The sunset spits red, the yellow sand dances in the sky, the birds return to their nests, and the strong wind blows like snow.

The dead well, the struggling trees, the dust is everywhere, and the turbid tears and dirty faces are looking at the missing person.

On the summer solstice, the strong winds are south and the sun is the longest.

The gradually falling sun is exposed to the river that has been dead for a hundred years.

Cracked ground, broken cliff.

The towering loess hills are shining with dead grass.

He sat on the highest dune in the desert.

His long messy hair covered his face, and he opened his red short shirt on his upper body, revealing his muscles as solid as black iron.

A spear with sharp blades buried in the yellow sand, a horse lying in the sand with hunger and exhausted clothes, and a group of crows hovering behind him like black clouds.

This is a cemetery in the desert and a fierce nest for man-eating crows.

The gloomy wind blew across the sand, with white bones woven, as if sighing about the past, and the grievances were hard to complain. The gloomy wind hit the sand again, and the remains of corpses were covered, as if they were hurt and parting, and they were particularly unwilling to accept it.

It was dark and uneasy.

The hungry crows are ready to move.

It was just because he was carrying the semi-corrupt corpse behind him, and the bloody stinking of the crow's instinctive impulse.

However, no crow dared to approach the rotten corpse, nor did a crow dared to approach the tired horse that fell to the ground.

The blooming blood, the bulging scars, and the dense new and old scars.

The boundless murderous aura emanated from him.

Suddenly, a sharp roar came from the dim sky.

The white falcon, like thunder and lightning, dispersed the flock of crows,

It fell on his shoulders.

He opened the wine gourd, drank a sip, and poured the remaining wine on the sand and fed it to the White Eagle.

The silver spear broke out from the ground and held it tightly in his hand. He stood up, tall and mighty, like a god descending to earth.

"You will be buried in peace soon."

Looking down from the hills, there is an east-west loess official road. Wherever you see and where you end, there is only a dim and yellow heaven and earth.

He stared at the official road under the hills, his breathing began to become rapid, his muscles sometimes tense and sometimes loose.

He has been waiting here for a day and a night.

On the day when he rushed out of Yunwang Palace with his brother's body on his back, he killed seventy people.

Seventy, a very certain number.

These seventy people were his men and his friends.

He clearly remembered everyone's expression before his death.

There is fear, anger, fear, helplessness and unwillingness.

Even though someone knelt down and begged for mercy, he still did not leave a living.

"Jin, take me home!"

"Brother, do we still have a home?"

"have!"

From south to north, it spans 1,500 miles across the continent, with thirteen majestic passes, a fierce horse, a silver spear, and a rotten corpse.

He was a guest living in the southern house and a prodigal son who returned to the north.

The cold-faced killer god, with hot blood and tears, countless scars, endless vicissitudes, killing the sky and the earth, killing the sun and the moon without light.

The horse could no longer walk when he got here, and there was only one last pot of wine left. The white eagle brought the message of the old friend in the East, so he decided to wait here.

Wait for the person who can make his brother buried.

This is the most common caravan in the desert, dozens of camels, dozens of dusty merchants, full of loads of goods.

The camel bells sounded, and a shallow mark appeared in the yellow sand.

Young man, a slender young man in purple clothes.

The fair face, tough edges and heroic spirit.

A pair of star eyes and two sword eyebrows.

There is a deep red mark between the eyebrows, like the sorrow of the red moon fading away at dawn.

The straight body swayed above the hump, the loneliness written by the wind and sand, the fatigue left by the distance, and the anxiety between the eyebrows were like the heat waves in the midsummer desert.

The yellow sand gradually covered the footprints behind him.

What young people are confused about is not only the present, but also the future.

Where will it come from? Where will it go?

He frowned, looking into the distance, with only confusion.

"The gate of hell is ahead!" A middle-aged businessman with a beard urged the camel to the side of the young man in purple and said loudly.

"Gate of Hell?" The young man in purple had a puzzled face.

"There are mounds on both sides of the official road ahead, and the eyes are covered by wind and sand. At night, there are often horse bandits who kill and rob, so they are called Ghost Pass." The bearded merchant pointed to the front and said.

The young man in purple looked up at the sky, and the sun had begun to set.

"Don't worry! Since we have taken your money, we will ensure your safety and send you safely to the Holy Land." The bearded merchant said proudly.

The young man in purple nodded slightly, with bitterness and helplessness in his forced smile.

"Boss Luo! There is a sandstorm ahead!"

When the bearded merchant heard this, he looked towards the Ghost Gate. Sure enough, the rolling sand and dust were coming towards this side.

The ball of sand and dust moved very fast, and it was vaguely less than two miles away.

"It's the horse bandit!" Boss Luo pulled out his sword, "Brothers, it's the horse bandit!"

When the merchants heard this, they took out their weapons and were ready to fight.

The young man in purple looked closely and found that there was a group of swordsmen attacking in the sandstorms.

As the sky was about to dark, horses galloped and smoke rose everywhere.

The scimitar is like a silver moon, shining with cold light.

The bandits got closer and closer, and the roaring sound was already coming to their ears with the wind. The strong man, who was the leader, wore a tiger-skinned short coat, rode a jujube-red horse, and rode the first.

The two sides met, and the moment the silver light flashed, three or four merchants had already landed on the ground, and then the sound of war broke out and a chaotic battle.

There are about one hundred horse bandits in this group, all of whom are strong and brave and good at fighting. The merchants are defeated and more than a dozen have fallen.

Boss Luo sat on the camel and was stabbed twice in the left shoulder.

He waved his sword hard to resist the attack of the bandits, retreated step by step, and guarded in front of the young man in purple.

The young man in purple was unarmed and looked extremely weak.

Facing the brutal bandit, although his face did not change, it was like fish under the knife and could only look up at the moon and sigh.

The scimitar rose and the boss Luo's head fell to the ground.

The scimitar rises again, and the young man in purple is unstoppable, unable to escape, and unable to avoid.

At the critical moment, a silver dragon suddenly roared on the sand dune.

Under the moon, a silver spear was sandwiched with the waves of sand, and it came at lightning, instantly piercing the throat of the bandit who was waving a scimitar towards the young man in purple.

Before the gun was exhausted, it pierced through the chests of two horse bandits one after another.

A red figure, like a flying fire, like a meteor, tapped the tail of the silver spear with its feet, the fish jumped up, and pulled out the two swords from its waist, and two more horse bandits' heads fell to the ground.

The silver spear penetrated deeply into the yellow sand with boiling blood. The man in red grabbed the void, and the silver spear broke through the sand and stood in the air.

On a bright moonlit night, the torches reflected in the sky.

The silver spear and red shadows shuttled through the horse bandits like ghosts, cold lights spread everywhere, and blood splattered in the sky.

In an instant, most of the horse bandits fell down.

The young man in purple could not keep up with the bloody shadow of the night killing.

This gun, this pair of swords, this bodywork, this red clothes.

It seems familiar, but I can't remember where I have seen it.

"I've met a ghost! Everyone run away!" Before the leader of the horse bandit finished speaking, the red figure had already landed behind his horse. The sharp blade slashed through his throat. In an instant, the rustling sound was already a gushing of blood.

A horse bandit holding a torch saw the red figure carrying a skeleton on his back, and was so scared that he fell to the ground from his horse.

"It's a ghost, it's really a ghost!"
To be continued...