He was just about to get angry and beat this guy awake so that he would stop dreaming - how could it be so simple to go from Holy God Continent to Ranming Ruins?

Haven't moved yet.

The Eight Masters have closed their eyes.

This time, he was no longer silent.

Facing the cool night wind and the bleak mountain forest, he opened his lips and teeth, as if he had taken out all the strength he still had, and chanted loudly:

"Half life is lonely, the autumn cicada misses the summer."

"Recalling the majestic past, flowers flow from the sky."

The mountain forest was deathly silent, and the murmuring sounds drifted farther and farther with the night wind, but they couldn't go very far at all.

There is no sword chant.

There is no streamer.

Only the rustling of the branches was left to respond, dispelling the slight embarrassment that might have arisen from the sudden remarks if outsiders were present.

The storyteller pursed his trembling lips and his nose was slightly sore.

He heard his brother's reminiscences about the glorious past and his desire for the art of swordsmanship.

But……

The moon that belongs to the ancient sword cultivator has gone to other people's heads and is no longer focused on him alone.

The guy who made a move and made the world move, and a sword that brought all kinds of magic to follow, did not come back in style just because he chanted a few words at this moment.

Let's go.

We go down the mountain.

What other people do is none of my business, let's go home.

The storyteller wiped the corners of his eyes, stood up, and was just about to step forward and take his brother home, but he never thought that after a brief pause...

"boom!"

The entire mountain forest was suddenly shaken.

An unknown force descended from the sky, cutting off the leaves on the branches and the flowers on the edges of the leaves.

The beasts in the forest that were quietly touched by the noise were either smashed to the ground or buried with broken bones.

Just as the storyteller was about to take a step forward, he knelt down in front of his brother and knocked him on the head, causing his forehead and nose to bleed.

"???"

Unprepared, he was completely stunned.

After he managed to lift his head under the heavy pressure, his ears felt as if they were pricked with needles again, and he only heard a melodious sword cry that made people dizzy!

"The song in the box is moving, now I am in harmony with myself."

"Shadows are riding under the moon, and flowers are flying with a sword."

call out!

A thought rises in the wind and carries it along the branches and leaves.

In the blink of an eye, the light and shadow crossed the mountain stream and Qingming, turned into a little black under the moonlight, and then disappeared.

Bang.

Bazunzun seemed to have died. His body went limp and fell to the ground. The back of his head was bleeding from the gravel.

"ah!"

The storyteller screamed, and after realizing that the momentum was gone, he hurriedly stepped forward to help him up:

"Brother, brother, what happened to you! How could you die?"

"Why bother? Why bother to save face in front of others? Others will laugh at you, but they won't laugh at you..."

He paused as he spoke, stretched out his green jade finger, and probed his brother's breath.

Eh?

Still angry?

The storyteller's eyes lit up, he thought of "quenching fire with thoughts", and quickly turned his head and glanced behind him.

Under the moonlight in the mountains, the sound of swords no longer sounds, and the wind supports the flowers.

The unknown dark purple petals swayed and fell, breaking the light and making people lose their minds.

"Flying flowers with one sword..."

The storyteller finally heard the explanation, but he couldn't understand it.

He stared blankly into the distance and murmured:

"He still went..."

…

This night.

People who are sleeping soundly in the southern region will not notice that flowers are blooming, and the fragrance comes from their dreams.

The flowers were carried by the wind, rising from the southern region and lost in Nanming. Not long after, they landed again from the eastern region, wandering through the roads and fields, visiting the mountains and rivers, and sending incense to the sword tombs.

"Buzz!"

Sword burial mound and sword washing pool.

Qingju suddenly went crazy, trembling violently, like a thin dog that had been hungry for thirty years and smelled the hot, freshly baked black pork buns.

"Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!"

"Keng! Keng! Keng!"

It struggled desperately.

It cried desperately with tears.

It tried to break through the blockade of the Sword Washing Pool, break through the resentment of the hundred thousand broken swords in the Sword Tomb, and break through the rules of this place to come out again.

It failed.

Even though its green residence has the glory of flooding from the sky.

Today, it is just a broken sword that is rusty and covered with moss, and it has been abandoned for a long, long time.

"Woooooooo..."

It cried helplessly.

It’s a big dream, but when you wake up, it’s all empty.

This dream has occurred countless times in the past thirty years.

…

The top of the Tianshan Mountains, on the side of Jianma.

"What are you doing!"

"Did I steal your heirloom? Why are you chasing me like this? Are you sick?"

Wen Tingben was still controlling his consciousness to run wildly and retreat wildly.

Suddenly, his pupils trembled, he regained consciousness, and tilted his head in disbelief.

people?

Not an illusion!

In the past thirty years, no one has been able to climb to the top of the Tianshan Mountains except himself. There is actually an ethereal, otherworldly figure in the void.

He looked to be in his early twenties, with a pine-shaped crane body, sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, his hands were clasped behind his waist, and he was so angry that he swallowed the whole world. His eight-foot-long body reached to the sky, and he was dressed in white robes like a banished immortal.

This person...

This person!!

Wen Ting's face turned pale and pale, changing again and again.

After rubbing his eyes, he still couldn't accept the appearance of the figure in front of him.

He suddenly felt like he was having a seizure. He bent down, swung his upper body left and right, straightened up again, and pecked his head left and right like a woodpecker. Finally, he covered his chest with his hands, pushed the air into his chest, and said in a choked voice:

"Ah ah ah~ my wife~"

It was so overwhelming that I couldn’t contain the shock in my heart even after singing randomly.

"Shut up."

The white-robed figure's expression darkened.

Wen Ting felt as if his chat box had suddenly been opened, and what was inside turned out to be a flood, which he couldn't even stop:
To be continued...