Luo Fuluo finished talking about the changes of the day in one breath, and the thirteen people on the side did not say a word, and the seven people who entered the Sword Pavilion also stood quietly aside. In the constant narration of Luo Fuluo, he was constantly caught up in a kind of inability to be innocent of himself by everything that happened in the day, and made himself a judge. The demon cultivator didn't say a word, and he didn't ask a single question, as if he wasn't the victim back then.

There are only thirteen futons on the second floor of the Sword Pavilion, and Mo Xiuyan sits on a futon in the middle, when he sat here, this world seemed to belong to Xiuyue Villa, Xiuyue Villa was a point in this world, and everything only belonged to others! In addition to organizing the battle of tens of thousands of people, Xiuyue Villa could do everything else, all of this was not only the invincible thirteen swords in the Sword Pavilion, but because behind the three elders of the Sword Pavilion, each had a boundless and infinite subtle and aggregated branch like a river and a forest.

Sixteen years later, he broke away from this huge organization, but now he was forcibly pulled in, all just to let him walk into the pain he wanted to forget but couldn't forget. Walking into this Xiuyue Villa, he didn't know who to trust? Can the Thirteen Heroes believe it? Luo Fuluo couldn't believe it. The past self is just a memory, and the memories that he has always wanted to forget are a part of his truth, but they no longer exist, and his family does not exist anymore, and he is the only one who really exists, and now, he has his own wife and children, and he now only belongs to them, looking at Luofuro:

"Can you let me be here for a while?"

Sitting on the futon, Mo Xiuyan has been in the Sword Pavilion for more than two years, plus he has not entered the Sword Pavilion, and his life in this Xiuyue Villa for more than ten years is intertwined with electricity and flint in his mind. Luo Mo and the deceased heroic spirit of the sword cultivator soul seemed to come back to life, and returned to the futon they sat on back then, still smiling, moving on the futon, the body moved, and the two of them pounced on each other once, and the posture of sitting cross-legged was still the same when the two of them fought in the air.

came back, and returned to the Sword Pavilion, but of the people in this room, only one of the thirteen people dared to sit on the futon in front of him, while the other seven people just looked at him quietly, as well as Luo Fuluo. For the Thirteen Males, there was a woman he loved on these thirteen futons, and now the ghostly shadow of that woman is still in the minds of the Thirteen Males and the Thirteen Males, and where are the Yi people.

The thirteen swords of the Sword Pavilion once walked towards the Sword Pavilion one by one, and those who were blurred, weakened, and had a white light swayed in front of the eyes of Demon Xiuyan. Lantian Yu and Luo Fuluo, as well as their father, will never enter this Sword Pavilion. When he was a teenager, this sword pavilion belonged to Tianya Gusuo, and after he ascended to the first seat of the Sword Pavilion, this sword pavilion only belonged to himself and the thirteen swords, and his own Tianya Gusuo, who was like a master and father, returned to his sword forging cliff.

Mo Xiuyan sat up on a tray of futons sewn with burlap, just like when he sat here, they were only thirteen swords, thirteen swords belonging to Xiuyue Villa, and there were only two places to live, the Sword Forging Cliff and this Sword Pavilion.

The forty-five branch families will send people to contact their Sword Pavilion and ask them to do something that they are not good at coming forward and can only do in secret, and the three owners of Xiuyue Villa will also let them do some things they want to do, and in these past, they are all one sword, a sword that belongs to Xiuyue Villa, and also belongs to the forty-five families. But in one day, this important sword disappeared.

Not only did the sword of the Sword Pavilion disappear, but even the two owners of Xiuyue Mountain Villa also disappeared at the same time on this day.

Mo Xiuyan didn't want to recall, these memories were like shadows that could not be dispelled, in the past sixteen years, every day when he was idle, they would definitely linger in his mind, and they would coexist with his living life every day. In the past, he never told Yang Chunhua that when Yang Chunhua stripped himself naked and bandaged the scars on his body for the first time, he may have touched those countless old scars, and she seemed to be able to read the story in each red knotted scar. Where are they now, and what else can he do for them?······

Memories and reality have become a torrent of images, rushing towards him, sixteen years, this Sword Pavilion is such a terrifying and kind place for his demon cultivation. In his dreams, he would always sit on these futons, and he would sleep on the bed on the third floor······

Eighteen years ago, he first climbed the third floor, Tianya Gusuo said to him, "A sword head, must have the mystery and power of the head, but these are not enough, when your comrades are struck by swords and guns, you must have the courage and strength to dare to stand up and meet those swords and guns, this is a real sword head, if you can't do this, or go back to the second floor to find a futon that you want to sit on in peace." ”

Father said to himself outside the door of the Sword Pavilion, "Once you climb the three-story pavilion, you will be a person with the same heavy responsibilities as us, a Xiuyue Villa of thousands of people, except for the three of us, the survival of each and every one of them may be in your heart and hands, you have to think about it, if you are ready, go up!"

Luo Fuluo's words were cordial and gentle, "Virtuous nephew, don't listen to your father, a father's words are a 100% requirement and expectation for his children, but it is just a kind of inward beauty, a good wish that his children can succeed!"

But real life and reality are not like that, changes all the time, will make your ability to do good things also weakened to deal with reality, all kinds of complex and subtle changes will become a stumbling block you want to to, when you move forward, you will trip. And the real reality, stumbling all the way, constantly making mistakes and misjudgments, and towards the goal, all the way brave, that is the truth, where will there be things that must be done?

Lan Tianyu's words were much simpler: "I'm afraid of a ball, Lao Tzu is still healthy, he can eat and drink, Lan Qinghong, you have killed him, who else are you afraid of! ”

As soon as the words were finished, he pushed it on his back, kicked his buttocks, and scolded people in his mouth, "Hanqiu, if my Lan Qinghong can go up to the third floor, I must be so happy in my heart that I don't know why I am happy?

The farther memories also became a white light, turning into those people who were walking around in front of them, walking around in this large hall.

Lan Qingzhao came up to this floor again, "Why did the Lan family give birth to this tall girl!" Lan Qingzhao was still walking in the courtyard, and the young people in the Sword Pavilion began to discuss, "What a fierce mule, kick whoever you meet!" Luo Mo and Thirteen Heroes are no exception, discussing that Lan Qingzhao is the only way they can attack themselves, such an opportunity is not every day, and compared to being hit by themselves countless times under the sword forging cliff, at this time, it is the only thing they can really be happy and can be beaten without recklessness.

Lan Qingzhao entered the hall door of the Sword Pavilion, and they also began to walk downstairs, as long as they heard the sound of stepping on the wooden ladder, everyone knew that this was Lan Qingzhao sending a secret signal: 'If you are interested, hurry up and give me all the steps downstairs, if any one is late, the girl will come upstairs to make you look good!'

For the thirteen and eleven other sword envoys, the sound of Lan Qingzhao's footsteps ascending the stairs was even more fortunate than the presence of death. As long as she makes a move, the iron bullet on her body will not stop if she is not finished, who dares to carry a sword to fight with her for hundreds of rounds, the iron bullet on her body is not the most ruthless weapon, the shape like a door panel is her most advantageous weapon, ignoring everything on the other side, even if it is a few swords in front of her, she also rushes with those sword tips with those big open eyes, which sword does not have long eyes? My God, she is too heroic, the eldest lady of the Lan family is invincible in the world! Before she finished speaking, she may have been hit by a few bullets in her body.

Memories of bitterness, pain, sorrow and joy poured over like a tide. Huangsha Town is far away, and he may not be able to go back in this life. Those villagers who worked with themselves in the past day, in the fields, building walls on the foundations, drinking wine in the golden sunlight at dusk, drinking tea on the ridges at noon, and the children's running and joyful play in front of them, all were impossible, but at this time, they actually stepped on the path and climbed up to the sword pavilion of this Xiuyue Mountain Villa, and those voices, like the sound of the sky in the forest in the early morning, wandered slowly in this sword pavilion, back and forth in the courtyard.

No one spoke, quietly watching Mo Xiuyan sitting on the futon, his eyes closed, the countless muscles on his face glowing with countless colors and distorting countless appearances. For the seven sword envoys who have only entered this sword pavilion now, they are from the mouth of Luo Fuluo, from the mouth of the lonely man at the end of the world, from the merciful competition of his subordinates in the past, the legend of the devil is almost the same as this ordinary appearance, where can he still match the number, where is a person, but he is sitting in front of him, naturally and comfortably sitting in the seat where only the head of the sword dares to sit.

The quietness of Lou Velo is a mystery, and no one can guess it. Everyone's immobility, as if a catastrophe of the destruction of the world will happen tomorrow, or the next moment, who is in the mood to speak? But as if looking at a sick man who is about to die, who does not have a little compassion, a little compassion to quiet him for a while?