The man in white was in a coma for a whole day and a night, and only woke up at dusk the next day. For the first time, he touched the sword beside the bed, the sword that belonged to him alone

Despite being in a strange place, the expression on his face did not show a trace of fluctuation, and he went straight out of bed. Outside the house, there was a rhythmic sound of chopping wood, and from that sound you could hear it, the woodcutter's knife was in the same place every time, which was really surprising.

One sound is like a pendulum, and each sound is sounded at the same time.

The man in white listened to the sound of chopping wood, and his thoughts seemed to return to the coma, and the faint singing seemed to linger in his ears.

Out of the house, it's a courtyard that's similar to what is common in the Japanese countryside, but it's just larger. A slightly short figure was bent over chopping wood. On his side, woodworkers piled up neatly to form a hill.

At this time, the layers of snow cover it, like a small house made of ice crystals.

The man in white stepped forward quietly, and the woodcutter didn't seem to notice him coming out. While chopping wood, he said to himself: "Man is weak in life, but strong in death, and the life of plants and trees is brittle, and his death is withered." Therefore the strong die and the weak live......"

When the man in white heard this, he was a little puzzled, his Ming official words were not good, he could understand every word of these words, but when they were combined, they were in a fog. However, he did not make a noise to disturb the woodcutter.

Although he didn't see who saved him, looking at the neat firewood under this person's knife, he knew that this was a master who lived in seclusion in the countryside, just like those famous swordsmen in Japan, who would live in seclusion in the mountain village when he was old, and did not ask about the world.

The man in white involuntarily bowed to the man as a sign of gratitude.

"This firewood is still dry and good, good to burn, little brother, do you say yes. The woodcutter spoke suddenly.

The man in white nodded, opened his mouth and said, "Liu Mingsheng has seen his predecessors. ”

The woodcutter laughed: "What seniors are not predecessors, a certain Zhang Songxi, a mountain village husband." ”

If Bai Yujing would definitely exclaim in surprise here, he would never have thought that Zhang Songxi, who jumped off the cliff with his wife, was not dead. It turned out that Zhang Songxi and his wife Lin Wanyu were rescued by a pine when they fell off the cliff.

Even so, they were both injured, but fortunately they were found by the white crow waiting at the bottom of the mountain, and it took more than three months to recover.

It's just that Zhang Songxi didn't want to see his senior brother Qi, so he asked the white crow to go to the mountain to find his daughter Zhang Cuiping. Of course, he also understands that Zhang Cuiping is a burden in Wudang after all, and Senior Brother Qi will definitely acquiesce to the white crow to take Zhang Cuiping down the mountain.

After finding Zhang Cuiping, the family of three returned to this place, which was Zhang Songxi's hometown and had been living a reclusive life.

If it weren't for the appearance of the Great Dream Venerable Lord's appearance that Zhang Songxi couldn't look at that day, he wouldn't have made a hindrance from it, and broke the nightmare technique of the Great Dream Venerable Lord with his singing, and Liu Mingsheng would have been saved.

"Zhang saw that although you are young, you have already worked hard and cultivated, but you are hard and easy to break, and you can't understand the reason of weakness, otherwise why would you be controlled by that foreign yi. Zhang Songxi said slowly: "Just like this firewood, it is still very flexible when it grows, and it gradually withers after it is cut down." Therefore, the living are soft, and the dead are stiff. ”

Speaking of this, he saw that Liu Mingsheng was still expressionless, and couldn't help but say, "Do you understand?"

Liu Mingsheng shook his head, bowed again, and said, "Please advise!"

Zhang Songxi put down the scimitar of chopping wood and stood up, although he was not tall, but under the slanting light of the sunset, he had a unique demeanor in the face of the man in white.

"You draw your sword!"

When Liu Mingsheng took out the sword, Zhang Songxi suddenly felt that he still underestimated this person. The sharpness of this person's swordsmanship is far beyond Zhang Songxi's imagination. That resolute and resolute, as if there was no return to life or death, made Zhang Songxi feel cold all over his body.

It seems that there has never been such a fierce swordsmanship on the rivers and lakes!

In the face of such a sword, even Laoshan Shangdao people had to draw their swords, but Zhang Songxi still fought the enemy empty-handed.

If you change the people on the Daming rivers and lakes, I am afraid that you will have three points of spare strength when asking for advice or learning from others, so as not to hurt the other party. But Liu Mingsheng obviously doesn't understand the rules here, in his opinion, every sword must be going all out, which is the respect for the other party.

A lightning-fast sword stabbed directly into Zhang Songxi's chest, and he saw that Zhang Songxi was about to die on the spot, but he saw that his swarthy hand was glued to the white sword body in an indescribable way.

The sword that was originally stabbed into his chest was stabbed to the left side of his body with a flick of his hand.

Seeing Liu Mingsheng's wrist move and the sword body slashed horizontally, what was surprising was that Zhang Songxi was like a fallen leaf, and was swept aside gently by the sword wind. Liu Mingsheng stepped forward with the sword again, Zhang Songxi's hand was like a magnet, and when the sword body stabbed it, it was firmly stuck by him and deflected to the side.

Let him use his sword, and it won't help.

Between the white shadows flying, the human sword is like one, flashing around Zhang Songxi. Liu Mingsheng took a few breaths and dozens of swords, but Zhang Songxi was like a boat swaying back and forth on the waves, never being swallowed up by the waves.

Liu Mingsheng's sword is not unpleasant, nor unfavorable, but Zhang Songxi is like the wind, like water, and the sword light is difficult to hurt in the slightest, but it is shuttled back and forth in the sword shadows in the sky. If Zhang Songxi is an enemy, Liu Mingsheng will not be enough to die even if he has ten lives.

"What kind of martial arts is this, senior?" Liu Mingsheng couldn't help Zhang Songxi after all, so he couldn't help calming down his true anger and no longer swords.

Zhang Songxi said with a smile: "What martial arts, this is not any martial arts, just Taoism." The Taoist, as Lao Tzu said: the softest in the world, the strongest in the world. Little brother, your swordsmanship is not bad, and it can even be called the best. But it has already gone to an extreme, although it can also crisscross the rivers and lakes with this, but after all, it is the law, the art, and the non-Tao. ”

Liu Mingsheng closed his eyes and was silent, as if he was thinking about the scene just now.

After a long time, he opened his eyes and said slowly: "Thank you, senior." ”

Zhang Songxi laughed: "No need to say thank you, how much you can realize is your own creation." It's just that even if you understand this principle of rigidity and softness, I'm afraid that it will be difficult to defeat the old man, do you know why?"

Liu Mingsheng shook his head.

"Cultivation in the world is nothing more than cultivating and refining qi. The ancients said: There are three treasures in the sky, the sun, the moon and the stars. People have three treasures, spirit and spirit. My generation has cultivated to the top, and when the true qi is complete, we have to condense the gods. It is because everyone has an ancestral spirit platform on their foreheads, which is where the gods live, and the gods are born when the spirit is sufficient. ”

"Ancestral Pregnancy God, isn't this the legendary rebirth, and the day after tomorrow will return to the innate nature?" Liu Mingsheng's eternal expression showed a hint of emotion at this time.

Zhang Songxi shook his head and said, "Innate? Yes and no." What is God, the rivers and lakes have always been unclear, and turning over the scriptures written by the ancients is mostly tricky. Zhang believes that God can also be called meaning. A person's true qi is complete, and he begins to refine his spirit, giving birth to his own martial arts, using a sword is called sword intent, using a knife is called sword intent, using a fist is called fist intent, and so on. ”

Speaking of this, Zhang Songxi suddenly pinched his sword and stabbed at Liu Mingsheng.

If this sword seems to others, it can be described as ordinary and unusual. But Liu Mingsheng only felt that the white expanse in front of him was immeasurable, immeasurable, and when he was awake again, Zhang Songxi's sword finger was only an inch away from his forehead.

"This is ......" Liu Mingsheng exclaimed, "This is sword intent?"

"Intentions, intentions, when do you understand this, then Waiyi can be killed with a sword!" Zhang Songxi said.

Liu Mingsheng suddenly had an impulse to stay and follow Zhang Songxi's practice. But he bowed to Zhang Songxi again and said, "Thank you, senior!" After speaking, he turned around and left, just like his swordsmanship, resolutely.

Zhang Songxi was slightly stunned, in fact, he saw that Liu Mingsheng had such a swordsmanship cultivation at such a young age, and he wanted to pass on what he had learned, but he never expected that Liu Mingsheng would be so decisive when he was obviously excited.

Looking at Liu Mingsheng's back towards the sunset, the light reflected by the miserable white clothes was so dazzling, just like the snow on the ground.

Not long after Liu Mingsheng left, Lin Wanyu and Zhang Cuiping returned. Zhang Songxi continued to chop wood, and suddenly saw Zhang Cuiping running out of the room: "Daddy, where is that person?"

"Gone. Zhang Songxi didn't raise his head.

Zhang Cuiping seemed a little unhappy: "Why did you leave?"

"He's a charlatan. Zhang Songxi couldn't help but sigh when he said this.

"Jianghu people......" Zhang Cuiping smiled: "Daddy, aren't we Jianghu people?" It's just that I think he looks a little similar to that little Taoist priest, but I don't know if he can tell stories. ”

......

Seven days later, the Sword Casting Villa was full of people again.

The furnace in the mountains was lit, huge smoke billowed up, and the heat wave swept away the snow that had not melted for days.

The alien iron brought by Yao Mingyue has been handed over to Zhang Fusheng, and because the sword gall has been taken away, the ancestral shrine does not need to be guarded. Zhang Fusheng specially invited the three old men in Mai, that is, his uncle, fourth uncle, and sixth uncle to help cast the sword.

The sixth uncle, Zhang Anran, was the best at making pottery, and even went to Jingdezhen, Fuliang County, Jiangxi Province to learn pottery. After making a pottery fan according to the sword diagram brought by Yao Mingyue, Uncle Zhang Chixing was good at calcination, so he sent the different iron into the furnace for calcination.

It is said that this strange iron is also rare, and it was calcined for three days and three nights in the fire before slowly melting.

Behind is the matter of the fourth uncle Zhang Mingchen, he has to slowly polish and temper, and he must have at least half a moon in the end.

Qin Ruyi had already returned to Longhu Mountain because of the sword guts, and he also had to inform the faction to get ready. And the people of Wudang also arrived the day before yesterday and hurried back. Speaking of which, Zhao Shiquan and Bai Yujing had met in the past, but the years were in a hurry, and the two had long forgotten each other.

This night, a commotion woke up the people in the villa.

Originally, I thought that the Sword Casting Villa was already peaceful, but I didn't think that just a few days later, someone died again. It was none other than Zhang Fusheng's third uncle Zhang Yicong who died.

The sword mark on his throat caused an uproar among the crowd!

Bai Yujing walked out of the room, and he was surprised that Yao Mingyue was not there. He asked a lot of people, but no one saw Yao Mingyue, which made him feel a little uneasy in his heart.

And on the mountain road about five miles away from the villa, Yao Mingyue blocked a person's way.

White, miserable white, no other color except for black hair and black eyes.

The man's face was expressionless, his face was sickly pale, and his body exuded a cold chill. In this late night mountain, it is like the shadow of the underworld. Yao Mingyue frowned slightly, not daring to be careless. She could clearly feel that the man in white had a terrifying aura, like a cold blade that had been frozen for thousands of years.