The white-clothed scholar stood silently on the bank of the stream, which used to be very clear, and at this time, there should be trees with leaves gradually turning bright yellow, and there would probably be sword cultivators with white hair on sideburns, drinking wine while talking to the sword cultivators who came and went to tell stories to the world.

It used to be like this.

There used to be crying and laughing here.

But now it's all silent.

More than just silence, maybe something else.

For example, some small graves that have been turned out of the earth have not completely faded, like abscesses growing in some green hills.

There is a broken sword on the tomb, and a wooden board is inserted in front of the tomb, which is used as a tombstone, and it reads - Lingnan Listening to the Wind Sword School, the tomb of the sword three hundred and seventy-three.

Qing Xiang didn't know such a so-called sword three hundred and seventy-three, and this was not the real name of the sword cultivator buried below.

It's just that for a certain little sword cultivator who came back from the East China Sea, there is no information that can indicate his identity on the rotten and corrupt bones of such a sword cultivator who turned out of the green mountains.

Lingnan's sword has never had a name.

The sword of Lingnan has always had only the name Lingnan.

If Chen Huaifeng died, and later generations found his bones and picked up his sword, from the places where the name may have been worn off those swords, it can still be seen that there was once written wolfberry and senior brother, so they understood that this was Chen Huaifeng.

But Lingnan's will not.

The world will only find a sword with weak sword intent, a broken body, and nothing.

No one recorded the names of the sword cultivators who participated in the battle one by one like Zhou Shan, the heavenly prison official of Yunjue Town, so that they could know who died and where they were buried.

So the little boy could only carefully identify the blood-colored and withered clothes in the order in which he found them, and give them such a cold name.

The prime minister stood there in silence, looking at the name for a long time.

Guessing if he was the sect master of the Wind Listening Sword Sect Listening to the Wind Listening to the Wind Groan.

It's a pity that such a thing is difficult to guess for a lifetime.

The scholar sighed wistfully, picked up the flask at his waist, took a sip of wine, and then continued along the riverside.

Along the way, the green hills are full of graves.

There was a sound of digging in the distance.

The prime minister stopped by the grave under a certain tree, and here was the tomb of the Eighty-six of the Amazing Sword Sect.

There are also some in the distance, such as the Little Nine Peak Sword Sect, the Tomb of Sword Four Hundred and Sixty-Seven.

And by the stream in the distance, there was a little boy with a gray face, who was holding his Xiwu sword, kneeling on the ground and digging some wet soil on the side of the stream.

This is probably the only Lingnan sword cultivator that Qing Xiang has recognized along the way.

At the beginning, on the bank of the Nanyi River, this little boy was beaten by his uncle with a peach branch because he made a mistake, so his hands were wrapped like a zongzi, but he still held the sword, and stood up from behind the Lingnan Sword Cultivator, saying that Lu Xiaoer of the Lingnan Little White Sword Sect.

Such a young boy is probably really hard to forget.

His cultivation talent may not be outstanding in the world, but his extremely delicate eyebrows and eyes are indeed difficult for anyone who has seen them to ignore.

So the prime minister who came on a flying immortal also remembered this little boy.

There are still some highly decomposed corpses of sword cultivators beside the little boy, and after some time, they will become nothing and bones, but the clothes on their bodies are still there.

Sometimes things that have life, after being abandoned, disappear much faster than things that don't.

Qing Xiang stood there quietly, looking at the little boy.

There were no graves any further, only the green mountains, which had fallen silent in the blood, were no longer even noticeable, and had become a black stain that was silent in the sword marks.

The grave had been dug up, so the young man silently lowered his sword, and looked at the empty tomb, like a larger and deeper turnip pit, and there was no sigh.

Only the wind blows the leaves all over the mountain, the stream gurgles over the rocks, and the dull breathing of the young man.

The corpse was dragged over by the little boy, put it into the mud pit, and filled in the dug out soil little by little, inserted a broken sword into it, and finally took out a sharpened wooden board, stuck it on it, and carved it seriously with the sword--Shocking Sword Sect, one hundred and seventy-six swords.

The little boy's engraved look is very serious, and the face that was originally eaten in Shanyue City is now edged and cornered, and when viewed from the side, it is very prominent, just like the sword grid of a sword, which shows the meaning of emaciation.

The wind blows all over the mountain, blowing over the leaves that are gradually withering in autumn.

The little boy carved the wooden tablet, and finally stood up with his sword, rested for a while, and then looked around, and when he saw the prime minister standing there holding a wine jug, Lu Xiaoer fell silent.

As if he hadn't seen the scholar, the little boy looked away very calmly.

Continue to search for some of the places in the mountains where the broken sword is inserted.

Although Lingnan is the cultivation of sword intent, it was only in the original battle that such a sword sect bore the brunt of the collision with those rebels, Huangliang Witch Armor and Witch Ghost Dao people.

This is Huai'an's first line of defense.

It is also the most tragic line of defense.

In the face of the menacing army, Lingnan never retreated until his death, until the sword intent was exhausted, he held the sword in his hand, like a human being, in the close fight, he was drowned in the torrent of the army.

Where there is a broken sword, there will naturally be a corpse of Lingnan Sword Cultivator.

The young man looked away a little, and saw again a broken sword stuck diagonally on the bank of the stream.

He didn't say anything, just leaned on his sword and walked slowly towards that side with tired steps.

Lu Xiaoer stopped in front of the broken sword, raised his hand and picked up the saprophytic plants that had grown very luxuriantly, and below it was a corpse that had turned into white bones, the dwarf plant called the water hosta, which grew out of those clothes, very luxuriant.

Revert to one 's origin.

Jian Xiu died in his homeland.

Of course, everything will be turned into nourishment for this world, as if it was all over again.

Lu Xiaoer silently pulled out the plants from the corpse, the head of the corpse was not here, the little boy looked for it for a while, there was nothing nearby, probably flying far away.

The little boy didn't look for it either.

He has a lot of tombstones to erect, and there are some things that he probably doesn't have time to do.

Lu Xiaoer moved the corpse and the sword together, and squatted there with the sword, carefully identifying the clothes that had not yet completely decayed.

This is a sword cultivator of the Qin Yun Sword Sect.

People outside Lingnan probably wouldn't know about the existence of such a sword sect, after all, the Lingnan Sword Sect is an aggregate of many sword sects.

It's about the same existence as the Little White Sword Sect.

This may be one of the few combat powers this Sword Sect has left.

After Lu Xiaoer recognized the origin of this sword cultivator, he breathed a sigh of relief.

In fact, he had always been very afraid, afraid that he would not be able to recognize the identity of such a sword cultivator, and in the end he could only write a general Lingnan Sword Sect.

I'm also afraid that from such a sword cultivator's clothes, I will see something familiar.

Lingnan Qinyun Sword Sect, the tomb of Jianyi.

Lu Xiaoer whispered such a name, then knelt down, thrust the Xiwu Sword into the mountain, and began to dig the grave little by little.

The grave of the boy will not be dug too deep, nor will it be dug too wide.

As long as it can be a tomb, it can hide a corpse that has been blown by the wind and rain for months.

But even if it were just that, the boy wouldn't dig many graves in a day.

There is not only mud in the mountains, but also stones.

Although the young man is a sword cultivator, with some sword intent on the sword, it is sharp enough, but after all, it is a human being and not a machine.

Lu Xiaoer's hands were full of sword wounds, often because he suddenly stuck in the stone, and the long sword came out of his hand, so he cut himself, or he was exhausted, but he still wanted to finish digging the grave in front of him, so his hand slipped down.

This is the first number of graves today, Lu Xiaoer actually can't remember, but in the whole of June, he has dug nearly a thousand graves.

Fortunately, he is a cultivator after all.

If he were only a human being, this would be impossible in any case.

After Lu Xiaoer finished digging the small tomb in front of him, he did not put the corpse in it as before, but walked to the stream and immersed his hands and feet in the stream with the Xiwu sword.

The cold water of the stream can indeed make people feel refreshed and can also take away a lot of fatigue.

It's just that the physical exertion is inevitable.

Lu Xiaoer sat there, panting slowly, and the soil on the Xiwu Sword was gradually carried away by the stream, like a silver fish. Even after so many graves had been dug, the sword was still intact.

The little boy sometimes thanks to such a senior in Tianya Town.

If he hadn't given himself such a sword, he probably wouldn't have been able to dig up so many graves.

For the fact that he used such a sword to dig the soil, Lu Xiaoer did not feel guilty.

As a tool, a sword can be used in practice, and it is a really good sword.

It can be used to play tunes, as Le Chaotian said, or it can be used to dig up the soil.

There's nothing you can't do.

When Lu Xiaoer was resting there, there was a touch of white beside him, and it was like moonlight in a trance, but Lingnan is only dusk now, even if there is really moonlight in the sky, it will not be so bright.

A jug of wine was handed over.

Lu Xiaoer looked at the pot of wine for a long time, and calmly rejected the kindness of such a big demon in the world, and raised his head, the gray-faced little boy's eyes were very calm.

"I don't need wine, but food."

Alcohol makes blood flow faster, which takes away more calories. Naturally, this is not what the little boy wants.

Qing Xiang looked at Lu Xiaoer quietly, and finally put the wine jug back, turned around and walked towards the mountain.

The time for such a human demon to leave is not long.

When he came back again, he carried a deer with a broken head in his hand.

The prime minister sat down by the stream, glanced at the little boy who was in a mess and was very emaciated, lit a fire, took off the jade pendant from his waist, turned it into a sword, cut off the venison, poured it with the wine in the pot, and then roasted it on the fire.

The venison gradually emitted an attractive aroma, the thousand-year-old demon, there will always be some scorching skills, the color is golden, constantly dripping with oil, plus sprinkled with wine, there is a special aroma.

Qing Xiang threw the venison in his hand to the young man by the stream.

Lu Xiaoer was not afraid of being hot, so he picked it up from the stream, brought it to his lips, and nibbled on it in a big gulp.

Qing Xiang sat there and watched quietly, drinking the rest of the wine in the pot.

"I thought you'd look at me viciously with tears in your eyes, and every bite you took felt like you were eating my flesh."

The white-clothed scholar raised his hand to wipe the wine on his lips, looked at Xiao Shao and said in a young voice.

Lu Xiaoer was just eating barbecue with his head down, replenishing his physical strength, and at the same time, he was also exhaling the vitality of heaven and earth, replenishing his divine sea, and containing his sword intent.

"I can't kill you, there's no point in doing that. If I can kill you, there's no point in doing that. ”

In a few months, the little boy seemed to have changed as a person, and he was very sober and calm and said these things.

"I didn't expect you to kill a deer for me to eat, in fact, I'm ready to rest for a while and spearfish myself."

But the thirteen-year-old boy tore at the venison vigorously, which made him look hideous, and as the piece of venison was gnawed off, the little boy's expression calmed down again, and only two cheeks bulged and chewed incessantly.

"But that doesn't make me feel like you're a good person, Dean."

"The wind and blood of Lingnan, those dead sword cultivators, can't be repaid with a piece of venison."

Qing Xiang turned his head, looked at the waning moon hanging in the sky at dusk, and said calmly: "Yes." ”

Lu Xiaoer didn't say anything more, just lowered his head and ate the food carefully and seriously.

In fact, such a piece of venison is undoubtedly extremely huge for the little boy, but Lu Xiaoer ate it all into his stomach little by little, and lowered his head like a little calf, stretching his head out and drinking the stream water.

The deer that Qing Xiang killed was not too big, but even if the little boy really wanted to stuff it into his stomach, it would be impossible to stuff it, and he would only kill himself.

So after Lu Xiaoer drank the stream water, he pressed the Xiwu sword on his knee again, rested for a while, then stood up and walked towards the dug grave again.

It was still the same process as before, putting the bones in, filling in the soil, inserting the sword, and finally writing down the name that I had been talking about for a long time, for fear of forgetting.

Lingnan Qinyun Sword Sect, the tomb of Jianyi.

Qing Xiang sat there and watched quietly.

The little boy didn't say anything, just held his sword and continued to walk forward in the dim sky.

The green hills are gradually entering the night.

Sometimes, after dark, the bones are better to find.

Especially on the edge of such an open stream.

On the slopes of those green hills, when the moonlight is sprinkled, those swords scattered in the mountains will exude a faint and cold glow.

Perhaps it is like a silent tomb.

It's still not enough to be just an imaginary grave.

The four words of "peace in the earth" are often the best destination in the world.

After Lu Xiaoer ate something, he found five more swords, as well as their broken owners.

So they were buried together in this green mountain.

At last the boy rested, washed the dirt on his body by the brook, washed the sword, and finally found a bend in the stream leaning against the rocks, and sat down there.

The sword intent around Lu Xiaoer's body was very sluggish.

It's just that it also has some condensation meaning.

The young boy may have never used sword intent so often, and although it was only used to dig graves, it could be regarded as a way to sharpen his sword.

In such a repeated story of consuming the vitality of heaven and earth for a long time, Lu Xiaoer was out of the customs not long ago.

But this probably won't really be of much use.

The story of the world, the cultivation of the Great Dao has died a lot.

Naturally, it goes without saying that the entry and exit of the customs realm.

Qing Xiang sat by the stream in the distance, drinking wine while looking at the little boy for a long time.

The green mountains are full of broken swords, exuding a faint and clear light in the cold moonlight.

I don't know how long it took, but the little boy suddenly turned his head and looked at the prime minister sitting there, as if he was puzzled and asked a question with hatred.

"What the hell do you think?"

Qing Xiang sat there calmly drinking.

"You're going to ask Your Majesty."

"You can't win against Your Majesty, so you come to bully the Lingnan Sword Sect?"

The little boy who had been calm for a day, finally after burying many sword cultivators, had a very angry tone in his tone.

Prime Minister was silent for a while, and said softly: "I didn't want to bully the Lingnan Sword Sect, it's ......"

The white-clothed scholar raised his head in the night of the green mountains and looked at the remnant sword that exuded a cold glow all over the mountains.

"It's they who don't want to go back. I thought you Lingnan people were stupid. But I didn't think you guys were so stupid. ”

The tone of the prime minister was also a little intense, like a person who had been drinking because of something and finally got drunk, and poured out his troubles with great passion.

"Take a step back, take a step back! They can continue to survive in the world, I never thought that I really had to fight the mountains and moons, I just want Your Majesty to be soft! ”

The white-clothed scholar's tone lowered again, and he raised his head and drank wine.

"But they didn't, and neither did Your Majesty."

The young man may not be able to understand what the prime minister is saying - this may be the reason why the prime minister is willing to say it.

Spit out quickly, of course, to say it to people who can't understand and can't understand each other.

That way, they won't use reason to shake your determination.

"Now, I can't tell who's right and who's wrong."

The prime minister said softly.

"But right or wrong doesn't matter anymore. If you open your bow and get arrows, you can never turn back. ”

Lu Xiaoer really didn't want to understand the confessions of the prime minister.

No matter how right he is, the story of Lingnan will always be bleak.

"Dean."

The little boy pressed the Xiwu sword and sat on the side of the stream, interrupting the white-clothed scholar's words.

"You just can't turn back."

Lu Xiaoer silently looked at the one this afternoon, and he didn't find the grave of the head of the sword cultivator.

"But the people of Lingnan have lost their heads forever."