Liao Gan sat in the coffin with his head covered in dirt, still in shock, looking palely at the point of the knife that was almost stuck to the bridge of his nose. The chill from the tip of the knife forced him to break out in a cold sweat in the late winter and early spring weather.
A little red blood trickled down from the tip of his nose.
Liao Gan's lips trembled, and for a long time, the sound of "fuck" stuck in his throat, but he didn't dare to curse out.
"Hold."
Liu Wuyan cursed out.
After smashing the coffin board, she sensed that there was someone behind the coffin. Her knife seemed extremely sharp, but in fact she knew it well. On the contrary, the dead fat man who came out of the coffin let out a sudden cry of killing a pig, which made her almost lose her grasp for a moment.
Otherwise, how could this fat man be as simple as a little oily skin.
"Grandma..."
Liao Gan was almost on the verge of crying, and burst into tears.
"Excuse me, take the knife back first, okay? If you don't take it back, I'm going to die, fat man."
The blood dripping from the tip of the fat man's nose quickly turned black, and some dense black veins began to appear on his round white face. It looks a bit sinister.
Liu Wuyan's knife has a narrow blade, but it is much longer than ordinary knives, and there is a layer of cold light flowing on the knife. The overall knife is extremely simple, without any fancy decorations, and the handle is also solid black. Such a knife looks very inconspicuous, and it doesn't seem like a woman likes to use it.
But facing this knife, the fat man hesitated to move.
As a disciple of the Kyushu Bank, Liao Qian has no cultivation, no talent, so he has a pair of self-proclaimed "wisdom eyes" that are so sharp that he can recognize all kinds of treasures in the world.
The knife held in Liu Wuyan's hand has a nice name that doesn't match the extremely simple blade, it's called "Liu Shang".
This is one of the masterpieces of Xiao Ouyang, the master craftsman at that time.
When Master Ouyang forged this knife, he had only one purpose, to forge a knife that could suppress all evils.
——Right now, Liao Gan unraveled the coffin strangely.
Although he didn't know exactly what was going on, but at any rate this dead fat man was someone he knew in the Prisoner's Pagoda. Knowing some basics, Liu Wuyan snorted coldly, and withdrew the knife anyway.
As soon as the "Liu Shang" was withdrawn, Liao Qian was obviously relieved.
"what happened?"
Liu Wuyan looked down at Liao Gan who was sitting in the coffin, the black veins on his face had not completely disappeared.
"What's going on?" As soon as the knife was removed, Liao Gan obediently crawled out of the coffin. He patted the dirt on his body indiscriminately, with a mournful face, "I want to ask the fuck, what's going on."
Monk Mingxin frowned and looked at Liao Qian. He also had some impressions of Liao Qian, a disciple of the Kyushu bank who had met once in the space of the Difen War. But at that time, Liao Qian gave him the feeling that he was an extremely ordinary Kyushu bank disciple, ordinary and not high in cultivation.
However, at this moment, Liao Gan, who crawled out of the coffin, vaguely made him feel a little uneasy.
Monk Mingxin is a Buddhist disciple of the Sanskrit Sect. He has practiced in Sanskrit and Buddha singing since he was a child. His sacred heart is clear and his spiritual consciousness is extremely pure and keen. Facing some things, there are some extremely incredible intuitions. The current Liao Qian gave him a strange and dangerous feeling.
For no reason, Monk Mingxin felt that if Liu Wuyan's saber had been cut down just now, this fat disciple from the Kyushu Bank might not be as powerless as he had shown himself.
Without moving his expression, Monk Mingxin turned the beads slightly, as if unconsciously holding one of the beads that was slightly larger than the others.
Liao Gan, who crawled out of the coffin, lowered his head and patted the dirt, then raised his head and pulled the clothes on his chest.
"That's all. Is there a place to sit and talk?"
There was a small tear on Liao Qian's torn clothes, which looked like it was pierced by a sword as his chest. After the tear in the clothes, there was a black wound on Liao Qian's chest, the length of the sword.
Liu Wuyan and Monk Mingxin looked at each other, but did not speak.
Liao Gan grinned, the grinning grin on his face just now could no longer be maintained. He grinned this time, and the smile he showed was ten thousand times uglier than crying.
"You can't talk in such a ghostly place, can you?"
In the mass grave, black crows hovered in the sky, still chirping non-stop. As the sky darkened, the figures of the crows melted into the night, making it difficult to distinguish, as if the place was occupied by a group of crows for a while.
Just like the countless dead souls buried here, they wailed in this dark moment.
………………………………………
In a small farmer's house at the root of the city wall.
A dim yellow lamp was faintly placed on the table, dimly illuminating the room half-lit. Liao Gan took off the upper half of his clothes, shirtless, and sat uncomfortably in front of the table.
Liu Wuyan and Monk Mingxin looked at the penetrating wound on his body by the firelight.
The man with the sword was extremely steady, and the long sword entered directly from behind, pierced through the chest, and penetrated the entire heart. Not only was it not as good, but the person who did it turned the sword around, completely strangling his heart veins. And Liu Wuyan's previous judgment was not wrong, Liao Gan still had traces of the puppet control technique on his body.
During the time they followed Wang Jingzhi, Liao Gan was indeed too dead to die.
But later, contrary to everyone's expectations, he actually got up from the coffin and came back to life.
—Maybe not count as "live".
Centering on the front and rear sword wounds, dense black veins appeared and disappeared with Liao Qian's breathing, spreading all over his upper body and spreading all the way down to the neck.
It doesn't look like a good thing.
Liu Wuyan pulled out her own "flow cup", and inserted it directly into the middle of the low table in front of Liao Gan with a "swipe".
"Say it."
She folded her arms across her chest.
Glancing at the "Liu Shang" on the table, Liao Gan sighed with a mournful face, and stretched out his hand to touch his waist.
As soon as he stretched out his hand, the Buddhist beads in Monk Mingxin's hand turned slightly.
"Wait, that Buddhist brother over there, don't act like you are ready to chant sutras to suppress me at any time." Liao Qian looked at the monk Mingxin who was turning the beads with horror, "Handle the precious jewels with care, don't mess around with them." Lose it."
Liu Wuyan glanced at Monk Mingxin and signaled him not to move for now.
Liao Gan twitched the corners of his mouth, put his hands on the table with a blank face.
He really wanted to smash it angrily, but he caught a glimpse of "Liu Shang" out of the corner of his eye.
— A short knife was gently placed on the table.
The author has something to say: I don't know why, but as soon as I arrived in Liaogan, the air was full of joy.
Just think hahaha.