The violent and complex vibration caused hundreds of sword qi of different colors to emanate from this short sword, and it flew upwards to meet the mountain shadow that smashed down from the sky.

One after another, sword qi rushed towards the huge shadow, and continued to bloom at the bottom of this mountain shadow like fireworks.

The Demon Dragon Spear in Mo Ying's hand began to vibrate, and then his body also began to vibrate.

The depths of his murderous eyes were instantly filled with a complex look that was difficult to describe in words.

He instantly understood that this shock did not come from the collision of real power, not because the power of Ding Ning's sword was strong enough to resist his "Demon Dragon Pry Mountain", but because it came from the depths of his heart, his own emotions were agitated.

The emotions carried by the other party's sword intent were perfectly transmitted to his perception and spiritual world, affecting his heart.

At this moment, he was like a flying sword being taken off the rails.

He was inevitably infected, and there were even many pictures of encounters in his mind, as if the sword that had just left his hand had only appeared in his eyes after many years, thus seducing him to meet Yan Xinlan for the first time, and to see this "warm spring" picture for the first time.

It was indeed a very warm spring.

In a battlefield in the south, countless golden rape flowers bloomed on the high and low mounds.

He carried a bucket of blood-stained bandages through a field of flowers, and beside the clear stream where the bandages were usually washed, a woman was washing her face.

That's Yan Xinlan.

On the left and right sides of the waist, there are two swords, one is the last flower, and the other is the warm spring.

Yan Xinlan, like those swordsmen in the Bashan Sword Field, the aura emanating from her body was like an extremely sharp sword, but her posture of washing her face was different from that of ordinary women, and she obviously sensed his arrival, but she still did not change her posture of washing her face, unhurried.

Many years later, he knew that this was her heart, and at the same time, she was stubborn not to change for outsiders.

When he stayed in the local area, Yan Xinlan just turned her head disapprerovingly and said: "Listening to your steps when walking, your breathing, and the force when you lift this wooden barrel, you should have cultivated some of the cultivation methods of Huang Chongjian Academy and White Deer Academy, and you have learned miscellaneous, not a descendant, but if you can learn this, you can already be considered a genius." ”

He was stunned for a long time, not knowing what mood he was in, but finally said, "Then can you teach me?"

She was noncommittal, and finally taught.

The golden colors in the sky and the picture of the meeting made his heart shake, and he lost his mind for a moment, and even trance.

This is enough for Ding Ning.

A sword shadow rushed out from under the mountain shadow with Ding Ning, the mountain shadow fell behind him, the ground exploded silently, and the sound didn't have time to come out.

Ding Ning had already broken Mo Ying's shot.

An irrepressible exclamation sounded like a tide as more tents were lifted.

The cultivators in the barracks couldn't believe their eyes.

They couldn't believe that there could be someone in the world who could break such a blow with no vision just by virtue of a trick.

"It's a miracle. ”

Mo Ying took a deep breath.

The turmoil in his eyes vanished.

The tip of the spear hung down to the ground, and the residual power on the tip of the spear easily broke through the shock transmitted from the ground, naturally removing any adverse effects of the wave shock of the vitality on his body and the true element in his body.

He didn't rush to make a move immediately, but looked at Ding Ning and said expressionlessly: "In the past, Wang Jingmeng fought all over the sects, and was familiar with the tricks of each sect and faction, and most of the tricks in the world were not only used, but also broken, so he had the ability to fight across the border." I can't imagine that you, as his heir, can do this. ”

Ding Ning raised his head slightly, looked at his eyes that returned to indifference and slaughter, did not respond to his words, just raised his sword, which seemed to make Mo Ying see more clearly, and at the same time asked softly, "Have you ever thought about why she would accept you as a disciple?"

"Why?"

Ding Ning's question did not make Mo Ying's heart ripple immediately, because he had been preparing to make a move, and at the same time, he was also preparing Ding Ning to make a move.

At this moment, Ding Ning took out his sword.

He let go of the hilt of the sword, and the short sword snorted, and flew out of his hand, and the extremely fast speed instantly turned the sword into an extremely faint shadow, but in the next moment, the trajectory of the sword and the sword intent that bloomed made the short sword that had become a flying sword even lighter, as if it disappeared directly into the air, but with a certain indescribable taste.

Just like in early summer, on a slightly drunk night, a person came to the Fengqiao willow tree, but happened to meet a woman he had seen before, but he liked but did not know where.

Ding Ning's sword brought this taste into full play.

The name of this sword is "Seeing Yuan".

Some things are called fate, which has a solemn and serious taste, and some things are called "fate", which often have a sweet and warm or slightly sad taste.

Mo Ying's gun made a grand sound, like a dragon's groan, with the gushing of powerful power in his body, the tip of the spear spewed out a red stream hotter than magma, this shot was the secret move "Demon Dragon Yin" in the cultivation classics of the ancient cultivation place of the old powerful gate valve in the past.

Not only is it blooming with the power of the legendary dragon's breath, and the spear is unmatched, but the grand voice also carries the power of the spirit and perception of the demagogic cultivator.

However, at this moment, as soon as his move started, he was not able to affect Ding Ning, but because of Ding Ning's previous words and the sword intent of Ding Ning's sword, his spirit fell into a violent shock again.

In his subconscious, he had actually thought about Ding Ning's question.

It's just that the answer is like a pebble sunk in the water, which was brought up by Ding Ning's sword intent at this time and surfaced.

He was indeed a very gifted cultivator, otherwise even if he had obtained the inheritance of the Bashan Sword Field, he would not have been able to become strong in a short period of time.

However, Mo Ying, who knew Yan Xinlan and her temperament very well, knew in her heart that the reason why Yan Xinlan would pass on his sword was because she rarely went out of the Bashan Sword Field back then, rarely communicated with people, and she was very young. Because she was young enough, when he mentioned asking her to teach him how to use swords, she had not had the idea of accepting disciples before, so she had not yet accepted extremely talented cultivators as disciples.

But the most important thing is that it is precisely because she is young enough that she believes in fate.

On a spring day when she was in a good mood and was full of flowers, she saw a young man who was pleasing to the eye, and then this shy and somewhat stupid young man asked her for swordsmanship, so she taught her.

This is the fate.

And then what else?

If there was, it was that he was still young enough at that time, so his eyes were clean, he had no desires and luxuries, just an ordinary pharmacist.

Mo Ying got the answer, his mood fluctuated even more violently, and there was a trace of disorder in the voice of the demon dragon's groan.

A light sword light passed through the scarlet qi flame and fell on his forehead.

He Huo Ran was between awakening and slightly confused, a trace of anger naturally flashed between his eyebrows, his left hand was detached from the body of the spear, and at this moment, when there was no delay, his two fingers clamped the sword light.

There was a soft thud.

The blade of the sword was like a slippery loach that forcibly detached from his fingers.

His entire body slid backwards, and the rapid friction of the soles of his shoes against the ground made the same sound as the flying sword and his fingers.

A sword mark appeared in the center of his eyebrows, deep in the bones, and blood flowed down the tip of his nose.

(This chapter describes my feelings, and I am extremely satisfied with myself, and I like it manually.) I'm even more embarrassed to say that I went to Beijing to attend the conference, and I didn't adapt to the water and soil, and the train back to Wuxi occupied a toilet on the high-speed rail, and almost became the first Internet god writer to pull the hanging, and I have been like this twice, and I feel hurt and weak. ）