I was born in a special family, I didn't have a mother since I was a child, only a father who didn't smile, but I didn't think it was strange, and the two of us had a good life. But soon I realized that my family was different from other people's homes, and when other people's children were playing, I began to learn all kinds of things.

Starting from the most basic horse steps, there can be no mistakes in the posture, you can't move, and if you move slightly, you will be beaten by the bamboo strips, which is very painful and painful. But I didn't cry out about the pain, and I didn't feel hard, since my father wanted me to learn, then I would learn. For as long as I can remember, I have heard him tell the story of his ancestors, which is a legend about "silver" that has been passed down for a hundred years, flying to the sky, omnipotent, ever-changing, and no one knows what he really looks like. My father is the "silver" of this generation, and I will be the next generation, and everything I have learned is to inherit this name.

Since it is something that has been passed down from generation to generation, then go and learn it well, and my father, and even my father's father, just like that. Flying claws, round-headed swords, arm guards, light skills, concealment, internal strength, talismans, and all kinds of strange props, things to learn can be piled up in a warehouse. These awkward names alone can make an ordinary person dizzy, but for me it's just a daily routine.

When I was practicing, my father would sometimes guide me, but no matter what I did well or not, he would only tell me what to do correctly, and his expression would always be so flat, neither distant nor close. I used to wonder if he couldn't cry or laugh, until one time I accidentally smashed myself unconscious while practicing a sword, and in a daze, I saw my father's sad face and tears in his eyes. But when I woke up completely, I found that he was still sitting calmly on the edge of my bed, and said that it would be good to wake up, be careful next time, maybe I was wrong, well, it must be.

When I was a little older, my father would take me around and tell me how to get along with people little by little. I admire my father for this, whether it is an official dressed orthodoxy or an aunt who sells vegetables on the side of the road, he can quickly chat with people. It turns out that he can cry and laugh, but looking at his smile, I always feel that it is a mask, and there is still that calm and somewhat stereotyped expression underneath.

Oh, by the way, taking me around also means honing my martial arts, whether it's a monster in the wilderness, or a ** ruffian in a corner of the city, my father always gives me tasks in advance, so that I can find the target and fight down on my own. Although I knew that he was watching me secretly, I still couldn't find where he was, after all, everything I was taught by him, and it was normal to not find him. Sometimes the tasks were difficult, sometimes they were easy, I completed most of them, and a few of them failed. My father will not be happy because the task is completed, nor will he be angry because the task has failed, but will seriously help me summarize the successful experience and the reasons for the failure. Gradually, I became more proficient in the use of various techniques, and then I killed people for the first time.

I don't remember exactly what the target looked like, except that it was a young man, probably a bad guy, at least from my previous investigations, the neighbors and even the children who were not older than me hated him. Addicted to gambling, he has no proper job, and when he is short of money, he relies on his own kung fu to rob and steal everywhere, and he is a bully. Because of a hysterical rant from a mother holding a baby: "Why don't people like that die?" I changed the original task of just interrupting his hands and feet. As he walked out of the casino triumphantly, I shot him in the throat with a crossbow arrow that had been quenched.

What was it like to kill someone for the first time? I asked my father, and he said he couldn't remember it, so he asked me to go and read the book. The symptoms of nausea, not being able to sleep, vomiting, fear of light, etc., which were written in the book, did not appear in me at all, and my heart was just calm, as indifferent as swatting a fly to death. Seeing my condition, my father didn't say anything, and he never said much about my mission anyway.

It's time for me to go to school, Sunday school, this kind of peaceful routine is pretty good, although I don't quite understand the thoughts of children my age, but it's not bad to play with them, just to give me a glimpse of ordinary life.

In this way, as the days passed, I repeated the routine of going to school, practicing, and tasks, year after year. My father would sometimes go out for a while, and I wouldn't hear from him for a while, and then my life would be a little smoother, because he couldn't study anything without me until I was 13 years old.

My father became more reticent when he returned from a mission, and I began to really accept the killer's business, not as silver, of course. Everything is so that I can truly inherit the title of "Silver", which will not change due to the changes of the times. Little by little, the crystallization of countless ancestral experiences has been poured into my brain, and once I have fully accepted these experiences, I will become the new "silver". However, when my father was still alive, I had not really become silver, and silver could only be a person, and that would not change.

I'm getting more and more comfortable with killing, and the success rate of missions is getting higher and higher, so if I can really do the next task and never miss it, I guess I can be regarded as worthy of the name of "silver".

Hired by the gang, I went to assassinate the leader of the rival gang, and as I expected, succeeded and retreated safely. But what happened later was beyond my expectations, and when I retreated, I met a black-haired boy with a sword, who seemed to be practicing in a no-man's land. I was passing by, but he took one look at me and followed. His light skills are very good, I can't get rid of him for a while, and I can't get rid of him several times when I accelerate and change direction, but I can't get rid of him with my hidden breath. Later, I was in a hurry and used a clone combat technique that was not very proficient, but the man was just stunned, and he successfully recognized the real body and chased after him.

Anyway, there is no one in the wilderness, so just lie down and leave. Thinking so, I rolled over, threw a dart, drew his sword to block, and then dodged and swung at me. To be honest, his knife skills are indeed good, and the energy coming from the knife also gives me a familiar feeling, but his experience is still insufficient. In the first minute, the momentum was like a rainbow, the offensive was fierce, the second minute was tied by me, the third minute ate a thunder burst charm from me, and the face was disgraced, in the fourth minute, I used the clone again, and successfully made him scramble, and in the fifth minute, I slapped him on the ground with a big sword and spit blood.

The winner has been decided, to kill or not to kill? Well? What is the matter with the yin qi that appeared in a moment just now, it actually makes me a little creepy, this person is too strange, just forget it, just in case I hide it and observe it. This time the concealment was successful, but his reaction was even stranger, was I broke his brain, and kept laughing wildly. This pranayama posture should be "Qilin Gong", no wonder the internal qi is so familiar, but it is also a little different from my family kung fu, it seems that he has no time to chase me, go home.

Well, I think I didn't kill him that time was the biggest mistake since I was born, how can I meet him three times in the last five missions. When he saw me, he didn't say anything, he chased first, and then he started fighting, each time there was a significant improvement compared to the last time, the last time I actually took nearly half an hour to injure him, and even the trap I had arranged in advance was resolved, and it seems that it will be difficult to kill him in the future. For the sake of not interfering with my mission, every time I wait for me to successfully retreat before I do it, I think it is a special training for him.

I think I'm a little used to this kind of daily life, killing people, meeting him, starting to fight, beating him, going home, and the cycle repeats, occasionally I haven't met him a few times, and I'm still a little scared, something is wrong all over my body, it must be an illusion, I just regret that the means I prepared were not used, it must be like this.

Before I knew it, I was 14 years old, and my life, which was unimaginable to others and ordinary to me, had finally been shattered - my father, who also had extraordinary strength compared to generations of silver, had an incurable disease.