Heartless.

The remnant sun is like blood, and the green mountains are like dai.

A young girl pushes a wheelchair and stands slim on the edge of a cliff.

The girl's colorful skirt flutters in the wind, like a delicate lotus flower.

The boy in the wheelchair, fifteen or sixteen years old, with black hair hanging down his shoulders and clear eyebrows, was playing the flute in a daze.

The sound of the weeping flute blends into the empty and poignant mountain scenery.

After the song is blown, the aftermath is endless.

The young man slowly put down the flute, his eyes flashed with pain, and he looked out at the vast distant mountains.

Before the green mountain, after the green mountain.

Climb high and look at two places, where are the two places.

The smoke scene is full of Kawahara, and the people are white.

The Qingli girl was leisurely distracted, and only murmured after a while: "It's a sad poem." ”

"It's very sad. ”

"Is it just sad, Brother Changsheng, don't you hate me?"

"Don't you hate, you killed my parents and took away my Ye family's property. In order to let me forge a sword, you have deceived me for three years, how can I not hate?"

Ye Changsheng smiled sadly, "But what's the use of hating, Wan'er, if I'm not mistaken, you're here to see me off for the last time, right?"

Hong Xiaowan bit her red lip lightly and nodded faintly.

"Can you give the Ye family a way out?"

“......”

"Can you spare the people of the Sword Forge Hall?"

“......”

"Wan'er, you really, never liked me?"

"Nope. Hong Xiaowan spit out two cold words and slowly let go of her hands.

The wheelchair slid down the slope and fell towards the bottomless cliff.

Ye Changsheng was like a bird with folded wings, rolling in the air, planted in the misty clouds.

If there is an afterlife, elder brother, you must not fall in love with a vicious woman.

......

"Boom!"

In Ye Changsheng's mind, a huge roar sounded, and his intuition was spinning, and he was drowsy.

An unbearable tingling pain came from his heart, and he couldn't help but let out a muffled grunt of pain.

"Young hall master, young hall master ......"

A distant voice echoed in my ears, as if from another world.

Ye Changsheng's eyes trembled in pain, and he slowly lifted up.

The face of a swarthy teenager came into view.

Am I in the underworld?

Looking at this familiar and friendly face, Ye Changsheng's chest surged with heat, and he smiled faintly: "Sledgehammer, we finally meet again." ”

Wang Dazhui looked dazed, scratched the back of his head and smiled: "Young hall master, you are really good at laughing, we met half an hour ago, and I personally put you into the pool." ”

Pool?

Ye Changsheng was stunned for a moment, and then saw his body soaked in the medicine pool, and his eyes widened in disbelief.

There was a burning sensation from the body, the smell of herbs in the nostrils, everything was so real, and so was the scene around it.

This is the medicated bath of the Forge Sword Hall?

"Could it be that I'm not dead?!" Ye Changsheng showed a look of horror, but he also hid a trace of excitement.

He clearly remembered that he was pushed into a desperate career by Hong Xiaowan, and there was no reason to live.

Even if he fell off a cliff and was rescued, but Sledgehammer would have died a long time ago, how could he be here?

Thinking of this, he stared straight at the sledgehammer.

The sledgehammer was furious when he saw it, and said worriedly: "Young hall master, are you okay, you almost fainted when you cast the sword for the eighth time last night." ”

Last night, the eighth sword forge?

The eighth sword?!

Sledgehammer died after the eighth sword-casting, and he himself died after the ninth-casting sword.

There was a three-month gap between the two.

Could it be that I came back to life and was reborn three months ago?

In the dense mist, Ye Changsheng was short of breath, his expression kept changing, and his fists trembled violently because they were clenched too tightly.

Wrapped in a wide bath towel, Changsheng was carried back to the next room by a sledgehammer.

Lying on the bed, he awkwardly dressed, while looking at the familiar room, mixed with joy and sorrow.

This is his abode in the Sword Forge Hall.

On the bookshelf near the head of the bed, there are more than 20 Buddhist scriptures.

In the three years that he was a waster, apart from Wan'er's sweet words, the only thing that could relieve his pain was these scriptures.

The rest of the room was filled with notes.

In order to forge the ethereal sword, for three years, Changsheng worked non-stop calculations night after night, and more than a dozen bundles of charcoal were used up alone.

In the end, it was nothing more than making wedding clothes for others.

Three years of lingering, nothing more than a dream bubble,

Once I woke up from a dream, it was a pink skeleton.

Thinking of the tragic fate of his previous life, Ye Changsheng's eyes revealed a deep chill.

If he remembers correctly, the samurai of Momiji Mountain Villa will soon come to him and ask him to meet the owner of the village, Hong Yuntao.

It was on this night that his childhood playmate, his most faithful servant, Wang Da Hammer, was secretly killed by the three warriors and dumped in a grave.

Pity him at that time, he put all his thoughts on forging swords, and even believed such nonsense as "sledgehammer went to find relatives in other places".

It wasn't until he was taken by Hong Xiaowan on the road to despair that he knew the truth.

Sure enough, as soon as the thought of immortality arose, a feminine voice came from outside the door: "Young hall master, Lord Zhuang asked you to see him." ”

Ye Changsheng was silent, and suddenly burst into maniacal laughter, his face crawling with tears.

Sure enough, he was reborn, and even this cold voice was exactly the same as in his previous life!

Fixing a black hand crossbow to his forearm, Ye Changsheng sat back in a wheelchair.

There was a creak, and the door was pushed open.

The three black-clothed warriors strode in, and the leader of the warriors said proudly: "Young hall master, on the orders of Lord Zhuang, please come over." ”

Ye Changsheng said coldly: "If it is your lord's study, do you dare to break in directly without permission?"

The black-clothed warrior was stunned for a moment, and a gloomy color flashed in his eyes: "Young hall master, we are just here by order, if there is anything dissatisfied, you can go directly to the owner of the village and tell it." ”

Wang Dazhui stood behind Ye Changsheng, his face flushed with anger, and he said angrily: "You are too presumptuous, this is the Sword Casting Hall, not your Red Leaf Villa!"

The black-clothed warrior glanced at the sledgehammer with disdain, too lazy to talk nonsense: "Where is the duty, young hall master, please!"

As he spoke, the corners of his mouth hooked a mocking sneer, and he walked proudly towards Ye Changsheng,

Don't be ashamed, do you think Casting Sword Hall or you have the final say?

Give you face and call you the master of the hall, if you don't give you face, you are nothing!

Ye Changsheng looked at the warrior who came proudly, and couldn't help but smile.

His arm, which was in his wheelchair, slowly lifted up.

"Whoosh!"

Black bolts were lightning fast, and without warning, they came out of their sleeves and flew forward.

"Ding!"

The blood-stained bolts were nailed to the door, and the shafts of the arrows trembled violently.

On the back of the neck of the black-clothed warrior, a blood flower flew out and splashed on the faces of the two subordinates behind him.

The black-clothed warrior looked at Ye Changsheng incredulously with his eyes suddenly, and with a pop, the corpse fell under the wheelchair.

Ye Changsheng looked at the two stunned warriors, and spit out a word on his cold lips: "Get out!"