There was only wine on the long shrine case, and behind the shrine was a tombstone.

Three names, three names of people who have been licking blood in the rivers and lakes for a long time.

Their lives have passed, they have parted with the rivers and lakes, everything has parted, but their stories are still there, so Yu Wei is still there, so the words on the tombstones can still make most people in the rivers and lakes frightened and depressed.

The cold, hard tombstones, the three pitch-black names still glittered in the firelight, as if they were struggling, wailing, struggling, wailing their resentment and pain.

These three names are the Parting Sword King, the Robe Blood King, and the Destiny Hammer King.

The wine has been spilled, and the spirit has been honored.

The feathers were still shaking violently, and her cheeks appeared serene and calm, without an expression of pain or sadness.

Turning around like a lifeless stone statue, her eyes had fallen on her bones, the cold wind fluttered, and the blood-red feathers swayed, and only blood swayed.

Drop by drop.

Who is the one who made the shot? Is it really a ghost?

Yang Qing held the cloak and stared at the lifeless back, the stone statue-like back motionless.

Harder and calmer than a tombstone.

"She's dead."

"Yes"

"Do you know who killed him?"

Speechless, his empty eyes darker than the night, darker than the words on the tombstones, staring and poking into the distance like a spear.

Two lanterns hung on both sides of the carriage, and the pink lanterns were already swaying in the cold wind, as if two demon girls were dancing and estrus in the lonely night.

The lantern was dancing and in heat, and he was still smiling.

The smile of dementia not only seems indescribably demented and honest, but also indescribably gloomy and weird.

The old coachman smiled stupidly, and walked towards lifelessness with a smile.

Stopped at seven feet, the muscles in his cheeks were twitching, but I didn't know if it was fear? Or helpless?

No one spoke, and they did not speak.

Why don't they speak either? Isn't there no need to say it? Don't you bother to say it? Or do they both know each other and have a heart-to-heart connection with each other? Don't need to talk?

The sky and the earth are forested, and the residual leaves are fluttering.

The smile on his cheeks had gradually become gloomy and sad.

The flame of the oil pot is still swaying, and the ripples in the wine jar on the god case are still shaking.

The stone statue stood erect, straighter than the gun in his hand, and his cloak twitched violently.

Yang Qing's hands were even more numb.

A remnant leaf suddenly hit his cheek, as if someone had slapped him again.

There is no one here, but there are ghosts.

The fear in Yang Qing's eyes grew stronger and deeper. "Let's go."

Silent without life.

His eyes stared at and poked the old coachman like a spear, as if he wanted to stab him to death on the ground.

But his body did not move, nor did the gun in his hand.

The smile on his cheeks gradually stiffened and condensed, and he took out a feather fan from his arms.

Caressing each feather, the sadness in his eyes gradually became thicker, so thick that every wrinkle in the corner of his eyes was full of pain and sorrow.

What is he grieving? Why do you want to be born at nothing?

No one understands his thoughts?

Is the old coachman really the old coachman? So how can he explain the feather fan in his hand?

There are so many questions in this, just like there are too many sorrows in his heart.

But no matter how deep the doubt, there is a time when it is revealed; No matter how strong the sorrow is, there is a time when it is washed away.

The feathers on the feather fan twitched violently, and his heart seemed to twitch too, as if he couldn't stand it anymore.

Wusheng didn't speak, and there was no hint of comfort.

Standing like a stone statue, the stone statue looks like an indifferent and noble god, receiving the repentance and grievances of the hearts of the believers.

"You're an old coachman?"

The old coachman was silent and did not move.

"Know the rules?"

The old coachman was silent and did not move.

"Then you come and catch the car."

The old coachman was silent and did not move.

Wusheng was already sighing, "You can speak. ”

The old coachman nodded, "Thank you." ”

Nothing is silent, already waiting.

"You should know who I am?"

"There are two great personal bodies, two protectors, and four heavenly kings in the parting spell, there are not many people holding feather fans in the rivers and lakes, and even fewer people who use feathers to kill people invisibly, it is not accidental that you are close to the master of the parting spell, you are a personal military advisor?"

The military advisor nodded, "But I killed ......." ”

"But you killed the owner of the parting curse?"

The military advisor nodded, speechless.

"You didn't kill the owner of the parting spell."

The military advisor was silent, did not nod, but stared at the lifeless cheeks, and there was no trace of emotion on the cold, hard cheeks.

He was astonished, and he couldn't believe that Wusheng would say such a thing.

"Because she is not the prodigal son of the end of the world at all."

The muscles in the Strategist's cheeks were already throbbing, "How do you know?" ”

Without saying a word, his hand suddenly stretched out and scratched, the cold, stiff bones seemed to have not changed, but the skin on his face had floated up, and suddenly it was in his hand.

White, soft human skin has been twisted.

The military advisor's face was also distorted, "You ......." ”

Speechless, still staring and poking at him.

Where is the real owner of the parting curse? Is it dead? Or do you have big plans?

Wusheng didn't ask him, as if he didn't bother to ask.

Because sooner or later it will be known, no matter what the secret will be, there will be a time when it will be revealed, and he is not in a hurry to know.

Isn't it time to uncover the secret?

"Actually, the owner of the parting spell is long gone, isn't it?"

The advisor nodded.

"You're the one who keeps controlling the parting spell in the back?"

The advisor nodded.

"But the parting spell has two of the four heavenly kings dead."

The advisor nodded.

"Don't you take pity on them?"

The military advisor nodded, "I pity them, and who cares for the owner of the parting spell?" ”

"Willow Ecstasy is still alive?"

The military advisor nodded, "I only know she's alive, but I don't know where she is?" ”

"So you're going to find her, no matter what the cost?"

The military advisor nodded, "Yes, without the master's parting spell, it is not a parting spell, it is just a parting, just a parting of oneself." ”

"Isn't that a big price?"

The Adam's apple was already rolling, and his breathing seemed to be unsteady, as if he had been frightened alive by the heavy price.

Every human life, one by one.

Their price is human life, not their own, or someone else's.

Either you die or I die.

This is the rivers and lakes, Enli hides grievances, grievances contain grievances, grievances and grievances, and who can say it clearly and clearly.

What's right? What's wrong? Right and wrong, who can tell the difference.

So there was only blood, bloody blood still flowing, the cold wind fluttering, the feathers still shaking, fluttering drop by drop, falling into the dark, indifferent night.

In the cold, unforgiving night.

The military advisor gritted his teeth and nodded, "I don't have a choice. ”