The rain, hanging in the sky, does not want to fall.

The dense jungle outside Los Angeles has no end in sight, the light is blocked from the treetops, and among the overgrown grass stand two tombs that are neither tall nor short.

A man, carrying a large jar of spirits, with his left hand on the right tombstone, and his right foot resting casually on the mound on the left, with a slight smile on his face, but the smile was mixed with three points of gloom.

The person is He Wangshu, the two tombstones are written on the eleven and twelve respectively, and the word "tomb" is engraved below with a strong and powerful stele, which is about to be submerged by the weeds that grow.

He was still in Los Angeles last moment, staring at the whereabouts of Mozong and his party, and at the same time explaining to Qiu Fang the next accounts to be settled, and at this moment, he pulled out a jar of old wine from behind the tombstone and held it in his hand, as if he had already prepared here.

"You guys, two cups?"

He muttered, his hand trembling as he touched each of the two tombstones, and the crisp sound echoed through the forest.

This sentence is like saying it to the heavens, and it is like saying it to the tomb.

Eighteen years ago, there was an earth-shattering battle 100 miles away from Los Angeles, as for why it was outside the city, it was naturally because those powerful people with advanced Taoism were afraid that the lives of Los Angeles would be ruined, so they had a kind heart and found a deserted place to do it.

It is impossible to study how many forces participated in that war, and how many days and nights the battle lasted, anyway, in the end, only the Dongjimen and Mozong families were able to grow steadily. After that war, I don't know how many sects and gangs have disappeared since then, and I don't know how many dead and wounded people have been separated from the yin and yang in the world.

He Wangshu only knew that he and Xiong Junqi had lost two junior brothers.

Lost from the hands of Mo Zong.

He gulped down the wine, which dipped from his lips, and two trickles wet the clothes on his chest.

"Lao Jiu went to find a place for you."

He Wangshu was still muttering to himself, he put down the wine jar, pulled his sleeves, wiped the residual wine from the corners of his mouth, and looked into the distance.

I heard thunder in a silent place, but the rain still refused to fall.

Wu Qiufang looked up at the sky, the autumn breeze brought a little autumn cold, a little dark fragrance, and the young man couldn't help but wrap his clothes.

"Senior Brother Wu, you've drunk too much."

As soon as he came out of the city gate of Los Angeles, there was a gold armor and silver on the head of the city, and Zhao Yunzhu and Wu Qiufang walked side by side under the city head, quietly blaming the latter, and looked at Li Changfeng who was drunk on Zhang Qi's back from time to time.

The young man scratched his head embarrassedly, he didn't want to put the responsibility on Li Changfeng, and he didn't want to answer again.

For he knew that the end of the road was the end of their walk.

At the front of the group, the Bone Demon Envoy and the Luxu Daoist were greeting each other.

"Mr. Bone, why don't you send it here."

The Luxu Taoist bowed his hand and bowed slightly.

"Although a hundred miles is long, it is not as deep as friendship, let me send another Taoist friend."

The bone demon made a bowful return, and said with a smile. The theory of friendship is of course false, but Mozong has a rule that sending guests must be hundreds of miles away, which is true.

At the noon banquet, compared with Ye Yun's grandfather and grandson, Lu Xu Daoren was clearly down, and he didn't even have a full meal, so he hurriedly set off to return to the mountain.

"You guys, maybe the sky?"

Lu Xu Daoist turned back to the disciples and said, saying that it is you, but in fact it only refers to Qiu Fang and Zhang Qi. Second, Zhang Qi carried Li Changfeng on his back, and he didn't know if his movements were restricted.

"Master, I'm not in the way, it's just Senior Brother Wu, hum."

Zhang Qi snorted coldly, never forgetting to mock Qiu Fang.

"It's okay, I'll help my junior brother."

The corners of Zhao Yunzhu's mouth twitched, and he smiled indifferently. The strength of this arm is really a arm's strength, and her right hand holds Qiu Fang's arm, and it seems that she wants to use her strength to drag him down.

Seeing this, Lu Xu flicked his sleeves and rose into the air, and everyone in Zhenghou Mountain followed up. The Bone Demon Envoy glanced into the air, and followed as well.

Qiu Fang soared in the air with Zhao Yunzhu's hand, and glanced forward with a deep gaze.

A hundred miles away, three or two raindrops fell.

Xiong Junqi tied his hair behind and sat on the stone path. A long sword hung alone beside him, the hilt resting silently against the rock.

His dark eyes are light, and his heart is deeply hidden, like a thousand years of ice, indifferent.

Eighteen years have passed, so that the once potholed battlefield is covered with weeds, and the blood of the cultivators has penetrated the soil, digging seven or eight feet into the ground, maybe it can dig out a handful of dry bones.

A gust of wind blew, blowing away Xiong Junqi's memories, he was waiting, waiting for this day and waiting for the group.

At the edge of the sky, a few black dots appeared, and the figures of the Bone Demon Envoy and the Luxu Dao people came into the sky, and they were the people Xiong Junqi was waiting for.

The sound of swords rose into the sky, disturbing everyone.

The Bone Demon Envoy and the Lu Dao Man looked at each other, the cold-faced man buried his head in the sword, his sleeves fluttered gently in the wind, and the handsome sword eyebrows were very straight, twisted together, with a hint of coldness.

In the old land, when you meet the old people, you will mention the old things.

The Bone Demon Envoy knew that the trembling and chirping sword was waiting for him.

One step, two steps, three steps... The group fell from the sky, and the light rain dripped and disappeared into their clothes in the blink of an eye.

Qiu Fang looked sideways at his tenth uncle, and remembered what He Wangshu said through the beak of the blackbird: "When you go out of the city, if you meet the old ten, help him." ”

Qiu Fang still remembered that He Wangshu's voice was extremely weird, like excitement, like sadness, like a relief, he didn't understand why Xiong Junqi was sitting on the stone road, he only knew that there was an account, and he had to settle it today.

"This fellow Daoist is also a sword cultivator?"

At a glance, the Luxu Daoist saw that Xiong Junqi's kendo cultivation was definitely not weak, so he spoke first.

The ninth and eleventh people of Dongjimen are usually not famous, He Wangshu does not like to ask about the world, and Xiong Junqi also lives in a simple place and only cares about cultivating swords. Therefore, the people of Zhenghou Mountain only knew that there were still ten disciples of the second generation of Dongji Gate, but they didn't know that one of them did not cultivate the Fu Dao and instead cultivated the Sword Dao.

"It's none of your business, just go."

Xiong Junqi said coldly, his eyes were as cold as frost.

"Daoist friend's words are too much..."Lu Xu Daoren saw the other party open his mouth and spit thorns, frowned, and was about to step forward to say a word or two, but was interrupted by a hoarse voice.

"Daoist Luxu, this person is Xiong Junqi from the East Pole Gate."

The Bone Demon Envoy stretched out his hand to stop the Luxu Daoist who wanted to come forward, his mind was full of thoughts, he had also thought about this place and this scene, and even knew that sooner or later there would be such a day.

In the melee eighteen years ago, the eleventh and twelfth of the East Pole Gate were killed by him and the other two ink envoys, and the forces of both sides have expanded rapidly over the years, and they are still maintaining a certain degree of restraint, and the high-level figures have not revisited that blood feud.

But today, he also understands that Xiong Junqi is seeking revenge. After all, a few days ago, he secretly plotted and injured Cao Zibu, the old man of Dongjimen on the way back, breaking the status quo of restraint among the high-level officials.

"Dongji Gate, there are actually sword cultivators?"

Lu Xu Daoist said suspiciously, since the opening of the East Pole Gate, in the eyes of Zhenghou Mountain, they all belong to the branch of the Fu Dao that has betrayed it, and they have decided in their hearts that it is impossible for anyone to practice swordsmanship, so they naturally have this question.

"Today I only want his life, if you leave, I will not stop you."

Xiong Junqi gritted his teeth and said word by word.

"Hmph, speak wildly." The Bone Demon Envoy let out a low snort, and a hideous sneer appeared on his face.

Luxu Daoist still wanted to hold up his righteous person's shelf, stroked his long beard, and persuaded unhurriedly: "Why should Daoist friends be so aggressive. As far as I know, there is indeed a dispute between the Dongji Gate and the Mo Sect, but there is something that can't..."

Before he could finish speaking, Xiong Junqi stood up expressionlessly, glanced at everyone and said, "Then you can do it together." ”

As soon as the words fell, the sword roared again.

The long sword was glowing with frost and killing intent, and it was in front of the Bone Demon Envoy and the Luxu Daoist.

"Xiong Junqi, don't deceive people too much." The Bone Demon made himself confident that someone would help him, and he didn't think that he would be defeated, but he still didn't dare to be careless in his heart, and said awe-inspiringly.

Xiong Junqi didn't answer, just looked down at the long sword in his hand.

Life is a dream, white clouds and dogs. No matter how many years the old things are buried in the dust of memories, the bonds will never dissipate like smoke. Even if you are in the world, then no one can avoid grievances and hatred.

The eleventh and twelfth are the latest, and their age is indeed similar to He Wangshu and Xiong Junqi, just like the relationship between Wu Mashuo, Yan Qingyun and Zhou Zong, the four of them practice together, have fun together, and go through ups and downs together.

It's just that now, his death is like a lamp going out, and he once thought that he could let it go, but when the enemies saw each other, he knew that it was just 18 years of hiding.

There was a sword of murderous intent surging from his chest.

Lu Xu's hand holding the sword was clenched very tightly, but his heart was very wide, and he just mocked: "I see that Daoist friends are alone, is it too unkind to take us in their eyes." ”

After that, Lu Xu Daoist stretched out his hand and pointed back, the four disciples of Zhenghou Mountain had already set up a formation, of course, the drunk Li Changfeng was not included.

"Together?"

Xiong Junqi cherished words like gold, and turned his face to Wu Qiufang after his disguise.

Seeing Xiong Junqi asking Wu Qiufang, the mockery on his face became more and more intense.

"Haha, he has already entered Zhenghou Mountain, and now he is my disciple, do you say he is with us or with you?"

Thinking that he had such a talented and intelligent baby apprentice, Lu Xu Daoren could no longer pretend to be reserved with his usual tone, and laughed heartily.

"Really?"

Xiong Junqi asked rhetorically, if he told him that the so-called disciples were just people sent by the Dongji Sect to play with them, I am afraid that this Dao Master would vomit three liters of blood on the spot.

"Uncle Ten has already explained to his disciples."

Qiu Fang suddenly replied respectfully, and the faces of those present were shocked, but they could not get a glimpse of the whole picture of the matter from this short sentence.

"Come on."

Xiong Junqi called.

The autumn boat rose and fell, and it came to Xiong Junqi's side.

"Apprentice, you?"

Lu Xu Daoren pointed at Wu Qiufang, his eyes widened and asked, I don't know if it was the grief of gaining and losing, or the confusion of this situation, so that he didn't dare to ask the next sentence.

"I'm sorry, everybody."

In the end, it is the heart of a young man, although he has a trace of shame in his heart, but the fact that the relatives are happy and the enemies are painful makes him feel secretly refreshed.

Thinking of this, Qiu Fang turned around, revealing that handsome and remarkable face, with a slight smile on the corner of his mouth, looking at everyone levelly.

"Master, he is a person sent by the East Pole Sect!"

Zhang Qi saw through this situation and hurriedly shouted.

"Shut up!"

Lu Xu Daoren's eyes were wide with anger, his beard was horizontal and vertical, and a cold cold light burst out of his eyes, and he gritted his teeth and said: "Okay, good, the poor road has been crisscrossing the world for decades, and I have fallen for the way of a hairy boy like you, if I don't pick your skin today, I will have no face to return to the mountain!" ”

As soon as the words fell, the long sword in his hand came straight towards Qiufang.

"I am the one who will take your lives!"

Xiong Junqi's eyes were cold, and his sword moved with the sound, heading straight towards the Luxu Daoist and the Bone Demon Envoy, and he could see that he was going to fight one against two.

"Senior brother, you lied to us?"

The three third-class people present took the lead, obviously handing over Wu Qiufang to Zhang Qi and Zhao Yunzhu to cook, after all, in their eyes, Qiufang hadn't even left the realm of mortals.

"I'm sorry, Zhao... Girl. ”

Qiu Fang said slightly apologetically, after all, the positions are different, and it is helpless to fight each other.

"Senior sister, you take a break, his little cultivation is not enough for me to stuff my teeth." Zhang Qi said coldly, obviously not taking Wu Qiufang in his eyes.

Zhao Yunzhu didn't answer in a daze, she didn't seem to want to believe that the junior brother she had been defending for many days was a liar.

Qiu Fang also fell silent.

"Hmph, pick up your sword."

Zhang Qi scoffed.

"Not necessarily."

Qiu Fang said coldly. As soon as the words fell, the blue light of his fingertips suddenly appeared.

The sound of the rain is getting louder.