"Yes. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info”

After Feng Yang finished speaking, the first step had already been taken out, and the breath on his body became different, if it turned out that he still had the meaning of a hippie smile, at this time, the whole body was so serious that there was only starlight in his eyes.

This time, the speed of the wind was much faster, and the light and shadow in the air were connected, and when the shadow closest to the two was still in the middle of the ring, a strong wind was already blowing in his face.

Qingshan's face changed greatly, he raised his hand to block, the knife in his hand was just raised, but his expression became complicated, and finally sighed, gently put the knife down, and said, "I'm not wrong." ”

"Really?" Feng Yiyang's voice was flat and undisturbed, but the sound of the wind was coming from behind Qingshan, and Feng Yiyang didn't know when, he was already standing behind him.

"I did my best for the Fusang country, risking my life to violate the rules of the ring to fight you, not for personal gain, everything I did was for the sake of my Fusang country, what was wrong with me? Why did you kill me?" Aoyama became excited.

"It's none of my business if you're wrong, it's none of my business how Fusang Kingdom is, I killed you just because you broke the rules, in other words, you deserve to die. ”

After Feng Yiyang finished speaking, he turned around calmly, reached out and gently took the strange long knife with black stripes from Qingshan's hand, and walked back to the center of the ring indifferently, standing with his sword eyebrows slightly wrinkled, facing the high platform

Behind him, the big warrior named Aoyama seemed to tremble slightly, and then his body shook and fell to the ground with a bang.

Miyamoto Lanyi, who had been watching all this in a daze, reacted at this time, rushed to Aoyama's side to support him and asked nervously, "Aoyama-kun, what's wrong with you?"

Aoyama was lying on the ground, his face was pale and distorted, his breathing was sickly short, and when he heard Miyamoto Lanyi's question, he smiled and said, "It's okay, I ......"

Before I could say a word, a large piece of blood gushed out of my mouth, Qingshan hurriedly reached out to cover it, how could he cover it, the blood kept spilling out of his fingers, staining his palms red, dripping on the ground, and gathering together.

Miyamoto Ranyi squatted there helplessly supporting Aoyama, the hem of his white samurai robe spread on the ground, and the blood slowly spread, leaning on it and dyeing it red.

Aoyama's clothes were torn open, and a thin wound could be seen on his strong lower abdomen, spitting blood out one by one.

Such a thin wound is not something that an ordinary sword can do. Miyamoto Ranyi's tears flowed uncontrollably from his eyes.

Aoyama's eyes, I don't know when they have been closed, he didn't even have time to say a decent word, looking at his previous reaction, maybe he still liked this young lady, but at the moment none of this mattered.

Miyamoto Lanyi turned his head suddenly, staring at the wind, tears were still falling, tears rolled across his face, still hot, but his voice became cold and resentful: "You obviously don't have to kill him, why did you kill him?"

I only said it once, but in the silence, it was tantamount to torture over and over again.

The wind was silent, and he stood in the middle of the ring with a black knife in his hand, his face sinking like water.

It's obviously not dusk, but the back of the wind is a little lonely in the daylight.

It's not autumn, but the air is inexplicably filled with the smell of bleakness.

Miyamoto Lanyi gritted his teeth and wiped his face with his sleeves, wiped away his tears, carried the eight-foot-tall Aoyama on his shoulders, and slowly stood up.

The loose robe was stained with blood, casually skimmed to the side, faintly revealing her slender waist, and people couldn't help but worry about whether such a large body would crush her waist.

Miyamoto Ranyi didn't say a word more, she didn't even open her mouth to ask for the family's holy knife, and she didn't beg anyone to save this man she had a good impression of.

Aoyama's death seems to have made Miyamoto Lanyi understand a lot in an instant, these people are a gang, no one will help her, that kind of wound is clearly a dead hand, no one can save it, a knife, that kind of knife, no one will let go if it is replaced, right?

Miyamoto Ranyi carried Aoyama's corpse on his back, walked off the ring step by step, and then left, like a stubborn child.

As soon as the wind blows, he looks thoughtfully at the back of Miyamoto Ranyi, and the cheers and applause that burst out around him seem to be separated by a world.

Is it right or wrong?

Is there a right or wrong?

What should I draw my sword for, and what I said is really what I have in mind?

Does he really deserve to die?

Can I really not kill him?

One by one, questions poured into Feng Yiyang's mind.

In a daze, in addition to cheering, Feng Yiyang seemed to hear the unique loud voice of His Majesty the Emperor, and the emperor seemed to have officially named him a sword immortal, what kind of official is a sword immortal?

It's a new problem again. The wind blew and scratched his head with some annoyance.

The eyelashes were also soaked with sweat, and the vision in front of them was blurred.

one-step

Two steps.

Sweat also soaked his underwear, and his whole body was wet, and Miyamoto Ranyi carried the green mountains on his back, and the strange wine flag seemed to flutter in front of him.

Is the inn almost there?

Walked more than ten steps.

Miyamoto Ranyi stared at the wine banner and the flagpole that were still fluttering not far away, and took two more steps, his body was weak, his shoulders were light, and then his body seemed to fall into a ball of soft cotton.

It's like a warm embrace.

In a daze, Miyamoto Lanyi saw a handsome but somewhat bewitching face, and the two black lines at the corners of the eyes on the pale face were particularly distinct.

Rare, a look of care.

Miyamoto Ranyi's tears, which had been wiped dry, couldn't stop pouring out, opened his mouth, and shouted indistinctly, "Brother." Then he fainted in tears.

Miyamoto Yuichi stretched out his hand to hold Miyamoto Lanyi's wrist, carefully took the pulse, breathed a sigh of relief, and turned his face to look at the green mountains that had dried up blood and were covered in iron, Miyamoto Yuichi's two eyebrows were raised, and his already pale face turned a little whiter.

The darkness is receding, and the pain that should have been in more than ten years of life seems to have happened on this day, and everything in the ring is put over and over again like a marquee.

Miyamoto knew that it was a dream, but this dream was like it couldn't be finished, and every time it was about to end, it would turn back and start again.

Miyamoto ranyi cried out, woke up from her dream, sat up suddenly, and opened her eyes.

The dim light, the delicately carved wooden bed, and the soft blue quilt were in that strangely named inn? Miyamoto Ranyi gently rubbed his forehead with his fingers, trying to drive away the desperate emotions in the dream just now.

"Do you like him?"

The abrupt question startled Miyamoto Ranyi, who instinctively shrank back, only to see the figure sitting at the window, and called out in a low voice: "Brother, did you bring me back?"

Outside the window, the sky was already dark, although it was not completely dark, and from this angle, only a dark blue sky could be seen.

Is it already evening?

Miyamoto sat on the edge of the window, as if he hadn't heard the stupid question, and looked out of the window at the street with great interest, as if there was something very interesting there, although there were only a few pedestrians and a bluestone pavement that had not changed for a hundred years.

Miyamoto Lanyi just wanted to speak, but heard his brother ask reluctantly, "Do you like him?"