Lingshan.

The sandalwood in the Buddha's niche, the bell echoes.

The dawn of the morning pushed into the temple, and petals flew on the top of the mountain temple, and fell on the shoulders of the man in blue shirt kneeling on the futon, and his clothes were everywhere.

Song Queqi sat in the Grand Palace, in the quiet mat where Master Shao Yun was in seclusion, with the curtain swaying, and the light was bright from all directions.

In front of his cushion, there was a basket of bamboo slips on the ground. Many bamboo slips with different hexagrams were scattered outside the bamboo tubes. The ground was messy and dense.

Song Que is not only a guest minister of Lingshan, but also responsible for many affairs inside and outside Buddhism.

He is also a father.

The curtain was gently lifted up.

There are only a few who can enter the Main Hall.

The sky clew clasped his hands together and came to Song Que. He knelt on another cushion and packed the bamboo slips for the guest. The broken hexagrams on the ground were blurred and the meaning was unclear... When the little monk picked up one of the bamboo slips, he couldn't help but tremble.

Just touching, you can realize the danger of life.

The person who is a great guest who is divining and fortune telling, the person who is about to happen is a sign of great danger.

Needless to say.

He also knows who it is.

"Mr. Song Que, Mrs. Gu is here, she is waiting for you in front of the hall."

Yun Li sighed and said seriously: "Lingshan is not afraid of imperial power. If you are really worried, you will take action. I will fight for the rest of the cause and effect, karma, and disaster."

The man in blue-shirt with thin cheeks spoke softly.

"It has nothing to do with imperial power... nor has it to do with cause and effect..."

His temples were much whiter overnight and his expression was much haggard.

"If I were afraid that Jinglian would encounter an unexpected accident... how could I let it travel to the Tianshen Plateau? When I was young, I would indulge in the country." The guest laughed, but the laughter sounded a little bleak, "He is the son of my Song Que. Although he has regarded him as a treasure in his heart over the years, he has never held it in his arms, afraid that he would fall or be hurt."

Skylark heard this.

My heart trembled.

Indeed... Song Jinglian was full of dense scars on her body. She suffered countless fatal injuries and passed several times of the gates of hell.

This is Song Que’s education.

Bathing in blood and drawing a sword is a must-pass path for a man to grow up. If you want to stand up, you will not just bathe in the blood of your enemies.

"But this time is different..." Yunque silently clenched his fists, "Uncle Jinglian, he may really die in the Eastern Realm War."

"yes……"

The guest official replied softly.

He knew better than anyone else what the Eastern Frontier War meant.

The personal cultivation level is insignificant in this war. Even an extreme star king like Jiang Yuxu may die in the attack layout of the ghost cultivator.

“Huhuhuhu——”

The wind blew, and the curtain swayed.

Song Que slowly stood up with his knees. He stood under the vastness of the Palace of Light, and his mind was the conversation between him and his son when they parted in the sky.

"You know that I am a messenger in the Ping Yaosi in the North Frontier, not a sect leader. I practice swordsmanship, not a dragon-slaying technique--"

"Why should I give such an important position? Behind me are hundreds of thousands of lives!"

After a long silence.

It's his own answer.

"It is precisely because it is hundreds of thousands of lives that I have to give it to you."

He had nothing to teach him.

The only reason he can teach his son... is to learn to respect his choices.

(This chapter is not finished, please turn the page)

Many years ago, Song Que hoped that he would become a free person, but when he awakened the sea of ​​divine in the ancient cave of Futu, he embarked on a path that was completely different from his original hope... So after twisting the fire, he often looked back and sighed in the long and long years.

Do you respect your choice?

Become a great guest of Lingshan, guard the common people and protect the terrain of the land.

More than ten thousand people, they are highly respected.

This is certainly good.

But this was not what he wanted at the beginning.

The man in blue slowly turned his head and faced the Buddha's son, his voice hoarse.

"Have you heard this? People always make choices between easy and right things..."

"This is the last truth I told Jinglian."

The skylark looked at the guest with a complicated expression.

The man with gray hair smiled and said, "I gave Jinglian a jade order and told him that if he encounters an unsolvable danger, he will crush the jade order."

"I sat in this Hall of Light for a night, not for divination, but for waiting. If the jade order had a slight trembling sign, I would break through the void. Even if all the old guys in the Hongfu River jumped out, they would never be able to stop me."

With a click.

The man in blue shirt silently clenched his fists, and his bones crackled.

He looked at the Skylark again and chuckled softly: "He has grown up, I respect his choice and trust his choice."

The eyes of the Skylark were a little red.

The Buddha's son moved his lips and stopped talking.

Until the guest turned around and prepared to lift the curtain.

The skylark finally made up his mind and took out a messaging order from his clothes, and handed it out with a trembling voice.

"Mr. Song Que, this is... the battle report of Jiazi City."

...

...

A "tear" sound.

The war payment documents were torn to pieces.

Tear again.

Ten pieces, hundreds of pieces, this document was torn many times, and finally the prince was pinned in his palm and slapped it with a heavy palm. The entire jade case collapsed. It was still unsatisfied. The prince stood up, brushed his sleeves hard, and swept all the jade porcelain and wine cups beside him to the ground.

The screen is broken, and calligraphy and painting fall.

The people outside the hall were frightened when they saw the blurry images reflected by the window paper.

How many years have it been?

When did the prince look so disobedient today?

Two war payment documents from Kunhailou were delivered one after another within one day.

The first letter was the good news of the great victory in Jiazi City. When the war report came, the Tiandu City was filled with joy. When the temple learned that Han Yue’s three Dharma bodies were destroyed, and together with tens of thousands of ghost cultivators suffered heavy damage, they almost set up a celebration banquet in advance.

What is this concept?

According to the information of the first war report, the battle of the East Realm was a great victory, which was equivalent to the Tiandu side winning the victory ahead of schedule.

But before the prince was happy, the second letter of war was sent to Tiandu.

At this moment, Gu Qian knelt in the house. He didn't look directly at His Highness, but only dared to raise a ray of afterglow.

The broken screen reflected a young figure who fell on a bench, and the prince's depressed and hoarse voice slowly rang in the cabinet.

"Qianshan, Guifushan, Taiyoushan, all three Holy Mountain masters died in battle..."

"Jiang Yuxu died in battle..."

"Song Jinglian, Zhusha died in battle..."

"36,000 casualties in Jiazi City, the fortress fell, and the city was broken..."

Li Baijiao could hardly believe his eyes.

(This chapter is not finished, please turn the page)

How do he believe this!

Jiazi City, which was a great victory half a day ago, fell in an instant. The high-end combat power of the Three Saint Mountain camp was almost wiped out, and there was no one living in the scout camp. This means that no one knew what happened to the battle that broke out at the head of Jiazi City.

The monks who participated in that battle.

All died.
To be continued...