The wind was howling, the clouds were thick, the lightning was thundering, and in the reckless mountains, a winding dirt road spread out like a long dragon.

A big horse galloped like the wind on this dirt road, and a cloud of dust like smoke rushed in the wind.

I saw a teenage boy on top of the horse, his dark hair was full of dust, and his milky white robe was engraved with black marks, and the traces of sweat flowed on his face, but his eyes were particularly bright, but in the brightness, he revealed anxiety and urgency.

On the belt around the waist hangs a circular milky white jade pendant, and a purple long sword, at a glance you know that it is a sword, only to see that the hilt of the sword is engraved with two small seals of Ziying, which is so different and particularly obvious.

Holding the saddle in his left hand, the whip in his right hand crackled on the horse's hind hips, and the horse's bloodstained but dust-buried hind rumps were oozing blood again, and his feet were on the stirrups and followed the horse's jumping vigorously and regularly, his body was crawling in an orderly manner, and his hands were shaking back and forth while holding the horse.

The boy couldn't help but look up at the sky.

Still, the rain was pouring from the sky.

In the blink of an eye, the road was muddy, and the horseshoe was muddy. Some of the flowers and plants on the side of the road were bent over.

Suddenly, a few sounds of horses that were not clear from right and wrong could be faintly heard.

The boy was even more eager, handed the whip to his left hand, brushed back the hair on his head with his fingers, and wiped it on his face.

He took the whip back to his right hand, and whipped twice more vigorously on the horse's hind hips, and shouted hoarsely twice, "Rack", "Rack".

In the blink of an eye, it disappeared from sight of the journey.

Not long after, a small tree-lined village, and a two-long gatehouse archway appeared in the sight of the teenager, the plaque on the archway in the four big characters "Tibetan Sword Villa" is clearly visible, the young man couldn't help but breathe a long sigh of relief. But he still shouted loudly, "rack".

In the blink of an eye, I passed through the gatehouse and came to the bronze wooden vermilion gate of a small courtyard.

The young man put a slight force on the stirrup with his foot, supported it with one hand on the saddle, twisted his body, gently fell to the ground, tied the horse to the ring on the wall, and came to the mouth of the wooden door in three or two steps, clenched his hands into fists and poured a few times on the door, and shouted vigorously in his mouth, "Muzi is white", "Muzi is white"

, hurry up and open the door, hurry up and open the door.

After a while, the vermilion gate opened with a creaking sound, and only the smell of wine came to the face.

I saw a personable middle-aged man, with long black and white hair, two gentle eyes revealing prodigality and arrogance, holding a paper umbrella with seven fairies in his hand, and a three-foot-long sword hanging from his waist. glanced at the young man outside the door, and said, "Why did you come, how did you become like this, don't worry, don't hurry, come here, what's the matter, uncle will stand up to you, tell uncle, and it's better to be with someone's woman."

The young man hurriedly spoke, hurry, Your Majesty is going to do something to Chengzhi's father, hurry.

Middle-aged suddenly, he shivered, grabbed Chengzhi's hand and hurriedly ran towards the black canopy bamboo raft in the small river behind the yard, still shouting in his mouth, how is it possible, how is it possible, you tell your uncle, "How do you know".

In the blink of an eye, they got on the bamboo raft, and two people picked it up, and a bamboo pole was on the shore, like an arrow from the string, against the river and went deep into the mountain.

That night, Chengzhi was resting, when he heard a knock on the door, he hurriedly got up, went over to look, and saw a small paper ball thrown by the door, picked it up and looked at it, with a line of delicate handwriting written on it, "Your Majesty wants to attack your father." There is no signature, but Cheng Zhi knows when he looks at the handwriting that it was written by Zhige Numei.

Mu Zi is in vain, hey, why bother. Chengzhi, there are still four or five days of travel, you go and take a rest first, there is also some food in it, and the rest is coming, the two of us take turns to rest and rest, and we are not in a hurry.