Guan Zhiyu and other dead Jiuxuanmen disciples sat cross-legged in front of the Jingling Terrace, facing the Xiangtan Lake with tens of thousands of floating corpses, and the black world of ghosts and fog. Their appearance hasn't changed much. He Qingchuan already looks like a middle-aged man, and they still look like young and flying youths.
Immortal cultivators pursue longevity, because they are not immortal, but they can age more slowly than ordinary people.
But now Guan Zhiyu and the others really won't age anymore.
Their time was forever fixed on the appearance of the young generation who stepped into the high-spirited world of cultivating immortals in Guanghan County.
He Qingchuan took off the knife hanging from his waist, and sat down cross-legged behind Guan Zhiyu. He is now taller than Guan Zhiyu. He has practiced heavy swordsmanship for many years and has a strong physique. He sat behind Guan Zhiyu, taller than her by a large margin.
Be it Hezhou, Jun Wanbai or the others, they all just listened to the simple explanations from the masters. The head of Yi Heping’s generation also accepted a disciple with a special status, who was a real master sister. It is impossible to imagine what kind of person Guan Zhiyu was back then.
But He Qingchuan knew.
Guan Zhiyu is their elder sister. When He Qingchuan started, she had already wandered around the rivers and lakes for the sect with a knife in her hand, coming and going in a hurry all year round. It was three months after He Qingchuan was accepted as an apprentice by the head of the sect that he met this real master sister who was not well-known.
At that time, he practiced sword at the main peak of Ganmai. When he was resting, he found a woman holding a knife, her long hair tied up with a cloth strip, and a sharp look in her eyes leaning against a big tree beside her. I don’t know how long she had been looking there. .
At that time, the woman was not wearing the Taoist robe of Jiuxuanmen, and the dusty robe did not look like a serious disciple.
"You can't come in casually here, and get out quickly without permission."
He Qingchuan had just been accepted as a disciple by the head of the sect at that time, and he was very contented. In Yi Heping's words, "It makes people want to punish him and teach him what etiquette is."
"Are you the head's new apprentice?"
The woman ignored his expulsion, leaned against the tree, looked at him with interest, and raised her eyebrows slightly.
Her tone was a little casual, and He Qingchuan felt like he wasn't being taken seriously.
"Get out soon, don't let me do it."
He Qingchuan spoke angrily, and with a flick of his long sword, he drew a beautiful sword flower.
"Soft, mother haw." The woman sneered and stood up lazily, "Why is the bad old man's vision so bad? A young scholar who is so talented is boring enough, but there is a small explosive barrel here. High, but quite tempered."
As she spoke, the woman casually broke off a branch from the tree and held it loosely in her hand.
"Come, come, do it, let me see your weight."
The woman had a smirk on her face.
He Qingchuan has learned a set of sword skills during this period of time. He feels that his strength has greatly increased, and he feels quite proud of himself. Who knows that his sword skills have become "soft" and "mother haw" in this population, and he is so angry No matter what kind of gentleman's demeanor-although he actually doesn't have such a thing-he just did it.
Boom.
For the first time, he was stepped on his back and pressed to the ground, making a muffled sound.
"That's it? Get up."
He Qingchuan got up with a flushed face, and picked up the sword.
Boom.
There was another muffled sound.
"You look fair and clean, and your swordsmanship is so soft, you can't be a girl, right?"
Without her talking, He Qingchuan grabbed the sword again.
Boom.
"Is the old man's eyes covered with something?"
Boom.
"have you eaten?"
…
In just half an hour, He Qingchuan's previous definition of "woman" was completely subverted. What gentleness, what elegance, what restraint... There is still such a woman in the world, whose words are sharper than knives, and whose mouth is more poisonous than Bai Cang. Unwritten custom.
The poison of his tongue and the ruthlessness of his strikes are absolutely rare.
He Qingchuan's arrogance of becoming the head disciple was quickly worn away in just half an hour, between contact with the thick soil again and again. After the bloody anger passed, He Qingchuan clearly realized that the guy in front of him who used a branch to slap himself on the ground over and over again was much stronger than himself, and he was completely like a cat playing with a mouse.
"Get up?"
The woman squatted down beside him, raised her eyebrows, and poked his cheek with a branch.
"I'm not a fool."
He Qingchuan replied weakly.
He is arrogant, but not brainless. What are you doing up? Get up and continue smoking for her? And it's not that He Qingchuan didn't realize that when the other party attacked, he kept it on purpose. Although his identity is unknown, he doesn't look like a bad guy of unknown origin.
"Not promising."
The woman threw away the branch, smiled, stood up and pulled out the knife hanging from her waist.
"See it clearly, it works like this."
There was a sound of reprimand, and the sound of a knife, followed by the light of the knife all over the sky.
That set of swordsmanship was performed by her with a thin knife. The knife was thin and beautiful, but when it was danced in the woman's hand, it didn't show any handsomeness at all. Her long hair fluttered in the wind, and the light of the knife was radiant and mighty.
Like thunder rolling over the sky and sea, like mountains collapsing and wind regretting Tianzhu.
The fallen leaves were rolled up, and the fragile fallen leaves whirled violently, turning into sharp blades. Every ray of knife light seemed to fall from the sky, a rolling fire that showed God's will, and fell with a bang.
That set of sword techniques is called "Send".
The sky and the earth are low, the air is moving everywhere, and the thunder is furious, sending sins to the world.
He Qingchuan understood why she said her swordsmanship was "soft" and "mother chirp".
In the last move, the thin knife flew out of the woman's hand, like a meteor pouring down or a scorching sun falling, and crashed down towards He Qingchuan. He Qingchuan's pupils suddenly constricted, and the hairs all over his body stood up. The moment the knife poured down, he only felt that he saw a blazing sun falling towards him.
Incomparably terrifying, incomparably terrifying.
He Qingchuan rolled over violently, using all his breastfeeding strength, and rolled to the side.
Clang—
The thin knife missed He Qingchuan's head by an inch, and stuck into the ground until it reached the handle.
— fuck you.
A foul word stuck in He Qingchuan's throat, and he almost cursed out directly.
The scorching sun crashing down and the feeling of the saber aura enveloped him was so terrifying that it made people feel like they had just walked around the line of life and death. He Qingchuan felt that he should take back his judgment that this woman should not look like a bad person. She just wanted to kill him with that knife!
"Do you understand?"
The woman herself acted as if nothing happened, with a careless smile on her face, she walked over and drew her knife.
"I think you're crazy..."
He Qingchuan twitched the corners of his mouth, and his back was covered in cold sweat.
The woman was slightly taken aback, and then burst out laughing: "Madman? Idiot, what sect do you think you joined?"
He Qingchuan was confused by her laughter.
What sect? Jiuxuanmen, Jiuxuanmen, the first of the eight sects of the immortal sect, Jiuxuanmen
"Hey, stop laughing."
The woman was out of breath from laughing, and He Qingchuan was so confused by her laughter that he yelled out of embarrassment.
"Go out and find out, where are 100% of the lunatics in the world of cultivating immortals, and 90% of them are?" What a lunatic, Jiuxuanmen!"
"Who are you?"
He Qingchuan shouted towards her back.
"Guan Zhiyu, and..."
The woman turned her head and raised her long and sharp eyebrows.
"Remember to call Senior Sister, don't be so indifferent."
Then that night, the head of the sect led Guan Zhiyu to introduce him to this real elder sister.
Guan Zhiyu changed into the Taoist robe of Jiuxuanmen at this time, and as soon as the master left, she took out a jar of spirits from the ring, and squinted at He Qingchuan: "Junior Sister, come and drink with me."
"... Guan, Zhi, Yu!"
He Qingchuan's reluctant "senior sister" got stuck in his throat, and he swore that he and Guan Zhiyu were incompatible.
At that time, He Qingchuan was just like what Guan Zhiyu said, he looked fair and clean, besides being too arrogant, he actually looked like a childe.
"Say it, don't be too big or small, call me Senior Sister."
Guan Zhiyu raised his head and took a sip of wine, then threw a jar of wine to He Qingchuan.
I couldn't fight and couldn't fight, and I couldn't do anything when I was angry.
He Qingchuan slapped the wine jar angrily, and poured it with his mouth open. As soon as I took it, I choked it all out—this wine is like a burnt knife, why is this guy's wine so strong
The consequence of spouting out the wine was that Guan Zhiyu laughed at him, taking a sip of his junior sister.
Annoyed by the words "Junior Sister" and "Mother Haw Chirp", He Qingchuan simply modified the heavy knife and started to take the path of opening and closing.
After modifying the heavy sword, although Guan Zhiyu still laughed at him all day long, it was still useful. At least Guan Zhiyu looked at his figure and thought it was better not to insult the word "little boy", so he didn't call him junior sister any more. Call me a fool.
Idiots are idiots, no matter what you say, they are better than junior sisters.
In He Qingchuan's memory of the first half of his life, it was Guan Zhiyu who always came and went in a hurry. She carried a knife, and when she returned to the sect, she sometimes wore gray clothes and sometimes wore a black cloak.
Guan Zhiyu's gentleness and elegance don't match her well.
She is a lunatic with a knife, and she will drink on the eaves in the middle of the night, one jar after another, the wine is too strong, and after drinking, she throws the wine jars down from the eaves, and all of them hit He Qingchuan's yard. He Qingchuan practiced his knife in the yard, quickly blocking all the wine jars as usual.
"Idiot, the right side is lighter."
"left."
…
Guan Zhiyu is such a person, a lunatic full of quackery, drinking like a desperado, talking like a street rogue.
Dance the sword when drunk, drink heavily when awake.
Such an arrogant and powerful person...how could he sit in one place so quietly
The author has something to say: He Qingchuan: From a handsome white-faced boy to a mighty man with a sword, the ghost knows what I have gone through.