In the golden light and fluttering sparks in the sky, it was no longer possible to see the figure inside, and it was impossible to capture Ye Changsheng's figure.

Dezhen's eyes were a little dazed, and he suddenly thought of the past.

I remember when I was a child, when I was in the Sanshui Town Martial Arts Academy, Ye Changsheng was just an outsider, and he was easily knocked to the ground by him.

Later, Ye Changsheng's legs were wasted, and he could only sit in a wheelchair every day, and he couldn't even take care of himself.

Once, Dezhen saw Ye Changsheng fall ill with his own eyes, fell to the ground from a wheelchair, rolled on the ground in pain, sweated profusely, and his teeth were broken.

It was also from that time that Dezhen really classified Ye Changsheng, who had become a sick seedling, into the ranks of waste.

Later, he inadvertently learned that Ye Changsheng was actually a descendant of the Ye family in Maple City, and Ye Changsheng, who was inherited by the divine refining bloodline, could forge a powerful natal sword.

In the next three years, Ye Changsheng forged a sword, and while Dezhen paid attention to that sword, he also paid attention to Ye Changsheng.

Ye Changsheng turned white overnight in order to forge a sword, and at that time, Dezhen really cared about Ye Changsheng.

If Ye Changsheng's oil ran out and the lamp dried up, and that ethereal sword fell short, wouldn't his mind be in vain?

Fortunately, Ye Changsheng succeeded, and unbelievably, he forged that ethereal sword.

To this day, Dezhen still clearly remembers how happy he was in his heart, how infatuated his eyes were, and how vigorous his spirit was when he picked up the ethereal sword for the first time.

With such a sword, beauty, fame, and glory seem to be within reach.

However, he never thought that it was from this sword that his nightmare, the nightmare of the Huang family, kicked off.

Right under their noses, Ye Changsheng killed Hong Yuntao and burned Hong Xiaowan to death, but instead annexed Red Leaf Villa and replaced the Hong family.

Ye Changsheng used the most brutal way to snatch the ethereal sword from his hand, and at the same time destroyed his willpower.

He, the so-called genius, the future Huang Sanyuan, has become a complete joke in the eyes of the world!

In the next two years, Ye Changsheng made great progress, but he continued to sink and was completely forgotten by the world, and only good deeds would take him out when telling Ye Changsheng's family history, as a shameful comparison.

Today's Huang family is broken and dilapidated, his father is dead, his mother is dead, his brothers and sisters are dead, and he can only shave his family in Cifu Temple in order to survive in the world.

The past flashes one by one, like dew and electricity, and the prosperity of the past is just a dream bubble.

Dezhen's eyes flashed with tears, and his big hands clenched his chest tightly, as if he wanted to bring the broken heart back together.

To cheer up, to cheer up.

Ye Changsheng back then was even more miserable than me, his parents were killed, his family business was robbed, he lost his legs, and he was even stabbed in the back by his beloved.

The pain he suffered, the humiliation he suffered, probably even deeper than mine, right?

Since Ye Changsheng can survive, I will definitely be able to survive.

If Ye Changsheng can become so powerful, I will definitely become even stronger.

Ye Changsheng, you'd better not die, the only person who can kill you is me.

I, Huang Jingyun, have finally woken up after three years of depression!

Dezhen burst into tears, trembled, let out a long breath, and calmed down his gaze, looking at the cliff again, catching the figure.

Behind Dezhen, his former uncle Huang Tianze, Master Juexin, the master of Cifu Temple, sensed the change in Dezhen's state of mind, and couldn't help but nod approvingly.

Hatred is the demon of the heart, but it is also the most powerful motivator.

Hatred can ruin oneself, but it can also ruin others.

What Dezhen needs now is the hatred of others.

"Boom!"

A ball of light exploded, like a scorching sun disintegrating.

A figure brought out a rain of blood and quickly slid backwards.

Through the distorted space, Meng Mastiff looked at Ye Changsheng, who had fled again, his face was gloomy, he lowered his head, and glanced at a sword wound on his chest.

The wound was short, no more than three inches, and shallow, but it cut through his shirt and left a bloody streak on his skin.

From the shallow blood stains, beads of blood flowed out, like the juice of ripe berries, soaking through the tattered parts of the clothes.

On any occasion, for any person, this injury can be ignored, because it is so slight, even the wound of the old farmer who went up the mountain to cut wood and was hung by a tree branch is bigger than this sword wound.

However, it was these three inches of scar, but it was of extraordinary significance to the Meng Mastiff and Ye Changsheng who were fighting.

The two sides fought hundreds of moves, and this was the first time that the mastiff was injured!

With the first, there will be a second.

With a three-inch scar, there will be a one-foot scar.

The masters who watched the battle breathed a sigh of relief, as of now, Ye Changsheng's tactics were successful, and he withstood the onslaught of the Meng Mastiff in the way of fighting.

The fierce momentum of the mastiff has reached a terrifying peak, but the peak also means the beginning of the decline.

As long as Ye Changsheng can continue to consume the momentum and energy of the Meng Mastiff, he will definitely be able to capture the opportunity to counterattack.

Even if he can't turn defeat into victory, he can still drag this tragic battle into a longer process.

As long as the battle doesn't end, it means that anything is possible.

The most important thing now is that although Ye Changsheng has adopted attrition tactics, his own consumption is also very large, and his consumption of the Meng Mastiff is at the cost of his constant injuries.

Will he be able to hold up?

In the midst of the fire, Ye Changsheng stood a few meters away, floating and panting under his feet.

His burnt gown was even more tattered, revealing a crisscrossing wound on his body.

At the beginning of the burst, these wounds threw out patches of blood mist, and then he sealed them with high temperature, turning them into black ugly scars.

Ye Changsheng relied on this brutal way to minimize the loss of blood.

It is also thanks to the chain of ice and fire wrapped around his chest and back, protecting his internal organs, that he can support it until now.

Even so, his whole body felt as if it had been torn apart, and every muscle in his body felt intense pain.

The internal organs were even more churning, and the heat that invaded the body seemed to roast them.

Fortunately, the most difficult stage has passed, the momentum of the mastiff is declining, and the blessing of the attack is also weakening.

If Ye Changsheng was not wrong, the Meng Mastiff must have magnified his moves.

In a flash, the vajra flew out of the mastiff's hand, like a furious golden dragon, coming in an instant.

Almost instinctively, Ye Changsheng's traceless body method activated, flashed backwards, and under the dust sword intent, the immortal sword drew one by one soft rings, spreading forward layer by layer.

The mastiff walked forward from the flames, his hands crossed across his chest, his palms folded upwards, and his thumbs slammed together.

The great sun is coming, the wheel of light!