to ensure that the continuation of the Wudang Sect would not be cut off in his generation.
Bet on the so-called hope with a probability of 1.
"Brother, he wants to go to Chen to explain the situation clearly. Next, he will settle in Kaifeng to build some momentum, and then cross the Yellow River and continue north. If you set off now, you should be able to intercept him before he crosses the river."
After Song Yangui finished speaking, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength. He closed his eyes in pain and said with difficulty: "I have only one request. I hope you can spare his life."
"Taoist Priest, don't worry. Jinyiwei always keeps promises and promises. Now that we have seen Taoist Priest Chang Qing's sincerity, we will definitely take the life of Master Miao into consideration," Zeng Hong said.
Of course, both Yan Feng and Zeng Hong, as well as Song Yangui himself, knew that today's promise was nothing but nonsense, but in any case, hypocritical lies are far gentler than the cruel truth.
"Without further delay, I will leave now. Please keep this glass of wine. If you want to drink it in the future, I will welcome you at any time."
Yan Feng smiled and drank a glass of wine, and then left the restaurant with Zeng Hong. After a galloping horse's hooves, the two of them disappeared into the night.
Song Yangui looked at the glass of wine and suddenly raised his hand and knocked it to the ground. He knelt on the ground in pain and let out a sad cry. The torture in his heart was like a chain, which made him almost breathless.
...
A few days later, at night, with the moonlight changing, Miao Yunyong was walking alone on the road. His shadow was infinitely stretched and hung diagonally on the loess wall.
This is the town closest to Kaifeng. Miao Yunyong planned to rest for the night and continue on the road tomorrow. It was already late at night, there were almost no pedestrians on the road, and the howling wind made people feel numb.
Miao Yunyong stared at the deserted street in front of him, slowly grasped the evil sword on his back, and said loudly: "I don't know which senior is here, please come out and see him."
The wind was not calm, but someone suddenly appeared on the empty street. Miao Yunyong's eyes gradually became serious. The person stood opposite him far away, as if he had been staying there all along.
What an amazing light kung fu - Miao Yunyong thought to himself. At the same time, he carefully looked at the white-bearded and white-faced old man in front of him. He cupped his fists slightly and said, "I don't know your senior's surname?"
"Qi Yunzi is your master?" the old man asked. The two were four or five feet away, but as soon as the other party's lips moved, the voice fell into Miao Yunyong's ears as if he could find the direction.
Miao Yunyong's heart sank, and he said solemnly: "Exactly."
"Then your uncle is Shangyangzi." The old man seemed to be confirming something.
"Not bad." Miao Yunyong nodded and did not let go of the hand holding the Tianxi Sword for a moment.
"Then did your uncle warn you that Taoist swordsmanship should not be abused?" The old man seemed a little dissatisfied, and his tone was a bit accusatory.
Miao Yunyong frowned. Although the other party did not mention him by name, he could tell that the Taoist sword technique this person was referring to was the most bizarre Tai Chi Qing Ling sword technique among the Wudang sword techniques.
"Is it possible that senior is also a member of the Taoist sect? Junior, you seem to be very familiar with my Wudang martial arts?" Miao Yunyong asked tentatively.
This is not Miao Yun Yongwu's aim. Although the opponent's robes are in tatters, some traces of Taoism can be seen vaguely. Although he is not worthy of a weapon, there is a long wooden stick hanging on his waist, which is flat in front and round in back.
, like a sword.
"My name is Taixuan." The Taoist said.
Miao Yunyong frowned. He felt very unfamiliar with this name, but it did sound like he was from Taoism.
So he said: "I dare to ask, is the senior also invited by the Chen family?"
"no."
Taixuan lowered his eyes and landed on the fierce sword behind Miao Yunyong. He said, "I'm here to kill you."
Miao Yunyong was stunned: "Why? Did the junior offend the senior in some way? Or, what the junior did has brought shame to the Taoist sect?"
"No," Tai Xuan said with an indifferent look, "It's just that you shouldn't practice this swordsmanship, let alone practice it to such a level."