The fifth day of September.
As the sun rises, the dewdrops on the treetops and grass are shining in the sunlight, like thousands of small gems, embellishing the hillside wilderness with a rich and noble atmosphere for no reason.
Behind the hill is a small village, which happens to be in the middle of a wide valley. Except for the steep rock wall behind the village, the hills on the left and right sides are full of lush trees and pine waves like the sea, which is very pleasing to the eye.
A large flat land in front of the village is full of millet.
September is the harvest season, bundles of straw, with heavy ears of grain, are neatly stacked on both sides of the field.
A bullock cart was driven out of the field and turned back to the village. The cart was full of freshly cut ears of grain.
These ears of grain will be spread out on the commons in the village to dry.
After a few days, the shells will be peeled off, and the millet will be millet.
The driver of the cart was wearing a bamboo hat to cover the autumn tiger's sun, with one leg propped on the cart and the other dangling outside the cart, his trousers rolled up to his calf, and his sackcloth shoes covered with mud from the field.
The coachman looked drowsy, but no matter how many potholes the bullock cart passed, his buttocks were still firmly glued to the seat, and he would never be bumped down.
The ox cart turned over a small hillside, and by a stream in front of the village, seven or eight village women were washing their clothes.
The hillside in the distance is covered with green grass. Two cows and a few sheep are gnawing on the grass leisurely. Six or seven cattle-herding children, sticking out the branches, are playing the game of fighting in the rivers and lakes. A few play good guys, a few play bad guys, and every day there is a drama of justice over evil.
Every day when the coachman came back, his son would rush up from the entrance of the village, yelling "Da Da". And he would lift him affectionately and throw him into the sky a few times, his cackle laughing louder than any sound.
In the same way, a beautiful figure would wait for me at the entrance of the village with a smile on her back, holding a laundry tub on her shoulders.
That is the most beautiful village girl in eight villages, she is willing to live with herself for the rest of her life.
In my arms is also the strongest and most beautiful child in Shilibacun...
He also asked, Bao'er, did you recite your lessons
Back down.
Three-year-old Bao'er can always surprise him.
Clearing up the unknown, Purdue Xianhang. The ladder sky surpasses the sea, like hiding like hiding.
Calling for the vacant position, dispatching all parties to serve, the thunder and the thunderbolt are like lightning.
…
He doesn't know how to teach children the Four Books and Five Classics, so he had to teach the children to recite the sword manual.
A three-year-old child's memory has already surpassed that of all adults, and he can recite the entire sword formula with more than a thousand characters verbatim.
At that moment, he just wanted to die of old age in this warm countryside.
Although the village girl was not his wife, her tyrannical husband was killed by himself; even though the child was not his own flesh and blood, the child's father was a dangerous only friend who would put him to death at any time...
Luo Jingli.
The most outstanding killer among the younger generation of Blood Fiend.
It has been almost half a year since he betrayed Xue Fiend, finally escaped from his most trusted friend, and lived in seclusion in this mountain village.
Although the time was short, he enjoyed it very much.
Today, I can hold Bao'er around for a few laps again, and personally stuff some delicious vegetable and meat buns made by village girls.
But today, it was very strange.
Even after entering the village entrance, I didn't see Bao'er who was waiting for me as usual, nor the only beautiful figure in the mountain village.
Luo Jingli's face gradually became gloomy.
He got out of the bullock cart, tied the cart directly to a crooked-neck tree at the entrance of the village, and pulled out a rusty sword without its sheath from under the bullock cart's buttocks.
That sword can't really be called a sword anymore.
The pitch-black sword body would be rusted to pieces, and the blade was curled, and the teeth were broken...
It is even more worn out than the sickle thrown by the old farmer in the mountain village.
Turning around the old pagoda tree in front is my home.
The low and dilapidated stone house had air leaks from all sides, but he had already blocked the air outlets with mud, leaving only the roof in tatters, which was planned to be covered with a layer of thatch in the next few days.
When Luo Jingli walked slowly to the front of the house, several figures also slowly surrounded him from all sides.
From the neighbor Wang Laoshi's house, the roof of Aunt Guo's house, the cellar of Cui Dibao's house... came out one by one.
He knew that there would be no living people in places where these things appeared.
Luo Jingli stood at the door of the house.
The village girl who was supposed to be waiting for her at the entrance of the village was naked. A sharp sword pierced through her beautiful chest and nailed her to the courtyard wall.
With unwillingness and worry in his panicked eyes, he stared in the direction of the village entrance.
The direction of his return.
Luo Jingli, who had killed thousands of people without a single wave in his heart, trembled involuntarily, but his hands were still so steady.
On the steps of the door, where I often squat to eat steamed buns with vegetables and meat, watching the sunset and sunset, there is a person squatting at this moment, holding a freshly baked steamed steamed stuffed bun in his hand, and Herod is eating happily.
Looking up at Luo Jingli, then at the village girl who died on the wall, Song Bieli smiled slightly. "It is indeed the best swordsman I have trained. Even in this barren village, you can find such a good girl who can make such delicious vegetable and meat buns."
"Where is the child?" Luo Jingli's lips trembled, his right hand holding the sword hilt was pale and transparent.
"It's not your son, why are you in a hurry?" Song Bieli snorted coldly, and said lightly, "The child will return to his father. Hehe, the pavilion master should like this child very much. He is more important than you and Zong Xuan when they were young." Clever, but also cuter. If you cultivate it carefully, I believe that after twenty years, it will be more powerful than you and Zong Xuan combined!"
"Leave that child alone... I'll kill someone for you." Luo Jingli used his last bit of strength to say such a sentence.
Song Bieli laughed out loud. "After hiding from the organization for so long, people have become naive." Taking a deep breath, he glanced at the leisurely rural scene between the world and the earth, "Is it because you haven't killed for so long that you forget the reality of the world? How can life be something that people like you can adapt to?"
When the words fell, screams began to sound from everywhere in the village.
Song Bieli carefully identified each scream, and unconsciously tapped the time with his right hand, as if listening to the most moving music in the world. "Did you hear that? This is the world you should exist in..."
ah!
A heart-piercing roar burst out from Luo Jingli's mouth...
The rusty sword in his hand instantly turned into a shooting star in the sky, stabbing at the demon sitting on the steps with incomparable anger and unwillingness.
Clang!
The blood fiend masters all around drew their swords almost at the same time!
More than ten meteors intercepted at the same time.
The impact of meteors and meteors is so beautiful and tragic...
Meteors appear and disappear again.
None of the killers who attacked Luo Jingli could still breathe the air of the world.
But Luo Jingli himself had already been pierced through the heart with a sword, and was firmly nailed to the village girl's side.
With a cruel smile, Song Bieli slowly pulled out the "peach blossom drunk" in Luo Jingli's heart.
"Skills are better than before... but... you still have to die."
There was a straw in Siniang's hairline.
Luo Jingli stretched out his hand a few times, wanting to help her take off...
Siniang, remember, her name is Siniang.
In the next life, I must meet her sooner.
Luo Jingli's hand fell down, not only the straw, but also a strand of black silk.