A crisp sound of gold and iron stirred sound, blowing out the twenty-four fire candles on the wall.

The light in the hall dimmed by half in an instant.

Although the light was dim, it was still faintly visible, and there was a white dress fluttering, standing in front of the golden throne.

His body leaned forward slightly, the cold light in his hand slashed on the pitch-black staff, and his face was as happy and angry as usual.

In front of him, the long-haired man with red makeup was sitting on his side, holding the golden throne in his left hand and the pitch-black staff in his right hand, resisting a sword in white clothes, with a carefree posture.

If someone else looked at this scene from afar, they would probably exclaim, 'Immortals are good at kung fu!', thinking that this long-haired man could catch the menacing sword of Bai Yi with such an easy attitude, it must be the unfathomable realm of Qimen, and he would already have the upper hand in this duel—but if he got closer, he could clearly see the tightly locked brows and bloodshot corners of the long-haired man's face.

Although the posture is carefree, but this carefree is not because he intended it to be like this - it's just that the sword in white clothes was too sudden, and the man didn't expect this hand at all, and he didn't have time to straighten the body that was originally lying on the throne on his side, so he had to make a hasty move, and suddenly carried all the breath in his body, and barely resisted the sword in white clothes.

Yes, it's just a 'resist' that is left and right, not a 'take' that is easy to handle.

The long-haired man with his elbows trembling slightly stretched out the tip of his tongue, licked the bloodshot corners of his mouth, and smiled at the white-clothed yin in front of him: "What's the matter?"

Bai Yi didn't answer, his face was still expressionless—but the iron sword in his hand was a little heavier.

With a crisp sound, a crack cracked in the throne beneath the man.

He turned his face slightly, looking at the crack, but the corners of his mouth were slightly raised by half a point.

I saw that his left palm propped up on the throne first suddenly arched, and then slammed down, and it actually split the golden seat in half with a 'snap-'.

The seat that had been split in half suddenly collapsed, and the man on it naturally fell with it—the speed of its fall was half an instant faster than the speed of the cold light in the white hand.

And half an instant was enough for him to turn things around.

The long-haired man raised his lips and sneered, and his right arm, which was holding the pitch-black staff, quickly pulled sideways.

The scabbard fell.

A blinding white glow appeared in his hand.

The white cloth stared at him suddenly, pointed his sword forward, and his figure immediately swept back to ten steps away.

In just a moment, I saw that the white light shot out of the air like a flying arrow, and it actually directly penetrated the dome of the main hall, flew to a height of 100 zhang, and then gradually dissipated into nothingness.

A bright beam of morning sun shone through the hole in the dome and reflected on the long-haired man who slowly stood up.

The dust cleared, and the afterwind blew. The green silk robe flutters, the well-proportioned and compact body looming, coupled with the light smile on the face, is obviously the appearance of a carefree immortal in a market novel.

But Bai Yi didn't pay attention to this.

His gaze had not been taken away from the man's right hand since the moment he had flipped back.

In the man's right hand, he held a sword.

A thin straight sword with a body as white as ice, and layers of faint light on it.

Its name......

"[Qinghe]. ”

The Immortal Squinted at Bai Yi's surprised look, raised his lips and smiled, "Pingshui Baiyi, have you ever heard of this sword name?"

Wang Manxiu frowned slightly, but there was no echo.

He knew the sword.

According to legend, when the True Dragon Dynasty was at its peak, there was an immortal craftsman named 'Zhan Yezi', who should be the Son of Heaven of the True Dragon, and forged seven famous swords for three years in the world and seven days in the heavenly court, a total of ten years. Needless to say, these seven swords are sharpened like clay, but because they have entered the heavenly court and absorbed the spiritual energy of the heavens, they are more subtle and a grade higher than the human sword of the sword of the spirit stone and secret jade. The words of praise such as 'the sword moves with the heart' and 'the sword dances like a god' are merely a statement of facts.

Bai Yi looked at the 'immortal' in front of him and hooked his fingers, harnessed back the pitch-black scabbard that had been thrown on the ground before, and slowly sent the thin straight sword back into it, making it look like an ordinary staff again.

This sword, if the ancient book he reads is not spoken, should be the plain sword [Qinghe] of the seven swords. It is said that this sword was cast in the spring, the crops in the fields were still green, and it was not yet the harvest season - how did this true dragon emperor get the new sword and couldn't wait, and waved it lightly, and it was a direct sword to cut all the rice fields in the south of the Yangtze River.

That year, there was no harvest in the entire Jiangnan region, and several major granaries of Zhenlong were half empty.

This sword also got the name [Qinghe]. I don't know the name, it was the real dragon Tianzi, or the ordinary people who returned to the gods and their crops were gone.

Qinghe sword, if it doesn't come out, it will cut off the way of life for all the people in the world.

The white clothes raised their eyes and looked at the carefree immortal ten steps away. The latter has already put his sword into the sheath, with one hand on his waist and the other hand holding the staff and patting his shoulder, which is completely a leisurely appearance.

Wang Manxiu took a light breath and lifted the iron sword in his hand.

Qinghe sword, if you don't come out, it's enough.

Then you won't be out.

The white-clothed figure is fleeting.

The carefree immortal raised his lips coldly, and the majestic breath suddenly exploded from the thin cloth robe on his body.

His figure is also fleeting.

In an instant, I heard a loud noise, and another surging wave of air blew out the remaining 24 candles on the wall.

The moment the two swords clashed, one white and one black, the floor of the main hall suddenly cracked like a lake that had fallen on a rock, and several circles of ripples were cracked.

The place where the two clashed, five steps away from the place where the two had stood before, was the center.

"Heh, do you really think I can't take your sword?" The Xiaoyao Immortal smiled yin, this time the sword in his hand not only did not tremble, but also took another half step forward, and pressed the iron sword in the hand of the white cloth with Qinghe, and said: "Hehe, Pingshui Baiyi." I'm going to let you learn and help your family today—"

Suddenly, I heard the soft whistling of the bamboo flute.

The immortal was slightly stunned.

But I saw a little blue that was already close at hand.

The immortal suddenly came back to his senses, and immediately realized that this blue mang was a flying sword that suddenly came out of Bai Yi's arms, so he immediately clenched his left hand into a fist, and wanted to hammer one of the fists to the ground.

It's just that this blue mang is much more agile than the ordinary flying sword - seeing that the front portal of the immortal is locked, it suddenly changed its trajectory, and it flew up into the air and swept an arc, detoured behind the immortal, and stabbed at the back of his neck.

But immortals are immortals after all, and it is not surprising that they have long eyes on the back of their heads.

Just as the Hanyu dagger was only a fraction of a centimeter away from the back of his neck, the long-haired man didn't look back, and directly swung his left fist and hit his backhand behind him, hitting the bull's-eye without missing a beat.

Although this punch was a backhand, the force should not be large, but the cold jade dagger still trembled in the air, and it was completely difficult to get close for a while.

Unexpectedly, this flying sword, which seemed to be supposed to be a fatal blow, was actually just a false flicker—at the moment when the immortal punched behind him, the expressionless white cloth was already holding his left hand and quickly hitting his heart.

This carefree immortal is not a heavenly immortal after all, and he can't conjure three heads and six arms, so he is also lacking in skills, so he has to dodge and retreat - but he did dodge, but he did not retreat.

I saw that the long-haired man first took a step back, then rotated his body counterclockwise, completed a circle of rotation while dodging this palm, flashed to the left side of the white cloth, and then immediately swung his sword at his waist and handed another sword. In this way, the original dodge retreat was connected with a sudden killing move, and in an instant it changed from passive defense to defensive counterattack.

And this white dress is not simple.

He didn't directly swing his sword to take the Immortal Sword head-on—not because he didn't have the confidence to take it, but even if he did, it was just a return to the confrontation between the two of them before. Therefore, the white clothes also spun their bodies.

It's just that his maneuver is clockwise.

In this way, when he finishes spinning around and swings the sword in his hand, his sword path will coincide with the sword path of the immortal, and because his attack is half a moment slower, his sword will not collide with the immortal sword, but directly suppress it, and use his strength to disintegrate the sword momentum of the immortal - if he is lucky, he can even directly beat the immortal sword to the flying hand.

Listening to the sound of 'dang-', he didn't expect the long-haired man in the white hand to show a different color, and wanted to swing Qinghe in reverse immediately, but it was half a beat slower, and the sword momentum had been completely destroyed.

Bai Yi saw the opportunity, and immediately sent out his left palm and hit him in the heart.

The immortal coughed violently, and his body flew directly out for several feet, and slammed into a python cylinder, knocking the python's tail down.

But before he could take a breath of fresh air, the haunting cold jade flying sword suddenly flew and stabbed directly at the center of his eyebrows.

The long-haired man stared straight in the eye and immediately turned his head sideways.

The flying sword was nailed into the granite-carved column, cracking several cracks, like a spider web, that was about to touch the root of the man's ear.

A wave has not settled, and another wave has risen.

The flying sword has just arrived for a moment and a half, and the white clothes holding the sword have also arrived.

The Xiaoyao Immortal immediately shouted, and he didn't care if he would hurt his dantian if he did this, so he took a quick breath, and immediately his eyes flashed with golden light, and a strange body method quickly flashed out of this dead end.

Looking back, the iron sword in Baiyi's hand was three and a half inches, and the pillar was three inches long.

A chilling murderous aura came to his face.

The immortal sneered, facing the white clothes, holding Qinghe horizontally with both hands, holding the handle in one hand and the wooden sheath in the other, and gently tugged to let the sword body out of the sheath by an inch.

There was a gray and white aura that was one foot wide and slashed at the waist of the white cloth.

Wang Manxiu immediately retracted the dagger, raised his sword and swept back, dodging the sword qi.

It's a pity that the towering column was cut off by this sword qi, and it collapsed violently, shattering into an unknown number of pieces, raising up dust and sand in the sky.