A thousand years of life·To the history of Jinling, the life of the Tao

Song Dynasty: Xin Qiji

The autumn grass in the block is reported to be safe and sound. On the sacrificial ceremonies, the heroes are on the table. The golden soup is full of charm, the pearls and jade are falling, and the tale is smiling. When spring is approaching, the plum blossoms are as if they are unable to grow old.

Mo Xi Jin Zun fell. Feng Zhao saw it. He couldn't keep it. Jiangdong was small. He calmly went to the tent and rectified the world. After thousands of years, it will be the exam of the Central Secretariat from now on.

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From having rituals to embracing the gods, from knowing to guarding oneself, then from inheriting the intention to not clear, then traveling to the wild and breaking the sea to the sky, the realm of Qingshan Sect is such a level one. For Zhao Layue, Zhuo Rusui and the names that often appear in this story, this is a very natural process. It seems very simple, but it is definitely not the case.

Practice is a very difficult thing. Each realm will probably stop half of the practitioners. From knowing to breaking the sea, it takes five times to break the realm. It is easy to calculate that the practitioners who can reach that step can really be said to be one in a thousand.

Some practitioners are not talented enough but have extremely strong will. They want to use years to overcome the threshold, but the question is, how many years can you have if your level is not enough?

Therefore, most practitioners will make sure that they have nothing to do with ascension very early, and then make sure that they will stagnate in a certain realm, knowing that they will live here, and then die here.

This is really a desperate thing.

But just like the attitude of mortals towards death, if there are too many desperate things happening, they will naturally become accustomed to them.

This can be called numbness, but in fact it is just not thinking about it.

Ming Guoxing is such a Qingshan disciple. He had already entered the Wuzhangchu Realm many years ago, and then... there was no more.

In recent years, he was responsible for registering visitors at the mountain gate. He was named an immortal master and worked as a deacon. Until in the past two years, he finally became a teacher in Nansongting based on his qualifications. His essence still had no change and no hope.

He didn't expect that he would be as lucky as Senior Brother Lu. When he met a few disciples like that, he could actually return to Jiufeng and get elixirs to break through.

However, life in Nansongting is quite comfortable, and the admiration in the eyes of these young people is really pleasant.

Because of these admiring eyes, Ming Guoxing decided to say more today, raised his eyebrows and said, "Do you know about the matter of the Xuanling Sect?"

The young outer disciples nodded repeatedly and waited for the following article excitedly, and some people couldn't help but shout.

"It's Uncle Jing Jiu!"

"Uncle Master is so amazing!"

Ming Guoxing smiled and said, "You know he also came out of Nansongting, but you shouldn't know that it was the Qingshan I connected to back then."

If you ask your name at the mountain gate and keeping records is considered as a guide... He thought to himself that Senior Brother Lu would not come to Nansongting again anyway.

Hearing this, these outer disciples were very surprised. When they looked at Ming Guoxing's eyes, they asked what kind of person Uncle Jing Jiu was. Ming Guoxing stroked his beard and squinted his eyes, as if recalling the scene at that time: "That young man was fluttering in white clothes and was so beautiful that he could tell that he was extraordinary at first glance..."

His voice suddenly stopped.

The outer disciples were a little puzzled and thought to themselves what was wrong?

Ming Guoxing walked to the window and looked at the peaks in the distance, his expression became solemn.

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The dusk shines on the sword-washing stream, like a golden whip held by the gods, which may rise from the ground at any time and rush into various parts of the mainland.

The young disciples on the banks of the Xijian Creek have not yet inherited the sword and are not qualified to go to Tianguang Peak. However, compared with the outer disciples of Nansongting and other places, they at least know the big event that is happening, and they are not in the mood to see the beautiful scenery that has been seen for several years. Their eyes are on the distant Tianguang Peak, and they whisper to who the new leader is.

Some people even think of something far away. After hundreds of years, who among the three generations of disciples may become the leader of the future?

Zhuo Rusui is the first disciple of Qingshan, and Zhuo Rusui is the closed disciple of the head of the sect. He seems to have great hope, and several names are mentioned at the same time.

Then, a very intelligent disciple denied the possibility of the above people with just one sentence.

"Don't forget that Master Aunt and Uncle Jing are both young in the twelfth lunar month."

Yes, Zhao Layue and Jing Jiu are the commanders, but they are younger than Nanshan, Zhuo Rusui and others.

How can disciples compete with their elders for the head?

These two elders are still so young, and they can't even survive to death.

From this point of view, in a few hundred years, will the junior uncle really be the head of the sect?

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Twilight shrouds the peaks.

The top of the Sky Light Peak follows the last sky light, and it is still bright and the picture is very clear.

No one spoke because of shock.

Countless eyes fell on the chair.

That represents the position of the head of Qingshan.

What's wrong with this?

What happened?

Why did Jing Jiu sit there?

People think they are dazzled or blind.

The Yuan Turtle was very slow, and the Chengtian Sword had been taken away, so it reacted and uttered a sigh of relief.

This oh woke everyone up.

People all yelled in their hearts, remembering the three words that Jing Jiu just said.

"I'll do it."

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What are you here?

Is the wind or the rain?

Wait for the meal or the food?

Come and take a break or have fun?

It's impossible...you are the leader, right?

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Jing Jiu sat in the chair, looking down at Chengtian's sword sheath, obviously having no intention of getting up.

People's eyes looked at him gradually changed from confusion to astonishment, then into anger, and finally returned to confusion.

Do you want to be the head of Qingshan?

This is really ridiculous!

Yes, this matter was so ridiculous that the peak masters and elders didn't know whether they should be angry or laugh.

Nan Wang raised his eyebrows, thought the matter was very interesting, and said, "Is this OK?"

True Man Guangyuan turned his head slightly and looked at Jing Jiu with some curiosity.

Since it is a ridiculous matter, it must be solved as soon as possible, otherwise how can the Qingshan Sect face remain?

Yuanqi Whale maintained a strange silence, but there were always people who came sooner.

"Are you crazy?"

Bai Rujing walked out of the crowd and shouted loudly at Jing Jiu.

No one thinks that Elder Bai is out of control, because many people think that Jing Jiu is crazy. If it was not a special occasion today, people actually want to say to Jing Jiu more about Qingshan's catchphrase - how important it is to choose the leader of Qingshan. Even if you are Jing Jiu, you can't be so chaotic!

Yao Songshan, Lei Yijing and other young disciples who worship Jing Jiu in a very good manner were also very embarrassed at this time, and subconsciously turned their faces.

Even a guy like Zhuo Rusui, who was as thick-skinned as he felt a little embarrassed and fanned the air with his hands.

The people at Shenmo Peak were naturally even more nervous. Gu Qing's face was a little pale. Although Yuan Qu and Ping Yongjia did not really hug each other, they trembled together.

Only Zhao Layue looked calm, as if she didn't know how serious this matter was.

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Jing Jiu was also very calm, as if it was not the person involved, he took down the Chengtian sword while stepping on the back of the turtle, he didn't sit in that chair and said, "I'll do it."

He withdrew his gaze from looking at Chengtian's sword sheath, looked at the top of the peak and the disciples in the sky, and met hundreds of gazes.

"What do you think of me doing?"

He said: "This sect is not what I want to do."

After saying this, he patted Chengtian's scabbard, neither light nor heavy, and seemed to have no special emotions.

This is not like those poets slapped on the railings upstairs, but more like fishermen sang on the side.

A sword intent floated out of the sheath.
To be continued...