or in an instant, or in ten thousand years; The passage of time is unknowable.

Hong Fan came back to his senses.

A dark room, his location in the innermost corner.

The five people just now were scattered in the room, dressed in regular clothes, and only their backs could be seen.

The four walls are all wooden.

The feet swayed slightly, probably in the cabin.

No one spoke, probably waiting.

Just a few moments later, there was the sound of light footsteps outside.

It was a woman who came in, dressed in a red dress, holding an oil lamp, and her face was beautiful and moving in the firelight, which Hong Fan had seen before.

The daughter of the leader of the Fubo gang - Ao Zhixian.

"It has been confirmed that the target is at home."

She didn't talk nonsense and tried to explain it as concisely as possible.

"All the clothes and weapons you need are ready."

"I will get off from the north pier of the city, change my clothes and do things after I get to the location, and then go to the south pier of the city."

"This ship will be waiting for you over there, pick up the people and go directly out of the city, to the Shuyin Wharf; Horses are available at the docks, so you can get there and go back......"

The plan is simple and effective.

However, Hong Fan only felt ridiculous.

Until this moment, looking at Ao Zhixian's face, he still couldn't understand why the Fubo Gang wanted to target Zhan Yuanzi.

In some of the previous actions, Tiqi was indeed on the opposite side of the local forces in Xijing.

But everyone knows it's just business.

How stupid is it to take subversive risks to take revenge for these little festivals?

Ridiculous, confused.

But beyond that, there's an irrepressible scorching heat.

Zhan Yuanzi has no personal enmity with the Ao family.

The only entanglement comes from the dispute that started with the Wang Mincai case - and as the actual decision-maker of the second squad, it was Hong Fan's own judgment that led to all this.

The heart began to burn.

Ao Zhixian's words continued.

"In the operation, everything is subject to Uncle Mi Jun's orders."

She said the last sentence and went out to leave.

Among the five, the one named Mi Jun walked to the front and turned to face the four.

He is in his fifties, with thick black hair and a slight frost white on his sideburns.

It was the man who was standing on the roof at the time of the assassination.

"Lady's words, have you heard them?"

"It's the Ti Cavalry that is going to move this time, and you know how dangerous it is, and you can't make any mistakes."

His gaze swept across the throat, giving the illusion of a dagger against his throat.

In the perspective, there are still four people who have not shown their true faces.

The left one is short, the left two are tall and strong, the right two are tall and thin, and the right one is bald.

It's like four forks in the line of cause and effect.

The picture stands still.

With a slight pause, it seemed that Ye Shu was choosing.

Then, the horizon focused on the left—the man who stabbed the last sword.

Time is turned back again.

Winter, day.

The quaint mansion is covered with a thick layer of snow.

There are cypress trees in the yard, not very young, and their branches are higher than the ridge of the roof.

Two middle-aged men, with a few servants, surrounded a short old man and walked under the shade of a white tree at the top and green at the bottom.

"Master, you are so old that you still want to help the fist?"

Said the man dressed as a butler.

"My father's majesty has not diminished back then, so it's just a matter of going."

Another middle-aged man said that his face was seven points similar to the old man.

"The key is that the other party doesn't say the reason, doesn't allow others to accompany him, and can't even bring the golden gun!"

His tone was indignant.

"There's no way, I owe them a favor back then, and I can't help but pay it back."

The short old man said.

A few people chatted with each other, and soon left the gate of the mansion.

The old man ordered everyone to stay.

Along the wide alley, he walked more than a hundred steps, and when he reached the mouth of the alley, he finally couldn't help but look back.

Under the plaque of [Feiming Washington], the family members and housekeepers who saw them off were also looking at it.

In the eye to eye, the world changes.

Green hills bulge on both sides.

In the valley in the center, the martial arts arena is paved with fine sand, and the sword strength is vertical and horizontal.

There were many onlookers, including their own children and outsiders.

The burly middle-aged warrior carried a ring and carried a big knife, stepped in three steps, slashed the left and right wooden pillars with the knife flower, and finally cut off the triple shield.

"It's worthy of the Duan family knife!"

The guests shouted praise.

The warrior stroked his beard and laughed.

At this time, the child on the side walked over quickly and said in his ear.

"Master of the family, a messenger has come from outside, saying that it is your 'old owner'."

The warrior's face turned cold.

He instinctively glanced at the steel knife in his hand.

On the face of the snowy knife, the mountains in the distance are reflected.

Perspective penetrates.

The temperature plummets and the air is crisp and cold.

There is a Taoist temple in the open space on the top of the mountain.

The stone hills on the side are not in the clouds, and higher peaks rise around them.

There was a lot of noise, and all the doors were open.

A fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy knelt down in the center of the main hall and kowtowed to the tall and thin warrior in a Taoist robe on the main seat.

"Zhang Xiaohu, from today on, you are my Qiu Jing'an's registered disciple."

The latter proclaimed loudly.

After speaking, he looked up and saw a messenger dressed in black, crossing the outermost threshold of the Taoist temple.

The cheers were loud and loud.

A model sand boat is offered to the Dragon Temple on the riverside.

The new ship was launched in full view.

"We have a seventh ship in Shunde, and the owner has to say a few words to everyone!"

The jubilant steward shouted.

The proprietor in a brocade robe wiped his bald head and strode onto the stage.

"It's a great honor for all of you to come to the show......"

He was smiling, but the back of his shirt was soaked with sweat.

The secret order that I thought I would never receive again was delivered to me half an hour ago.

Ghost of the barrage.

A mask that you can never get rid of once you wear.

The last time the picture freezes, it seems that the promoter has exhausted his strength.

Then, the sound of light and shadow rewinds like a raging wave.

High platform, new ship, Taoist temple, mountain villa, mansion, cabin, small courtyard......

Everything returns to the starting point of the backtrack-the broken sword penetrated into Zhan Yuanzi's heart.

The dizziness spreads again.

Ye Shu's body shook slightly, and he held on to the pillar next to him.

Exactly an hour had passed.

Hong Fan opened his eyes and saw the Western world, and the remnant sun covered half of the sky.

Thinking of those six faces, he only felt that the blood all over his body was burning.

(End of chapter)