The first thing Chu Tao saw was a portrait of a young man in the center. This person is dressed in scale armor, burly and majestic, holding a sword and a whip, and has the potential to swallow mountains and rivers. However, this person's appearance has an elegant and beautiful bearing, not like the roughness of ordinary martial artists. An indescribable calmness.

At the bottom of the portrait, there are engraved four oaths of the Feather Sword Sect: "Rise against the wind, roar if you are uneven, stand on the turbid waves, and die without regrets." There is no description of the person in the painting, but the two walls facing each other on the left and right seem to tell a story about the person. Those were four glittering murals.

On the upper left, the official road is dusty and sandy, and the soldiers and horses are majestic. Before he could remove his armor, he was already in mourning clothes. The white flags that conjure spirits dance in the wind, the soldiers leading the horses are behind, and the young men who greet each other are in front, bowing their hands.

Lower left, in front of the court, in front of the Wenchen in brocade clothes, holding bamboo slips, eyebrows flying, mouth like a river, everyone bowed their heads, only the young man smiled, full of grandeur.

On the right, the huge waves of the building boat, the rumbling of war drums, the rockets are like locusts, and the cold light of a sword in his hand is unshakably pointing to the opposite bank, and the camp on the opposite bank has already been blazing.

Lower right, castle tower chess wine, battle flag hunting. The slightly older man on the opposite side smiled dryly, and the young general had already unloaded his armor, dressed in brocade and jade, with slender fingers between black chess pieces, and the victory was in his hands. The two face each other, but just look at the expression, the victory and defeat have been divided.

"Who is it?" Qin Shi asked Ye Xiaosheng beside him.

Ye Xiaosheng smiled silently: "Master Chu has solved this mystery!"

Chu Tao smiled silently and looked at the portrait in the middle, as if looking at an old friend across time and space: "Maybe...... The string song knows the elegant meaning, and the glass of wine is a good friend...... Look at the flag hanging on the tower of the city, it is vaguely a Zhou character...... If the chant of the long river is related to him...... Or is this music his handiwork...... This song may really have the power to determine the world......" He turned around and explained intermittently, as if he was contemplating as he spoke, rather absent-mindedly.

"Cut!" Xie Junhe was confused, his back to them, unwilling to figure out the slightest bit. However, a muffled snort of pain suddenly sounded behind him. In a panic, he hurriedly turned around.

Chu Tao's face was as dead as ashes, the demeanor and charm of his eyes were scattered in an instant, and the smile he had always maintained had disappeared, but he was still trying his best to suppress the pain. He tried to stand still, but he couldn't. He fell to one knee as soon as his feet were weak, and a line of blood trickled down the corner of his mouth, dripping to the ground, mottled and mottled. Coldly, the corners of his mouth trembled slightly, and he pulled out a smile helplessly.

The old sheepskin was stained with blood and slipped from Chu Tao's hand. A hand snatched the parchment from his palm, and he was powerless to resist. Ye Xiaosheng was behind him, with a dark face, smiling low, holding a parchment roll in one hand, and a cold dagger in the other, full of blood. The robes were also stained crimson with blood splattered from the spills.

"Xiaosheng you!" Qin Shi shouted, but he couldn't stop anything.

Chu Tao tried his best to support his body, opened his lips slightly in the direction of Xie Junhe, and spit out two words with difficulty: "Be careful......" It seems that before he finished speaking, he has fallen silently. At the back of the waist, three blood holes were still oozing blood, and the purple robe and belt were soaked with blood. From beginning to end, he didn't even get a chance to shout out loud......

Ye Xiaosheng shook off the white handkerchief, wiped the blood on the dagger with an expressionless face, and threw it casually.

In the grotto, it seemed to be a little darker for a moment, and there was a yin wind slowly passing by, bringing a cold that penetrated deep into the bone marrow.