At that time, the ink typhoon did not have an accurate concept of yin qi.

I don't know that when the yin qi is thick to a certain point, it will become yin.

Probably because he had been here during the day, although Mo Typhoon felt a little hairy in his heart, he still didn't believe that something too weird would happen at night in a place that was good during the day.

But the whimpering wind in the mountains and forests really makes people a little cold.

For as long as he can remember, Mo Typhoon has rarely been afraid of the cold, and the aunts and aunts in the family all smiled and said that Mo Typhoon was a stove.

And at this moment, there are goosebumps on my arms and neck, and I can't tell where this coldness comes from, as if it is drilling out little by little from the bottom of people's hearts, and every sweat pore is swishing with a cool breeze.

Like Motaizhuang, he was frightened and ran back, such a humiliating thing, Motai couldn't do it.

So, with his sword raised, Mo Tai stepped on the river bank mixed with earth and rocks and walked to the water's edge.

"Where are the ghosts?"

Mo Feng squatted down, chuckled, put the sword between his stomach and legs, poked his head, and splashed a handful of water on his face.

In the next second, he spit it out, and the water splashed on his face and nose, and there was an indescribable strange smell, very fishy, like the smell of blood scabs dried by the sun.

Mo Feng shook his hair, wiped the water stains from his eyes, lowered his head and froze violently, he has always been very bold, but even so, at that moment, his scalp was like tens of thousands of ants biting and gnawing.

The wind has not stopped, and there is a tendency to fly sand and stones.

Under the miserable moonlight, the water in the river was like a mirror, and underwater, the same miserable white face, was staring at the ink typhoon with straight eyes.

That's not your own face!

No matter how confused a person is, he will not fail to recognize himself.

Mo Typhoon remembers that when he was a child, some monks and Taoists came to visit his home.

There was once a sloppy Taoist priest who scared him and said that people catch fish in the water, and ghosts catch people on the shore.

Ghosts can dazzle people's eyes and make strange things to lure people into the water, just like people get bait and fish. People fish for tongues, and ghosts for people, for death.

Mo Feng's brain exploded, buzzing, rubbing his eyes, under the bright water, the unfamiliar face suddenly began to flow black blood stains in his eyes, and his mouth was also open, only a bottomless black opening.

"Bastard, what the hell!"

The tone of the Mo typhoon has changed, once a person is afraid of one thing and retreats, then he can only live in fear for the rest of his life.

So, Mo Feng gritted his teeth and stretched out his swinging hand, poofed into the water, he wanted to grab that face.

The water was cold, and the sesame-sized bumps spread from the back of the hand to the shoulder, and the arm was half stiff.

Mo Typhoon remembered that the water here was very deep, but his palm seemed to be firmly held down by something, and he couldn't pull it out under the water.

The great fear made Mo Tai's face twist together.

In the water, a palm was also stretched out, covered with indistinguishable fine hairs, and sharp nails scratched at Mo Typhoon's throat.

The river was like a swamp, dragging Mo Typhoon's body down.

That's not what a human being should be capable of.

The green tendons in his neck burst out, and Mo Tai pulled out his sword with his backhand, and stabbed it towards the face in the water with a low roar, and the blade seemed to be stabbed on the reef.

The palm full of fine hairs suddenly grabbed Mo Typhoon's collar.

The surface of the water blistered, and the face burst out of the water, and the swollen yellow and white eyes were pressed against the bridge of Mo Tai's nose, facing each other.

At this time, Mo Feng finally saw that the hand he had reached into the water was tightly locked by another palm full of fine hairs.

Rubble mixed with dead leaves hit the face.

What frightened Mo Typhoon was that more and more miserable faces poured out of the river.

Mo Typhoon touched the hilt of the sword with his lower jaw, and with his free hand and two fingers, he slashed at the blade of the sword, drawing a blood mark from the sword, reaching the bottom of the sword.

The Motai family sword duel seven styles, immovable Ming King demon sword seal.

Mo Tai re-grasped the sword with his backhand, and the blood mark on the sword body was actually red and cold, bright but not dazzling.

In the past, the sword mark was smeared on the sword body, plain, without the slightest peculiarity, for this reason, Mo Tai also asked his father, the sword style of the Motai family, is it really as magical as the ancestor said, the father pointed to the sky and said: "The sky is cloudy and sunny, no matter whether it is cloudy or sunny, the sky is always calm, only when the yin and yang produce a violent collision, there will be thunder and lightning, the same reason, the art of the world, regardless of the art of Buddhism, or the sword seal of the Motai family, the reason why it looks ordinary on weekdays, It's nothing more than not encountering forces diametrically opposed to it! ”

Mo Tai asked, "What will happen if you encounter it?" ”

My father said, "If you encounter it, you will inevitably be like the rolling thunder light, giving birth to the Dharma Phase!" The more we restrain each other, the more intense the Dharma phase will be! ”

Mo Typhoon looked at the sword body that began to show red like fire all over his body in shock, and his heart became hot for no reason, holding the hilt of the sword, he tried his best to stab it fiercely.

The smell was incomparable, sizzling, and the pus was like melted ice, dripping down the blade of the sword and falling into the water.

In those yellow and white eyes, a trace of resentment clearly flashed, followed by a terrifying scream that exploded in Mo Typhoon's ears.

Mo Typhoon's firmly locked wrist finally let go, withdrew his hand, Mo Typhoon turned over, held the scabbard and climbed ashore, but he couldn't care about his face anymore, and roared in the direction of the bonfire in a hoarse voice: "Xiaozhuang, save me ......"

The mountains are quiet at night, so the slightest noise usually reverberates far through the mountains.

But only this time, I don't know if it was because the wind was too strong or what, those people in Motaizhuang did not respond for a long time.

The dark clouds obscured the moon, the autumn rain was majestic, rustling in the woods, and the night was dark.

Mo Typhoon wiped the rain off his face, looked at the black shadow in the river with his arms stretched out and climbed to the shore, and gasped for breath.

Lightning and thunder roared, and there were thunder snakes entwined around and tore apart the night, splitting the forest behind the Mo typhoon into a raging fire, and in such a heavy rain, the fire continued unabated.

And at the moment when the thunder and lightning fell, Mo Typhoon finally saw the appearance of the figure that climbed ashore.

With a miserable white and hideous face, when he saw the clothes on those figures, Mo Feng's heart suddenly cooled in half, and it turned out to be the clothes of the ancients......

Even the Motai family, the Motai family that has been hidden for thousands of years, can't find a few people who wear this kind of dress......

Mo Typhoon suddenly remembered the words of the elders when he was a child, and the elders said that in the depths of the Liao River, there is a road that the world cannot see, and that road leads to another place, that place, only the dead can reach......

The elders also said that because the Liao River is connected to that strange road, when yin and yang go wrong and the world is turbulent, there are often some creepy things floating out of the Liao River......

The elders also said that the ancestor of their Motai family, Boyi, entered the coffin as a sage, and used Liaoshui to warn the world that every time the floating coffin appeared, the way of heaven began to change, and the world called it, a lonely bamboo floating coffin......

Zhou extinguished Shang, the floating coffin first appeared, and later, the Taoist ancestor rode the green ox west to send a letter to Guguan, and the Tao Te Ching was established, and since then the witch disappeared and the art has flourished......