"So. So, you're not a man. ”

Mo Xiaohe followed a group of people in Guilin Mountain to learn badly, even if the motive was clearly seen, his face was not red or panting, and his mouth was hard, "You know it yourself, I will lose if I strike first and then shoot.. However, I scolded the dog's blood, and I still didn't dare to make a move. ”

"He also boasted that he was a master, which is ridiculous. ”

Mo Xiaohe lifted his bangs in the wind, took out a pot of wine, and laughed proudly in the spring breeze, "But it's okay, so that Lao Tzu can scold you at will, and you don't dare to fight... Anyway, Lao Tzu has a good life, someone raises him, he is not short of money, and he is still young, and some are idle workers. ”

"I woke up and scolded you a few words, I came over to scold you a few words before I went to bed, scolded you a few words when I was in a good mood, and scolded you a few words when I was in a bad mood. ”

After taking a big gulp, Mo Xiaohe stood up and shouted at the laborers, bosses, and deacons under the mountain, "Have you seen it, Lao Tzu is the emperor of Guilin, and the emperor of Guilin is awesome!"

"Lao Tzu stood alone on the territory of the hundred-mile spiritual vein, beckoning all the eighteenth generations of ancestors of the three major forces, but none of them dared to touch a single hair of Lao Tzu. ”

"After talking about Lao Tzu's majesty, let's talk about the style of Guilin Mountain, who doesn't know the style of Guilin Mountain? We are rich, we like to rob the rich, but we never bully the weak, if it weren't for us... There are many more people like you, who are ridden like dogs by the three major forces!"

His voice became more and more high-pitched, "Lao Tzu is so majestic, so rich... If you don't mess with Lao Tzu, who are you messing with?"

There were more than 100,000 people present in the boundless desert, but in addition to the whirring wind, there was also the commotion of the laborers below... There was no other sound.

It is said that the reality is cruel and sad, and all the so-called geniuses who are enthusiastic will eventually die in the dust of history and become drunk and laughing.

But now... Who's making jokes?

Who the hell will have the last laugh?

....

Mo Xiaohe held the wine jug in one hand and the sword in the other, hanging his head high, his eyes were contemptuous, and he pointed at all the deacons, lords, and heads of the thirty forces present with the tip of his sword... On the top of the mountain, the desert wild wind blew his black hair and robe, and the hunting sounded.

Mo Xiaohe stopped the direction of the tip of his sword on Mo Di, and shouted at the crowd with his toes high, "See, this guy is the lord of Moleni Island, the peak strength of Shen Yin, it is amazing... But now Lao Tzu pointed a sword at his nose, and he didn't dare to move. ”

Mo Ei on Ambiguous Island actually moved, but he just turned his head and looked at the desert Shan elsewhere.

"And this old thing... Geng Yuhuai, Geng Huaiguo's younger brother, is also the pinnacle of Shenyin... It's enough to break the cow, but now it's also pointing a sword at his nose... He still didn't dare to fart. ”

Geng Yan is actually not very good-tempered... But when he saw his niece Geng Huairou not far away, he was eager to try the sword in his hand, and in the end he was helpless. just frowned and let the qi out of his buttocks, which can be regarded as a rebellion against Mo Xiaohe. Who said he didn't dare to fart, he let it go.

Mo Xiaohe snorted coldly, leaned over to the top of the pergola, pointed the tip of his sword at the gray robe, and laughed unscrupulously, "And this skinny gray robe that is as ugly as a ghost... I sprayed my head with blood, and I didn't dare to touch me. ”

Saying that, Mo Xiaohe walked back on the roof of the pergola like a monkey, shouting at the sky, "Lonely... How lonely it is to be invincible!"

"Lao Tzu is so arrogant, but no half of the people dare to beat Lao Tzu. ”

At the foot of the mountain, the eyes of the 100,000 laborers slowly became hot.

...

"I really don't want to kill you stinky mouse before going to bed, because it's dirty and it affects sleep. ”

The gray robe finally spoke, "Let you play with majesty in order to fulfill you, in other words, to fulfill the wish of a dying person before he dies." ”

The hoarse voice in his thin throat became deeper and lower, "I also want the world to know that the little emperor of Guilin is a fool at the peak of madness, and Guilin Mountain is a fool... This will make the world see bigger jokes, and it is a joke to see a group of people in Guilin Mountain. ”

The grey-robed voice turned into an angry whisper, "So now, you can die"

Finally, he waved his hand. His movements were light, so light that he looked a little cautious... It's like a girl with a habit of cleanliness, who is careful about killing ants on her desk and afraid of soiling the table.

Time seems to freeze.

The breeze blowing through the heavens and the earth was as slow as flowing water, and the dust, which usually jumped at such a rapid speed, was so still that it was visible to the naked eye.

The fog rose. 、

The yellow sand, trees, and stones on the ground formed a snow-white frost.

The mist gathered together and gathered into a billowing black smoke, like a tornado, rolling towards Mo Xiaohe.

All this happened in a very short period of time... No one had time to react, Mo Xiaohe had already been swept up in the storm.

This storm-like fog is not early morning fog... It is the mist stored in the gray robe divine consciousness of the Hidden Peak, and it is the mist formed by the true power of the void that wears away everything.

This fog can break boulders, crush steel, break rivers, and collapse mountains. For countless years, the gray robe relied on this hand mist to kill countless powerhouses in the world, and it was a draw with the Cangsheng battlefield.

Now, this all-destroying fog has flooded Mo Xiaohe.

As if a prayer or funeral was being held, the heavens and the earth were as quiet as death, so quiet that there was not even a trace of wind.

100,000 laborers stared at the fog in disbelief, but they had to believe it... However, it is indeed impossible for Mo Xiaohe, who has entered the meditation, to resist the attack of the gray robe.

Is history always strikingly similar?

Is reality always cruel?

Is the only reliance of the laborers dead?

Yes, the weak have to be oppressed, and no one can save them... Even if it is the high-spirited emperor of Guilin, even if it is Guilin Mountain.

The fog cleared, and Mo Xiaohe had disappeared. Perhaps, he has disappeared into heaven and earth with this fog, with the vision of all laborers.

The wind sounded again, like the heavy music that sounded after a funeral prayer.

...

Like a flower cat that killed a mouse, the black robe turned around and left in style... He was finally able to sleep peacefully, and he was relaxed.

It's just that there is one more person by his side in an instant, and there is one more young man with a sword in one hand.

The black eyes of the gray robe exposed to the air have their pupils dilated countless times. Because the tip of that sword was only a few dozen centimeters from his throat.

But as a god-hidden powerhouse, this seemingly extremely fast sword is like a crawling turtle in his eyes... He felt a little annoyed, as a cat, being harassed by a mouse, he was really annoyed.

However, the gray robe still didn't want to stain himself, he just gently stretched out his hand, like holding chopsticks, he wanted to hold the sword with two fingers... But his finger was broken, broken in half like tofu, and the tip of the sword was still stabbing at his throat.

The gray robe was a little shaky, and everything in front of him became unreal, so unreal that the black robe even forgot the pain of his broken fingers.

At the moment when the tip of the sword cut through the epidermis of the throat of the gray robe, he finally stepped back like a stab in the back.

"Old brute, fuck you!" the sword-wielding young man yelled at him.

At the foot of the mountain, a tidal wave of cheers suddenly sounded.... 100,000 laborers swarmed up the hill like a flood of embankments.

Reality is not cruel.

The reality is wonderful.