Jinling City is full of plain water.

At the end of the three-day national mourning, Munch's coffin was carried out from Changle Palace by a mighty send-off procession in the early morning.

The dragon chariot opened the way, and the emperor carried the coffin.

Don't talk about Chen Guo, even since ancient times, no prince has had such a special encounter.

On both sides of the streets of Jinling City, there were people who came to see them off, some of them had solemn faces and saluted respectfully, some women looked sad and hung their heads and wanted to weep, and some children looked at them, although they did not know why, they were infected by this scene and did not dare to frolic.

Then the mourning music played, and the ceremonial officials in front of him shouted.

"The soul is back, the soul is back!"

The people on both sides bowed to each other, and sang in a mournful tone: "The soul returns, the soul returns!"

This sound is lingering, entrenched in the head of Jinling City, for a long time.

In the crowd, a black-clothed man with a long sword looked at the coffin slowly moving forward with gloomy eyebrows, and his eyes suddenly fell on the white-haired emperor who lowered his head and lifted the coffin.

At that moment, the cold murderous intent poured out of the man's body uncontrollably, the blue tendons on his forehead burst out, and his eyes instantly turned blood-red.

His hand stretched out slowly, and it was about to press the hilt of the sword on his back.

But just then, an old hand came out from behind him and took the hand he was about to grasp the hilt of the sword.

The man was stunned for a moment, looked sideways, and saw a white-haired old man standing behind him.

"Master!" he exclaimed in surprise.

The old man looked at him deeply and said, "Follow me back to the mountain." ”

After saying this, the old man ignored the man's struggle, took his hand and his shirt and agitated, and the figures of the two disappeared into the streets of Jinling City at that time.

The white-haired emperor who was not far away and lowered his head and carried the coffin seemed to have sensed something, his eyebrows raised slightly, but the next moment he returned to his original state, and he sang and said with the crowd: "The soul returns, the soul returns!"

The tone was mournful, as it was all over the city.

......

From the top of the mountain, inside the Imperial Soul Mansion.

The white-haired old man and Meng Liang sat opposite each other on a low couch.

"Master, why did you stop me? Meng Liang stared at the old man and asked in a low tone that he had never seen before for the old man.

"Have you been able to fight?" asked the old man as he blew the warm water in the teacup, neither salty nor light, and not in a hurry.

"The revenge of killing my father is not the same as the sky, but if you can't fight it, you have to fight it!" Meng Liang's hand holding the teacup trembled slightly, and he had to use all his strength to restrain himself in order to ensure that he would not crush the cup that the old man had always cherished.

The old man didn't seem to feel the anger surging in Meng Liang's heart at this moment, he lowered his head and said, "That's to find death?"

"Master, I have also achieved success in cultivating in the Sword Tomb these days, if I don't want to fight for my life, I won't try it..."Meng Liang frowned, neither did he like the old man stopping him from avenging his father, nor did he like his attitude of looking down on him so much.

It's just that before he finished his argument, the old man looked up at him again and asked, "Have you become an immortal?"

Meng Liang was speechless for a while, he shook his head, and his momentum weakened a little: "It's still a little short..."

"Worse?" asked the old man again, his eyes narrowing suddenly.

Probably because of the weakness of his heart, Meng Liang's momentum weakened a little: "It's only in the middle of the Great Yan Realm..."

But soon he regrouped and said loudly: "But so what, I have a fierce sword and evil dragon, so Chen Xuanji can still be an immortal..."

The last word "Cheng" was trapped in Meng Liang's throat, unable to spit out anymore - as he said this, the old man opposite him nodded slightly silently.

Meng Liang's heart was shocked, but at the same time, he was by no means greedy for life and afraid of death, and he was about to say something more.

"Chen Xuanji is a genius, whether it is kendo or intelligence, he deserves this title, your father chose him, and only he can afford this important responsibility. The old man seemed to see through Meng Liang's thoughts, and he spoke again.

"What do you mean?" Meng Liang was a little confused.

Hearing this, the old man reached out and took out a letter from his bosom and handed it to Meng Liang, and said in his mouth, "Your father asked me to hand it over to you." ”

"Huh?" Meng Liang took the letter and slowly unfolded it in his hands with confusion.

As he read the letter, his face grew ugly, and at last the ugliness turned into an indescribable anger that he had restrained. His eyes turned blood-red, and his hand holding the letter trembled.

The indifferent look on the old man's face dissipated at that moment, he walked to Meng Liang's side, stretched out his hand and gently pressed his shoulder, and said, "Go back to the Sword Tomb, there is a big trouble there..."

......

In the hearts of the barbarians who were born in the Southern Wilderness and died in the Southern Wilderness, the people in the Sword Tomb are the gods in the sky.

In the oral story passed down from generation to generation by their ancestors, it was the gods in the Sword Tomb who taught them to hunt, so that they had something to eat, and taught them to make fires, so that they could survive one long cold night after another.

The tribes of the Southern Barbarian tribe have been in turmoil for many years, and it is not uncommon for the royal court to change its name and surname, but no matter who sits in the position of this royal court, before the end of autumn every year, the helmsman of the royal court will lead his wife and children to the front of the sword tomb and send rich tributes to thank the gods for their protection.

This year is no exception.

The new lord of the royal court was a strong man nine feet tall, and according to legend, he was extremely powerful, but he could tear apart the tiger and leopard with his bare hands, and the previous lord of the royal court died at his hands. The alternation of barbarian kingship has always been like this, of course, it has not changed at all in the Central Plains, but the former puts it in the open, while the latter prefers to add a high-sounding reason to him.

The lord of the royal court was called "Uda" by the barbarians, and in the simple and scarce barbarian language system, Uda means double heaven.

And for the gods in the Sword Tomb, the name is "Mora", which means a heavy sky.

The new Wuda brought the whole family and nearly a hundred more royal court warriors to the sword tomb.

Uda was very grateful to Mora in the Sword Tomb, and he thought that he could defeat the previous Uda by relying on Mora's protection, so he prepared a very rich tribute - three fat sheep, a cow, and more than ten pheasants.

But when they reached the gate of the Sword Tomb, Mora was already standing there, waiting for them.

It was the first time Uda had seen Mora, and he was a little excited, and he looked up and down the other party in dissatisfaction, it was an old man who looked very old, with a thin body, and if he was placed in the tribe, such an old man would probably not survive. The southern wilderness is barren, and if a tribe wants to survive in this place, it must follow some cruel logic.

Everyone in the tribe must play their part, whether it is hunting, childbearing, or herding. Once it loses its effect, that person will be abandoned by the tribe and go into the Southern Wilderness alone, dying alone.

Wuda didn't feel half contempt because of Mora's image, in fact, in the rumors about the Jianling Immortals, there was such a thing...

There is more than one Mora, but only one white-haired Mora is the real Mora, and the rest of Mora are his incarnations, he can be a young man, a beautiful woman, or anyone, every time Uda worships Mora, you can see all kinds of Mora, but only the real Uda who is favored by Mora can see Mora's true body, that is, this white-haired old man.

When Uda thought of this, he couldn't help but be a little excited.

The tribute procession knelt down before Mora, who reverently chanted in the barbarian language: "Long live Mora." ”

Then, according to the custom, the team brought by Uda stepped forward and placed the carefully prepared tribute in front of Mora, and then Uda, who was kneeling on the ground, cautiously looked up at Mora, wanting to see from Mora's face whether the other party was satisfied with the tribute he had prepared.

And he was pleasantly surprised to find that after Namora's gaze scanned his tribute, a smile really appeared on the old man's face. Of course, with Udana's unremarkable intelligence, it is impossible to distinguish the difference between a bitter smile and a laugh.

He began to look forward to Mora's words, a rare honor for Uda, many times Mora would leave after receiving the tribute, but there were very few Uda who could get Mora's favor and say something to them.

Probably because there must be an echo if you don't forget.

After reading the tributes, Mora suddenly looked up at Uda, and his mouth really opened slowly.

Uda's heart was raised to his throat at that moment, and he stared at Mora, waiting for the oracle from the mouth of the immortals.

"From next year, there will be no more deliveries. Mora said in brute.

The simple words fell into Uda's ears, and Uda, who was still secretly complacent about his luck, almost fell to the ground at this moment as if the world had collapsed.

He came back to his senses after a long while, and he looked at Mora in confusion and trepidation, and explained in barbarian language: "Dear Mora, if the tribute makes you unhappy, I can return to the tribe to prepare a richer tribute for you, please don't abandon me." ”

The old man shook his head and replied in the same barbarian language: "No need, there will be no more sword tombs in this world soon..."

In Uda's heart, Mora is naturally an omnipotent existence, and such an existence naturally does not have the concept of death, and Uda's understanding of what the old man said inevitably turns into thoughts such as Mora is leaving the world.

He was immediately distraught, and led the tribute procession to bow to the old man again and again, and said something in his mouth, probably praying for Mora not to leave and continue to fool the southern wilderness.

The old man smiled bitterly and shook his head, and finally put away his thoughts about it in detail with these barbarians, not unwillingly, but this kind of thing was too complicated for these barbarians after all.

He simply turned around and stepped into the Sword Tomb.

Uda looked at the old man's departing back, and their hold on gradually turned into a terrible cry.

The old man listened to the voice in his ears, and for some reason he felt a little melancholy in his heart, he sighed, but he still took another step...

And then the barbarians once again heard the song of Mora, a song that had been passed down from generation to generation by the barbarians, in a language they did not understand...

There is a grave in the Southern Wilderness.

Don't bury the guests.

If you don't bury, you don't return.

There is a man in the mound.

Guarding the Thousands of Blades.

Defend it for eternity.

The sun rises, and the yellow sand sinks.

When the bright moon comes, the rivers roll.

He's waiting, he's waiting.

The nine petals of the lotus flower open, and the immortals fall into the dust...

At the end of the song, Mora sighed.

"Alas... I won't see that day after all..."

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