If you want to walk around the rivers and lakes, without one or two samples to lead your body, it is not enough.

Ling Xiang's martial arts are only good, and he can break through in the rivers and lakes, completely relying on dexterous light skills.

In fact, there are many women in the rivers and lakes who have traveled with light skills, with light bodies and soft tendons, and they can shuttle in large and small dangers.

It's just that this oncoming sword, no matter how superb Ling Xiang's light skills are, he can't dodge.

No matter how wide Ling Xiang's eyes were, she could only wait for her eyebrows to be pierced by the sword heart.

"Zheng".

The rushing sword was swept away.

The person who received the sword flew upside down because of the strength of the man's sword, and if he hadn't held it with both hands, he would have spurted blood.

He hugged Mu Yurong in his arms and said.

"It's not hurt. ”

Mu Yurong shook her head, but she was a little aggrieved, her eyes were red, and she muttered.

"It's just a wrist pain. ”

I don't know if it's pitiful, he touched Mu Yurong's head, and then got up, the cold glow between his eyes was like a match, and it was revealed.

He didn't move forward, for the air between him and the man with the sword had frozen.

Ling Xiang withdrew from the haze of death, ran to his side, and stuck to his arms, as if only entangled with him had she let down her guard.

The men were jealous and angry.

Only Wang Liang was still a little sober and was still paying attention to his hands.

He wrapped one hand around Ling Xiang's waist, but the other hand was already behind him.

There's a small wooden box behind you, and there's one in the box?

The sound of rain outside the house was still there.

The light of dawn, though obscured by cascading clouds, also crept through.

There was just a beam of light, concentrating on the face of the man with the sword.

The nose is hooked, and a scar is shimmering in the light.

This man is not gregarious, as can be seen from his willingness to sit alone.

This man's name is Jindong.

Forty-three years old.

A native of Yucheng.

The first master of the "Sword School".

If it weren't for the fact that his heart was not as good as his senior brother, the head of the "Sword Sect" should have belonged.

Since losing in the battle for the head, although he has not defected, he has not often been in the faction, and he entered the rivers and lakes at the age of thirty, and he has made a lot of names with a Qingquan sword in his hand. At the age of thirty-seven, he had a wish to pick off the sword god, so he retreated for three years and asked to fight in Jieling Feng. On that day, the masters of kendo gathered, and even Meng Qingyi, whom you know, was among them. Thirty moves ago, with a strange move, he really suppressed the sword god, but after thirty moves, he was slashed by the sword god's sword "as deep as a deep" nose. Since then, he has been wandering in the rivers and lakes.

When Wang Liang found Jindong, Jindong was like a dead dog, silent, unmoving, sinking in the yellow mud.

Three years have passed since the Battle of Jieling Peak, and Jindong has not escaped from drunken dreams and death for three years.

Wang Liang said.

"You still have a time to turn over. ”

Jindong in the mud only had silence in his eyes, and his ashes were hazy.

Wang Liang continued.

"As long as you can catch it, you can get back on your head in the rivers and lakes. ”

Jindong didn't have much sense.

In the dark, he clenched his fists.

It was this clenched fist that Wang Liang saw in his eyes and asked Wang Liang to continue.

"In any case, against the 'lifeless gun', you need Uncle Shi. ”

For a long time, no one talked about "need" in Jindong's ear.

Jindong in the mud quietly moved, and began to support his body with his arms, yellow and black mud dripping from his face, Jindong was like a beast that finally showed its teeth, opening its body like a bow, roaring wantonly.

Jindong shaved off his long beard that had not been shaved for three years, but there was still some stubble that could not be rooted.

As we were leaving, it suddenly rained from the sky.

Jindong wore a hat on his head, a robe, a freshly cast sword at his waist, and led a gray-black horse, waiting at the entrance out of the city.

Years of displacement have already made Jindong's voice dumb.

Jindong said in an astringent voice.

"Let's go, let's go get people alive. ”