(Thanks to the LOUISM book friend for the monthly pass.) ）

There was a moon in the cloudy sky, and stars in the vast clear night. The moon is the manifestation of a sword, and the star is the black and white of the chessboard.

The two saints are divided into black and white!

Picking up the starry sky of the Star Pavilion, the situation is anxious and evenly divided, and the black and white son has already ushered in the final battle, but the old Tao Yi Xingchuan sat in the pavilion and muttered to himself in a trance for a long time, but there was no child for a long time.

His expression was dazed, and his eyes were scattered. The old stargazing man in a ragged robe looked a little sad at this moment.

The old man who picked the stars called his senior brother, and he fell into the dusty past for thousands of years, and he couldn't extricate himself for a long time.

After a thousand years of death and madness, the countless memories in his mind are like emeralds, which have long since withered into pieces that cannot be pieced together, and he can't remember the two disciples in the Sword Pavilion that year, who is for the sword, and who is for love.

"Who the hell killed Qinghongluan?" the stargazer kept asking himself.

The world-famous figure who once held the Nanxian Seven-Star Sword and stood on the top of the sword path clouds, now seems to be a lost old man in the chaotic river of memories and keeps asking passers-by who he is and where he comes from.

What kind of desolation should that be?

That's a kind of desolation that ordinary people can experience!

But now the Star Picking Pavilion is not an ordinary person who has been crowned with an ordinary symbol by the ruthless sky and has done nothing all his life, but a sword saint who has been in charge of the Sword Pavilion for thousands of years and has cultivated to become a saint in the way of the sword.

The old man who picks the stars is not an ordinary person!

He is a saint, one of the few saints in the world who leads the realm!

In the eyes of the saints, there may be desolate old men in this world, but there will never be desolate saints!

The silence in the Star Picking Pavilion did not last long with this deadlock, and although the old Taoist Yi Xingchuan could not sort out the right and wrong in the thousands of years of chaotic memory, he figured out another fact.

He doesn't need to care who he is, whether it's a senior brother or a junior brother, or a sword entropy or a sword enthalpy. He only needs to know that whether it is Hongluan or Qingluan, they are no longer in this cold world.

He only needed to know that the person who had been in a state of confusion and had been wandering for thousands of years after being injured was not the head of the Sword Pavilion who could pick up the stars with his hands high in front of him, but himself.

So thousands of years later, he climbed to the top of Kunlun.

He's come to settle a grudge!

He's coming for revenge!

......

The stargazer who had been confused for a long time suddenly fell into his hands.

A brilliant star abruptly landed on the black-and-white galactic chessboard.

This son fell, and countless hot eyes from all over the world suddenly cast them one after another.

Countless people held their breath and stared at the galaxy at the end, looking at the balance of the chess game destroyed by the place where the son fell, and watching the life-and-death battle between the saints at that time, which was separated by thousands of years, and then the robbery!

The final battle of the galaxy chessboard is towards the catastrophe that symbolizes the beginning of destruction.

The world seemed to be quiet at this moment.

When this star chess piece falls, it is not just a simple robbery, it represents the will of stargazers who have been sleeping for thousands of years, and it also represents a long-overdue war letter!

The stargazer finally gave his senior brother a war letter!

......

The princess of the demon clan with dark clouds and rainy days above her head instead of the night starry river chessboard could not see the robbery and war book, in fact, Huang'er, who was in the sea of raccoon flowers and endless sword forests, took care of the others, because her mission on this trip had not yet been completed, and because in the wasteland sword forest, a Buddhist monk holding a golden lotus appeared three hundred meters in front of her.

Before the green plum boiled wine, Huang'er, who rarely went out of the Heavenly South Cloud Mountains, had never seen this monk.

But she had heard of the monk's name.

In the world where the six-character door is prevalent, the same generation of Tianjiao is like a new lotus blooming after a rain, but the young leaders who can be mentioned and commented on by Tianji Pavilion can not be more than the number of hands.

Coincidentally, the princess of the demon clan who was born with the blood of a god phoenix and the monk from the west who crossed the sea are two of them.

Torrential rain drops hit the sword forest.

But he couldn't get close to the body of the Divine Phoenix.

Huang'er, who was dressed in strange clothes and showed white and slender legs, looked at the monk with some vigilance.

Knowing that the monk was from the Western world, Huang'er couldn't help but think of a story that her father had told her before going down the mountain.

A story that no one has ever told in this world.

The story goes that countless years ago, a monk lay down a butcher's knife under the Bodhi tree and became a Buddha.

After the troubled times, the Buddha appeared in the world and crossed the world.

The Buddha picked a flower on the bank of the Sansheng River.

The Buddha crossed the sea by flowers.

The Sansheng River rolled up huge waves.

There is Kunhua Peng to cover the clouds and cover the sun, and he opened his mouth to swallow the Buddha and flowers that crossed the sea.

That Buddha has thousands of Dharma phases to surrender to Jinpeng, and finally flew to the West in a divine beast.

Since then, Na Peng has been the guardian of the Buddha Gate and Lingshan, listening to the golden lantern chanting Buddhism and Wanyuan......

Day after day, the devoured flower on the other side of the Buddha finally attained the soul.

After being conceived in Jinpeng's body, the spirit gave birth to a green and red luan phoenix.

That Luan Feng was born with two spirits.

Buddhism has a poem that says: Jinpeng gives birth to Luan Feng, and Luan Feng has two spirits. Green is the other side of the leaves, red is the other side of the flowers.

......

Huang'er didn't know how Qinghongluan left the Western Realm.

She only remembered that no matter the flowers or leaves on the other side, the Twin Spirit Luanfeng who landed in the Peerless Cloud Ridge was always her aunt.

Whether it is Qingluan or Hongluan, they are all her aunts whose blood is thicker than water.

Father said that year, her aunt broke into the Kunlun Seventy-two Strange Peaks and never came out again.

My aunt is dead!

Kill the hand of the head of the Sword Pavilion!

She was ordered to come here to find her aunt's relics.

She glanced indifferently at the monk from the Western Buddhist sect and ignored it.

She pulled out an ancient sword.

The ancient sword slashed through the palm of his hand.

The blood of the divine phoenix flowed down the body of the ancient sword, and finally dripped down.

Blood dripped down the wasteland, staining the rain beneath his feet bright red.

The bright red rain began to flow along the wasteland like the meridians and veins in the human body, bypassing the dense sea of sword forests and flowers, and converging into the distance.

The monk holding the golden lotus in the distance pronounced the Buddha's horn with a thought.

Before the Buddha's voice dissipated, the monk saw the golden lotus in his hand emitting a golden light.

Naturally, it was not the sound of the Buddha horn that touched the golden lotus in the palm of the hand, nor the torrential rain or the ancient sword forest all over the mountains, but the blood flowing in the sword forest.

The blood of the Divine Phoenix flowed through the sword forest like a depiction of the eight veins of the Strange Meridian, until it finally converged in one place.

The blood-stained dirt began to loosen and soften, and the trembling of the ancient swords around it became more and more deafening.

So in the continuous rain curtain, a flame light broke through the earth and went straight into the sky.

A sword that rose into the sky with the light of the flames, and a brilliant and colorful sword came into view.

The monk frowned.

......

A terrible phoenix roared in the vast wasteland.

The brilliant sword dragged the long tail of fire and kept whirling in the gloomy sky, like a disoriented luan bird looking for its way home.

Huang'er looked at the gorgeous sword like a phoenix's fire tail hovering in the sky, and her bright and cunning eyes revealed a trace of nostalgia.

She misses her aunt who died in a foreign land for thousands of years, and misses the sword that her aunt left behind.

Huang'er, who was deeply touched, stretched out her palm.

So the long-lost phoenix tail sword found its way home.

(PS: Although it's been a bit stuck for a while, the plot is still satisfactory when the speed slows down.) The story of the Sword Pavilion has a far-reaching impact, not only in the generation of star-picking and stargazing, but not too much is revealed here. Thanks to the book friends who have been able to stay away during my Kavin break, the plot is smoother now, and I will strive to have another update in the evening. ）