This is the first time Wei Nianci has seen a middle-level monk who practiced Qi kill someone.
It's not that she has never seen a middle-level monk in Qi training make a move. When she was with Xu Xianjian earlier, in order to show his superb sword style, the other party used Wukong Jianmen's sword technique. When Xu Xianjian struck down with his sword, the stone split and the wood shattered, and the momentum was extraordinary. At that time, Wei Nianci and Lu Luo couldn't help applauding.
When the cultivation base reaches the middle level of Qi training, no one is willing to fight with others easily, and the tricks in the arena are all at the point. Wei Nianci has been walking in the rivers and lakes for many years, and he has not seen a monk in the middle level of Qi training killed. Quite a few monks were killed.
But tonight, Wei Nianci saw it.
See clearly.
It is precisely because I can see clearly that I don't see clearly.
Outside the door was the swordsman in green wearing a bamboo hat. When he made a move, Wei Nianci only saw a flash of light passing by. At the same time, the disciples of the Penglai Daomen quickly dodged sideways, leaving only an afterimage on the spot at such a high speed.
Then the swordsman in green came to the position of the afterimage, and put his sword back into its sheath. The disciple of Penglai Daomen froze at the threshold, and then fell down clutching his bloody throat.
There is only one move in the fight, and one move can determine the victory or defeat, as well as life and death. It is unbelievably fast. Wei Nianci didn't understand at all, how the swordsman in Tsing Yi made a move, let alone how the disciples of Penglai Daoism were caught in the move. Only saw the result.
The result couldn't be more obvious, one person stood and one fell down.
Wei Nianci didn't have time to be surprised, because she also saw several streamers of light flashing in the courtyard outside the door at the same time.
The knife aura is not a straight line, but a crescent-shaped curve, wide in the middle and narrow on both sides.
This is all Wei Nianci saw. In the dark courtyard, when the saber energy flashed, there was an instant of light, brighter and more short-lived than when lightning appeared in the sky.
The knife flashed, and the Tsing Yi yamen swordsmen in the courtyard changed positions, and the Penglai Taoist disciples also changed positions. The difference was that the former put their swords back into their sheaths calmly, while the latter collapsed in the heavy rain and convulsed.
From the beginning to the end, the Tsing Yi swordsman standing on the roof did not move.
The battle in the courtyard was just a repeat of the battle at the gate.
Lightning fell suddenly, and the courtyard became clear for a moment. Only then did Wei Nianci see that there were bleeding wounds on the two swordsmen in Tsing Yi standing like gods.
Wei Nianci couldn't help taking two steps back, and fell down on the wooden chair, his face pale.
At this moment, she clearly realized that compared with the killing skills of the Tsing Yi swordsman, Xu Xianjian's sword style can only be described as flowery fists and embroidered legs.
She found it absurd and unbelievable. The Tsing Yi swordsman kills is a real murder, even if they will be injured, they still have to kill the enemy with one blow. It seems that for them, after one move, either you die or I die, and there will be no second ending.
This is a group of monks whose purpose is to kill people, this group of monks who do not spare their own lives, as if their appearance means death, they are ghosts, Yama.
Wei Nianci thought that she had already thought highly of Tsing Yi Yamen, she thought that her fear of Tsing Yi Yamen was already deep enough, but only then did she realize how wrong she was before.
The scary thing about Tsing Yi Yamen is not that they bully others, they don't lie in their strength, they don't lie in disregarding human life. They are scary because they ignore life.
Jianghu monks, not to mention the middle level of qi training, just any qi training master, would be reluctant to die. Because being alive means being well-clothed and well-fed. Even if they fail to compete with others, or lose in front of everyone, they will endure the humiliation of failure and continue to live.
They spared their lives.
How can a person who cherishes his life compare to a person who does not want his life
Is it true that these Penglai Taoist disciples are not as good as Tsing Yi Yamen swordsmen? it's not true.
However, few of the disciples of Penglai Taoism have experienced the battle of life and death. They have been pampered in Pinglu for too long. They have not been endangered by others. It has been too long. too long.
The Tsingyi Yamen and the Penglai Daomen are completely two extremes.
Such a Penglai Taoist sect, even if there are many monks, how can it fight against such a Tsing Yi Yamen
The courtyard was empty, the swordsman from Tsing Yi Yamen had already left, only the big raindrops kept falling.
Wei Shinan had already collapsed on the ground, and Luluo rushed over in fright, hugging Wei Nianci tightly and crying, not daring to look in the direction of the door again. Wei Nianci stroked Luluo's back, trying to control her hands not to tremble. In her mind, the words left by the swordsman in Tsing Yi when he left were still lingering.
"If you can't even hold the hero post, what kind of hero is it?"
The courtyard was quiet, with torrential rain, thunder and lightning, pea-sized raindrops fell on the eaves, and the crackling sound was ridiculously loud, making people panic.
Wei Nianci never felt that there was a night as terrible as this night.
...
Outside the county town, in front of a forest beside the official road.
Someone stood with an umbrella.
The umbrella is a black-faced oiled paper umbrella, without any pattern, the only feature is that it is surprisingly large, more than enough to accommodate three people.
The umbrella leaves are big, but the people under the umbrella are extremely thin.
Not only thin, but also gray-haired.
He glanced at the city walls of the county, with a calm expression, and said to himself: "There are twenty-nine counties in the five prefectures of Pinglu, and there are ninety-six rivers and lakes above the county level. Tsing Yi Bang. Tsing Yi yamen qi trainer ninety-eight, one person can barely take care of one force. This is going to break my legs. How many years have I been tossing like this with my old bones?"
Behind him, there are two green-clothed swordsmen in bamboo hats and coir raincoats, standing five steps apart with their hands behind their backs.
When he spoke, his voice was clear, but the two swordsmen didn't intend to answer.
He laughed and continued to talk to himself: "If I had known earlier, I would have to go through such a toss with King An, and I would run no matter what. The farther the better, even if I went to Nanzhao, even if I went to the Western Regions, I would run."
Speaking of this, he paused, with a strange smile: "But now, I don't want to run away. Because I suddenly discovered that tossing can be so interesting. King An can toss and toss us to death, but it's all It’s nothing, the one who should really feel uncomfortable is the opponent we tormented.”
He talked to himself without stopping, and his voice was neither soft nor heavy, as if there was a person standing in front of him, listening attentively. No matter what he said, the other party could listen carefully.
The two green-clothed swordsmen behind him still had no intention of answering.
Because they know that when the old man talks, he doesn't like someone to answer.
Because he doesn't like to talk to others, he only likes to talk to himself.
He often talks to himself, when he walks, when he eats, when he takes a bath, when he goes to the latrine, all the time. Nagging is generally nagging to others, but he only nagged to himself.
The two swordsmen in Tsing Yi have gotten used to the habits of the elderly.
If it is a slightly younger person with such a habit, people will definitely think that he is a lunatic.
But he was gray-haired and very old, and he had such a habit that no one thought he was crazy.
I just feel that... he is lonely and lonely.
Even in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by laughter and laughter, he is still lonely, still lonely, deep into the bone marrow.
Someone came out of the county, jumped directly from the city wall, and then rushed over. The city wall of a county is just not high, and usually there are not many guards, let alone such a rainy night, the actions of those swordsmen in bamboo hats and coir raincoats did not even arouse a single exclamation.
They ran up to the white-haired old man who was thin but holding a big umbrella, bowed and saluted, and the leader said: "Old Mo, the task is completed!"
This maverick old man is one of the four masters of Tsingyi Yamen, from Mo Dongli of Zhenwu.
Mo Dongli didn't speak. He didn't like to talk to people unless it was absolutely necessary.
With a wave of his hand, a map opened in front of him. It rained heavily like a waterfall, but not a single drop of rain could fall on the map. This is not because Mo Dongli's cultivation is superb, but because his umbrella is too big to block the rain and waterfall.
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Glancing at the map, Mo Dongli said to the person in front of him, "Go to the ink and wash gang."
The Tsing Yi swordsman in front of him clasped his fists: "Yes!"
Mo Dongli's words were the target of their next move. The Swordsman in Tsing Yi didn't say much. In front of Mo Dongli, he had learned to be as concise as possible.
Mo Dongli glanced at the sky, and suddenly smiled. His smile was very strange. Anyone who saw it would not think that he was smiling at others, as if he was smiling at himself: "One hundred and twenty miles, two miles away. an hour."
All the swordsmen in Tsing Yi had serious expressions on their faces.
One hundred and twenty miles shows the distance from this place to the Mojiao Gang. Two hours is the time limit. It is not the time limit for rushing, but the time limit for completing the task. Even for a qi practitioner, it is not easy to travel a hundred and twenty miles in two hours on such a heavy rainy night, let alone complete the task.
But no one disputed it.
They immediately turned and acted.
Time is short, so there is no room for a moment's delay.
Mo Dongli didn't close his umbrella, and walked slowly, with a step of more than ten feet.
He held his umbrella with his right hand from beginning to end, so there was a lot of space on the right side, and he didn't mean to hold it in front of him at all, as if, there was always a person on his right hand.
...
Zhao Polu fell to the ground with a backflip, bowed and slid back, his feet on the muddy official road, plowing out two gullies that submerged his insteps, and the mud was splashed into lines around his feet.
He held the spear tightly in his hand, staring forward with both eyes, his posture was like a tiger, and his eyes were like a wolf.
A hundred paces away in front of him, two Taoists in black robes both fell to the ground.
In the middle and on both sides of the hundred-step road, more than a dozen corpses have fallen, including swordsmen in green clothes and Taoists in white robes.
Zhao Polu's retreat stopped abruptly, and the moment he stopped, he stood up from the ground, leaving two deep pits under his feet, and leaped twenty feet, but he arrived in an instant, with the spear in his hand He didn't hold it high, but flattened his chest, like a sharp arrow, and stabbed at the two Mo-robed Taoists who had fallen to the mud and hadn't had time to get up.
The ink-robed Taoist in front of Zhao Polu's right stretched out his hand to slap the mud, stirring up countless muddy water, his body bounced straight up, and the long sword in his hand went straight to Zhao Polu's chest!
Before the long sword arrived, the spear had already pierced the Taoist's throat, and suddenly stabbed his body back, nailing him hard to the ground!
Zhao Polu stepped forward, bent his knees, bent over, and hit the Taoist's arched chest with his right elbow.
Amidst the dull sound, the Taoist's body fell down, a glaring line of blood was pulled out from the throat on the spear body, and the flesh and bones rolled out, making a sharp and piercing chirping sound.
The Taoist on the left slashed straight at Zhao Polu with his sword.
The brilliance of the sword qi illuminated the sky and the earth, showing a high-level cultivation of qi training. The woods beside the road were first cut with a striking gap by the sword qi.
However, the sword light did not fall on Zhao Polu's head.
Zhao Polu, who was hitting his right elbow on the Taoist's chest on the right, raised his left arm obliquely to the left, the hand-crossbow on his arm flashed a flash, and instantly pierced the Taoist's throat on the left!
The crossbow flew out from the back of the Taoist's neck, carrying a lot of flesh and blood with him!