Xue Chongzhen deliberately raised his voice, just to scare and scare this student who was full of lies. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

Thick-skinned people naturally have no bad quality in their hearts.

Although Wang Dajian was panicked in his heart, his cheeky face was not obvious, and he couldn't see any frightened expression.

Besides, he came prepared, and after entering the house, he kept his head down, not letting Xue Chongzhen see his gaze.

When the student chatted with a few old friends from his father, he heard that Mr. calligraphy was a must in the Tang Dynasty. ”

He secretly raised his eyes to take a look, and found that Xue Chongzhen's face was not angry, and his courage grew again.

"On my father's fiftieth birthday, the student wants to ask Mr. for a pair of ink treasures to celebrate his father, and hopes that Mr. will fulfill the student's filial piety ......"

Wang Dajian's brain melon was very responsive, and once he found out that Xue Chongzhen had seen through the lie, he skipped it and didn't mention it.

Thinking of the old man's birthday, he immediately made it up. When praising the other party's calligraphy first, do not forget to express your filial piety and respect for the elder.

This way of putting gold on his face really worked, Xue Chongzhen pondered for a long time, and sighed: "It's hard for you to have such filial piety! I don't care if you are false or false, I just hope that you can really honor your parents in the future!"

He sat down and spread out the rice paper on the table, pressing one hand on the corner of the desk and gently grinding the ink with the other.

Looking at Wang Dajian, there was love in his eyes.

"Don't ask you to lie on the ice and beg for carp, strangle the tiger to save your father, as long as you get rid of the problem of rhetoric, be able to do practical work, and fill in the mess for your elders, it is your greatest filial piety. ”

After speaking, he hung his wrist and stopped his pen, with a solemn look on his face, and then quickly clicked the pen on the paper, moved his wrist lightly, and suddenly wrote out a large character.

Wang Dajian secretly let out a long breath, and watched Xue Chongjian swing his pen intently, and when he finished writing, he was very discerning to clean up the pen and ink for Mr., and then rolled up the written rice paper, saluted and thanked him, and left the teaching office as quickly as possible.

Xue Chongzhen watched Wang Dajian walk a long way and sat alone in front of the window.

Outside the window, the leaves on the willow trees had already fallen, and the sky in Chang'an was gray, but not exactly the gloomy weather.

If it's clear or cloudy, it's probably going to snow.

Xue Chongzhen sighed softly: "A person is incognito, it is not the work of the eldest husband, why is Xue afraid of other people's comments? ”

He didn't know that Wang Dajian was lying, but in the face of his juniors, this marquis who had cultivated to the realm of a great grandmaster couldn't help but show his love.

Back then, a horse with a single sword, how happy it was to kill people! Now that he is too stealthy, he is too learned, but he can't help himself.

He didn't blame Wang Dajian, because the child mentioned his parents and expressed filial piety.

This is the pain in Xue Chongzhen's heart, he is ashamed of his parents, his wife and children, now he has an empty ambition, an empty body of unrivaled vast sword qi that can be walked alone, what can he do?

He has done so many wrong things in his life, too many to count, just as the wine he drank turned into sorrow.

He is not afraid of revealing his identity, this is just a good intention of His Majesty the Emperor.

Xue Chongjian picked up the wine jug on the table, poured a full glass, and took a sip, with a hint of imperceptible loneliness in his eyes.

..................

Xue Chongjian's pen and ink were not watched in the Tai Academy, and when he returned to Yaoshan, Zhuo Zangfeng couldn't wait to open the rice paper, and after just one glance, his people were completely stunned.

This painting is full of rich and graceful meaning, and the strokes are round and smooth, like mountains and flowing water, and deep space and clouds. Looking at one of the eyes is full of paper smoke, but it looks majestic and majestic.

Just like a high-level kendo master, swinging a sword at will can bring up the vitality of heaven and earth.

Zhuo Zangfeng's hands trembled, and under the lights of the autumn night, cold sweat suddenly penetrated his clothes.

It's him, he's the marquis of a sword, and he's the marquis who killed the old Taoist.

Thinking of this, the bloody and tragic image of the old Taoist priest cutting off his finger appeared in his mind, and he seemed to be able to hear the old man's miserable cry in his ears.

There is also the frightened look in the old Taoist priest's eyes when he woke up in a dream countless times.

All this is engraved in his heart and can never be forgotten.

At this time, thinking of this old Taoist priest who had raised him, one of the relatives in his heart, he could no longer calm himself down.

His blood burned, and his anger was like a roaring torrent.

Zhuo Zangfeng's blood surged, took out the night suit that Mo Ya had hidden under the box, stuck the short sword in his waist, and walked out of the house without saying a word.

The night clothes and short swords were both sent by His Royal Highness Yueyue, and they were meant to be fun at the time, but now they come in handy.

Mo Ya chased after him and asked, he only said that he went out to practice swords, as for the strange way that the girl in the back muttered about practicing swords, he had already gone away.

In order to avoid revealing his identity, he did not ride a horse, but walked in the air, and soon fell in front of the Xue Mansion.

At this time, it was midnight, and the people of Chang'an were already asleep after a hard day's work.

A crescent moon rises in the sky, surrounded by a howling cold wind.

Zhuo Zangfeng held the hilt of the short sword and jumped into the mansion.

There is still a light in a house in Xue's mansion, but the strange thing is that Xue Chongzhen seems to be the only one living here, and this famous marquis doesn't even have a servant.

He held his breath and stared at the light.

The cold wind blew on his face like a knife, and although his head was tightly wrapped and only his two eyes were exposed, he could still feel this murderous aura.

Zhuo Zangfeng suddenly stopped.

"This Sword Marquis's cultivation is so profound, how can I be his opponent?"

It was only at this moment that he thought of this question of life and death.

However, having come to this point, he is no longer thinking about this question, whether he is alive or dead, it is no longer important.

In the words of Yueyue and Mo Ya, "he is too stubborn", "stubborn as an ox", once he decides something, even if he knows that there are many difficulties and dangers ahead, he will never back down.

This may not be the "stupidity" in Yao Caiwei's mouth, it should be the "stupidity" that the master said. ”

The cold wind is still howling.

Not far away, a figure was reflected in the window, with a long figure, it was Xue Chongjian.

The blood conflict roared in Zhuo Zangfeng's body, and he couldn't tolerate it anymore.

I can't tolerate the person who killed the old Taoist priest to live a good life, and I can't tolerate my cowardice in private.

He gently drew his short sword, condensing his vitality to the blade.

In the darkness, like a cat, he bowed and flicked, and pointed the sword in his hand at the shadow in the window.

In the face of a cultivator who has cultivated too much to himself, he has to take the lead and take advantage of it when he is caught off guard. Even if you can't kill the opponent, even if you stab him, there will be a glimmer of hope of victory.

A sword aura pierced the night, cutting through the cold wind.

The edge of the sword is reflected by the crescent moon, emitting a breathtaking light.

The sword is in front, the person is behind, suddenly like a flying feather off the string, Zhuo Zangfeng condensed the vast vitality on the short sword, and sent a fatal blow. (To be continued.) )