Lord Nancheng Meng's face was pale, and he trembled and pointed to Chao Xiaoshu standing outside the pavilion, shouting like a mad woman. "Chao Xiaoshu... Chao Xiaoshu! You, Chao Xiaoshu, how can it be... Cultivators? You... You can't be a great sword master!

...

...

"What kind of people do you need around you?"

"Quick, strong, brave, kill with your eyes open, and never let anything fall on me."

Staring at Chao Xiaoshu's back, Ning Que couldn't help but be a little stiff when he saw the two slightly trembling hands dangling outside the sleeves of his indigo robe. The rapier turned into a silent and gray shadow, finally proving his guess and finally understanding the conversation in the store before.

In the battle on the North Mountain Road, the Great Sword Saint who was expelled from the academy had a martial artist by his side as a guard servant. After Lu Qingchen used a conspiracy to lure and kill the great sword master, he immediately killed the guard servant. It is precisely because cultivators like the Sword Saint and the Soul Master are most afraid of being approached by the killer in battle, just like the Spring Breeze Pavilion Lao Chao who has just finally shown his true strength.

At this moment, Chao Xiaoshu's spiritual power and vitality were completely tied to the vague and unpredictable flying sword. Although he looks powerful, he has lost all his defenses and has no sword in his hand. If someone on the other side can break through the flying sword, or sneak up on him, he will be in great danger.

In the fierce battles of previous years, Chao Xiaoshu had those rumored fierce brothers around him as guards. But tonight, his brothers were held in the camp by government officials. So he needs to find someone, someone he can trust, someone strong enough to protect him at close range.

So, he took advantage of the spring rain to come to Lin 47th Street, walked into the calligraphy shop called the old brush shop, and stood on the wet ground outside the threshold, looking at the young man who was groaning and sighing and eating noodles. Then he smiled and said,

"I'm going to kill.

"I need a man by my side."

Chao Xiaoshu only knew what Ning Que had done in the past, but he didn't know what kind of person he was. There is no doubt that entrusting one's safety and even one's life to Ning Que at will is a gamble.

That gamble, perhaps trust, made Ning Que feel some pressure on his shoulders. He took a deep breath, his right hand gripped the hilt of the sword on his back, facing the sky, and slowly pulled out the glittering, unscratched pod.

...

...

The rain quickly turned red with the dust that had accumulated on the ground, and gradually turned into a small stream that flowed into the drainage ditch of the street's sidewalk, and then quickly gushed out the dirty dirt around it. This is exactly the favorite environment of Chang'an's rats. A rat with ulcers on its fur grabbed a severed human finger with its two dirty black paws and excitedly continued to nibble, taking occasional breaks to lick the blood off its fur. The rat has nothing to do with the people who were slaughtered, everyone is on its horizon. It only hoped that the blurred shadow would chop off more fingers, that the rain would wash those fingers in front of it. "May God bless Hao, my whole family depends on your gift these days."

With a sound of clapping hands, a lump whizzed past and fell in front of the mouse, splattering filthy water and blood on the ground. "Did Lord Hao think I was too greedy and stoned me to death?" The startled rat hurried away, and when it returned to the rat hole under the courtyard wall, it turned around a little reluctantly, glanced at a finger that had been almost gnawed to the bone, but firmly decided to flick its tail and ran in. But if it looks back and sees that the lump splashed with dirty water and blood is a human head, it will definitely regret its decision.

The rat came out of the rat hole, and it had no chance to regret it. The moment that solid pair of Tang military boots trampled it to pieces, perhaps it was regret that he did not tell his companions how wonderful the taste of human flesh was.

One of the soldiers in the elite Tang Dynasty slowly withdrew his foot in his military boots, glancing at the flesh of the rat at his feet. Hearing the sound outside the courtyard wall, he slowly returned to the formation and used gestures to describe the battle situation outside to a colleague. He then bowed and glanced at the crossbow bolt in his hand to verify that the rain was not causing problems for the machine's springs.

Dozens of elite soldiers of the Tang Army in dark raincoats stood silently behind the courtyard wall, holding crossbow arrows in their hands. Outside the dilapidated Spring Breeze Pavilion walls, the sound of killing was everywhere, shaking the sky. But no one noticed them, for the officers remained silent like a flock of stone sculptures, without the slightest change in facial expression, rain or rain, or fierce battle.

Behind these elite Tang Dynasty troops, two men were sitting in a house with layers of rainwater on a wooden floor. One was a middle-aged man with bright eyebrows and eyes, draped in a white robe, and beside him was an unharmed, somewhat small sword placed on the wooden floor. The other man wore a bamboo rain hat to cover his face, but from the monk's robe he wore, his wide, dirty bare feet, and the copper bowl in front of him, under the eaves, he must have been a sadhu.

The robed swordsman frowned slightly, looked at the rain in front of him like a silk curtain, and said softly: "It must be the Sword Saint, no wonder the two of us are needed."

Sadu lowered his head without saying a word, and faintly heard the sound of flying swords cutting through the air and splitting the rain from outside the wall. He stared at the copper bowl under the wooden staircase, watching the rain inside being disturbed by the new raindrops, and gradually felt his qi become a little uneasy. So he lowered his head again, but more slowly and firmly, kneading the ironwood rosary on his wrist with his fingers.

This manor is the court and belongs to the old tide of the Spring Breeze Pavilion. This open wooden building is the rain appreciation building for listening to the rain, Lao Zhao occasionally comes here to pretend to be a scholar, and listens to the rain when he is idle. This elite army of the Tang Dynasty and two strong men are waiting for him to return here.

Outside the courtyard wall on the other side of the court, two carriages stopped at the mouth of the alley where the spring rain kept crackling. In front of the carriage, an energetic horse was disturbed by the spring rain, and sometimes it wanted to blow its nose but could not make a sound, or it wanted to kick its hooves forward but did not dare to move. There was a deep silence in one carriage, while a muffled cough rang from inside the other.

No one knew who was in the two carriages. But if Chao Xiaoshu could see the middle-aged fat man standing next to the carriage now, he would definitely be able to guess that the people in the carriage were not ordinary people. The middle-aged fat man looked like a commoner and was not well-known in Chang'an. He did not have any official rank identification. However, many government officials will curry favor with him when they see him, because they all know that he always deals with things that are inconvenient for the prince.

But even though this figure, who was even more powerful than Prime Minister Chamberlain, was drenched by the cold spring rain, he still did not dare to go in, and sat in the carriage to avoid the rain, but stood beside the carriage with his back slightly bent, showing an extraordinarily humble attitude.

It was a cold and rainy night, and the alleys outside the Spring Breeze Pavilion and the Chaofu were out.

The middle-aged fat man stood beside the carriage, bent over in the rain, and said in a low voice, "Chao Xiaoshu is indeed a cultivator, and he seems to be in good shape. Now it's getting a little tricky......"

The people in the carriage coughed twice and said indifferently: "Don't worry. Are they two people hired by the Department of Taxation in the mansion? Even if those two people can't stop that guy in the world of rivers and lakes, it's never too late for us to do it...... As for those people in the world of rivers and lakes, we don't need to care about their deaths. Even in the dark gutters of Chang'an, some rats are dying every day.

Hundreds of warriors from the world of Chang'an rivers and lakes poured over from all directions. Although they are regarded by transcendent experts as rats in the dark gutter, at that life-and-death juncture, they erupt with extremely amazing combat power and blood.

But Chunfeng Pavilion Lao Zhao is a cultivator, they are just ordinary people in the Jianghu world. The difference in combat effectiveness between the two sides is like that of an eagle and an ant. The sword shadow pierced a leg with blood, then circled around the neck, severing a large head and cutting off the fingers of a man with an axe in his hand, causing the axe-wielding man to fall in the rain. Before the sword shadow appeared and disappeared alternately, the strongest combat power was not worth even a move, and the bloody aura of those warriors would always collapse hopelessly when their companions kept falling.

Chao Xiaoshu stepped forward calmly, his indigo robe had already been soaked by the rain. But just like Ning Que every time he saw him, no one would have thought that the number one person in Chang'an this night would have a hard time. He walks in the rain, naturally like spring rain, and the breath emanating from his body is like spring rain moistening the earth, making people have no way out or no desire to resist.