Red Leaf City is on the east-west official road leading to Pansi City.

A muscular giant galloping wildly ahead, panting and talking to someone.

The way the two have a very special conversation, which can be described as a mixture of thousands of miles of sound and secret sound.

The man was lying in the corner of a tavern, with a scruffy beard, a decadent temperament, full of the smell of wine, with a large wine gourd on his head and a green bamboo pole at his feet.

No one noticed him, and even the keeper of the tavern was worried about what would happen to the unpaid wine money if he died drunk.

Even the kindest little girl wouldn't look at him more and ask him if he was safe.

The businessmen who pass by are educating the juniors around them, and if they are not good at studying, they will end up like this in the future.

And the people in the rivers and lakes who pass by, no one will think that this person is a master who is hidden in the world.

Yes, he is nothing more than a wanderer, who has abandoned his name.

He was like the most humble beggar in the world, the most unproductive drunkard, who finally begged for some money, but changed it all into soju and poured it into his stomach to buy drunk.

Only on the large wine gourd, there are two crooked words faintly engraved, but they have long been submerged by the oil stains of the wine.

If you distinguish carefully, you can faintly see that those two words are "worry-free", which seems to remind something.

He had forgotten how long he had lived, it seemed like five or six hundred years, or seven or eight hundred years.

The last time she was picked up, that person seemed to be a little maid of the Xia family, and she insisted that she was her long-lost brother.

He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had encountered such a thing.

But that's fine, at least the money for the wine has been settled.

He never liked to use the power he had to get money and get drunk, which made him feel like a living person.

At this moment, a rapid and irritable voice sounded in his head.

"Don't worry, this body you found me... What a monster!"

The drunkard yawned, and a secret voice came back: "Murong Han, I said try again, and you can't wait to take it." In the martial arts conference in Xiangyang City, so many young heroes are not at your disposal, you have to ask him, who can blame him?"

"Compared to him, it's all rubbish. This kid... The internal force is at least fifteen hundred years! fifteen hundred years! Can you figure it out?"

"Well, I don't understand. The drunkard's eyes became more and more worried, "Do you have anything else to say? ”

"Wait!"

"What's wrong again?"

Zizizi...

As if disturbed by noise, the two suddenly stopped talking.

Carefree opened his eyes in his dream again, this time he was a disciple who had gone south to Xiangyang with some elder of the Qingcheng Sword Sect.

Because of the retreat, this elder had just traveled to Xiyang at this time.

But he insisted that he must not be absent from the battle of Xiangyang City to meet the catastrophe this time, otherwise it would be difficult to achieve great things.

"Wang Sui, how many times has Master told you, the essence of our Qingcheng Sword Sect exercises lies in the deep and quiet, what about you? I blindly search for some strange methods such as killing with one blow every day, such exercises are all evil demons and foreign ways, and they cannot last long! For example, this type of white cloud enters the deep valley, and it should be slowly used like this..."

The handsome man in the green shirt pinched a sword trick, and the sword dance was quite imposing.

"Oh?" Wang Sui had just opened his cloudy eyes, and he seemed to be smiling.

The yellow-clothed girl dressed as a woman on the side suddenly grabbed the arm of an old man and said coquettishly: "Master, you are eccentric, senior brother already has one-tenth of your appearance." ”

The old man laughed, stroked his white beard a little proudly, and said: "The sword is a way, the first is to nourish the heart, the heart is far away and the intention is self-growing, the essence of our Qingcheng Sword Sect's practice lies in a ghostly word." ”

"That's it—" He became proud, and suddenly his long sword came out of its sheath, and between the long sleeves dancing, it was like a white cloud, and it was very graceful.

The sword is unsheathed.

He said lightly: "This style is the white clouds entering the valley." You guys... Feel it yourself, and ask if you don't understand it. ”

"Then if—" Wang Sui just spoke.

A tall man beside him applauded and praised: "Master is good at swordsmanship! The disciples don't know how many years they need to work hard before they can have the slightest bit of Master's demeanor!"

The short young man on the side hurriedly said: "When Master just drew his sword, I suddenly felt as if I was in a cloud, and I didn't wake up until Master unsheathed it. This sword is really like the sword of an immortal, amazing!"

The more the old man listened, the happier he became, stroking his white beard from time to time, occasionally inserting a few words, and nodding his disciples.

The young man named Wang Sui was left out in the cold, and he didn't care, carrying a simple long sword, and walked at the end of the line.

Suddenly, someone patted him on the shoulder and said loudly: "Wang Sui, Master is lecturing, why are you not enthusiastic at all, are you still thinking about your strange swordsmanship?"

The crowd in front did not look back, but a few turned around to show either sarcasm or ridicule.

"Hurry up, go forward, and get a touch of Master's immortal energy! Listening to Master's words, it's better than burying your head in penance for a month!"

The man laughed, but ignored him and ran forward.

The group walked forward in this cheerful atmosphere.

But Wang Sui stopped, his eyes flashed with a strange color, "It's almost there!"

In the distance, thunder rolled in, like a catastrophe that destroyed the world.

The two figures chased each other one after the other, and everywhere they went, the sky was torn apart, and the ground shook.

The laughter in front of him also stopped, but the old man pretended to be calm and said, "Disciples, they are going from east to west, let's take refuge in the forest in the south for a while, and then continue on our way." This should be a battle between grandmasters, and the master doesn't want to get involved in it, so as not to hurt the harmony!"

"Wang Sui, why are you standing stupidly?"

"You're scared, aren't you?"

"Oh, what do you want to do if you want to draw your sword? Master said that the person who came here is the grandmaster, doesn't he know?"

The taunted boy ignored the people around him.

He squatted slightly, his head slightly sideways, the five fingers of his right hand cocked, and his palm pressed heavily against the ordinary hilt of the sword, like a sculpture, falling into some strange silence.

"Hey, what's the brain? What kind of weird posture is this?" the yellow-clothed girl giggled as she held the old man's arm.

And at this moment, the thunder on the horizon was already overhead.

The sword of the taunted boy was also unsheathed in an instant, and the blood mist on his right hand dispersed like a red plum, but the sword out of the sheath was like a shocking cloud!

The sword roared like a silver dragon into the air, like a thunderbolt that couldn't contain the rage, and rolled towards the young man chasing after it in mid-air.

His sword does not have any fancy, and no matter what remote artistic conception, this sword kills for the sake of killing, extremely fast and extremely ruthless!

This sword is obviously a white cloud entering the valley, but why can it be made like this?

And it seems... Better than Master... How is this possible?

The same thought suddenly flashed through the minds of the disciples.

And at this moment, the young man whose figure was forced to pause smashed out with an angry punch, and the dim cyclone surged down with the entangled purple electric snake.

Rumble!

Before the elders of the Qingcheng Sword Sect could draw their swords, they had already turned into blood mist again.

In the distance, the sound of horses' hooves could be heard.

Like a ghost, the black-robed girl dragged the red blood for a long time, running in the twilight that had entered the netherworld.

In the corner of the remote tavern, the scruffy and decadent drunkard seemed to have a nightmare and suddenly woke up.

The shopkeeper was overjoyed, and thought that the drunkard was finally leaving, and was about to urge Xiao Er to get rid of him.

The drunkard threw up his head and poured another big sip of wine, laughed, and slapped a grain of silver on the table where the wine flowed, and then continued to lie down, muttering, "Ask the world..."

Xiao Er picked up the silver and listened curiously.

But the drunkard's words became more and more indistinct, and soon turned into a cry for sleep.

Xiao Er sneered, bit the silver, and after confirming that it was true, he turned around and left, and went to get the wine again.