Jiang Ye found a blacksmith shop in the city, and inside stood a forty-year-old man with a full beard and a half-naked body, who was forging a piece of iron with an iron hammer.

The blacksmith was steaming hot, and he wore a sweat towel around his neck, which he wiped when the sweat on his forehead seeped into his eyes. The handkerchief, which could be vaguely seen to be a white handkerchief, had been stained and turned gray by him.

Jiang Ye took the peony and asked, "Master, can you repair this sword?"

This is the most famous blacksmith shop in Lingyue City that he heard about, and this man named Zheng Qi has been making iron for more than ten years. He was originally a knife man, he was cut off a leg when fighting with people, his wife and children were killed, and he decided not to touch the knife again in this life after revenge, and then he struck iron with peace of mind, and his exquisite skills were famous in Huainan, so he spent more spirit stones.

The man pulled the bellows, and the flames in the furnace became extremely vigorous. After he looked at the sword in Jiang Ye's hand, he was still holding the hammer and forging the iron piece.

A hammer went up and down, a series of clanging bells, sparks splashed everywhere, and the dull blacksmith shop became bright and dark with the splashing of sparks.

"Fifty spirit stones." The man's words were sonorous.

Jiang Ye finally knew why no one came to this blacksmith shop, and his peony sword was worth more than a hundred spirit stones, so it would cost fifty spirit stones to repair it like this?

Jiang Ye took out the dark night iron again and asked, "Can this be poured on the sword body?"

The man walked up to him and looked at him, and after careful examination, he went back to strike iron, and said, "Two hundred."

Jiang Ye bargained unsuccessfully, so he could only agree to his asking price, so he put forward his request: the dark night dark iron should flow on the surface of the peony sword, so that the peony sword body will be wrapped in it.

The man thought about it and agreed.

Jiang Ye went to Cangyue Pavilion to sell Shang Fu's claws, and to his surprise, he sold seventy spirit stones.

After Jiang Ye inquired, he learned that it was a good material for making secret weapons, these claws could be nourished by the aura of heaven and earth, and the longer the time, the higher the grade, but the highest would not exceed the top grade of Qingxu.

So Jiang Ye left a claw, and it just so happened that the Flying Flower Technique was the sword technique of the Royal Thumb Flying Sword and the Small Sword to kill people. Although it has the meaning of a flying sword, it is completely different.

The flying sword relies on the sword intent, such as the sword with poetry, the sword into the Jiao, the sword by the sky, and the enemy is thousands of miles away; The sword walking relies on the blade of the sword, the sword qi is restrained, and strives for the unity of the body and the sword, and breaks ten thousand laws with one force.

The flying sword gives up its form and seeks its meaning, and the sword gives up its meaning and seeks its shape.

Jiang Ye's roots are poor, the five elements and the wind and thunder in his body are relatively rare and even, and the sword sense is weak, so the flying sword that relies on talent is easy to stagnate, and although the sword cultivation is slow, there is still a trace of vitality.

Fortunately, his mental power is superior, and he can concentrate when practicing swords. I don't know if it has something to do with his experience. He had always guessed that mental power was the embodiment of will. As for what Yunqing said that this is the incarnation of gods and spirits, it is extremely vague in the classics: all things are born with gods, and they are created by God to distinguish between the wise and the foolish, and the differences in nature.

On the second day, Jiang Ye came to the blacksmith shop to pick up the goods.

The peony sword was forged by him as thin as a cicada's wing, about an inch long and more than a finger wide, small and exquisite. Although the whole body is covered with dark night iron, it is smaller than before, so what does this make him do?

Jiang Ye checked it in his hand, although it was a little smaller, but the weight of the sword did not change. The blade of the sword roars through the air, and it can be blown and broken.

Jiang Ye paid the spirit stone and left after thanking him.

Jiang Ye bought a map of Zhongzhou, crossed the border with North Korea, and went straight to the middle of the mainland.

The five sects of the world, the Array Sect of the Northern Xuanzhou, the Star Sword Sect of the Tiannan Continent, the twenty-fourth floor of the West Wind Pavilion Continent, the Bright Moon Pavilion of the Dongsheng Divine Continent, and the Spear Venerable Gate of the Central Continent.

In the past hundred years, the Gun Zun Sect has occupied the position of "the first sect in the world" in the Qingyun Continent, and because of one person, the first in the hundred soldiers is always the gun. The man's name was Jiang Li, and he was a woman.

Zhongzhou is the most prosperous place in the world, it is surrounded by four continents, and it is guarded by the most powerful sect in the world, protecting this place from the disturbance of monks from the outside world, which seems to be the case in the eyes of the outside world.

In fact, there is an undercurrent surging in Middle-earth, killing people, intercepting goods, fighting, and disputes. The Gun Zun Gate is just a gimmick, it does not allow a dynasty to exist under the sect, threatens its position, and allows the people to ignore it.

Sect Master Jiang Li is immersed in martial arts and ignores the affairs of the sect, and the Gun Zun Sect does not care much about the lives of mortals, but due to the suppression of the rest of the sects, those dark deeds are not superficial.

Although Jiang Ye went down the mountain, he also adhered to the principle that monks do not disturb the world and do not participate in mortal disputes. However, the Star Sword Sect still generally supported the Yang Dynasty, so that the mortal rites would not collapse and there would be countless floating houses.

At this time, it is past the cold winter, the spring is warm and the snow is melting, and the breeze is light.

A stream, a stream full of stones to be exact.

It's an extremely remote place, so remote that there is only one tavern.

The tavern was just a dilapidated wooden hut, made of pine wood, which had been corrupted by time and made it look like a sick man dying of old age.

Even though it's spring, it's still a little cold when the wind blows, so I think many people will warm up with a bowl of wine or go in and sit down.

In front of the tavern there is a flag leaning against the door, with the word "wine" written on it.

He hadn't even stepped inside the door when he heard hearty laughter coming from inside the room.

Jiang Ye stepped into the house with a sword, and those people all stopped laughing, put down their wine bowls, and looked at him one after another.

There were only a few wooden tables, a dozen benches, and a dozen people.

There was a dead silence in the room, and the silence tormented Jiang Ye's heart, as if he was going to put him to death.

He came to the counter and asked, "What's the wine?"

The shopkeeper was a short man with a beard and a shabby robe. He looked at Jiang Ye, twisted his beard with his hand, and sneered in a mouse-like voice: "We only have one kind of wine here, which is the "Thousand Needles" brewed with poisonous snakes.

Wine is just like its name, drinking it is like a thousand needles piercing your stomach, making you miserable, but it can also make you forget the wounds and painful thoughts on your body.

Jiang Ye said lightly: "Come to an altar."

The shopkeeper looked at him with a sly gaze, and saw that the young man was carrying a three-foot sword with a black fish skin sheath and gilded swallowing, and said leisurely: "Our wine can cost five taels of silver for one jar."

Jiang Ye took out a small ingot and slapped it on the table: "Come to two altars!"

After a while, the wine had already come up, Jiang Ye poured it in the bowl, looking at the impurities floating in the wine, and never took a bite.

A man who had passed the age of standing, one-eyed, coarse cloth clothes carrying a knife, and a shirtless man walked up to Jiang Ye, pointed at Jiang Ye with the tip of his knife and said, "Boy, you didn't bring any money with you, you paid for your father."

Jiang Ye nodded, looked out the door and said, "Yes."

Then the whole room burst into laughter, and the room was filled with a cheerful atmosphere, which seemed to laugh at the cowardly boy.

The laughter faded, and Jiang Ye slowly spoke: "But if you want me to pay, you also have to pay something."

The man asked, "What is it?"

"Your life."

The laughter in the room stopped abruptly, and everyone's eyes were focused on the two of them.

"Yes." The man spoke slowly, and then introduced the knife in his hand in a show-off manner, "But you have to ask about this tiger and leopard knife first, it has been stained with the blood of twenty-nine people. Eleven of them were swordsmen, and one of them was as young as you, and I had my head cut off with a single sword. As long as you dare to swing your sword at me, then you are the thirtieth. ”

His face was solemn, as if he was not lying, but rather told his story rather blandly. His deep pupils stared at Jiang Ye, as if to tell him: as long as he dared to draw the sword, only death awaited him.

Jiang Ye got up and said lightly, "Okay."

Before he could finish speaking, he drew the sword on the table and stabbed him in the throat like a flying rainbow.

Blood dripped.

The man's throat had been pierced, and he stared at his knife before he died, the knife that had already been pierced by Jiang Ye, just like his throat.

Jiang Ye pulled out his sword, and the sword momentum drove the blood marks through the air in an arc.

He shook the sword with his right hand, shook the blood stained on the sword with his spiritual power, and then put the sword back into its sheath, still sitting down to drink.

No one saw how his sword was unsheathed, and no one dared to trouble him.

Everyone still sat down to drink, as if they were used to this matter, but their mouths were silent, and there was more jealousy and fear in their eyes for this young man.

When Jiang Ye left, the man's body was still lying in the tavern, particularly abrupt in the sunlight.

This is Middle-earth, death is a common thing, as long as your strength is strong, you can be happy and revenge, and you can be at ease.

Jiang Ye looked back at his dead expression, and sighed, "It's a pity that you are the thirty-first person I killed."