The autumn wind rises, the maple leaves fall, the sword light passes, and the yin and yang are combined.

This is a teahouse on the outskirts of Chang'an in the early morning.

As soon as it was dawn, a gray-shirted man walked in with a steady step. Even if it was early in the morning, there were two or three people sitting in the teahouse.

"A pot of tea. ”

The man found a remote seat and sat down, his dress did not look like the style of the Chang'an generation at all, and the tone of his voice sounded very awkward, obviously a foreigner.

The man looked carefully at the teahouse, a female shopkeeper, dressed in plain clothes and makeup, who had not yet been tidied up, should have opened the door of the shop as soon as she got up.

In the innermost position, an old man and a young man sat in a pale yellow monk's robe, and the reddish-brown Buddha beads were as soft as ever, quietly drinking tea and making dry food for breakfast.

And at the closest place to the door of the teahouse, there was also a man, wearing a black shirt, with a scar on the corner of his eye, and a vicissitudes of life, holding the teacup in his right hand, and sipping tea carelessly.

It looks like nothing more than an ordinary teahouse.

"Tea is coming. ”

The shopkeeper brought a pot of tea to the man's table, and the morning sun shone on her face, like a fairy descending to earth, although her appearance was not very beautiful.

The shopkeeper put the teapot down and her eyes involuntarily skimmed behind the man.

On the man's body, he was carrying seven Qingfeng, giving people a dignified and serious feeling, and she could faintly feel that this was not an ordinary seven sword.

The man noticed that the female shopkeeper was staring behind him, but he didn't say anything, lifted the teapot with his thick palm, grabbed a porcelain bowl on the table, and poured a full bowl of tea.

The man picked up the large bowl of tea and gulped it down his throat.

He looked thirsty, just an ordinary bowl of tea, but he drank it so sweetly that it was like honey. A closer look saw that the shoes he was wearing were covered with dust, apparently from a long way away.

The shopkeeper gave a casual glance and then turned back to the counter.

The teahouse was quiet, everyone was doing their own thing, and the cool breeze slowly blew into the teahouse, rolling up the dead leaves falling on the ground, and there was a strong autumn mood.

No one would have predicted what would happen to this teahouse in a quarter of an hour......

"Is the tea good?"

The man in black sitting at the door of the teahouse asked nonchalantly.

The strange man had already begun to drink the fourth bowl of tea.

"Not good. ”

The man put down the porcelain bowl and exhaled.

"Where is Brother Tai from?"

The man in black asked in a low voice, all of which were questions that couldn't be beaten with eight poles.

"Not from Chang'an. The man replied nonsensically.

"What are you doing in Chang'an?"

"Searching for someone. ”

"Marry a daughter-in-law or go to see your mother-in-law?"

"Neither. ”

As he spoke, the man poured a fifth bowl of tea, and he raised the teapot high, apparently the tea inside was almost at the bottom.

"You're thirsty?"

"Hungry. ”

"Then drink more, drink enough and go on the road. ”

The man had just handed the porcelain bowl to his lips, and when he heard this, he couldn't help frowning.

"Whoosh!"

In an instant, a sharp sword stabbed into the man's head like a crossbow on a string.

"Bell!"

The man's body tilted slightly, and his right hand threw the porcelain bowl back, blocking the sudden sharp sword, and the tea was scattered all over the ground, but it did not hit his clothes.

The man in black was holding a sharp sword, and when he sensed that something was wrong, he immediately turned his wrist and pointed the blade of the sword at the man drinking tea and slashed away.

"Click!"

The man didn't know what technique he used, and the porcelain bowl in his hand flicked again, and he quickly blocked the sword of the man in black, and it was obvious that on the surface of the porcelain bowl, there was a fluorescent cyclone, which was brighter than the morning sun.

The two were at a stalemate for a while, and soon a crack appeared on the porcelain bowl, followed by a second, and the crack spread all over the porcelain bowl in the blink of an eye.

A smile appeared on the face of the man in black, and the palm of his hand pushed the sword harder.

"Bang!"

Who would have thought, the moment the man let go of the broken porcelain bowl, his body also stood up, and his left hand supported the bench at the same time.

The sword sharpened the iron like clay, and with no effort, it split a corner of the bench, and the plank popped out, drawing an arc in the air.

And the man who drank the tea had already left the tea table and was out of the attack range of the man in black.

"Give your name. ”

The man looked at the man in black very calmly, his face did not change at all, and his hands were still empty. Seven green blades were as solid as a rock in the scabbard.

"Ye Qinghe, from a valley in the far west. The man in black shouted with a rainbow of momentum.

"Valley of the Wicked?" the man asked, confused.

Ye Qinghe couldn't help laughing, "It's worthy of Wei Qijian, and it is your blessing to be able to die under my sword." ”

"If you break something, you lose money. ”

But at this moment, a soft woman's voice came out unhurriedly.

I saw the female shopkeeper walking lightly, and a smile appeared on her not beautiful face.

"Ten taels for a bowl and twenty taels for a bench. The shopkeeper smiled kindly and said, "I'm talking about gold." ”

"I don't have any money. Wei Qijian shook his head and said.

"Then pay for your life. ”

As she spoke, the shopkeeper stretched out her right hand forward, and a bright light and shadow galloped from outside the teahouse.

The light and shadow dissipated, and she saw that in her hand, there was a small sword, the sword body was very thin, like a thin piece of ice, and the blade exuded a trace of white cold.

The temperature in the teahouse couldn't help but become cold.

"Who are you?" Wei Qijian asked.

"Autumn painting fan. The woman replied.

"Haven't heard of it. Wei Qijian replied honestly.

"You'll understand when you're dead. Qiu Hua Fan said, holding the cold and thin sword in a sword posture.

"Can you wait for me to drink another bowl of tea?" Wei Qijian asked in a low voice as he stared at the teapot on the table.

"Aren't you afraid that the tea is poisonous?" asked Qiu Huafan incredulously.

"I'm afraid. Wei Qijian nodded and said, "But I won't die, because I still have to see her." ”

After Wei Qijian finished speaking, he smoothly pulled out the long sword in the middle, from the hilt to the tip of the sword, it was all pitch black, like a pitch-black coal.

Wei Qijian didn't talk nonsense anymore, dozens of sword qi had already converged on the blade, black and white. In half a breath, the black long sword had already reached in front of Ye Qinghe.

The sharp sword in Ye Qinghe's hand suddenly turned into an invisible cyclone, like a mist shrouded in front of him.

In the mist, there was a violent spiritual power everywhere.

This is the sword intent, which belongs to Ye Qinghe's sword intent.

"Sword Qi Changhong!"

Wei Qijian shouted in a low voice, and the crystal sword qi attached to the black long sword flew outward at the same time, exploding in the fog, this scene was like fireworks in the night sky, but unfortunately there were no colorful colors, only terrifying waves of qi attacked.

The mist dissipated, and the black blade drove straight in, constantly approaching Ye Qinghe's throat.

"Ding!"

But at this moment, Qiu Hua Fan waved a thin sword of ice to block the black blade, like a transparent piece of ice. A thick cold aura poured out from the ice chips, and I saw that on the black blade, a layer of frost condensed and was locked on the thin ice sword.

"Wei Qijian, I will accept your life!"

Ye Qinghe took the opportunity to kill with a sword, piercing Wei Qijian's heart.

He concluded that it would be impossible for Wei Qijian to block this blow.

He will be buried forever in this unknown wilderness with the autumn winds.

Wei Qijian was very calm, and he didn't blink his eyelids.

However, who has not noticed that at this time, there is something missing in his body.

To be precise, it's a green blade.

He had only five unsheathed swords left on him.

When the sharp sword in Ye Qinghe's hand had already pressed towards Wei Qijian's chest, a sudden flying sword pierced his body from his back.

Ye Qinghe's eyes widened, staring ahead.

At this time, Wei Qijian was no longer in his sight.

He seemed to see a man, a little child standing by the stream, holding a broken willow branch in his hand, using it for a dagger and enjoying himself.

The child's face continued to enlarge, and it was seven points similar to him.

But soon, the child, along with the rushing stream, turned into a mist that covered his eyes.

Ye Qinghe has killed countless people in his life, and he can see those dead figures in his sleep every night, and his face stays at the moment before they die. Like evil spirits, they revolved around him.

And at the moment when the flying sword pierced through his body, he suddenly realized that he had woken up from a dream.

He collapsed limply, his eyes no longer shining. However, a smile froze on his face, as if he saw something that made him happy.

A powerful air flow burst out from Wei Qijian's right hand, and the frost on the blade of the sword suddenly dissipated into the air. He drew his black sword and turned it into a black lightning bolt, slashing at the left arm of the autumn fan.

"Poof......

The autumn painting fan spewed out a mouthful of blood, and the icy thin sword disappeared into his hand. She subconsciously covered her left arm with her right hand, and the sleeves of her shirt were stained red with blood.

There was a deep fear in her eyes, as if she was looking at a demon.

"I once swore that I would never kill a woman again in my life. Wei Qijian said flatly, bending down and pulling out the flying sword from Ye Qinghe's body.

Surprisingly, there was not a trace of blood on the flying sword, and it was still as clean as ever.

He put both swords back into their scabbards at the same time, walked back to the table before him, gently lifted the teapot, tilted his head to the spout, and poured the little tea left in his mouth.

He was really hungry.

Wei Qijian put down the teapot, took out three copper coins from his pocket, carefully placed them on the table, and turned to leave the teahouse.

The autumn painting fan looked at Ye Qinghe who died on the ground, a messy teahouse, like a dream.

"Master, why did they kill Wei Qijian?"

The little monk and nun asked in a low voice.

The two of them, master and apprentice, never left their positions from beginning to end, and even remained motionless.

"Because there are many people in Chang'an who don't want him to live. The old monk looked at the back of Wei Qijian leaving, which was the road to Chang'an.

"Then why did he go?" asked the little monk and nun puzzled.

"Because this is Chang'an. The old monk said in a deep voice and stood up.

The little monk and nun didn't dare to stay, took out some copper coins, put them on the table, and followed the old monk out of the teahouse.

The little monk and nun asked, "Master, where are we going next?"

They have come a long way.

"Do you want to participate in the Starry Gathering?" asked the old monk solemnly.

The little monk thought for a while, then nodded and said, "Yes!"

"Then you can stay in Chang'an. After the old monk finished speaking, he ignored the little monk and nun, and sped up his steps and disappeared at the end of the wilderness.

At some point, a beggar dressed in tatters came with a cane, carrying a broken bowl in his hand, and sang in a long voice: "The young man doesn't know the taste of sorrow, but he says that the weather is cold and autumn......"