At the foot of Wangting Mountain, there is a village, the dilapidated Confucian Temple, which was originally dedicated to Confucian teachers, and has been fighting for many years, and the Confucian Temple has not been repaired, and it has long been dilapidated.

"Late to take advantage of the ancestors, the pine and cypress are miserable and people don't know. The walls of Jiu Qian Xiao are piled with rubble, and the three thatched halls are wild foxes. The rain is like a sad cry, and the dew drops are still sighing and sad. If the name of the little Confucian is established for a while, how can I teach my way to be late."

In the Temple of Literature, a bonfire was lit, and several branches of pine and cypress trees crackled in the fire, splashing sparks.

A scholar, thin and thin, wearing a green scarf on his head, like a pine tree, looked up with great resilience and looked at a few fragments of texts, chanting poetry. Not far away, a young man with a bookcase on his back, yawning, squatting by the fire, pouting and complaining, "It's all to blame, young master, that you coveted the scenery on the mountain and missed the time to stay."

The scholar's face flushed, "Hehe, Yuan Ning, it's really bad to blame me for this, just look at the scenery of Wudang Mountain, don't be angry, let's make do with it for one night."

The boy frowned and added a few dead branches to the fire.

The temple gate of the Temple of Literature was blown by the wind and creaked, which made the scholar upset. The door said it was a door, but in fact half a plank was barely on the door frame. The scholar got up and went to close the door.

"Smack".

The door frame fell to the ground, and a person flashed in, his hair was scattered, and his whole body was wet, as if he had just been fished out of the lake, which startled the white-faced scholar.

The man had a deep scar on his face, holding a knife in his hand, he looked around the Temple of Literature vigilantly, just two people, the scholar and the boy, he breathed a sigh of relief, and didn't care about the eyes of the two, walked to the corner alone, leaned the knife against the corner, took off his wet shirt, and wrung out a large puddle of water.

"This benevolent brother, if you don't mind coming here to roast the fire", the scholar took a few steps forward and saluted, and said loudly.

"Thank you, brother", the young man returned the salute, and he was not polite, picking up a few fist-thick branches, cutting off a piece of cloth and wrapping it, and roasting the clothes on the fire, and his muscles loomed.

The boy was Xu Lingxi, he dodged the dagger of Han Yao's dragon sparrow, jumped into the waterhole and drifted down the water for a while, just surfaced, he saw a boy standing in front of him with a smile, peeing into the lake, he was urinated by a hot boy urine, and he was annoyed. Without saying a word, he raised the Ming Hong knife and slashed at the boy, but before the knife arrived, he was lightly touched by the boy, and he fell into the waterhole, his limbs were weak, if he didn't know how to rest his efforts, he almost drowned in the waterhole.

"What an evil sect," he said, he finally grabbed a dead tree trunk that had floated upstream, and floated here to shore.

He saw that the burden beside the scholar was bulging, as if it was filled with a lot of things. The scholar named Yuan Ning looked at the greedy gaze in Xu Lingyan's eyes and moved his burden to the side.

"This Wangting Mountain can't go back, and the old ancestor of this ring pavilion was shattered by the golden bell. He was blessed by misfortune, and was not on the mountain. It's a pity that he didn't have a penny on his body, he looked at the scholar, this fat sheep crashed into his arms by himself, and he couldn't say that he would give him a ride tonight", Xu Ling was murderous, the scholar looked over here, Xu Ling smiled and nodded.