There is an immortal mountain in the northern region, which is called: Baiyun Mountain.

The fairy mist in the mountain is shrouded, the four seasons are like spring, there is a courtyard hidden in the hinterland, admired by the four directions of the northern region, and ten thousand repairs worship.

this day.

In the secret realm of the back mountain, the Qingxu Dao Chief was restless, frowning and pinching his fingers, and there seemed to be a voice in the dark that guided his gaze to the rolling red dust.

"Northwest?"

Qingxu looked in the northwest direction through the clouds and mist, and after frowning slightly, the figure disappeared into the cave.

As the saying goes, the immortals ride the wind, and the traces are half moss

......

In November, the north wind raged.

It is rare for Jinyang City to have heavy snowfall, goose feather-like snow flakes, accompanied by the cold northwest wind dancing and circling, every household closes their doors and windows, and three or two figures hurriedly walk through the street, and soon disappear in the wind and snow.

In the corner under the eaves outside the inn, there was a little beggar of eleven or twelve years old, wrapped in a tattered old black cotton coat, fluffy and dirty hair mixed with some firewood and grass in the forest, which was tied to the top of his head at will.

In the peaceful and prosperous times, such beggars are not common on the streets of Linjiang, and the simple people who are not short of food and clothing are naturally a little sympathetic, and most of the people who enter and exit the inn will throw one or two copper plates in front of him, and the little beggar trembled with his slender fingers, tremblingly picked it up and put it into his arms, and a few hoarse and slight words of thanks came out of his mouth.

A few days ago, thousands of members of the Chen family in Linjiang City died tragically overnight. ”

"Of course I heard it, it was the first clan in Linjiang, it was miserable, and the traders who heard it say that dozens of carriages wrapped in white cloth pulled back and forth forty or fifty times before all the corpses were cleaned up. ”

"Iniquity!"

"This has to be a big enemy, full of young and old, and no one has been spared......"

"It's horrible......"

In the inn, on the table against the window, a group of people gathered around and whispered.

Linjiang Chen, a big family that has existed for thousands of years, legend has it that there was a fairy bird stele descending, a thousand years later, the Chen family has become the first cultivation family around Linjiang, and even ranked in the forefront of the entire imperial world, just such an unattainable wealthy family, but ten days ago, was quietly wiped out overnight, if this is said, who dares to believe it?

The people in the house talked a lot, but they didn't know that the little beggar outside the house clenched his hands tightly, his knuckles were white, and his little face buried in the collar was full of hideousness, and people were already in tears.

The little beggar is Chen Yusheng, the "remnant" of the Chen family who fled all the way from Linjiang City to Jinyang.

On the way to escape, he was at a loss, there was a lot of talk everywhere, this feeling of grief and hatred, he didn't know how long he could suppress it, and the blood feud of a thousand unjust souls was what a kind of horror that was the enemy of the whole world.

In these days, the scene of that night flashed in his mind from time to time, the laughter of the family playing around Xiao Bao'er, the appearance of his father running into the courtyard door with blood and roaring, and the trace of attachment and reluctance in his eyes when his mother pushed him into the well.

The snowflakes got into his collar, and the cold chill pulled him back to reality, and he warned himself that he could no longer be immersed in grief, and that only by surviving could he hope for revenge and get his mother and Bao'er back.

All this is too far away for the time being, and the ancestors who are as strong as the peak of psychic spirit are powerless to resist, and finally die tragically in the hands of that group of people, once the group of demons in the darkness perceive his existence and kill him, it is as simple as pinching an ant to death.

He didn't know who those black-clothed killers were, but he knew exactly why those demons came, the patriarch's helpless scream before he died, and now it was still in his ears, everything came from that mysterious stone tablet, which was his only clue.

He started to keep running the exercises, otherwise he would have frozen to death on this cold snowy night.

Late at night, the wind and snow were still blowing, and the surroundings of the inn became pitch black, leaving only a lying figure at the door, and the heavy snow continued to cover him.

The next morning, the sky cleared, and the sun poured out on the earth.

Xiao Er yawned, pulled the deadbolt with sleepy eyes, between the doors, the sunlight was a little dazzling, rubbing his eyes and habitually looking at the side of the door, the person was stunned, there was a lying snowman.

It seemed to be awakened by the sound of him opening the door, and after a while, the snowman began to squirm, his body shook slightly, and the snow on both sides slid down, revealing a small black figure, raising his head to look at the sluggish Xiao Er, and burying his little face in the collar.

Xiao Er came back to his senses, hurriedly ran into the store, and after a while, he came out with a worn-out quilt and a broom in his hand, and after cleaning up the snow around Chen Yusheng, he wrapped his body tightly with the quilt.

"Thank you!"

He raised his head to look at Xiao Er, his voice slightly hoarse.

Shaking his head, Xiao Er saw the appearance of the beggar clearly, a small fox face with a big palm, listening to the voice of a boy, but he was much more delicate than the little girl, but the big eyes that were hidden under the dirty hair were full of dead silence at this time.

Xiao Er couldn't help sighing, feeling in his heart that the little beggar had a big life, and there was some pity in his heart, but he shook his head helplessly slightly, got up and turned back to the store to start busy.

The number of pedestrians on the street gradually increased, and people nearby would pass by, and they would glance at Chen Yusheng, and when they saw that he was still alive, they didn't know whether to rejoice for him or grieve for him.

"It's almost over, it's time to leave. Chen Yusheng muttered to himself.

Tightening the shabby quilt on his body, his stomach gurgled, just as he looked down and thought about how to get some food, a pair of black silk cotton shoes appeared in his eyes, and he raised his head in panic, and saw an old Taoist standing in front of him, his ruddy face revealing an inexplicable surprise.

The Taoist is sixty or seventy years old, with a thin figure, gray eyebrows, a thin green silk robe, slightly abrupt in this cold winter day, pale hair tied in a bun on the top of his head, inserted a jade hosta, scattered a few wisps swaying lightly with the breeze, anyone who sees it, has to praise, "What a pair of fairy wind bones." ”

The face is peaceful, and the folds of old age do not make people feel the twilight, but invisibly add a supreme majesty, which is daunting. Although he can't see his cultivation clearly, it is estimated that no fool will think that he is a mortal.

The old and the young looked at each other calmly, and this strange scene attracted passers-by to stop sideways.

After a long time.

The old Taoist stretched out his hand to him with a kind face, Chen Yusheng's eyes flashed a trace of hesitation, but for some reason, he couldn't help but hand out his cold and white little hand, and the old Taoist took him up like this and led him into the inn.