The two of them were relatively speechless in Yichi, and there was no sad and sad look on such a sword cultivator's face, on the contrary, after hearing such a sentence, he gradually calmed down.

Just like Fang knows life, just like Fang knows death.

Bushblade walked towards the bridge of the stream, sat down there as usual, raised his hand to brush some of the snow from the guardrail, and then whispered, "It seems that you have some problems that are very painful for you. ”

Cheng Lu looked at the white-clothed sword cultivator sitting on the river bridge from a distance, and said softly, "Yes, Uncle Shi." ”

Cong Jian smiled slightly, raised his hand and caught a piece of peach blossoms, as if looking at a bright and gorgeous fate, looking at it for a long time.

"Then such a question should be related to Chen Yunxi."

It's probably not something hard to guess.

If someone like Cheng Lu doesn't know what means were used, he must go back to the year 102 and ask Cong Blade, one of the three swords that has died in the future.

Nature only exists equally.

Cheng Lu lowered his head slightly, and this sword cultivator, who was rarely confused, looked at the green peach blossoms on the white stone path.

"Yes."

Cong Jian quietly looked at the peach blossom in his hand for a long time, then threw it into the water, and said softly, "Do you know who your master is?"

Cheng Lu raised his head and looked at Cong Jian for a long time, not knowing why he asked such a question.

Who is Chen Yunxi?

The world probably doesn't know much about it.

But even for Cheng Lu, the white-haired and green-clothed sword cultivator who had been hidden in the clouds for a long time was also mysterious.

Cheng Lu thought about it for a long time, not knowing how to answer such a question.

It was silent for a long time in a pool, the peach blossoms were falling, the fine snow was silent, Cong Blade's breathing and heartbeat were very calm, and Cheng Lu was in a hurry.

After a long time, Cong Jian smiled softly and said: "Chen Yunxi was a sword cultivator in the Tsing Yi era back then, and my master, or to be precise, he is the same generation as my master Xieqiao. ”

Although Chen Yunxi is the person who is known as the Three Swords with Cong Zhongxiao, he is a sword cultivator of the same generation as Xieqiao.

When such a sword cultivator did not deceive the world, Cong Zhongxiao was still a fifteen-year-old boy.

From a certain point of view, Chen Yunxi is actually a person from the ancestors of the Cong Blade Master, that is, Cheng Lu, who is a member of the Cong Blade Master's uncle.

The interweaving of thousands of years and a hundred years has created such a strange generation.

Cheng Lu just quietly looked at the sword cultivator who was sitting on the river bridge and talking a lot of things.

Cong Jian looked at Cheng Lu and smiled, and continued: "I have never seen such a sword cultivator, and you Cheng Lu is the one who has seen it, try to think about it, do you know more about that kind of sword cultivator, or you?" ”

Cheng Lu was silent for a long time, and then said softly: "Maybe it's me." ”

Cong Blade sat there quietly, not saying any more.

Cheng Lu suddenly raised his head, looked up at the snow one night outside a pool, and then laughed self-deprecatingly, and said, "So Cheng Lu came here in vain?" ”

Cong Jian looked at Cheng Lu quietly and said softly, "What made you think of coming here to ask me?" ”

Cheng Lu sighed for a long time and said slowly: "Zhang Xiaoyu..... A diary of Zhang Xiaoyu. ”

Cong Blade raised an eyebrow.

"This kid still keeps a diary? Is this what a serious person does? ”

Serious people may not keep a diary.

Cong Jian felt as if he had indeed slept a little too much, and he didn't even know when his disciple started writing a diary.

It's just that the question at hand is obviously not whether Zhang Xiaoyu writes a diary or not, but what is written in the diary.

"What did he write?"

"On December 9, 1002, Uncle Shi seemed to have found something and was looking at the sky..... Stupid. ”

When Cheng Lu said this, he was suddenly stunned, looked up at the sword cultivator on the river bridge, and then looked down at the black-clothed sword cultivator who had been standing in the pond on the side for a long time.

So what did Plex Blade find?

Cheng Lu seemed to finally understand at this moment.

The sword of the young Hulu and the sword of Cheng Lu cannot cut through the years.

But the bush blade can.

So what did Cong Blade see?

A disciple who shouldn't have been fifteen years old himself, and this sword cultivator of the Liuyun Sword Sect who shouldn't have appeared here.

And so the problem became the problem.

The answer is buried in the answer.

Cheng Lu stood there in a daze, looking at the fine snow that slowly fell in a pool because of his arrival.

"It turns out .... That's it? ”

So the butterfly that I picked up in the years that had died and dried up was put there by myself.

Cheng Lu suddenly felt that the snow on her shoulders that was slowly melting away was very heavy.

So it became natural for me to feel a little stuffy in my chest.

This sword cultivator from the Liuyun Sword Sect and from the Great Wind Calendar for one thousand and four years slowly bent down, holding the sword of the young Hu Lu there, breathing heavily.

When some young men under the umbrella and some white-clothed and bloody sword cultivators realized the heaviness of the word fate, Cheng Lu, who was originally under the stage, also experienced such a majestic, irreversible and irreversible torrent.

Cong Jian just sat there quietly and looked at Cheng Lu.

After a long time, the black-clothed and short-haired sword cultivator raised his head with a bitter expression, and saluted with his sword towards Cong Blade.

"Thank you, uncle, Cheng Lu interrupted."

Cheng Lu sighed for a long time and walked towards the outside of a pool.

The sword cultivator on the river bridge just laughed softly, as if it was something in the past, and also like something that this sword cultivator did in some story in the future.

He always likes to say something at the end.

"But the answer you want, you may not be able to have it."

Cheng Lu turned his head in a daze, looked at the sword cultivator who was sitting there, and said softly, "So Uncle Shi actually does know some things?" ”

Cong Blade laughed softly and said, "Of course I don't know, but Nanyi City, which has been in the Great Wind for a thousand and two years, may indeed be able to give you such an answer." ”

Cheng Lu stood there for a long time, looking at the white-clothed sword cultivator on the river bridge, his lips moved slightly, and he slowly said a name.

"White wind and rain."

The former generation of the Qingtian Dao.

The white wind and rain that stirred the wind and rain of a hundred years ago in the world.

Cong Jian didn't ask Cheng Lu what kind of story there was in the world next year or the year after.

It's just that in today's world, in the final analysis, if there will be chaos.

White wind and rain is naturally a name that cannot be bypassed.

Cheng Lu listened to such a long-ago but familiar name, and there seemed to be a lot of hope in her eyes.

Yes, white rain.

Although Cong Blade may not know the story of one year, three years, one thousand and four years.

But Cheng Lu is clear.

Such an old Taoist who has lived to the shackles of the Great Dao to the world has died at the beginning of all stories.

So Cheng Lu has never thought of such a person.

Bai Fengyu died in Nanyi City.

The first stories are untold.

But many people have already guessed who such a previous generation of Qingtian Daoist Temple Lord died in.

View of mountains and rivers, Li Shi.

Or, in other words, to die from some sword intent from the years of the Cong Blade.

Cheng Lu took the sword and saluted.

"Please also ask Uncle Shi to tell the old master where he is."

Although Cheng Lu had heard of Bai Fengyu's death in Nanyi City in the rumors of the world, why such a Daomen overhaul appeared in Nanyi City, and where it existed in Nanyi City, was something that few people knew.

Even among the Sword Sect in the world, only Chen Huaifeng, who had experienced Bai Fengyu breaking into the Sword Sect, knew.

Cong Blade said softly, "Why rush for a while? ”

Cheng Lu frowned, not knowing what Cong Blade meant.

The sword cultivator who was sitting on the river bridge sighed very much, and said with some guilt: "Bai Fengyu is now ninety-nine years old. In a hundred years, there are not many years left, so why rush in such a snowy night to disturb the dying dreams of such an old man? ”

Cheng Lu fell silent.

Yes.

People in the world often say that they do not deceive the young of the world.

But before that phrase, there is an even older saying.

It's called the old man, and the old man.

This sword cultivator from the Liuyun Sword Sect stood by the pool and said softly, "Then I'll go again tomorrow." ”

Cong Jian smiled slightly: "That's a good word. ”

This is not like such a sword cultivation style.

......

At the end of April 1004.

Cong Xin woke up from some quietly falling peach blossom rain.

The little girl sat on the river bridge for a long time, then stood up, holding the cleanly washed rag doll that Jiang Hehai had picked up, and stepped on a peach blossom in small steps, and walked towards a pond.

It wasn't until he stopped at the swing under the treehouse that Cong Xin stopped.

Decayed things are naturally easy to break.

It's just that the rope that has been replaced by the Cong Blade is probably still very young, so it is still intact and tenacious tied there, and the knot of such a lazy sword repair is also very strong, and there is no sense of relaxation at all.

Cong Xin stood there quietly, standing in the silent Sword Sect garden, looking at the knot for a long time.

She remembered a certain peach blossom snow.

A white-clothed sword cultivator who repaired a swing for himself, and a black-clothed sword cultivator who came for some reason.

In the stories of the world, naturally not everyone has a mind that knows everything.

For example, Cong Xin, even if such a sword cultivator went to the goddess under his own guidance, and went back to the past years.

But it wasn't until today that Cong Xin realized many things.

If only I could have slept more awakely at that time.

Is it possible to guess the fate of many in the future?

Cong Xin thought about it in hindsight, and the little girl's clean and bright eyes gradually moistened.

It's like a fog on the edge of a big lake early in the morning.

But Cong Xin didn't cry in the end, just raised his hand, rubbed his eye sockets with his sleeve, and then sat on the swing with the rag doll, put the rag doll on his knees, clenched the swing vine with both hands, and looked up at the April sky getting higher and lower.

......

The clouds on that day were all expected, so the steps were light.

......

The wind is blowing and the white clouds are drifting, where have you gone?

Oh look up and smile when I miss you.

I don't know.

......

Hu Lu slept soundly.

Such a teenager has never slept so comfortably since he woke up from that big dream.

When I woke up, it was already dark, but the snow had not stopped, and the color of the winter snow was very quiet through the slightly open window, and the stove had been extinguished.

Hu Lu lay on the bed, tilted his head and quietly looked at the snow outside the window for a long time, and then got up silently, stood by the window in his underwear, and pushed the window out a lot.

Even though the snow was foggy, the young man was still a little stabbed by the light in the snow for a while, and his eyes narrowed.

There was some sound of playing cards in the Sword Sect, perhaps because it was in the wind and snow, and it sounded very distant.

But Hulu felt very reassured.

Outside the window are small buildings that stretch to the end of some snow paths as disciples' residences.

The brothers may not be among them, but they must be at the table.

After all, Nanyi City is a wise saying - don't play cards in winter, hit your mother?

Hu Lu looked at it for a long time before he pushed open the door and called out to his senior brother.

It's a pity that there is no lazy voice from a white-clothed sword cultivator.

Hu Lu hesitated for a moment, tiptoed up the stairs, climbed up the second floor, and looked around.

The second floor is still the same as yesterday, except that there are still some sparks in the stove placed by the door, which is emitting a slight heat.

As for Zhang Xiaoyu, he was not upstairs.

Hu Lu's impression that Zhang Xiaoyu rarely seems to have such an early wake-up time.

Of course, because of the heavy snowfall for several days, it is not clear whether it is still early.

The boy went back up to the second floor, past the bed, to the door, and looked out again.

There was no figure of the sword cultivator looking at the snow on the wind corridor outside.

Hu Lu sat down there, moved the stove a little more, and looked at the Sword Sect Garden in the snow in silence.

Wind and snow are naturally cold.

It's just that it also has an inexplicably sweet taste.

Hu Lu didn't know why he felt this way.

Maybe it's because the snow particles that fall on the porch are like some white sugar sprinkled on the sugar and oil poop.

Hu Lu sat for a while, and then continued to rummage on the second floor.

There seemed to be a lot of hidden meaning in Zhang Xiaoyu's words yesterday, which made Hu Lu more and more strange the more he thought about it.

It's just that today, as yesterday, there is still nothing to be found.

The boy was busy for a while, and finally returned to the wind corridor, tilting his head and frowning at the heavy snow.

There was a sword correction in the snow slowly approaching.

It's not Zhang Xiaoyu, it's Huaimin.

Huaimin glanced at the hulu upstairs in the wind and snow path, and then silently turned around and walked towards the snow forest near Michi.

Hu Lu hesitated for a moment, ran downstairs, took the umbrella, stretched it out, and walked out in the snow.

Huaimin waited there quietly.

Hu Lu suddenly had an inexplicable feeling that he was going undercover.

It's just that there probably wasn't three years of resentment after three years.

The two were relatively silent in the snow.

"Did you find anything?"

Huaimin looked at Hu Lu and said softly.

Hu Lu shook his head and said slowly: "No, maybe Senior Brother Xiaoyu does have nothing, or perhaps, he hid it too well." ”

That kind of sword cultivator who lived a thousand and three years ago seemed to be really just an ordinary disciple of the Human Sword Sect who liked to play scoundrels.

They are two very different people from the fish called Zhang Xiaoyu in the future.

It's just that the fenox is clear.

Such a white-clothed sword cultivator just hid everything.

But the problem is that Hu Lu doesn't know what Zhang Xiaoyu is hiding.

It's like looking at the snow, it's like standing in the snow.

Everything is white, like an unknown fate heading in all directions.

Huaimin stood there for a long time, looking at the snow in December in the world, lowered his head, and said softly: "What story did he bring to the Sword Sect or the human world later?" ”

Hulu was silent for a long time, and then whispered, "A snow." ”

A white chill and a biting snowstorm.

It's like a snowstorm under a teenager's umbrella.

Huaimin stood there for a long time, not saying anything.

It's just a snowfall.

......

Zhang Xiaoyu was swinging his sword towards a pool.

Such a boy named Hulu is indeed too similar to Hulu.

This had to give him some quirky thoughts.

So he was going to run over to a pool and ask Cong Blade.

Cong Blade rarely didn't sleep—just like the diary Zhang Xiaoyu wrote.

The sword cultivator, who had always been lazy, sat quietly on the stream bridge, looking at the sky with his cheeks raised.

Zhang Xiaoyu leaned over a little strangely, sat down under the peach tree, looked at it for a long time, and then asked suspiciously, "Master, what are you doing?" ”

Cong Jian lowered his eyes slightly, looked at Zhang Xiaoyu quietly for a long time, and then said lazily: "It has nothing to do with you, stay where it is cool." ”

Zhang Xiaoyu looked at the snow outside a pool melancholy.

In winter, of course, it's cool everywhere, and Cong Jian is not wrong.

There is no snow in a pool, and it is indeed the least cool place.

Zhang Xiaoyu originally wanted to ask about Hu Lu, to see if Hu Lu had a distant relative named Hu Gu, but he just looked at Cong Blade's lazy appearance, but he didn't continue to ask.

After all, it's a well-known fact that Cong Blade is lazy.

Lazy and sick, although the latter is something that cannot be seen in the current world, but the prime minister still spares no effort to slander such a sword cultivator.

Cong Jian was naturally thinking about Cheng Lu.

Or the matter of the ancient sword cultivation called Chen Yunxi.

Such a sword cultivation is naturally familiar to the world, but it is extremely unfamiliar.

So what does Cheng Lu want to know?

Although Cong Blade was very curious, he didn't ask.

Speculation is, of course, an interesting thing.

It's just that Cong Blade's guess was interrupted by this disciple who suddenly arrived.

Therefore, although the white-clothed sword cultivator on the river bridge said that he would stay where it was cool, he also put his thoughts on this disciple.

As everyone knows.

Zhang Xiaoyu is not a happy person.

Just pretending to be happy.

Blade remembered something from a long time ago.

At that time, I asked this disciple from the view of mountains and rivers.

"Do you hate mountains and rivers?"

The smile on the young Jian Xiu's face disappeared, and then he said softly, "Yes." ”

"Then you go and kill someone later."

......

When Cong Blade came back to his senses, the young disciple had already walked far away with his sword, still waving his sword indiscriminately, as if money would be cut out in the snowstorm.

Jian Xiu on the bridge looked at the back of the disciple who was the same as heaven and earth for a long time, and didn't say anything.