Fan Xian's left hand tightly held the iron hammer inserted in his chest and abdomen, feeling the coldness coming from the metal, and as the blood gushed out, he felt a chilling sweetness in his nose and throat, and even his body became cold.

The black cloth that was close at hand was still not stained with starry dust, and the face was pure and immature, without a trace of wrinkles, but it seemed to tell a story that lasted for hundreds of thousands of years.

Fan Xian looked at this familiar face in a daze, but found that he could no longer find a trace of familiarity from this face, obviously it was still this face, it was obviously still this black cloth, but he clearly knew that the person in front of him was no longer Uncle Wuzhu, at least at this moment, he was not Uncle Wuzhu.

Obviously, this person is the other person, but the Si person is not the other person, and after twenty years of getting along, if they meet strangers at this time, what a sad and gloomy thing.

............ When Fan Xian saw the big box behind Wang Shisanlang, he had a jǐng message in his heart, and he didn't find Uncle Wuzhu, the pleasure of completing the greatest purpose of the temple, because he was keenly aware of the slightest problem. For the temple, Uncle Wuzhu was the most powerful and senior messenger at the beginning, but now he is the biggest traitor, because Uncle Wuzhu protects his mother and himself, the temple does not know how many messengers died in the hands of Uncle Wuzhu, since the temple finally accused Uncle Wuzhu, how could he be placed in a place where Wang Shisanlang could find it at will.

Unless the temple can be sure that it can completely control Wuzhu, it will not care about Wuzhu's movements, and it is based on this judgment that Fan Xian ordered Wang Shisanlang to break out of the temple with the box in the first time, he firmly believes that as long as it is out of the scope of the temple, the temple will no longer be able to control Wuzhu, but this qiē reaction is too late.

A black light flashed in the air, the box broke, and Wuzhu, covered with a black cloth, instantly killed Fan Xian from behind Wang Shisanlang, and put his body up like one, as if he didn't know Fan Xian at all, let alone never gave up for Fan Xian's mother and son.

The moment he saw the black light, Fan Xian couldn't help but think of the scene many years ago that Master Sean relayed, when the gate of the temple opened, the four-year-old ice and snow fairy Ye Qingmei escaped from the temple gate, and a black light flashed out like this, and with only one move, he smashed the bitter lotus into a gourd that rolled on the ground.

Fan Xian stared at the black cloth on Wuzhu's face, feeling the sharp pain in his chest and abdomen, and knew what method the temple had used to erase Uncle Wuzhu's memory again, even ...... It was wiped blank.

Blood poured out from between Fan Xian's lips, his face was pale, but his eyes were extremely determined, and he raised his right hand with difficulty and quickly, stopping Haitang and Wang Shisanlang's angry action under shock.

Because he knew that in the face of Uncle Wuzhu, Haitang and Wang Shisanlang had no power to fight back at all, and once they joined the battle group, there was only one way out. If you want to get out of this most dangerous situation right now, you can only rely on yourself!

............ Blood gushed out, Fan Xian shrank on the iron hammer in pain, looking extremely miserable, but he could still think, he didn't die immediately, and he could even raise his right hand to stop Haitang and Wang Shisanlang's actions in grief, which can only prove that Wuzhu's unusually strong and accurate stab did not stab him to the vital point.

This is a very difficult thing to understand, with the realm of Wuzhu to kill people, except for those great masters in the world, who can be spared? Not to mention that Fan Xian was seriously injured and sick, and he must not even think that under Wuzhu's hands, Fan Xian could still survive, so the voice that sounded in all directions was silent, as if waiting for Wuzhu to judge Fan Xian's life and death.

Yes, no one can avoid Wuzhu's shot, but Fan Xian can!

Since in that grocery store, Wuzhu dedicated the kitchen knife in his hand to Fan Xian, on the cliff of Shanzhou, accompanied by those slightly salty and humid sea breezes, Fan Xian has been welcoming Wuzhu's stick education every day, and the shrunken little yellow flower has finally become much tougher after being broken countless times.

Thousands of shots, Fan Xian doesn't know how many bruises have appeared on his body, but fortunately, he has the ability to survive in the world, abnormal jīng wonderful body style, and more importantly, he is the one in this world who knows the most about the direction and speed of Wuzhu's shots.

It's just that in the past tens of thousands of educations, Wuzhu held the wooden stick in his hand, and today he is holding a sharp iron chisel in his hand. Fan Xian couldn't completely avoid this thorn, but at the moment before the black light came to his body, he forcibly turned around with his skillful and instinctive avoidance method, so that the passage of the iron drill avoided his heart and lung lobes, which seemed to be gushing blood, but in fact it only hurt the heart socket under the ribs.

Wuzhu's head was slightly lowered, the black cloth was fluttering in the cold breeze, there was not the slightest emotion on his face, and he couldn't see if this peerless powerhouse was surprised that the human in front of him was able to avoid his own sting, in the eyes of others, he just maintained that action and pierced Fan Xian on the iron drill.

"My mother can't believe it. This is a sentence that Fan Xian said while coughing up blood, just after this sentence, Wuzhu was silent for a moment, and suddenly asked indifferently: "Your mother's surname." ”

It was this light, just like a light, that occupied Fan Xian's mind in an instant, allowing him to see a glimmer of the possibility of living, he stared at the black cloth and said, "My mother's surname is Ye." ”

Wuzhu did not react.

"You call her Miss. Fan Xian looked at Uncle Wuzhu with an indifferent face, and for some reason the sadness came from his heart, even more so than the pain at the wound, and said in a sad voice.

Wuzhu still didn't react.

"Her name is Ye Qingmei, my name is Fan Xian, and your name is Wuzhu. Fan Xian spit out the blood foam on his lips, looked at Wuzhu and said viciously, but it touched the wound in his chest and abdomen, and there was a sharp pain, which made his eyes black.

Wuzhu still didn't react, just like these names that he should know the most and were closest to had already disappeared from his mind, although he said a word before, but his whole body was drenched with a chill, like a piece of ice between heaven and earth, which would never melt.

Looking at this piece of ice, looking at the black cloth on the ice, Fan Xian seemed to see a familiar soul, which gradually turned into a point of light, broke away from the body in front of him, flew into the air, and gradually turned into nothingness.

This fact made Fan Xian feel endless panic and sadness, and he faintly felt that he would never see that Uncle Wuzhu again in his life, and this kind of grief made him forget that he was still wearing an iron drill, seriously injured and dying, and was about to say goodbye to this world.

For Fan Xian, who has now seen the changes of the millennium, death is not terrible, what is terrible is that when he dies, he faces the closest person, but he can't recognize himself. He glanced at Wuzhu in despair, a mouthful of blood spurted out, and he knelt weakly in the snow.

Wuzhu slowly withdrew the iron drill, and didn't look at Fan Xian, who was kneeling in front of him, and with a bend of his elbow, the thin cloth cut through the air, and smashed back Wang Shisanlang, who finally couldn't help but launch a sneak attack from behind, with a direct blow.

Then the blind man, covered with a black cloth, without any emotion, walked steadily past the stone platform covered with light snow, and the distance of each step seemed to have been calculated, and he walked to the only intact building in the temple, and then sat down.

It's like a soulless shell, sitting in front of the door of the eternal iceberg treasure again, and began to guard, and began to wait, this waiting, I don't know if it will be tens of thousands of years.

Fan Xian's body finally collapsed in the snow, and blood seeped out of his body. Begonia half-knelt beside him, trying in vain to stop the bleeding for him, forcibly suppressing the sadness and shock in her heart, but she couldn't suppress the tears in her eyes.

Wuzhu didn't make a move to Haitang and Wang Shisanlang, probably because in the temple's view, these two Fan Xian's companions could not affect the overall interests of human beings, and it required these two people to declare the existence of the temple to the world, which was a simple logical judgment and did not involve the rest.

However, Haitang and Wang Shisanlang didn't understand, the two powerhouses of the human world looked at the blind man sitting cross-legged in front of the building, and felt a chill all over their bodies. Especially Haitang, she didn't understand that the blind master would shoot at Fan Xian, and she didn't understand why the blind master wanted to sit in front of that door, but there was a sense in the dark that let her know that maybe in the long years to come, this Fan Xian's closest uncle, the most mysterious cloth master in the world, may be in the temple, not knowing the years in the mountains.

Fan Xian was about to die, but Haitang looked at the expressionless Wuzhu sitting like that, and he also felt an irrepressible chill and a sense of sadness.

The temple was calm again, the gentle and calm voice without the slightest human emotion sounded again, the light snow fell from the sky again, and the surrounding snow-capped mountains glowed with crystal light if they were not the things that existed.

Wuzhu sat indifferently in front of the gate, not moving, unspeakably lonely and lonely.

............ The snow keeps falling, the cold wind blows, people's hearts are rain and snow, loneliness has no pen fun pavilion www.biquge.info, and loneliness has no end. Fan Xian looked at the snow blowing outside the tent through the gap deliberately opened by the tent, without the slightest expression on his face, indifferent like the blind man in the distant snowy mountains.

Haitang and Wang Shisanlang carried him down the snow mountain after hardships and returned to the camping place, thinking that Fan Xian would not survive for more than a day, but they did not expect that Fan Xian would survive with his Xiaoqiang-like vitality.

From the moment he woke up, Fan Xian fell into silence, Haitang and Wang Shisanlang knew that the feelings in his heart were very complicated, so they didn't try to disturb, but just briefly told the scene after he passed out, in fact, until this time, Haitang and Shisanlang still didn't understand why the temple had to kill Fan Xian, and allowed the two of them to live.

Fan Xian's body was very weak, and he was originally meditating in this place where the vitality of heaven and earth was extremely strong, and gradually developed his body, but because of this large amount of blood loss, it was on the verge of abandonment. However, Fan Xian did not have the slightest disappointment and sadness, he just looked at the wind and snow outside the tent indifferently, and looked at it for many days, carefully raising his body.

According to the original plan, after leaving the temple, they had to go south as fast as they could, avoiding as much as possible the heavy snowstorms that would come after the summer, and the most terrible polar night. However, because of Fan Xian's injury, and because of Fan Xian's persistence, the camp stayed at the rear of the Great Snow Mountain and did not move south.

The worries between Begonia Duoduo and Wang Shisanlang these days are getting stronger and stronger, although the trip to the temple has achieved nothing, at least for them, but to be able to enter the temple alive and leave the temple alive is already an impossible task in the world, and they can't hope for more.

Of course, they understood why Fan Xian refused to leave the snow mountain, it was because there was the person he couldn't let go of in the temple in the mountain, but they really didn't know what mortals could do in the face of the mysterious temple.

Haitang and Wang Shisanlang are not Fan Xian, it is impossible to see through the truth of the temple, they only know that even a peerless powerhouse like Wuzhu still does not dare to disobey the order of the temple, and they are ruthless to Fan Xian, who is closest to them. In this case, what can I do if the three of us are outside the snowy mountains?

............ But Fan Xian doesn't think so. If he wants to watch Uncle Wuzhu alone in the Snow Mountain Temple for thousands of years, he won't do anything to kill him. Of course, at this time, Fan Xian had vaguely guessed the true identity of Uncle Wuzhu, but he still used the words lonely and bitter to describe Wuzhu, because he knew that Wuzhu was different from the temple.

Uncle Wuzhu has feelings, there are bonds, not a cold procedure, he is a living person, Fan Xian firmly believes this, because in the dim secret room of the grocery store in Shanzhou, he has seen a smile that is brighter than flowers, and after recuperating from his injuries in Dadongshan, Uncle Wuzhu is becoming more and more like a person.

When did this change begin, Fan Xian didn't know, maybe it was countless thousands of years ago, the messenger covered with a black cloth, as a divine envoy, wandered among the various human tribes and saw too many human joys and sorrows? Or is it because a few decades ago, all of a sudden, there was a jīng spirit-like being, because no one could know about it, appeared in the world, appeared in the temple, and in the process of getting along with that little girl, Uncle Wuzhu was inspired to do something?

Fan Xian didn't want to pursue this, and he didn't need to pursue this, he only knew that when he was reborn into this world, he was leaning on Uncle Wuzhu's back, and the first person he saw was Uncle Wuzhu.

Uncle Wuzhu's back is warm, and although his eyes have never looked at it, he also has feelings when he thinks about it.

Fan Xian didn't know how the temple regained control of Uncle Wuzhu, maybe it was similar to brainwashing, maybe it was restarted, maybe it was formatted? In short, the light of life with wisdom and emotion in Wuzhu's body was not visible at all.

This fact made Fan Xian feel extremely sad and angry, he couldn't watch this scene happen, and he didn't do anything at all, because for him, the powerful existence of the withered temple was just Uncle Wuzhu's body, and if Uncle Wuzhu's soul was not recovered, he would wait for Uncle Wuzhu to die.

More than twenty years ago, during the purge operation between the temple and the emperor Lao Tzu, Wuzhu killed several messengers from the temple, but he was also seriously injured, in the words of Chen Pingping and Wuzhu himself, he forgot a lot of things.

This kind of amnesia must be caused by the means of the temple, but fortunately, Wuzhu forgot some things from before in recent years, but he remembered the recent events very clearly, he remembered Ye Qingmei, and he also remembered Fan Xian, but Wuzhu in the snow mountain today didn't remember anything.

Fan Xian's eyes drooped slightly, but an extremely bright light flashed in his pupils, his body was still weak, but his confidence was extremely sufficient, he would not leave the snow mountain, he must return to the temple to bring Uncle Wuzhu back!

Because he didn't die, Wuzhu's thorn didn't kill him!

Fan Xian accurately judged that the temple should not be able to fully control Uncle Wuzhu's completely different life, at least those few names, those names engraved in Uncle Wuzhu's life, successfully interfered with Uncle Wuzhu's behavior, so that he did not kill Fan Xian.

With Wuzhu's ability, it is too simple to judge Fan Xian's life or death, but he let Fan Xian live, this is Fan Xian's current confidence, he believes that Uncle Wuzhu will definitely wake up one day.

Many, many years ago, Ye Qingmei escaped from the temple with the help of Kuhe and Sean, and walked south in the wind and snow, and then a certain little girl, who was four years old at the time, sighed, looked at the north at the mouth of the tent, and said: "He is too pitiful." ”

Many, many years later, the seriously injured Fan Xian left the temple with the help of Haitang and Wang Shisanlang, but he didn't leave at all, and he didn't sigh, because he would not abandon the poor blind man at all and return to the prosperous world by himself.

Ye Qingmei later bravely returned to the temple, took Wuzhu with him, stole the box, and left again. Fan Xian also has to go back, the past few decades seem to have fallen into some kind of cycle again, but this kind of cycle does not make people feel the slightest boredom, and there is only a faint sense of warmth.

When Fan Xian was able to walk, the wind and snow around the snow mountain were already extremely strong, and he walked towards the snow mountain for the second time, just like his mother Ye Qingmei's choice back then, because both their mother and son were reluctant to give up that person...... Alone.