Ci Wei's corpse was even more terrifying than Ji Xuan's description.

When Zhao Wu'an entered Ci Wei's bedroom, his two personal disciples were wiping down the furniture, and when they saw him walking into the room with the box on his back, their faces turned pale in an instant, apparently they had heard about last night's events from other abbots.

Zhao Wu'an turned a blind eye to the two monks and turned his head to look around the room. The corpse of the mourning man on the ground had been covered with a white cloth, and the axe used as a murder weapon was placed next to it, and blood was splattered in the room.

The place where the monks passed away must be a pure land, and a blood house was obviously not suitable, so before cremating the corpse of the mourners, the monks had to endure fear and nausea and clean up the room.

Zhao Wu'an squatted down, lifted the white cloth, and a smell of blood came to his nose, and he immediately heard a monk above his head retching.

Zhao Wu'an quietly inspected Ci Wei's body. The fatal wound was indeed caused by an axe, which was slashed from the right shoulder with an axe, cutting half of the torso, and the wound spread to the left lower back before stopping, accurately splitting the heart in two on the way.

The axe placed next to it is not large in size, but it is better than the slender handle, which is an extremely common wood-splitting axe. At this time, the axe body was stained with congealed blood, and it looked extremely terrifying.

Zhao Wu'an grabbed the end of the axe, picked it up, and observed it carefully. No matter how you look at it, this is just an ordinary hand axe, because the wooden handle has been mottled over many years, and the axe body has rust.

If the weapon was this axe, the wounds on Ci Wei's body would be too terrifying. What's more, if the blood has been sprayed all over the house, then it is impossible for the perpetrator not to be stained with blood, and how he can get out of everyone's sight is very strange.

Recalling that Cixuan died in the Medicine Master's Palace, the heart in his chest was completely hollowed out, which was also a practice that would cause heavy bleeding. But the corpse was very clean, and until Zhao Wu'an accidentally knocked over the corpse, there was not even a smell of blood in the Medicine Master Palace.

Zhao Wu'an reached out to probe Ci Wei's snort, but there was no doubt that he did not react. It was true that he had died shortly in the afternoon, and now his body was cold and hard, with green spots on his hands and feet.

You have to find Hongning and ask carefully.

Thinking of this, Zhao Wu'an straightened up and looked around the mourning meditation room again. As the abbot, the furniture of the mourning is still very simple, a bed, a square table, the wardrobe in the corner is mostly empty, and the wall is hung with a hand-copied Prajna Heart Sutra, which is delicately framed.

The two young monks looked at each other, afraid of Zhao Wu'an, and they didn't dare to come out.

Zhao Wu'an stood in front of Ci Wei's corpse for a moment, his right hand clenched the lanyard of the sword box, silently recited the Great Compassion Mantra in his heart, and turned around to go out.

The warm winter sun is shining, and it is getting westerly. After all, it is winter, and it will always get dark very early, not to mention that it is the end of the month, and the nights are long, so it is inevitable to have many dreams.

In the corner of the courtyard of the mourning house, large bundles of wood are stacked in a mess. In winter, when a fire was to be lit for warmth, the abbot would presumably hold an axe in his hand and carefully chop the wood into slender strips and stuff it into the furnace.

The walls of the courtyard were only nine feet high, but the firewood was piled up to six and a half feet. Zhao Wu'an stepped on the firewood, maintained the balance of his body, and slowly climbed upward. He sniffed deeply as he approached the wall, vaguely sniffing something.

An inconspicuous tile at the top of the wall was stained with light blood.

Zhao Wuxin moved, realizing that he had found a breakthrough. He rolled over and jumped onto the wall and looked around. To the west of the right hand is the gate of the courtyard of mercy, and there is a path leading to the water house. The tiles on the east side are closely attached to the eaves of a latrine, and between the two walls under the eaves, there is a narrow slit one person wide.

The temple has always paid attention to cleanliness, so the latrine does not smell too much. Zhao Wu'an supported the eaves with his hands and sank down to the middle of the two walls. The courtyard wall and the wall of the latrine are connected, so at this time, behind Zhao Wu'an is a solid wall. As long as he jumped into this narrow slit, almost no one knew that he had come out of the mourning chamber.

Zhao Wu'an walked forward.

The latrine was not very large, so the wall was only more than a foot long, and it soon came to an end. In front of it is a famous scenic spot of Jiuda Temple, the leaping carp pond.

The pond is not big, and there is no complicated decoration, only a few strange stones on the shore, and a small pavilion on the top of the gilded house by the pond contrasts with each other.

When the flowers and plants grow in spring, there are often red carp jumping out of the water, reflecting the pond full of green lotus, which is very interesting. However, in winter, it is often much deserted, and even the monks in the temple do not come often. An Qing came to Jiuda Temple in the spring of this year, and I think I have enjoyed the beautiful scenery here.

Zhao Wu'an doesn't have much to do to enjoy the scenery now. He walked quickly to the edge of the pond and looked down, and sure enough, the clear water of the pond, which had been used for koi to play and play, was now faintly scarlet.

Zhao Wu'an stretched out his hand and pressed the sharp stone on the edge of the pond and jumped down from the pond.

Bang!

The water splashed, startling away a few swimming fish, and Zhao Wu'an reached out to grope under the water. The pond is very shallow, only to the waist of Zhao Wu'an, there is a small mouth at the north end, which can lead the living water under the mountain into the pool, so the water of the pond is very clear all year round.

But at this time, because of the faint color of blood, the water of the entire pond became muddy. Zhao Wu'an dragged his body and walked towards the most colorful place in the pool.

The winter water was bitterly cold, and it was difficult for Zhao Wu'an to move quickly in it, so he could only grit his teeth, endure his trembling body, and bury his head in the water to find it.

If the murderer wants to leave without arousing any suspicion, he will inevitably leave something in the pond!

In the deepest part of the bright red, blood has poured into the nose. A pond of clear water is muddy.

Zhao Wu'an stretched out his ten fingers and groped under the water, the soil embedded in his fingertips, but he still didn't stop.

Finally, his fingers touched what seemed to be a piece of cloth, and Zhao Wu'an's heart pounded, and he grabbed the piece of cloth and pulled it out of the water.

He pulled up a brand new monk's robe, muddy and scarlet.

It is said to be brand new, but it is only because it is not worn compared to the clothes often worn by the abbots. It was densely covered with dots of blood, most of which were still bright red and had not faded, which was shocking.

Zhao Wu'an's face remained unchanged, he carefully folded his bloody clothes, turned around and walked towards the shore.

When he stepped on the flat ground, his shoes and lower clothes were already soaked, Zhao Wuxin sighed secretly, and he didn't care about dealing with it, so he only folded the bloody clothes and put them on top of the dark red sword box.

Scarlet presses dark red, and the two colors merge into one, not distinguishing each other. Zhao Wu'an looked at this scene and frowned.

Since the murderer was wearing a silk robe, there is no doubt that the murderer was a person from the temple. They are all in the same door, and they are people in the empty door, why did the murderer kill the two abbots of Cixuan and Ci Wei?

Unless......

Recalling Houshan Hongning's well-dressed mound, Zhao Wuxin moved, and seemed to suddenly recall something.

Because of this momentary trance, Zhao Wuan did not notice the danger from behind him.

Dressed in a familiar robe and holding a heavy Zen staff, the visitor quietly approached from behind Zhao Wu'an. When there was still one zhang left, this person suddenly attacked, and the steel Zen staff set off a fierce whirlwind in an instant!

Where Luoshen's sword intent was shrouded, Zhao Wu'an's back was also visible.

Zhao Wu'an suddenly reached out and picked up the dark red sword box, turned around to avoid the incoming whirlwind, and let out a low cry in his mouth, and the surging sword qi like a sea erupted in an instant, sweeping the entire pond.

The water of the Crimson Pool rolls upside down.

Looking at the scene of the pond floating in the air, Zhao Wuxin thought about it, recalling that on the Baoyou Bridge this summer, Jiang Caiyi waved his hand to break the strings and summoned the lake water as a sword.

If he can also use the pond water as a sword, he will be able to break through the limitation of internal force and control several flying swords with the skill of the three-rank realm. Although in this way, the sword momentum must be insufficient, but the flying sword has always been known for its agility and lightness, even Zhao Wu'an, who is well versed in his ways, and Hu Buxi, who is outstanding in internal strength, are difficult to take the lead in the face of Jiang Caiyi's thousand sword siege.

It's just that it is indeed not easy to control the flow of water with sword qi. Fang Cai caused the pool water to roll up due to the surge of sword qi, which seemed to provide Zhao Wu'an with some ideas. He frowned and thought for a moment, vaguely feeling that he had groped for some eyebrows.

However, before he could react, the person who came rushed up with a roar, waving the Zen staff in his hand like a windmill, and attacking fiercely.

Zhao Wu'an, who was determined to confirm the idea of using water as a sword, was not in a hurry to take out the sword, but took advantage of the Zen staff to dance in the wind, quickly retreated, stared at his heart, held down the sword box, and constantly infused his palm with internal force.

In this way, the Buddha is the only one, and the five lakes and four seas are called as swords.

The comer didn't mean to stop, waving the Zen staff in his hand, shouting and pounced on Zhao Wu'an. Zhao Wu'an's tippery box retreated, but the whirlwind of the Zen staff chased after him.

A pool of winter water is gradually dyed with frost and cold.

Zhao Wu'an's eyes were fierce.

Rumble!

The white-clothed monk suddenly stopped, stretched out his hand and slapped it fiercely on the dark red sword box, and the sword intent in the box exploded, sucking out the entire pool of winter water and hanging behind him.

Zhao Wu'an raised his voice and called: "Yu Beauty, Su Musha, Bodhisattva Man, Pulsatilla, Magpie Treading Branch, Picking Mulberry!"

Six swords come out together.

But not a sword came out of its sheath in the box.

The water curtain behind Zhao Wu'an turned into several cold flying swords, with different forms, sword intents, and each other resonated with each other.

The monk holding a Zen staff had a shiny bald head, and there was no fear in his eyes, only anger.

It seems that it is not to Zhao Wu'an, but to the anger of the flying sword.

Zhao Wu'an was stunned. Not because I saw the monk's face.

As for who the murderer was, he had already made all the psychological preparations, and he would not be surprised to see anyone at this time.

But the monk's eyes surprised him. This look doesn't seem to belong to the world, this hatred...... It's like coming from the eighteenth layer of hell.

He didn't do anything, but he was able to provoke such hatred.

Zhao Wu'an's eyes showed a trembling expression: "Why is this ......?"

The castration of the Ice Water Flying Sword slowed down suddenly.

“...... Why do you hate me so much, Uncle Cihong?"

Abbot Cihong, who is usually humble and courteous, and is the closest to the young monk among the abbots, is holding an auspicious Zen staff at this time, and his expression is fierce and sad, like an evil ghost staggering out of the gate of hell.

The six flying swords in front of Zhao Wu'an were hanging in the air, and his expression was frozen.