"That's all I had with Li Baoxiong. "The light in the room was so dim that they could barely see each other from the other side, but no one came in to take the lamp.

"Defeated the three of them in three different ways, although there is no direct evidence to suggest it, but according to my judgment, he should be a cultivator. Wu Qiannuo gently put down the wine bottle in his hand without making a sound.

Hao Dashu's brows furrowed even tighter, and the wrinkles were as deep as the mottled skin of the old trees in the courtyard. He had always trusted Mr. Wu, so he trusted Mr. Wu's judgment, which was the last thing he wanted to hear, but it had to be accepted.

There are nine grades of martial arts practitioners in the world, and among them, there is an almost insurmountable gap. Those below the sixth rank are called martial arts, and those above the sixth rank are considered practitioners. Ordinary martial arts people, no matter how talented they are, reaching the peak of the five grades is the limit, but it is almost impossible to cross that chasm.

The conditions for cultivation are extremely harsh, so practitioners in the world are extremely rare. Moreover, except for a few great generals of the current dynasty, ordinary cultivators rarely get involved in worldly affairs.

Therefore, cultivators, for ordinary martial arts masters, have a crushing advantage. Of course, history is not without examples of martial arts masters at the peak of the five grades beating cultivators who have just stepped into the threshold, but those are some extreme cases, and they cannot be theorized as usual.

Therefore, for Hao Dashu, whose realm is only the upper part of the three grades, provoking a cultivator is tantamount to asking for his own death.

When the dart was lost, dozens of brothers in the dart game were wiped out almost instantly, and Hao Dashu recalled that scene afterwards, often suspecting that there were cultivators among the robbers. So even though he had never seen a real cultivator, he could imagine how terrifying they were.

Hao Dashu still couldn't figure it out, a person like him could be a king and hegemon in a state city, but for a cultivator, it was almost an ant-like existence. So that question has been bothering him, why does such a person find himself? Hao Dashu felt a feeling of despair slowly rising in his heart.

There was also a key question, "Is he from that mountain?" Hao Dashu's voice trembled with an imperceptible tremor.

There is a legend in the world that there is a mountain peak, but the peak is unknown. On the mountain peaks live a group of sword-wielding immortals, who occasionally come to the world to reward good and punish evil.

Hao Dashu had also heard of this legend, but he knew that those people were not immortals, but some extremely high realm cultivators. As for how tall it was, it was not at all for him to know.

"Probably not, how can the gods high in the heavens pay attention to us earthly dust. Wu Qiannuo's face was still calm, but the corners of his mouth were filled with a wry smile, "If it's really the people on that mountain, then we really don't have to do anything." ”

Hao Dashu understood what Mr. Wu meant, if the immortals wanted to do something to mortals, mortals would have no other way out than to accept their fate. Now that Mr. Wu has ruled out that possibility, Hao Dashu still feels hopeless, but despair and despair are still different.

"As long as it weren't for the people from that mountain, we still had a lot to do. Even if that person was a cultivator and had a very powerful sword, he was just a person, and he was a young man. ”

............

Lao Han is a veteran army, and he also fought on the battlefield in his early years, because he was timid and afraid of death, although he failed to win military merits on the field, and mixed with an official and a half-position, he also left a remnant life and returned to Mengzhou City. After returning to his hometown, he got an errand in the city to guard the city gates. In such a snowy weather, there were few people in and out of the city gate, so Lao Han shrank in the hole of the city gate, occasionally poured a few sips of liquor to warm his body, and when the hour came, he left with the key.

It was already dusk, but the wind and snow were getting bigger and bigger, and the heavens and the earth were filled with endless white. At this moment, at the end of the official road leading from Mengzhou to the outside of the city, a very small black spot appeared. The black dot was constantly moving, and as the distance from Mengzhou City narrowed, it was gradually enlarged.

Lao Han had never seen such a person. In the weather of Lajiu, the man was actually wearing a black single coat, and in this continuous wind and snow, he didn't seem to feel cold at all. He didn't walk fast, but every step was steady, so much so that he left a series of deep black holes behind him. The man's figure was a little emaciated, and he couldn't see his eyebrows clearly because he was covered by the cloak with his robe, but Lao Han always felt that under the cloak it should be a young man's face.

The young man was carrying a long black package diagonally on his back, and with Old Han's experience, he could definitely see that it was a sword. Originally, such a strange young man with a sword on his back appeared at the gate of Mengzhou, and it was his duty to come forward and interrogate. Lao Han also thinks so. I could see that he was about to get up, but for some reason he shrunk his body tighter, and instead of looking at the young man, he grabbed the wine gourd in his hand and poured a few sips, scolding, "What the hell is the weather." ”

In such a snowy twilight, a black-clothed young man with a sword on his back walked into Mengzhou City under the eyes of Lao Han, the guard at the city gate.

............

Mengzhou City was a little silent in the dark, and few lights peeked through the houses along the street, but it couldn't illuminate any cold corners.

The two vermilion lacquer doors that are always closed on weekdays are suddenly open, but there is no light inside, and from a distance, it looks like a pitch-black mouth that selects people and devours.

The snow gradually lightened, but the wind did not stop, and the two pairs of huge lanterns hanging in front of the door swayed even more violently, as if they might fall to the ground at any moment.

The conversation in Hao's mansion has ended, Wu Qiannuo is not in the hall, and next to the wine stove that has gradually cooled down, only Hao Dashu is left. His face was a little pale, and he didn't know if it was because of the getting cold in the hall.

"Since you're here, let's come, although this heavy wind and snow is fierce, there will always be a time to stop. Every time after a snowstorm, the old tree in the courtyard will always stand there. Thinking of the old tree in the courtyard, Hao Dashu suddenly had a sad mood. Yes, the tree is an old tree, what about the man?

I don't know how long he sat silently, Hao Dashu suddenly raised his head and looked into the depths of the snowy night. There, a black-clothed boy with a long sword on his back appeared at the end of the long street from around the corner, leaving two lines of deep foot holes behind him.

............

The long street is actually not long, from the street to the end of the street is only a foot of the road, but it is the most prosperous street in Mengzhou City. Because Haofu is on this street, and it is the only household on this street. The shops along the street are all the Hao family's property, and when it is approaching at this moment, those merchants are naturally closed a long time ago.

For most ordinary people, such a snowy weather, a pot of old wine with ginger slices, a rough but slightly fat aunt, and a plate of hot kang head that is just right are all there is to life. No matter what is happening or going to happen outside, close the somewhat dilapidated wooden door, and these people will only live in their own lives, and no one can disturb them. This is the happiness of ordinary people.

So such a snowstorm, such a night, there will be no pedestrians on the road in Mengzhou City at all.

The same goes for Long Street.

Except for the two pairs of lanterns in front of Hao's Mansion that showed a dim red light in the wind and snow, there was no light in the entire long street.

The moon is dark and the wind is high and the night kills. There was no moon in the sky, but the snow on the ground reflected a cold light. Such a night may be suitable for murder, but it is definitely not suitable for assassination.

After receiving Mr. Wu's order, knowing that the person who was going to ambush tonight was a teenager, the dead soldiers raised by Hao Dashu were a little unimpressed. This little thing of killing people is also worth waiting for more than 20 good hands in this snowstorm for most of the night?

However, since he has to take dozens of taels of silver from others every month, even if he has any opinions, he can only abandon the little woman with fine skin and tender meat in the quilt and stay here blowing the cold wind. It's just that I kept cursing in my heart, this damn weather and the hellish Mr. Wu. And that damn boy, why didn't he come and be killed by me earlier?

They were all in a bit impatient, and the long arrows hanging from the bowstring glowed in the snowlight.

So when the boy walked into the long street, two rows of men in white with bows immediately appeared on the rooftops on both sides.

The ambush turned into an open kill.

............