Before the Tianshu Mausoleum, they hadn't seen each other for several years. After that, they were strangers, and it could even be said that they turned against each other. But after all, they were masters and apprentices. They had lived together in the old temple in Xining Town for more than ten years, and they knew each other very well. Some of the most subtle movements, even the change of eyes, can know what the other person is thinking, this is the so-called feeling.
Shang Xingzhou felt Chen Changsheng's mood when he pulled out the sword from the flower pot, so he asked that question.
But after getting Chen Changsheng's confirmation, he didn't relax, let alone complacent, but asked another question.
"Do you know where this is?"
Chen Changsheng is the dean of the Orthodox Academy, and he has lived here for many years, but he really doesn't know what this red building is - the Orthodox Academy is too big, and the place where he studied and lived these years was limited to the woods and collection of books near the imperial city. Near the building, it is not one-tenth the size of the Orthodox Academy.
Shang Xingzhou said: "This is Fenglin Pavilion, and I moved those two rows of maple trees from the Jiaoshu back then."
Chen Changsheng thought to himself, no wonder they looked familiar.
"Merisa is my friend."
Looking at his face, Shang Xingzhou said with complicated emotions: "He has always admired you very much. I don't quite understand it, but now I can understand it."
Hearing these words, Chen Changsheng didn't know whether he should feel proud and relieved, or let the sourness in his heart freely infiltrate, so he could only keep silent.
What's the point of saying such things at this moment? Or was it because Shang Xingzhou confirmed that Chen Changsheng's sword was almost used up, and thought that he would fail or even die, that's why he felt emotional? But what is so important about the origin of this Fenglin Pavilion
Shang Xingzhou turned to look outside the building and said, "The last battle that year took place here."
That year was the night when the massacre at the Orthodox Academy happened more than 20 years ago.
Fenglin Pavilion is so eye-catching red, I don't know if it is because it was stained with too much blood that night.
"Many people died here that night, many young people, they were as good as you, maybe even better than you."
Shang Xingzhou withdrew his gaze, looked at Chen Changsheng and said, "I've seen too much life and death in my life, and I really don't care anymore, so don't expect me to soften my heart."
The meaning of this sentence is very clear.
If Chen Changsheng still refused to admit defeat, he would not be afraid to personally behead Chen Changsheng by the sword.
Chen Changsheng didn't admit defeat, didn't even say a word, and remained silent.
He raised his right hand, with the dagger in front of his eyes, the mud gradually fell, and the cold light gradually grew stronger.
Shang Xingzhou understood his choice and walked over to him.
A very distinct footprint appeared on the floor.
Every footprint glows and then burns.
In the blue sky after the clouds cleared, the sun was extremely bright, shining on the Orthodox Academy.
The Fenglin Pavilion shone with dazzling light, as if it was really burning. The maple trees outside swayed with the wind, like tongues of fire.
This is the fire formed by the burning of thick blood for countless years. It exudes a faint burnt smell, and it has a heroic and awe-inspiring feeling.
The blood fire made Shang Xingzhou's figure extremely tall, like a god and demon.
This is his life, and it is also the life of Wang Zhice, Mrs. Tang and others.
They will not give up their ideas and persistence because of anything.
There was a clear whistle.
There was a strong wind in Fenglin Pavilion.
The maple tree shook even more violently, as if a tongue of fire was spewing out, and it was about to burn to the sky.
Shang Xingzhou slashed down with the sword in both hands, bringing out a stream of blood.
The blood fire is bright, but his figure is gloomy and cold. The contrast between the two is very vivid.
There was a loud bang, and the blood splashed into countless sparks, flying everywhere in Fenglin Pavilion, igniting the floor and pillars.
The dagger flew away through the window, and Chen Changsheng retreated more than ten steps, spitting out a mouthful of blood.
Shang Xingzhou raised his sword and walked towards him again.
There was no panic on Chen Changsheng's face.
He said to Shang Xingzhou, "Admit defeat, Master."
He's been saying it since the very beginning.
In the lake, in front of the library, and in many places, he would say a word when he picked up a sword.
Then, those swords were chopped off by Shang Xingzhou.
Now, his last sword is gone, and he is still saying such things.
There was no mocking look on Shang Xingzhou's face, nor was there any confusion.
It seemed that he knew where Chen Changsheng's confidence came from.
Chen Changsheng raised his right hand.
There was nothing there but air and fire.
Can he also conjure a sword from the air
The sound of air being cut suddenly sounded not far away.
Chick, a cold light passed through the broken window and then disappeared.
The short sword returned to Chen Changsheng's hand.
Immediately afterwards, countless piercing sounds resounded all over the Orthodox Academy.
The voice was very sharp, and it naturally had a sharp feeling.
The sound of piercing the air became more and more dense, like a rainstorm, but more like arrows falling like a rainstorm.
Countless sword lights lit up from the bottom of plum blossoms, inside trees, and in the water.
Lao Mei was neatly cut off, looking like an incense burner that had been burning for three days and three nights.
Ten holes appeared on the broken ancient tree, which really looked like the flute used by the gods.
There were countless ripples in the lake, as if hundreds of fat carps were struggling to swim upward from the putrid mud bottom.
Those swords hidden by Tang Thirty-Six in the Orthodox Academy.
Those swords that Chen Changsheng found one by one.
Those swords that were shot down by Shang Xingzhou.
burst into the sky.
Fly to Fenglin Pavilion.
Dozens of swords came to Chen Changsheng's side.
Shang Xingzhou looked at him and said, "Not enough."
Chen Changsheng tapped the dagger lightly with his finger.
A clear and crisp sword cry scattered around, carrying dozens of cold and extremely pure sword intents.
With a soft snap, Shang Xingzhou's bun broke.
The seemingly ordinary ebony bun was disconnected at this time, which was absolutely extraordinary.
Countless cold lights rushed out from inside, like a big river, and there was a sense of joy.
The wind was strong, and the shaking maple trees were chopped into pieces, dancing wildly into red debris and flying around.
The eaves of the pavilions were cut into countless straight lines, and the red walls and columns were cut into countless mottled lines.
The flame that is about to be ignited by the sun also needs to be attached to objective things.
If there is no skin left, tall buildings will collapse, how can blood and fire be sustained
The tongue of flame that scorched the sky gradually disappeared, and the color gradually changed, until finally it disappeared into nothingness.
The sky shines on the dilapidated Fenglin Pavilion.
Thousands of swords quietly floated around Chen Changsheng.
The cold and terrifying sword intent filled the world.
There is a faint connection between these sword intents, flowing and turning, endless, giving people a feeling that they cannot be broken.
Chen Changsheng looked at Shang Xingzhou and asked, "Is it enough now?"
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