Yang Zheng's post is like a flying arrow, like a yellow crane.

He fantasized that his posts were like the heroes who gathered the world's heroes in martial arts novels.

Sooner or later, he will find the swordsman he wants.

In fact, it doesn't matter if it's a big or small swordsman, or a new or old swordsman. Yang Zheng felt that as long as they were willing to accept the guidance of the chess nerd, a peerless swordsman, they would also become peerless swordsmen.

Yang Zheng also thought about the difference between peerless swordsmen and ordinary swordsmen. It's probably whether he can pull out the sword in his heart.

Everyone should have a sword hidden in their hearts. Some people hide their swords so that only the hilt remains, while others have half of the sword body shining in their hearts.

Some of the half-cut sword bodies that were lit up were rusty, and some were as cold and bright as people.

Draw the sword and swing the sword, just like the piece on the chessboard.

The end of a swordsman is to defeat the enemy in front of him, or be defeated by the enemy.

And the player's mission is also to shoot down the opponent, or be shot down by the opponent.

In this way, a swordsman is a chess player, and a chess player is also a swordsman.

In this era of peace, chess is undoubtedly the easiest battlefield for everyone to see and the easiest to touch, in this battlefield there is no distinction between men and women, young and old, only swordsmanship.

Those who are superb in swordsmanship, even if they are already in their prime, he can also pull out his sword weapon and move the four directions, and the heavens and the earth will be low for a long time.

A person with unparalleled chess skills, even if he is just an ignorant teenager, he can come like a thunderbolt to collect anger, and he can be like a river and a sea condensing a clear light.

A sword is chess, and chess is also a sword. The world is inside and outside, inside and outside the chessboard. Only distinguish between high and low, but also decide life and death.

……

Yang Zheng still overestimated himself, this martial arts sticker, except for summoning a few passers-by who laughed at whether there were real swordsmen in this world, did not summon any masters.

Indeed, it is the way it should be. Even the immortal masters who are hidden in the city, they are also thinking about what to eat tomorrow with a sad face between opening and closing their eyes.

They have been fighting hard for most of their lives, and they must not want their children and grandchildren to pull out the sword in their hearts and go through their lives bumpily like them.

Besides, the age on the hero's post is also a big joke. Those immortal swordsmen in their seventies had already put down the sword in their hearts, looked at the sunset for the rest of their lives, and considered their own burial sword place.

But there are still surprises.

There was still an old man who came to the chess room, wanting to sharpen the sword in his heart one last time before finding the place where he buried his sword.

It was a sunny day, the sky was blue, and there was nothing but three clouds that were entwined together and could not tell what kind of demons and monsters they were.

This is also the third day that Yang Zheng has finished posting the hero post.

The old king, walking into the Huajia Chess Club step by step with a cane.

Lao Wang Tou is an old man who lives far away from the chess club, I heard that he is 80 years old this year, and he always feels that he has no more years to live.

The old king was a warrior, a warrior who did not succumb to fate. For the sake of his family, he tried his best to pull out the not sharp sword in his heart, reluctantly cut off the thorns in front of him, and tried his best to step a sheep intestine path for future generations.

Now, he is old, not only in age, but in sword.

He should have been living in his old age, and he didn't want to dance all day long like those old people who disliked young people. He also didn't want to reminisce about his youthful past like many old people. He only wished that when the sun went down, he would be able to hold up his head and see the moon.

As he gets older, he has long forgotten what he looks like.

The wrinkles on the back of the hand resemble the annual rings of a tree. The shriveled fingers are like stubborn and yellow weeds.

Filial sons and daughters, lovely grandchildren, the most important concern in this life, and like the thorns that he once cut back from the dead and came back to life, trapped him in a small cage.

He wanted to cut through the thorns again and live a new life for himself.

But he is old, his body is rotten, his fingers are broken, and his sword is rotten.

He could only sit by the big window like a silhouette in a shadow puppet play, watching the clouds roll up and down.

He should compromise, because compromise represents happiness.

But he still wants to hold the sword again and borrow it from the sky for another eighty years!

By chance, he saw an advertisement for enrollment in the chess room from his grandson's computer. He squinted at the word swordsman, and he seemed to hear his aging heart pounding like a young man.

He wants to be a swordsman again, but this time, he doesn't want to be a swordsman who protects others, he wants to be a swordsman who belongs to his own heart.

So, here he came.

Came with the Rotten Sword.

……

"My name is Wang Fugui, and I am seventy-eight years old." Wang Fugui lied about his age, his hand holding the cane was trembling, and his face was as white as a ginseng fruit.

"Are you here to sign up for your grandchildren?" Yang Zheng looked at the thin Wang Fugui and wanted to step forward to help. But Wang Fugui's next sentence made Yang Zheng freeze in place.

"No, I'm here to sign myself up."

Wang Fugui's voice is very loud, and his voice is also full of power. This powerful voice not only ran through the chessboard, but also made the chess nerd raise his head and look at Wang Fugui seriously.

"Are you kidding..."Although Yang Zheng was mentally prepared to recruit older students when he posted, he didn't expect such an older student to come so soon, and this unreal impact made him feel at a loss.

What's more, Wang Fugui doesn't look very well, what if something happens in the chess room?

But the chess nerd didn't seem to think about it so much, she just looked at Wang Fugui seriously. She first swept it from head to toe, and finally focused all her eyes on Wang Fugui's big hand.

It was ten fingers as rough and slender as weeds, and the fingers were as black and wrinkled as weeds, as if these palms were a piece of black earth that was dry to the point of cracks everywhere, and those ten weeds were the last stubbornness and hope in this black land.

"Next?" The voice of the chess nerd jumped again.

"Okay." Wang Fugui was also eager to try, he looked at the chess nerd clean and simple, not mixed with any eyes that despised him because of his age, and his steps became brisk.

He missed Yang Zheng, the sunlight outside the window, the people who looked at him with curious eyes, and the spotless white tiles on the ground.

The only thing he didn't miss was a chess nerd.

He sat opposite the chess nerd, looking at the chessboard that had just been placed, and his whole temperament was different.

The smell of decay and decay gradually brightened, and the two fingers holding the chess pieces were full of life as if the sun was setting after the rain.

He pinched a red soldier and pushed it forward, leaving only concentration in his cloudy eyes.

Although he was hunched over because of his age, his pinched fingers exuded an unstoppable sharpness.

It's really hard to help but say, what a clumsy old sword!