A rare look of surprise finally appeared on the face of the white-clothed Confucian student, but it was fleeting like a flash in the pan.

In the blink of an eye, the scarlet that tore through the sky had already flown in front of the white-clothed Confucian face.

The white-clothed Confucian put away his astonishment, and stared leisurely at the wooden sword wrapped in a terrifying red light, which was about to nail through the head of the door in front of him.

A figure followed the gods, stepping on the wind and clouds.

After approaching, the young man saw Lian Wansheng's expression clearly, his heart suddenly sank, the sword was still not impatient when he was forced in front of him, the actions of the white-clothed Confucian made him feel cold, but the arrow was already away from the sword and out of his hand, and there was no spare time for him to think carefully, he had to step on the fragmented green bricks, and his empty hands suddenly clenched into fists, attacking the middle-aged Confucian who stood tall in front of him like a hundred mountains.

The tip of the scarlet sword was like a dragonfly falling into a lake, pointing at the eyebrows of the white-clothed Confucian student.

The corners of the white-clothed Confucian Sage's mouth were raised, his body suddenly leaned back, and the menacing Divine Sword chased after him, slashing straight through within a few millimeters, pulling out a breathtaking scarlet firefly, and relentlessly drilling into the eyebrows of the white-clothed Confucian Sage.

This merry Confucian who has seen the ebb and flow of the great river and the east of the river sighed indifferently, and then two wide white sleeves fluttered and undulated, like a white butterfly flapping its wings and flying backwards, and the murderous flying sword was still impartially clinging to the white clothes, but the tip of the sword kept a finger distance from the eyebrows of the white-clothed Confucian from beginning to end.

If it weren't for the retreat at the same time, there would be the scenery on the Ten Thousand Buddha Flat as a reference, and the white-clothed gods would be as if they were frozen in the air.

One man and one sword swept all the way.

In an instant, the white-clothed figure retreated to the edge of the Ten Thousand Buddha Flat, and behind him was the stone staircase mountain road that winded and circled and was full of green lights, and almost disappeared in an instant when Confucius ascended the mountain.

The god is like a spirit snake coming out of the hole to sniff the prey, and there is no retreat, so he has to drill the forehead of the white-clothed Confucian to a pulp.

The white-clothed Confucian stepped on the green brick on the edge of the Ten Thousand Buddha Flat with one foot, and stepped on the blue brick with the other foot in the air, and the green brick under his foot suddenly fell apart, and suddenly retracted the rapidly retreating body.

Almost at the same moment, the white-clothed Confucian stretched out a hand, overlapping his thumb and middle finger up and down, and flicked it lightly at the tip of the sword.

In every gesture, there is a feeling that ten thousand years are actually blowing your fingers.

The hideous scarlet god suddenly hit a thousand catties of black iron, and the entire sword body was like a banner fluttering in the wind, trembling violently, and then the red light attached to the sword body suddenly dissipated, like a dead leaf flying away, nailed deep into the blue brick ground.

A wave of unevenness has risen again and again.

A figure swayed in the air, blocking in front of the white-clothed Confucian Sage, but when this figure saw the sword that he had injected into the bottom of all the qi, it was easily bounced away by the two fingers of the Confucian Sheng, and the taste in his heart was indescribable.

Bai Yun threw a punch into the chest of the white-clothed Confucian saint, but as a swordsman without a sword in his hand, he used every one

Each move looks as if its power has diminished.

Sure enough, before this punch was fully stretched, it was brushed by the white-clothed Confucian student

Dial off the offensive.

How soul-stirring and shocking is fighting with his sleeves? Only Bai Yun, who is in the midst of it, understands that he can be true

I can feel that when the heavy punch is handed out, the wide sleeves brushed over, and the fist was like hitting the surface of the river, invisible and weak, and then the green sleeves were like a wave of waves, unloading the power contained in the fist without hesitation.

Tiangang realm?

At this moment when the four eyes met, Bai Yun's eyes were fascinated.

After the white wide sleeve swept flat, a palm was handed out from the layers of waves and surges, and it slapped Bai Yun's left shoulder accurately, Bai Yun immediately felt a pain of torn flesh and bones, but at the same time that the Great Prajna Heart Sutra flooded out of the protective body, Bai Yun stubbornly pressed the internal force of the protective meridians back into the dantian qi sea, he thought to himself that he could not reveal the secret of the dual cultivation of Buddhism and Taoism in front of Lian Wansheng and the elders of Muru Temple, so as not to leave a branch of the handle, if it was just to slander himself on this ground, it would not hurt, but it was inevitable that there would be people with ill intentions, like Liu Weiji of the Qingxuan Sword Sect, who would stir up the black and white truth, to detain the hair of Xia Shan with a false crime.

After being hit by this palm, Bai Yun stumbled back five or six steps, tightly covering his left shoulder, his face was as white as frost, he couldn't stop panting, and beads of sweat the size of soybeans couldn't stop sliding down his cheeks.

Why?

Bai Yun pressed the painful left shoulder with one hand, and glanced at the Shentu long sword that was deeply planted in the green bricks without missing a trace.

The mountain wind was blowing, Lian Wansheng put his hands back into his sleeves, and took two steps towards the injured disciple of Jixia, and the foot that stepped on the edge of the Ten Thousand Buddha Ping had just been raised, and countless dust was raised from the soles of his shoes, and the green brick under his feet had already disappeared quietly.

The white-clothed Confucian shook his long sleeves, his hands were always hidden in his sleeves, and in the face of Bai Yun's fierce killing move, he smiled unexpectedly: "You and I are quite similar." ”

Bai Yun swallowed the hot current that surged to his throat, his thoughts were flustered, and Lian Wansheng's heart-wrenching abrupt words made this newborn calf who had appreciated this river and lake for the first time very overwhelmed, and this Tiangang realm master who was enough to cover the sky was praising himself?

The white-clothed Confucian sage was shocking, and his sleeves were slightly lowered, and he said frankly: "Muru Temple's life has been exhausted, although Lian Mou doesn't know why you want to fight with your life like this, blocking the front of Muru Temple, but your resolute and resolute temperament is seven or eight points similar to Lian Mou in the past. ”

Bai Yun was silent, on the one hand, he didn't know how to answer Lian Wansheng's heartfelt speech, and on the other hand, he was thinking about how to pull out the god that was nailed into the green brick before the white-clothed Confucian made a move.

Lian Wansheng sighed softly, and Bai Yun quietly looked at the face of this most invincible Confucian scholar in the world, but there was only the indescribable Songhai Cangtian.

Lian Wansheng said expressionlessly: "The world only knows that Lian Wansheng turned into a saint overnight, and the scenery is the same, but they don't know that Lian Wansheng is disheartened and broken

The gods blocked and killed the gods and Buddhas, but they didn't know that Lian Wansheng was physically and mentally exhausted and scarred. ”

The most unique white-clothed Confucian saint in the world smiled sadly.

Bai Yi's last wry smile was almost weak, and he said: "One hundred and eighty people, all lost their heads overnight, if it weren't for the resolute perseverance in his heart, Lian Fusheng is afraid that he would have plunged into the surging Yellow River a long time ago, where is there still Lian Wansheng now." ”

"It's funny to say, others borrowed the luck of heaven and earth to enter Tiangang, and Lian Mou exchanged twenty years of life for Tiangang realm, all because he has been stuck in the breath of Lian's heart, and when he took the head of the dog emperor with his own hands to avenge his family, this gas has disappeared, and I don't know if it will really come to that day, Lian Mou can still hold on, and add a pot of plum wine to the grave of the clansmen. ”

It turned out that this Confucian student, who looked down on the world, used twenty years of life to exchange for a realm of Tiangang.

Bai Yun's eyes were full of astonishment that soared into the sky, and he finally understood the intention of the white-clothed Confucian to say this, and the white-clothed Confucian meant to tell him not to be a stumbling block on his way to revenge.

Lian Wansheng's words were clear enough, but Bai Yun never moved his body, and resolutely wanted to be the front mountain of the woody mountain.

Bai Yun didn't take half a step back, and said resolutely: "I want to guard this mountain gate for him!"

Lian Wansheng's eyes showed incomparable perseverance: "Anyone who blocks me from avenging my family, kill." ”

The moment the killing word was spit out, Bai Yun was like a frightened swimming fish, his body suddenly turned to the side, his toes were a little, the whole human form floated away like a ghost, and his right hand pulled out the Shentu long sword nailed into the ground with a bang, and then his body swayed up to 90,000 li, and his left hand quickly pinched out the finger.

The white-clothed Confucian Saint raised his head slightly, quietly looking at the young man whose qi was diffused and his body rose to mid-air, his demeanor did not change at all, as if all this had nothing to do with him.

Piercing the clouds!

In Bai Yun's mind, he floated past the picture of Dou Chang'an's move on the Qingqiu Ridge when he pierced the clouds.

The mountains want to fill me and I will move the mountains,

The sea wants to flood me, and I will seal the sea.

The wind wants to, I shelter from the wind,

The clouds want to cover me, and I wear the clouds.

A line of scarlet fell like a needle on the Ping Lake, falling from the top of the head of the white-clothed Confucian student, and countless qi machines converged in one sword

Rao is there really a dragon in this world, and he wants to make him go up in smoke?

The white-clothed Confucian Saint shook his head regretfully, his hands reached out of his sleeves, and with a wave of his knee-high white long sleeves, the wisps of qi visible to the naked eye also converged into a huge qi sword, and the green sleeves waved again, and the qi sword shot towards the line of scarlet.

Rumble!

An unprecedented loud bang exploded on the roof of the dome of Muru Temple, and the entire Ten Thousand Buddha Ping almost became a broken tile wall.

Bai Yun was lying on the ground of the broken green bricks, the meridians were scattered, and the scarlet Shentu long sword fell aside, he knew that the white-clothed Confucian Saint did not make a dead hand, the Great Wuwei Floating Life Decision and the Clear Wind Decision and the Great Prajna Heart Sutra gushed out from the sea of qi, swimming around the meridians, at this time he could feel that the meridians were recovering rapidly, but the white-clothed Confucian Saint was the power of the Tiangang realm after all, although this injury did not hurt the internal organs, but the meridians around the body almost became a plate of loose sand, and the recovery process was naturally longer than the injuries encountered before.

Bai Yun struggled to move his limbs and wanted to stand up again, but it was useless, so he could only watch as the white-clothed Confucian student took steps and approached the gray-robed old monk who had lost his light step by step.

The eyes of the Huiping monk are dull and the face is as white as paper, and the blood flowing out of the seven orifices has dried up, but he still maintains the posture of holding a Zen stick in one hand and becoming a Buddha palm in the other.

"Master Huiping, you have the incorruptible body of King Kong, and you could have fought with me for three days and three nights, but why did you break the Buddha's appearance and scatter the Buddha's light on Muru Mountain? Could it be that at this moment, the master still wants to reverse the luck of Muru Temple's exhaustion?"

"Amitabha. The monk Huiping said softly: "The donor's heart is already broken, why should the poor monk not be bad?"

(End of chapter)