Hu Buxi came and went, leaving only a short knife. Zhao Wu'an stretched out his hand and rubbed the back of the beauty's scarlet knife, thinking a lot in his heart.

It's not that he didn't want to leave Hu Buxi behind, but he also knew that if Hu Buxi insisted on leaving, he would definitely not be able to keep it. Everything can't be forced, Hu Buxi also has his own way to go, which Zhao Wu'an knows all too well.

It's just that after a farewell here, Hu Buxi doesn't know where to go, and he may not be able to stay in Jiuda Temple for a long time. The rivers and lakes are vast, when will we be able to meet again?

If he asked, Hu Buxi would definitely laugh at himself.

That guy would have waved his hand, bent over with a smile, and said breathlessly: "Boss, you are always so worried! I want to find you, will I still not be able to find you?"

Every time he separates, Hu Buxi must look up to the sky and laugh, no matter how far he goes, he will never look back.

Zhao Wu'an sighed, blew out the candle, and called softly: "Magpie stepping on branches, Bodhisattva Man, picking mulberries, Su Musha, poppy beauty, pulsatilla." ”

The six swords were driven out of the sword box in turn, splashing with clear sword light, and hanging in the air leisurely.

Hu Buxi's personality is just like his knife path, all of them are indomitable, wind and thunder. Every time he swings the knife, he is deliberately for that ordinary knife. The sword intent will not disappear as soon as it is stacked, and it will accumulate over time, and it will be so strong that it is amazing, and Hu Buxi will also break through the situation.

Only then can one knife swing thirty zhang, and one knife can cut through half a mile.

Zhao Wu'an did not have such courage. First, the art of sword control needs to be gradual and gradual, to be precise, the cultivation of each sword must go hand in hand, and it must not be uneven, which will bring trouble to the deliberate intention. Second, even if he deliberately, with the depth of Zhao Wu'an's current qi sea, even if he sits and raises his sword for twelve hours a day, his progress is very limited.

It is precisely because of this dilemma that Zhao Wu'an is still stuck in the realm of the three grades, and when he meditates, the only thing he can do is to take the six swords out of the sword box and fly a few times in mid-air.

In fact, like Luo Jianqi back then, fighting to nourish the war is the most efficient cultivation method. But if the relics of Luo Shen are so valuable, Zhao Wu'an does not dare to frequently control the sword in front of ordinary people, even if he has to do it, he will only selectively control one or two swords. Exposing the flying sword as you like will will only cause trouble, so the method of fighting to nurture war will not work.

Looking at the six flying swords hanging in the air in front of him, Zhao Wuxin felt heavy.

When Lin Yun died, Wen Chuanyu had been confirmed to have broken the sea of qi, and he could no longer inherit the Luo Shen sword technique in this life, so Zhao Wu'an held Lin Yun's hand, a mouthful of a big lady, and personally promised to practice the Luo Shen sword technique to perfection, and practice to let the world remember that there is a Zhao Wu'an who controls the flying sword in this river and lake, and he has practiced so that the world remembers that there was a chivalrous man named Luo Jianqi.

Zhao Wu'an is less lonely, Lin Yun is like a reborn parent, how can he fulfill this person's last wish. Therefore, in this life, he is spurned by the entire martial arts, and he has to grit his teeth and fight into a product.

Thinking of this, Zhao Wu'an sighed again and cursed in a low voice: "The talent is dull. The progress of martial arts is so slow, Hu Buxi has reached the first grade, and you are still wandering in the third grade. If this is the case in this life, how can we revive the Seven Swords of Luoshen?"

The martial arts in the world are divided into nine products, one of which has four grades, which are divided into gathering spirits, passing through the mysteries, creation, and destiny.

After breaking the Heavenly Mandate Realm, it is known as the first realm on earth. This realm is independent of the realm of the Nine Grades, and it is a sign of transcendent sanctification. Including Luo Jianqi, only three people have reached that realm in seven hundred years.

Among today's rivers and lakes, the one who is considered to be the most promising to reach the first realm is the Dongfang Lianmo, who was the master of the Tang Sect in Shuzhong at the time and the peak of the creation realm.

Zhao Wu'an once aimed to defeat this person, but now that he thinks about it, it is really a fool's dream.

Being so troubled by Hu Buxi, Zhao Wu'an couldn't fall asleep anymore, took six swords into the box, and took advantage of the hazy moonlight outside, so he picked up the sword box and walked out of the meditation room.

Speaking of which, it's been a long time since I've walked in Kuda Temple. The journey was far away, and he should have fallen asleep, but Zhao Wu'an was completely sleepy.

There is a rising waning moon hanging in the distance in the sky, the night in the courtyard is as cool as water, except for the evening breeze occasionally blowing the treetops, the temple is silent, and the Buddhist temple is also dissolved in the deep night.

Zhao Wu'an walked slowly past the half-scorched old banyan tree.

recalled that the first time I met An Qing that day, it was under this tree.

At that time, the father and daughter of the An family were begging the abbot to send someone down the mountain to exceed, and it was a pity that the six abbots had just come down the mountain not long ago, and there was a lack of experienced monks in the temple, and the abbot of Jixuan originally wanted to refuse.

At this juncture, De Bing, who was "instigated" by Zhao Wu'an to roast the gray sparrow, accidentally burned the old banyan tree, which made Zhao Wu'an scolded by the abbot. Accompanied by An Qing to clean up the ash pile next to the banyan tree, the abbot was still angry, but looking at the young man and girl in front of him, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

In this way, no matter whether Zhao Wu'an wants it or not, he has to go down the mountain.

From Huaixi to Liangzhejiang, and then from Liangzhejiang to Huainan, along the way, Zhao Wuan was also very grateful for An Qing's company. If it weren't for her, he might have fallen outside Willow Leaf Villa by now, and he would have been chopped into pulp by angry righteous people.

But An Qing had already touched a taboo at this time. The story of Roselle can be told to her, and as long as she is obedient, she will not get into trouble. But when it comes to the years of struggle between the leaves and the Great Song Dynasty, no matter how smart An Qing is, he is facing the disaster of death.

Only this point, Zhao Wu'an will never back down. Even if An Qing doesn't leave Jiuda Temple, he won't let go.

The waning moon hangs low. Unconsciously, Zhao Wu'an had already bypassed the water room, and there was the Medicine Master Hall in front of him. There were a few candles in the temple that shimmered brightly and stood out in the darkness.

The monk's routine is regular, and when it is time to extinguish the candle, it will not be delayed, but there will be a lamp and candle in front of the Buddha, day and night. Therefore, every night in each hall, there is at least one monk guarding the incense candles, and several main halls of Jiuda Monastery have been guarded by the abbots in turn.

Zhao Wu'an didn't feel sleepy in the first place, but at this moment he felt that it would be a good choice to go to the temple to meditate for a while and talk to the abbots who had returned from a long journey.

Zhao Wu'an clasped his palms together and walked into the pharmacist hall with his eyebrows lowered. This side hall is not big, just in front of the Buddha shrine on the head, the Oriental pure glazed world Medicine Buddha is making a fearless mudra, leaning forward slightly, the treasure is solemn. There are bronze candlesticks on both sides of the main hall lined up, and the left and right sides are respectively dedicated to the sunlight and the moonlight Bodhisattva, forming a corner of the momentum, arching and guarding the great medicine Buddha in the middle.

In front of the Buddha shrine, there is a small merit box, a futon in front of the box, and there are monks sitting quietly on the futon, closing their eyes and meditating. Even if Zhao Wu'an walked into the hall, he didn't make the slightest movement.

Zhao Wu'an sat down on the futon next to him, closed his eyes and meditated for a while, and only after his state of mind had calmed down did he turn his head to look at the monk in his tattered robes.

Buddhists believe that there is no pure land in the world, so there is no clean clothes in the world, so it is often necessary to leave a stain on the clothes, which is called "point purity". The more torn the monk's robe, the more it shows the monk's dedication to the Dharma.

Although Zhao Wu'an is wearing a tie on his body, he is not clean. And the monk's clothes in front of him are so tattered, which shows his devotion and solemnity to the Buddha.

This person is the abbot of Cixuan who went to Shu and broke through the seven altars alone. He has always been humble and indifferent, and he does not like to fight. After traveling thousands of miles, as soon as Fang returned to the temple, he dutifully guarded the medicine hall to ensure that the candle was bright.

Although he did not believe in Buddhism, Zhao Wu'an admired this uncle very much.

Zhao Wu'an didn't disturb Ci Xuan's meditation, but he knew that Ci Xuan would definitely get up and change the lamp and candle, so he waited patiently.

However, until the fire in front of the Buddha was extinguished two or three times, Cixuan still did not open his eyes.

Probably because I haven't kept a vigil in the temple for so long, I don't remember how long a candle can burn. Zhao Wu'an turned his head to look at Cixuan, and suddenly felt a little strange.

From the time he came in until now, Cixuan hadn't even raised his eyebrows. Even when he was meditating and participating in meditation, Cixuan seemed too quiet.

Zhao Wuxin tightened.

He took a deep breath and looked around at one of the Buddha statues and two Guanyin statues in the Yakushi Hall, feeling apprehensive. Outside the door, a dark wind suddenly blew his long hair, and the candles in the temple were extinguished one after another.

Zhao Wu'an stretched out his slightly trembling hand and gently leaned under Cixuan's nostrils.

Completely breathless.

Zhao Wu'an was suddenly shocked, quickly retreated a step, and stepped on the futon under him crookedly.

The green brick floor of the temple was cold and smooth, and the futon slid out at once, lightly hitting Cixuan, and then falling lightly to the ground.

After being touched like this, Cixuan finally had some reaction, but it was not a light-hearted reaction.

Originally, he closed his eyes and bowed, his hands clasped tightly to his chest, and sat cross-legged on the futon, very much like an ascetic who had traveled thousands of miles to bow down. Touched by the futon, his body moved an inch, lost his previous balance, and slowly rolled down to the side.

A strong smell of blood entered Zhao Wu'an's nostrils at this time.

Zhao Wu'an gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and stared at Cixuan who was lying to the ground at this moment in disbelief. There is no doubt that Cixuan is dead.

How so?

When Zhao Wu'an was surprised to himself, footsteps came from behind him.

Zhao Wu'an's expression froze, he turned around, faced the door of the Medicine Master's Palace, and quietly untied the sword box and put it at his feet.

A figure slowly walked in the darkness.

This was followed by the second, then the third. Overlapping, it seems that there are quite a few people.

Zhao Wu'an was stunned.

The first to appear was Uncle Hongning, who was wearing a robe and robe, looking at the situation in the hall with sleepy eyes, with an uncertain expression.

Immediately behind him was the abbot of Jiuda Temple, Ji Xuan. In addition, the three abbots of Ci Wei, Ciqing, and Jizheng, who were seen in the dining room during the day, also walked in in turn.

Zhao Wu'an looked at these people in a daze, and these people also had strange looks in their eyes. Hongning scratched his bald head and wondered, "Why are you here, Wu'an?" Ah, what's wrong with Uncle Cixuan......

As if because he smelled the smell of blood in the air, Ci Wei's face changed, and he rushed forward to check on Ci Xuan's corpse, and immediately said in shock: "Senior brother!"

Ji Xuan raised his eyebrows: "What?"

"Senior brother, he ......" Ci Wai was shocked for a moment, endured the pain in his heart, closed his eyes and lowered his eyebrows, and pronounced the Buddha's horn before muttering: "Senior brother, he ...... has passed away. ”

As soon as these words came out, the eyes of several abbots instantly became terrified. The disheveled Hongning grew his mouth, scratched his head and said, "How is this possible...... He had even asked me to invite a few abbots...... Ah, Zhao Wu'an, why are you here!?"

In the face of Hongning's questioning, Zhao Wuan was almost speechless, and his hand was even pressed on the sword box.

"A few abbots...... Why are you coming again?"

"I got up in the middle of the night to relieve my hands, and I heard Uncle Cixuan calling me and asking me to ask the abbot and several abbots to discuss the matter, so I went...... But how can it be so long......" Hongning's eyes were full of incredulity, obviously puzzled by this matter.

A gleam flashed in Ji Xuan's eyes, and he asked sharply, "Zhao Wu'an?"

Zhao Wu'an was stunned for a moment, looked at the corpse of Cixuan who fell to the ground on the side, and then looked at the few people in front of him, looking confused.

The candle under the moonlight bodhisattva seat was gradually extinguished.

"If we are a step too late, we will be run away by you...... Zhao Wu'an, Ci Xuan treats you well on weekdays, why do you want to kill the killer so much?" Ji Xuan asked loudly, his voice trembling, obviously heartbroken.

The faces of the abbots behind him were cloudy, and they didn't know what to say for a while.

The confused expression on Zhao Wu'an's face gradually became indifferent, and even brought a hint of ridicule.

No matter who the real culprit is, blaming him so boldly is obviously a long-planned plan, and he has to deal with Zhao Wu'an well. Anyone who encounters this kind of thing is afraid that they will be angry, and Zhao Wu'an is no exception.

It's just that in addition to being angry, Zhao Wuan actually faintly felt a trace of happiness.

Okay, if you want to blame me, then be prepared to be hit back. It just so happened that I was also holding my breath.

I've been holding it back for years.

Zhao Wu'an clenched his fists.