Wen Mu touched his nose, he felt so bad! But I still follow Liuli, after all, everyone is going to Angola Ruz City. It's just that I don't have a reliable horse, and this question is worth pondering.

From early autumn to late autumn, in early winter, the wind leaves slowly enough, because there is no hurry. Because he was not in a hurry, Wen Mu followed very steadily. Feng Li is because he is not old enough, and there is no way to join the army if he goes, yes, Feng Li wants to join the army. Wen Mu is not in a hurry because there is no war, and the marshal and general still have the personal guards by his side, as well as his senior brother, and there is no need to worry about safety, so he is at ease.

The night of early winter still carries the gloom of autumn, and there must also be the coldness of winter. The wind howled angrily in the wilderness, shouting, raging, strung around, swept away a person and thing that blocked and dared to resist him, and the world was vast, leaving only the wind and rain in between.

The wind stood on the top of the mountain, turning and moving on a three-foot square, and at the moment when the wind was whistling to take it away, he firmly fell his steps again and again. Turning his body steadily, swinging the knife firmly, he still slashed out according to the previous trajectory in the strong wind, and the knife was still silent. But at the tip of the mountain, the knife practice is not chaotic at all, the whole body is against the wind, and it is very hard to fight against the cliff beyond the top of the mountain, after a quarter of an hour, the wind is already sweating profusely, he gasps and continues to swing the knife, calm and not hesitating. This is the habit he began in the third year of Jiatu, at that time, no matter how hard he tried, he could not make any more progress, no more weight, no matter how fast he was, helpless and annoyed, his figure came to the top of the mountain outside the camp lightly, with his back against the mountain rock, looking at the night sky where his father and mother were sleeping, and his heart was melancholy.

Maybe the wind came too fast, or maybe he didn't pay attention to it. When he woke up, the raging wind had already swept away, trying to take him away. Feng Li calmly and quickly hugged a large stone, and grabbed a protruding stone on the other side, and steadied himself. When he calmed down, he was ecstatic for no reason, isn't this a good opportunity to practice his own knives! So stabilize the body, draw the knife, swing the knife, and make progress little by little, such a surprise makes the wind cry in his heart, and let the storm come more violently! A gust of wind roared followed by lightning and thunder, and the rain poured down, and the wind kissed the rain, but the knife grew faster and faster!

The rain is getting heavier and heavier, and the body is getting heavier and heavier, and the hands can't be lifted at all; The wind is getting more and more unrestrained, and if the footsteps weigh a thousand pounds, you can't take a single step.

The wind is always formless and uncertain, coming and going without a trace, the rain blurs the vision, interferes with the hearing, the surrounding qiē is chaotic, the eyes do not work, the ears do not work, the hands and feet are slippery and unsteady, the hair is an obstacle, the clothes are an obstacle, and every qiē is an enemy of himself. The wind is getting slower and slower, the rain soaks the whole body, soaks the body and mind, the wind passes through the body, pierces the heart, and the knife slowly sticks to the wind little by little, sticks to the wind, relieves the wind, and relieves the rain. So, the wind, which becomes tangible, and the rain, becomes layered. The knife slowly clings to the wind, converting along it, and the knife dissolves the rain and swims with it.

The tangible enters the invisible, and the intangible becomes tangible. There is no transformation, there is no amorphous form, there is no permanent form, what is in the heart, there is nothing but self. This **, the sword of Fengli, even said, the state of mind, into the realm of things, truly reach the realm of moving with the enemy and doing whatever you want! There are no tricks to win, but they are still waiting to be stabilized!

So, the wind left the night of the windy wind, the raging rain, and the mad love......

In the years to come, listening to others praising Fengli's calm and perseverance, Wen Mu's eyes would involuntarily appear that night when the wind was raging, the torrential rain was like a note, and the gentle and firm figure between the three feet on the top of the mountain took how many days and nights to practice that, steady, calm and confident.

The rest of the journey is still silent and noisy, silence is the wind, and the noise is Wenmu. Along the way, Wen Mu's heart finally slowly let go, because along the way, he saw the nostalgia and longing in Fengli's eyes, missing this land, missing the people and things here, warm because of the nostalgia, and remembering and loving because of the missing. It is precisely because of this reassurance that Wen Mu's words became more and more. Along the way, Feng Li became more and more speechless to the people who followed him, Wen Mu, Wen Mu, shouldn't it be gentle and quiet, Mu Ran is peaceful, how can it be so, noisy......

But I definitely won't say it, because several times I passed by the town, the two of them bought things that Wen Mu did, and the mind seemed to be inconvenient for him to communicate. Feng Li recalled that he really hadn't spoken to him along the way. But except for the fact that he asked his name at the beginning, he didn't ask himself anything again, how did he think that he was a mute, and he couldn't help but be mischievous, and decided not to speak all the way.

Wen Mu, who was careful and concise, knew what Fengli had said about him, and he knew Fengli's pranks, and his "noisy" voice was sprinkled all the way.

The journey of ease and leisure was broken in the early morning of one day, Fengli noticed the sound of shouting and crying in the wind, listened intently for a while, and confirmed that he had heard correctly. Looking at Wen Mu next to him in the morning because he didn't wake up. Feng Li kicked him on his horse, and Ruri rushed out like a fly. The white horse of unknown breed was stimulated by the wind, and followed like a string, and Wen Mu on the horse was not on guard, and immediately broke away from the horse, and he woke up suddenly in a drowsy state, and quickly twisted his waist in the air, and flew off the horse's back, and his eyes turned, and he immediately followed the wind.

The speed of the glass is too fast, and it only takes a few breaths from getting up to the location of the sound in the wind. Feng Li's eyes were ruined houses and scattered fire houses, and a dozen or so Gatu cavalry were wreaking havoc. The hoes and pots of the village name were obviously inferior to the swords and guns of the Gatu soldiers, and they were defeated and retreated. A captain of the captain of the Jia Tubing pulled the thirteen or fourteen-year-old delicate and pitiful little girl outside, all the way with broken arms and broken hands, I can't tell whether it is my parents, brothers or villagers. The little girl was already trembling, and the Gatu soldiers clamped her under her armpit, and the Gatu knife slashed like a mountain, and the attack was unambiguous.

Feng Li drew his knife and went straight to the little girl, and when the Nagatu soldier heard the sound behind him, he immediately dealt with the villagers in front of him ruthlessly, and turned around with his knife. Generally speaking, his reaction and speed are definitely fast enough, but the wind is too fast, especially under anger, it is even faster. Even though there was still a long way to go from the little girl there, what the Nagathu soldier saw when he turned around was the Gatu saber enlarged in front of him, and then, there was no more. After the blood in her neck gushed out, she fell to the ground in vain, and the little girl fell to the ground with a limp of her body. The girl's face, which had been bloodless and pale from fear and fright, quickly turned red, a touch of red, a large patch of red, a red dripping of blood, red to the base of her neck, and red to her ears.

Feng Li had no time to observe the change in the girl's face, and her footsteps moved rapidly, step by step, and every time she struck, a Gatu soldier would die. With Wen Mu, who arrived, joining the battle, even though the Gatu soldiers were ruthless and crazy, with the silent fierceness of the wind and the steady sword of Wen Mu's opening and closing, they could only become corpses on the ground with their eyes open and looking at the sky.

When the battle was over, Feng Li put down the person in his arms, and the girl ran behind her grandfather with a crimson face. The girl's grandfather is the village chief, and he is grateful to Feng Liwen Mu for saving his life and for saving his granddaughter. Fengli was silent, and Wen Mu smiled at the girl who looked at Fengli with a crimson face but affectionate eyes, shy and expectant but hiding behind her grandfather and refused to come out, squeezing her eyebrows at Fengli, full of teasing. Turning a blind eye, Feng Li worked with the village chief to maintain and resettle the ruined village.

As with all the villages in Mia, the young and middle-aged people of this village went to join the army, and in this surprise attack, all the men in the village were killed in battle, and the rest were all old, weak, sick and disabled, and the village chief finally decided to take refuge in the neighboring village. There is no labor force in the village, let alone the return of the Jiatu people, and they simply cannot afford the rations of the old, weak, sick and disabled of this great promise.

The village chief has always been prestigious, and after hearing the decision, everyone packed up the few rations, brought farm tools, and helped each other to a neighboring village less than five miles. Feng Li is not good at communicating with people, and he rarely talks all the way, and Wen Mu talks with the village chief about victory. Of course, this is normal in Wen Mu's opinion, Feng Li can't speak, he's a mute. It was the village chief's girl who ran up and down to help the villagers carry something, supported them from time to time, and walked to Fengli's side several times, but she wanted to stop talking.

Fengli watched her circle around the village chief's grandfather several times, rubbing her hands several times, but she didn't say anything. Fengli looked up in the direction of Jiatu, where there were his three grandfathers, who were sleeping in a foreign country, thinking of their homeland in the cold underground. Those who fold quilts for themselves on cold winter nights, those who lift up their weak bodies in Jiatu, and those who leave a bowl of hot water for themselves in the middle of the night to practice swords and swords...... Countless people who have been with each other day and night are no longer around. They miss Mia as much as they miss their parents. Feng Li covered his face, not letting the thing that slowly soaked his eyes have the slightest room to scream and roll. I am so unfilial, watching my father and mother die in front of me, and the three grandfathers who love me are also buried in other places, but they can't do anything to change.

The cold thoughts were pulled back by the soft warmth of the arm, and when she let go, the girl looked at herself gently and quietly, her eyes full of caring and shy affection. Feng Li smiled gently, signaling that she was fine, and the girl put down the hand that was holding Feng Li's arm, but she didn't know where to put it.

The girl's name is Yezi, she is lively and active, delicate and beautiful, cheerful and generous. She looked at the young man in front of her, the young man was strong, but he didn't like to talk, his eyes were depressed and sad, but his eyes were peaceful and calm, he was rescued by him from the hands of the Jiatu people, this look entered the bottom of his heart, quietly sprouting, not at all himself.