The rain fell like a pour.

The downpour fell on the bamboo forest next to the Fengzi Building, on the green umbrella held by pedestrians, and slid down the umbrella surface to the ground, mixed with mud, turning into mud.

The golden bell under the eaves of the wind building suddenly shook with the wind, and the sound came from top to bottom, like the height of the sky.

The red silk cloth under the Jinling dances wildly.

The yellow-shirted young man was already ready to put away his sword, and everyone saw that there was no more excitement to see, and gradually dispersed, and the sword-hugging warrior behind him opened his eyes, and the internal force that was secretly mentioned dissipated, adding to the meaning of laziness, the young man's friend walked over from the side, laughing and joking.

"Hahaha, Murong, don't be angry, I'll sit in the village today."

"Go find a cleaner and give you a fire."

Everything is a normal trajectory.

Only downstairs in Fengzi, there is a book collector standing alone.

The rain fell like a curtain.

The sound of Ding Dong was uploaded, and the melodious and lofty voice of the golden bell gradually became urgent, and the sword-hugging warrior did not know why, and he was slightly uneasy in his heart, knowing that although he was not a third-grade master, he also had nearly seven-grade skills, and his practice was the martial arts that were not passed down by the family, and he had the instinct of God and Enlightenment.

Raising his head slightly, he noticed a tingling sensation coming from the center of his eyebrows, as if there was a sharp long sword, and it was pointed at the center of his eyebrows, his eyebrows couldn't help but lock, and his right hand was opened, holding it on the hilt of the long sword.

A layer of delicate cold sweat has appeared in the palm.

The rain is getting more and more urgent, at this time there is thunder in the sky, like a dragon swimming, the world is bright, suddenly there is a sound of the sword roaring, a cold light will break the rain curtain, lightning appeared in front of the yellow-shirted young man, the sword warrior instinctively drew his sword, but at this time he saw a pair of black and white eyes, there were bloodshots, and a great chill suddenly arose in his heart.

There are more than seven rank martial artists, and they died because of him!

Enlightenment appeared in his heart, and his body instinctively stiffened for a moment, watching the afterimage break through the sky and lift the rain curtain.

The thunder of the heavenly dome was fleeting.

The bell sound under the eaves of the wind building gradually calmed down after reaching the peak, a cold light swirled towards the sky, and then fell, in the sound of the roar, upside down on the bluestone road, these bluestones were washed clean by the rain, the more quiet, the long sword blade was quickly wet by the rain, and the meager rain mist slipped down the blades on both sides of the sword spine, the lower the roaring sound, but gradually tended to be far away.

The man holding the sword froze to one side, and two incoherent lines of poetry suddenly appeared in his mind.

Come like thunder to reel in wrath.

Heaven and earth have been low for a long time.

The sight of everyone who was affected by the thunder light was restored, and the rain curtain that was shattered by the sword light also returned to its original appearance, under this rain curtain, there were green umbrellas shattered like butterflies, pieces of flying, the yellow-shirted young man's body trembled, his face was pale, the green umbrella in the hands of the two maids had cracked for some time, but he had not been damaged, but his face was slightly frightened, and the line fell on the blade held by the blue-shirted young man.

It's nothing more than a bamboo umbrella.

The umbrella became more ordinary, and the more shocked they became.

As the maids of the family, they are naturally not unskilled in martial arts.

Naturally, he understands what the sword that can cut out Fang Cai with a bamboo umbrella represents, and he knows more clearly how surprising his attainments are in the way of the sword this young scholar in a blue shirt who is called a good old man by everyone.

This is not a sword technique that a teenager can use.

Wang Anfeng lowered his eyebrows, the bamboo umbrella in his hand rested on the young man's shoulder, and his wrist moved slightly, and there was a long sound of a sword, which shattered the rain and fog around him, and also broke the young man's falling black hair a little, and fell into the rain.

Not far away, his friend was stunned in horror, and then anger swelled up, they did not put down the sword directly, because they did not know the fear in the heart of the yellow-shirted young man who sat down on the ground tremblingly, but felt that his face was insulted, so he instinctively drew his sword and scolded.

Wang Anfeng exhaled and slowly straightened up.

Killing people in a fit of anger is the practice of heroes, but it is not his.

Dad said, on the rivers and lakes, between heaven and earth, in the cage.

There is no shame in killing, but it should be a last resort.

Those who rely on force and act recklessly are often useless without martial arts.

Those who are angry should not be afraid, but when they are cowardly, they should not be afraid.

Maybe it's because today is my father's death day, the memory of eight years ago, those teachings that have not yet been understood resurfaced in my heart at this time, when he left, he stroked his forehead, still smiling, saying things that he didn't understand at the time, but now it is a little transparent.

What can really be called a human being, in the face of great rights and wrongs, even if he is powerless, even if he is an ordinary scholar, he will straighten his waist, while those who are rampant with force will mostly kneel at the feet of those who are stronger, humble as dust.

Facing the young man who was holding a sharp knife and coming towards him violently, Wang Anfeng closed his eyes slightly, the tyrannical emotions in his heart dissipated slightly, the rain fell on his body, standing under the wind tower, but he suddenly returned to Daliang Village, the spring is getting stronger, there are emaciated men chuckling in his memory, chatting at will, many words are pale, and there are a few words that are getting stronger and stronger.

The palm of the hand holding the umbrella was slightly loose, and he said softly:

"People, higher than martial arts."

"Respect 'me'."

Although my father and mother are gone, they are still with me.

Wang Anfeng felt a little warm in his heart, as if he saw the man chuckling, all kinds of distracting thoughts, instantly ambushed, but it was in harmony with the essence of the Buddha's palm, and the internal force of the golden bell jar of the Buddha Gate suddenly accelerated, but it did not seem the slightest abrupt, and naturally, seventy-two years made the key to breaking flow in his heart.

Holding a sharp blade, but looking down at himself at a higher level, with a shock of his wrist, there was an invisible energy lingering on the bamboo umbrella.

But the heart of the flying will be investigated to investigate the place of the flying, and if there is nowhere to investigate, where is the idea of flying? If you return to the heart, can you study the heart at ease?

This heart, at ease?

The green umbrella was raised like a sword slashing obliquely, the sword qi stirred the rain and mist, turning the invisible into substance, the face of the angry young man instantly stiffened, and he saw the sword qi slashing out obliquely, and the rain and mist lingered, like a flying swallow, cutting through the rain curtain and falling in the bamboo forest.

There was a green bamboo that collapsed.

The chill spread down everyone's spine.

The bamboo umbrella in the hand of the young man opened, sheltering the wind and rain outside, the golden bell jar spontaneously operated, it was an unprecedented speed, Buddhism Zen Buddhism, the most enlightened, a thought into a Buddha, the second level of the golden bell jar took a big step forward, and the more and more pure internal force steamed up the wet rain around the body, turning into rain and mist.

Wang Anfeng's demons were dispersed at this time, but he never denied what he had just done, holding a green umbrella, he did not bow down to salute, but said flatly:

"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry today."

After saying that, he turned around, not caring about the reaction of others, quite accessible, the green umbrella in his palm turned slightly, and the rain curtain fell to cover him, and the young man in the blue shirt walked away with his sword.

The crowd was silent for a long time.

The sword-hugging warrior was ordered to protect the thirteenth prince of the Murong family, the latter was not valued because he was not a real master, but after all, he was close to the seven-rank realm.

could have fought with Wang Anfeng, but he was a swordsman, and when he saw such wonderful swordsmanship, he was already dizzy, even if this Murong Gongzi was bleeding in front of him, I am afraid he would sigh at the great beauty of swordsmanship.

At this time, I came back to my senses slightly, looking forward to the left and right, and the people I saw looked sluggish, although I didn't make my own sword, but as a swordsman, I had honor, and in my mind, two other ancient poems appeared, and what I thought before, just combined into four sentences.

Come like thunder to restrain anger, and let it be like the river and sea condensing the light.

The spectator is like a mountain and depressed. Heaven and earth have been low for a long time.

At this thought, the pleasure in my heart was like drinking and getting drunk, hearty, and I couldn't help but play the sword, chanted the four ancient poems, and shook my head again and again, and exclaimed:

"Good, good, good swordsmanship!"

The voice fell, but he found that the people around him looked at him when he heard the words, his eyes were strange, and he suddenly remembered his identity and duty. His own young master was frightened, but his behavior was extremely inappropriate, and his face couldn't help but stiffen slightly, slightly embarrassed.

The young man in the yellow shirt was helped up by the maid, and the trembling in his heart had not disappeared, he only felt that he was challenged, or he was not inferior in his mouth, and he had suffered such a threat, it really didn't make sense, I scolded you, can you scold back?

Do you need that?

Annoyed in his heart, according to his habit, he opened his mouth to scold the heavens and scold his mother, when he opened his mouth, he flashed the sharp sword light in front of him, and his neck subconsciously shrank back, and he couldn't open his mouth, and he wanted to cry without tears in his heart, so he saw his own guards playing the sword and admired, and became more and more annoyed.

I raised my foot and wanted to kick it hard, but my legs and feet were weak, and I couldn't use my strength, but I was like a young child making an awkward noise, gritting my teeth and saying:

"Still not chasing? Teach him a good lesson! ”

The guards reluctantly agreed.

At this moment, the closed door of the Fengzilou suddenly opened.

An old voice came out, his voice was flat, implying that he was lonely, and said:

"Tonight, you don't have to come back to sprinkle and sweep, come tomorrow morning, and then remove the green bamboo."

The voice paused slightly, and then he spoke again, his voice seemed to be softened, as if he was admiring, but it seemed to be just an illusion of everyone, and said:

"Good swordsmanship."

After a few breaths, far away, a young man's voice was heard.

"Thank you seniors for the compliment."

Although the distance is not close, but the words are clear, its sound is like a dragon chanting and roaring, shaking rain and fog, revealing a deep internal attainment, obviously has entered the nine products, and has a solid foundation.

That Murong Gongzi was stunned at first when he heard this, and then he reacted to the identity of the person who spoke, and his face stiffened instantly.

Ren Changge.

On the third grade.

Niang Xipi.

Can't afford to mess with.

Lost in vain.

At this point, a look of frustration appeared on his face, and in the hidden darkness, the thought that had only risen in many ways was greeted and praised by the old man, and he was uprooted extremely roughly, and he did not dare to make the slightest move.

The new martial artists on the star list seem to be related to the 'long song line'.

Belongs to the Academy Palace, not a wandering martial artist, and cannot be absorbed.

Such an evaluation quickly appeared on the desktops of several middle-level leaders of the forces, and those who were on the right path smiled and did not care, while some secretly hated it in their hearts, feared its might, and dismissed the plan originally used to subdue Wang Anfeng, and found another goal to absorb into the sect.

PS: Second Update......

Buddha, how can you become strong without demonic thoughts......