Have you ever listened to the wind?

The autumn wind does not stop, and in such a steep col as the Two Wolf Slopes, a slight wind can linger non-stop.

There is a bamboo flute in the wind, and the song of Wu in ancient times is played, melodious.

Going down the high ravine, a group of men and horses walked lightly into the distance, about 20 people, more than 20 horses, and more than 20 knives.

There was only one delicate girl, playing a bamboo flute, leaning behind one person.

This group would never have imagined that there would be an ambush that had been hidden for a long time. At that time, half of the lives will be lost, and the narrow mountain road will be like a river of blood bursting its banks.

The men and horses in the ambush were led by Wu Qing.

Wu Qing undoubtedly had absolute confidence, his right hand was gently suspended in the air, forty-one pairs of eyes were fixed at the same time, once this hand fell, there were countless arrows and rolling stones on the cliffs on both sides of the mountain to attack together, that was the flesh and blood could not be stopped.

Suddenly, a strong wind passed through the narrow mountain road, and the flying sand couldn't help but charm the eyes, and some people in the team couldn't help but look up, just as they saw the silent sunlight flashing on the arrows.

"Hide. ”

A roar in the wind.

Wu Qing's hand was lowered, and the desperate rolling stones and arrow rain followed.

In an instant, the blood of a man and the blood of a horse were sprinkled at the same time.

After the arrow stone formation, there were already few people who could still survive, and then a spear and shield array appeared in front of the mountain road, step by step, approaching the remnants who were stumbling in a pool of blood. Every step is like taking a step closer to the abyss of death.

These people are not people who sit still.

Suddenly, a big man rushed out from under the cover, but saw that the muscles of the big man's arms swelled like vines spreading under the soil, and the amazing strength and his spiral waist were thrown out by him three horse corpses in a row, one knocked out the people on the left mountainside, one rushed to the right side of the mountain to push the stone pushers, and the last one bent the dozen copper shields.

At the same time, a chain suddenly appeared in the air, and the grappling hook at the tip was firmly embedded in the mountain wall.

Then there was a contraction, and the woman who played the flute climbed cleanly on the mountainside.

"Click", the chain came out again, but it was towards the crowd in the narrow passage.

A man who was neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin clasped the chain firmly in his hand, and then curled up and leaned into the arms of the big man.

The big man raised his head to the sky and roared, and for a moment, all the strength of his body poured into his arm, and then, like a spear, he threw the man into the air.

The woman tugged at the chain on the rock, until the chain folded at a strange angle in the air, and threw the man one side of the mountainside.

"Bang", this fall, even the bones are about to be loosened.

The man got up anyway.

There was blood on his face, and his nose was broken.

Wu Qing watched him get up, watched him dust off his clothes, and then rushed towards himself.

When he was still thirty-four steps away from the man, Wu Qing waved his hand.

The archer could reach out for the short knife at his waist and rush at the man one by one.

Something flickered in the man's hand, it was the sharpest ghost thorn, and countless jagged barbs cut into the pitch-black ghost thorn.

Once it was cut by this ghost thorn, the skin and flesh seemed to be crushed by seven knives at the same time, and the muscles and flesh turned outward like crumbs, and even if there was still a breath, it no longer looked like it was alive.

The man rushed too fast, and it wasn't until he really stood in front of Wu Qing's eyes that blood splattered in the air, and twenty hollow bodies fell.

Wu Qing's eyes widened, and there was only fear in his round pupils.

Then, Wu Qing heard the sound of the wind again.

In the silent mountains, the long wind that never stops in the ears, and the throat that is free and free of blood, it is very good.

When Wu Qing fell, there was only a slight extra blood hole in his throat.

On the slope of the two wolves, a long wind swept away.

Wu Qing's corpse tumbled down the steep hillside like a grain of dust and ashes.

Everyone stared at Wu Qing's death, and when those dead fish-like eyes could no longer be turned over, people also abandoned the blades at hand.

No one would fight for their lives for a corpse.

The wind is fierce, and the cold sun is rising.