A gust of wind blew outside, and the leaves swayed impatiently, telling of the bitterness of the summer night

In addition to foreseeing possible futures, dreams can also remind people of the past, things that have long been dusty in the memory bank.

Murong Kun still closed his eyes, and he brushed away the heavy layer of dust covering the memory bank, but he didn't even remember where to put the memories he wanted to find.

The pain in his right shoulder brought his mind back to reality from a hallucination or a dream, and he finally found a memory—the Battle of Snow Peak.

Once, he and his friends who lived and died together fought for several days and nights in the heavy snow... More and more enemies made him gradually want to give up the struggle and stop doing this useless trap beast fight.

However, what happened next proved that there was nothing wrong with running away as the last of the thirty-six schemes.

The most unruly strategy led him to fall into the most sinister trap - the encirclement of the Nine Masters.

Back then, the artistic conception of the Nine Hearts was like a rare existence in the rivers and lakes, and he could only be said to be half a phoenix feather at most.

But fortunately, it can barely be regarded as the broken hair on the tail of the phoenix's neck, not on the tail.

As for the phoenix crown?

Of course, they belong to the five people who have reached the tenfold return to the Yuan realm in the legends of the Tang Dynasty.

The dragon saw the five people who did not see the tail.

It's just that Murong Kun never expected that person would be able to find three ninefold masters to specifically surround him, and he would definitely gamble on all his net worth.

In the face of his friend's betrayal, of course, he still chose to forgive, and he didn't like to do useless challenges, so in a situation where there were wolves and tigers behind him, he chose to jump off the cliff.

In addition to wanting to keep a whole corpse, the more important thing is to protect the reputation that was fought with his life - the name of the dignified Ten Halls of the Great Snow Peak, how can he give it to others as a stepping stone for the righteous hero?

Probably because of God's preference, Murong Kun's wild laughter after jumping off actually caused an avalanche.

The snow and ice that had accumulated on the snowy mountain for many years made him feel like he was floating in the waves, instead of being buried in the snow under the snowy peaks for thousands of years like his dead friends.

If they are lucky, their heroic appearance may be admired by the world for thousands of years.

Maybe that's a good thing, too? After all, people die lightly.

When Murong Kun woke up again, his heart seemed to fall to the ground from a high place, but it still didn't stop until he fell into the abyss-

An eightfold martial arts realm master who swept the rivers and lakes and had a rare opponent has become an ordinary person with no internal strength!?

"Whew..."

The pain in his right shoulder was uncomfortable, and Murong Kun carried the "Green Capsule Sutra" of internal strength, and a pale green light could be faintly seen in the darkness from his dantian along the straight spiral, and stopped after reaching his right shoulder.

The Qing Capsule Sutra was the night he smuggled out of Shennong Valley, and he stole miracles in the master's study.

However, Murong Kun didn't like to be a doctor, and when he was young, he only studied in Shennong Valley for a few years before leaving with his master behind his back, and then roamed the rivers and lakes alone.

Shennong Valley specializes in divine doctors, and most of the martial arts classics of the sect are also related to medical skills.

The miracle skill of the Qing Capsule Sutra is indeed extremely strong, and the eight veins of the Strange Meridian are broken, and the immortals who have to shake their heads when they see it, can recover in a few months.

In this way, Murong Kun once again returned to the Eightfold Realm.

After the biggest trouble is solved, all that remains is a few traumatic injuries that are insignificant to him.

That year, in order to find those friends who had fled in all directions, Murong Kun hurriedly appeared in the rivers and lakes when his injuries were not too good.

And then... The sword knocked him out of the rivers and lakes again......

After running for thousands of miles, he finally got rid of all his enemies in this almost isolated mountain.

When Murong Kun fled to this deep mountain, he no longer had the strength to move forward, and the place where he originally planned to recuperate from his injuries was also an isolated mountain, but it was much more lively than here.

But anyway, they are all deep mountains and old forests, deserted, Murong Kun simply hid here to recuperate from his injuries, preparing to reappear again after his injuries healed.

（... How many years?)

This question was asked by Murong Kun's heart, and he was the only one in this small wooden house, so he could only answer this question by himself.

"One, two, three...... It's been thirteen years. He touched the marks on the head of the bed in the dark, and after counting, he shook his head and said, "Tsk, the rivers and lakes." ”

There is no calendar in the mountains, and the cold does not know the year.

Murong Kun picked up the cigarette stick placed at the head of the bed, pinched the tobacco in the cigarette pouch, stuffed it into the smoke pot and compacted it, and when he took out the fire sickle, his action paused, and he took out some of the dead grass leaves in the smoke pot and put them back in the cigarette pouch...

The darkness of the night mingled with the glimmer of the stars lingering in the wooden house, and the white smoke that lingered in the glimmer slowly rose upwards and drifted out of the roof and the holes around it.

The bag was not actually filled with tobacco, but Murong Kun found some weeds from the surrounding mountains, dried them and mixed them together, and the withered grass naturally had smoke.

Due to the limited conditions, this is the only way he can do the best.

At first, he disliked the fact that the leaves of the withered grass burned more than the smoke of tobacco, and the taste was very strong and very difficult to smoke, and he had to cough for a long time when he smoked it, and his throat would hurt for several days if he smoked too much.

Now he felt that the taste of the withered grass leaves was too faint, so light that it had no taste.

Occasionally, he would try to mix different weeds to make a better pairing, but after countless failures, only the withered grass leaves that he had made at the beginning tasted the best.

However, he still enjoys it, and still picks leaves and digs grass everywhere, dries them and mixes them together as cigarettes.

Otherwise, in the deep mountains where there are few birds, what can relieve the boredom?

Aside from the habit of digging grass, his secluded life was simple.

Watch the sunrise and sunset every day.

Every day, I watched the smoke rise from the small village at the foot of the mountain.

In the small village at the foot of the mountain, there are only people who keep leaving and dying, so he will cut off his idea of accepting a few apprentices to relieve his boredom.

I thought I would leave soon, but I never found the right time to leave.

When you are bored, if you want to open your mouth to talk, you can find creatures who can only listen but cannot respond, reminisce, fantasize about various things, and idle with trees, flowers, birds, insects and ants for half a day or a day.

This is the second habit of his seclusion for many years.

......

He sometimes suddenly felt as if he was a prisoner imprisoned here......

No!

Indeed, the wicked people who are locked up in this prison!

A prison with no gates, no railings, no guards, no walls, and even freedom to enter and exit.

But he was locked up in this invisible prison for ten years. There are many folds closed, and there are many gray and white colors, and even... It's so close that I forget the time......

The chaotic memories that flooded back in his mind interrupted his train of thought, and the light of the fire in the darkness no longer flickered and moved, but floated in the air and slowly slowed down... Until darkness vanishes and swallows up that faint spark, and re-envelops the surroundings.

"Hey......"

He looked out through the hole in the hut, and the stars in the sky lit up with vitality from time to time.

Suddenly!

The shackles that locked him for ten years... A crack has opened!

He put the cigarette stick on the head of the bed, picked up the robe that had slipped to the ground, covered his body, and lay down heavily, accompanied by the creaking of the wooden bed, and muttered, "You don't see... Morning like green silk turning into snow at dusk......"

This is the third habit he has maintained over the years – reciting poetry.

......

Unknown mountain.

Run-down cabins.

The squeaking sound of the hut screaked intermittently, drifting into the sky with the summer night breeze...

Suddenly!

There was a star in the night that lit up in the blink of an eye, as if the strongest swordsman in the world was holding a long sword, drawing a silver sword qi that could split the sky, and the sword qi glowing with white light was obliquely slanted, extending to the end of the earth.

There is a legend in the world that every star in the sky represents a person's destiny!