The night is like water, bleak and abnormal, the cool moonlight pours down, the whole mountain range is covered with a faint silver veil, and at the foot of the Shaomu Mountain, which is far away from the magnificent and ancient thousand-year-old treasure temple, it is extraordinarily quiet, there is no noise during the day, only the low roar of birds and beasts remains, and the Shaomuro Mountain is extraordinarily peaceful and calm.

His eyes were tightly locked on the sweeping monk, and seeing that the sweeping monk finally stopped denying it, Murong Fu's eyes showed a trace of satisfaction, turned around slightly, glanced at the big hole in the stone, and in the silence of the night, he shrugged his shoulders undeniably at the sweeping monk with a look of memory, but there were no words, after all, it was impossible for Murong Fu to directly tell the sweeping monk that he had inferred from his actions in the original book.

Therefore, Murong Fu could only answer the question, and said softly: "How should the kid call his senior?"

The sweeping monk dispersed the condensed fingers on his index finger and sighed: "Forget it, if you don't want to say it, then let it be!" You guessed it right, my surname is indeed Murong, and my name is "Speaking of this, I glanced at Murong Fu, and then said: "Murong Xin!"

"Murong Xin?!"

Murong Fu's complexion changed, his eyes stared at the sweeping monk with a withered face and wrinkles on his face as deep as a knife, his eyes flashed with shock and surprise, although Murong Fu had extremely high self-control at this moment, but at this moment, he was still a little panicked in the face of this sudden answer, because he never thought that the name of the sweeping monk turned out to be Murong Xin.

"Senior, you... You said your name, Murong Xin?" Murong Fu also looked at the words that suddenly came out of the mouth of the sweeping monk with some disbelief, although he couldn't believe it, but the sweeping monk's expression told him that his name was really Murong Xin, yes, Murong Fu took a deep breath, and then suppressed the surprise in his heart.

He had thought that the sweeping monk would be a disciple of his Murong clan, but when he heard this name at this moment, he was indeed extremely surprised!

"Emperor Taizu Wenming Murong Hao, Emperor Jingzhao Murong Jun, Emperor Youdi Murong Wei, Emperor Wucheng Murong Chui, Emperor Hui Emperor Murong Bao, Kaifeng Gong Murong Shen, King Zhao Murong Lin, Zhongzong Zhaowu Emperor Murong Sheng, Zhaowen Emperor Murong Xi," the sweeping monk seemed to see the surprise in Murong Fu's eyes, and he didn't care, but he told the ancestors of the Murong clan one by one in one breath, in order to dispel Murong Fu's doubts.

Then he talked about the members of the modern Murong clan, and then there was a slight unnaturalness in his tone: "Father Murong Longcheng, son Murong Bo!"

Hearing the sweeping monk's sudden words, Murong Fu's body trembled violently, and the blood veins circulating in his body suddenly fluctuated strangely, why did he lose his temper before, it was because of this name, revealing an extremely familiar feeling.

That's right, Murong Xin is the father of Murong Bo, the head of the Gusu Murong clan in the previous generation, which is why Murong Fu was so surprised.

In other words, the identity of the sweeping monk is Murong Fu's grandfather, but Murong Xin died when Murong Bo was a teenager, because although Murong Fu thought that the sweeping monk might be Murong Bo's father, he immediately vetoed it, so Murong Fu was so surprised when he suddenly heard that the sweeping monk said that he was Murong Xin!

After a long time, Murong Fu held back the surprise in his heart, and smiled, there was no longer the slightest doubt in his heart.

Since the sweeping monk was untied by Murong Fu, the surname Suo was not evading, and slowly came to Murong Fu, his eyes stayed on Murong Fu's body, and he said softly: "You are very good, really good, much better than my irresponsible grandfather." If you listen carefully, you will find that there is a trace of relief and relief in the voice of the sweeping monk.

Looking at the slightly thin old figure in front of him, Murong Fu was also silent, indeed, the sweeping monk faked his death when Murong Bo was a teenager, this point, how similar is Murong Bo's practice and the sweeping monk?

Both of them have climbed step by step from immature teenagers who lost their fathers in their early years to the point where they have now reached the top of the rivers and lakes, and that difficult road is not enough for outsiders, whether it is Murong Bo or Murong Fu, they always rely on themselves.

The Gusu Murong clan, which was once prominent and powerful in the world, except for leaving them a copy of the name of Nan Murong who must be guarded with their lives, has never left him anything precious, so that the warmth of family affection is also something out of reach for them.

Murong Fu has experienced this kind of sorrow, so he also understands very well how much hardship and effort he has put in over the years, ordinary people can only see Nan Murong's extraordinary achievements that have been passed down from generation to generation, but they have forgotten how much bitterness and suffering he has experienced under that dazzling achievement.

Although Murong Bo was addicted to the dream of reviving Dayan, it was undeniable that he really oppressed himself to the extreme, and even in order to revive Dayan, he did not hesitate to fight with his life, asking Xiao Feng to send troops to provoke the dispute between Liao and Song, this paranoia is no worse than the previous Murong Fu, and the most sorry person for sweeping monks should be Murong Bo.

The sweeping monk's cloudy eyes, staring at the brightly lit temples in the distance, silent, and didn't know what he was thinking, after a long time, the sweeping monk turned around and looked at Murong Fu, who didn't know how many winds and frosts he had experienced, extremely withered and old palms, gently patted Murong Fu's head, and whispered Murong Fu's name and said: "Your name is Murong Fu, Fu, haha, Murong Fu"

The old figure with a hoarse voice was more like a repentant old man at the moment, and after a while, the sweeping monk finally came back to his senses, raised his head, and took a deep breath: "Bo'er, before you died, did you resent me?"

Murong Fu was stunned when he heard the words of the sweeping monk, and then reacted, thinking about it carefully, at Murong Bo's age, it should be regarded as the year of knowing the destiny of heaven, the news of Murong Bo's fake death is only known to Murong Fu, although the sweeping monk knows that Murong Bo has been wandering in the Tibetan Scripture Pavilion for decades, but Murong Bo has never exposed his family tradition, and the sweeping monk will naturally not find out Murong Bo's identity, after all, when the sweeping monk left, Murong Bo was only a teenager, and when Murong Bo hid in the Tibetan Scripture Pavilion, he was already middle-aged, no matter how he was in shape, his bearing was completely different, so naturally he would not know that the man in black was Murong Bo。

Thinking of this, Murong Fu suddenly fell silent, he didn't know how to explain, after a long time, Murong Fu spoke slowly, his voice was calm: "Actually, he didn't die, but for some reason, he had to fake his death!"

The sweeping monk was obviously taken aback, Huo Di raised his head, and said, "Not dead?" It is impossible, the abbot of Shaolin Xuanci personally sent someone to mourn, is it possible?" Obviously, the sweeping monk also thought of something, and then asked: "What about him? Where is he now?"

Murong Fu also wanted to know how Murong Bo was doing now, but unfortunately, he still never found any trace of Murong Bo, and the news of Yu Yan and Ah Bi was even more clueless, so how could Murong Fu inform the sweeping monk? At the moment, he could only shake his head and say: "I don't know where he is, in fact, I want to find him more than anyone else!"

Hearing this, the sweeping monk slowly raised his head, looked at the sky, and suddenly turned to Murong Fu, his voice hoarse and low: "Child, I'm sorry, I owe Murong too much, I owe Bo'er too much"

Murong Fu looked at the sweeping monk with an extremely complicated face, he could understand the mood of the sweeping monk, there was guilt for Murong Bo, and guilt for Murong Fu, but Murong Fu never understood why the sweeping monk also chose to fake his death in the first place, and it could also make Murong Bo's mother unable to find out, and even kept hiding in the Shaolin faction, countless doubts disturbed Murong Fu, so that Murong Fu had to speak.

"Ancestral ...... Why did you fake your death in the first place? And why did you stay in this Shaolin faction? All this, this" Grandfather was halfway through the word, but Murong Fu stopped suddenly, maybe he always didn't want to call it that way because of Murong Fu's reasons!

Hearing Murong Fu's words, the sweeping monk's face was a little complicated, and then he sighed heavily: "I think, you should have a lot of doubts, right? Come with me, this day is still here after all, and there are some things that can't be escaped!"

Hearing this, Murong Fu also felt a trace of excitement in his heart, because he knew that these sudden and many doubts could finally be solved!