C254

"Xia Chan has been by my side for a long time, but he is still not an official disciple. You are three years older than Xia Chan, so you should be his senior. "

"It's not that you're not as hardworking as him. You're not as ruthless to yourself as him. He had asked for too much, had suppressed himself too much, and had forced himself too hard. He was only nine years old when he started martial arts with me, and his body was weak. Yet you have trained in martial arts since you were a child, and your foundation is solid. Within ten years, you will be equal. Ten years later... You are his senior brother, so no matter what, he will do his best to help you. "

"I asked Xia Chan the same question yesterday. Although he was arrogant, he had always thought it through thoroughly. From now on, listen to his thoughts and don't let him decide everything. He is arrogant, ruthless, and resolute. If you advance and retreat together with him, you will definitely be injured because of this. And … Although I intended to cultivate Chai Fan, I was unable to make him an instrument. In the future, every single step of the way, the only person you can rely on is your junior brother. "

"He is a wolf. In his heart, besides kindness, there is only hatred. My kindness to him was the only rope that held him. I will give you this rope, do not tie it too tightly, and do not let go. "

"..." So be it, I'm not too bad about what my old friend asked me to do. You give him this letter and hold the rope tight, remember? "

Xia Qingshang slowly curled his finger, his fingertip stabbing the space between his eyebrows without feeling anything.

He had no way of knowing what was written in that letter. He only remembered that day when his Junior Brother carefully put away his Master's letter, and then slowly kneeled down towards him, kowtowing to him. The Junior Brother said that he was going to bring Master back so that he could be buried alive. I will be right back.

In his memory, his only junior brother was arrogant and cold. Other than his Master, he had never seen his Junior Brother show more respect towards any other person — including him, his Senior Brother.

The first time he saw him, he could only bow deeply and call him "Senior Brother." This form of address did not carry any respect, nor did it contain any ridicule. It was just an extremely plain and distant address.

Every time they met after that, he would lower his head and clasp his hands together, calling them "Senior Brother" in a succinct manner. They were originally from the same sect, but without any unnecessary interactions, they walked past him.

However, that time, he had performed a great gift that he had never done before — not since.

His eyes that were calm to the extreme were emotionless. However, Xia Qingshang knew that he knew everything. Perhaps he also knew that his master had been raising him for many years with sincerity and utilization.

Xia Qingshang subconsciously clenched his fists, as though he was gripping the rope of nothingness, but he only felt powerless. Was such a person really someone he could control?

However, the Junior Martial Brother only got up and left. He carried his Master's corpse on his back and buried it deep in the mountains. He then stood by his side, not moving an inch away from her.

In the days when he was heavily injured, he would sit on the ground, leaning against the wall, looking up at the pitch-black ceiling. He waited for the sound outside to die down before he sat down and began to recuperate. After daybreak, he tidied everything up properly before resting on the table. Every day, he would rest for no more than two to four hours.

For some reason, he was like a wounded wolf, licking his wounds alone in the dark, afraid to sleep. If you get a full night's sleep, you have to prick up your ears and pay attention to your surroundings. A little noise will wake you up.

However, such a lonely and proud wolf, yet night after night sitting on the ground, it was incomparably humble.

He was obviously powerless to hold on to the rope, but he was willing to stay close to her until the rope around his neck tightened. Xia Qingshang had thought that he would impatiently throw her away, but even when she couldn't see anything, she didn't see any disdain or annoyance towards her in his eyes.

He had merely shed all his blood, but he had never shed a single tear for himself. He had just lost all his dignity and had not kneeled down for himself.

Until Xia Qingshuang's heart went cold for revenge, yet he kept guarding the Broken Feather Sect and his disheartened senior brother for ten years as usual.

"Clear and shallow? Light? "

Xia Qingqian woke up from her reminiscing. Her fingertips touched the sweat on her forehead, and after a moment, she smiled. "Ten years."

Xiao Zhiyu was slightly startled, but then a sigh appeared in his eyes, "The martial arts world is no longer the same world as it was ten years ago."

Xia Qingshang lowered his hand, the curve of his lips was mixed with an unknown emotion, "I only hope that he can escape with a safe escape."

Xiao Zhiyu knew who he was referring to, and also knew that this dangerous move was the key to victory. They knew exactly what kind of danger the person who liked to take on everything alone was in, but they could only pretend that they didn't know.

As the sky gradually darkened, lanterns had already been hung up from various parts of the palace, and the laughter of the guests had instead become even clearer. It was rare for the usually quiet House of the Qi King to be so lively.

It was just that from a thousand miles away, he didn't know what the situation was like.

— —

The difference between life and death only lasted for a moment.

The chilliness of the blade could be felt by both sides, but the two chose not to dodge.

It was a gamble of life and death.

Since the Southern Courtyard had no intention of fighting with Wu Gou's ordinary killers, they were naturally happy to watch the fight. Sick Wind, who was fighting with South City, stopped at the same time as Liu Ming and South City. He shifted his gaze to the two people who were filled with killing intent, holding his breath as he waited for the outcome.

The sounds of metal clashing against metal varied in intensity. Only after a total of eight or nine clicks did it stop.

Yan Bugui rolled a few steps sideways, then sprinkled a stream of blood on the ground. He staggered a few times when he landed before finally stopping. Wen Wan, on the other hand, staggered two steps to the right, using his knife to steady himself, and blood once again leaked out from his nose and mouth.

The three of them looked at the results with their eyes. They all thought about it and understood some of it, but they were still unable to understand some of it.

Yan Bugui had a soft blade wrapped around his waist all year round. An expert like Wen Wan, even if he didn't know it, as an enemy of ten years, would certainly be able to see through it. He had a lot of styles when wielding a blade. He didn't need to choose a simple horizontal slice, and he didn't even need to move toward the soft knife. However, seeing Yan Bugui spitting out blood, the three onlookers guessed at his internal injury.

If Wen Wan's kung fu was high and strong, that was not necessarily the case. The only thing he was good at was the cicada blade, but it was not a powerful weapon that could meet the enemy in close combat.

If the Wen-wuwu general martial arts, is a joke. The number of people in the martial arts world who knew a hundred martial arts techniques was never low. Most of the travelling adventurers who had traveled for many years were able to distinguish the moves of dozens of martial arts techniques. However, there were only a few who were proficient in "memorizing" or "understanding".

The talent of photographic memory, the comprehension of seeing, the experience of seeing the Jianghu, the unremitting hardships of spring and autumn, can make a man.

In the past, the second disciple of the Crippling Feather Sect, Xia Chan, was known as the prodigy of the Hundred Family Martial Arts. His master loved to fight, and he also loved to fight with others. After every exchange of pointers, he was able to display the moves his opponent had used as though they were the same. After practicing them a few times, he would be able to control them with ease. Even just from watching the fight, he could clearly remember the fights between the five of them and repeat them one by one. He had only missed five or six moves. After careful deliberation, he found that although he did not understand a few moves, he could still use them with ease.

Beating cattle across mountains was a skill that everyone was familiar with. Most people had also learned this skill. Although it wasn't difficult, it wasn't very useful. It was inevitable for an object to lose inner strength when being struck by an item that was separated from one's body. In a real life-and-death battle, this skill had become useless. Even Yan Bugui didn't expect that Wen Wan, who was already severely injured, would still be in the mood to directly send his internal energy into his body through the flexible sword.

Only Yan Bugui, who had personally experienced this ingenious move, knew that although it was the same technique of "beating cattle across mountains", it was very different when used by Wen Wan.

In a battle of such power, even a six year old child wouldn't be so naive as to think that a soft blade could block the opponent's attack." Yan Bugui had only used his soft saber to block a few hits, but he had also used his inner strength to protect his abdomen and waist.

Unexpectedly, Wen Wan was able to predict this, and poured all of his internal force into the soft knife at his waist, using only his brute force to tempt him to transfer his internal force. Regardless of whether Yan Bugui did it on purpose or not, he would always subconsciously pour his inner force into the soft knife — it was no different from a mantis trying to block a chariot with its arms full of snow. After pouring inner strength into it, even if it was a weak object like a dried twig, it would still be able to break the rock and break the metal, let alone a flexible blade that had been thoroughly tempered.

Dividing some of the internal energy to fight was a choice most people would make. It was especially wise when in a situation like this.

It was the same for Yan Bugui. And the decision he made in an instant by relying on his own experience had caused him to suffer miserably.

What kind of weapon was Snow-Bearing Blade? A masterwork weapon used to cut iron, such as mud, and to turn water into ice. Yan Bugui's soft blade was so fragile in front of the snow, while the snow was so fearless in front of the blade filled with inner strength.

Wen Wan with negative snow as the medium, the internal force poured into the soft knife. Yan Bugui injected more inner Qi again. The two flows of inner Qi repelled each other. Naturally, the soft blade could not bear the destruction and broke inch by inch. A few pieces of the broken knife were directly smashed into Yan Bugui's body by the snow, and most of them were scattered along with the torn cloth. The internal energy that had not been dissolved was completely transferred into Yan Bugui's body, and after it exploded, it was dissolved by the pure internal energy in his body.

In truth, using inner force to attach to a weapon only requires the same or similar amount of inner force to be injected into it. The purer it is, the less damage it does to the weapon. Even if the inner force itself was tyrannical, if there was no conflict with the second type of inner force, it would not cause any obvious damage to the weapon.

Wen Wan sent out all of his internal force, clashing with the second type of internal force in the soft knife, which was already no longer harmful to the snow. But in a struggle between two different kinds of internal forces, Yan Bugui didn't have the ability to transmit the internal energy belonging to Wen Wan back. The only thing that could be transmitted into the negative snow was the internal energy of Yan Bugui during his second circulation. At this moment, there was still only one kind of internal force left in the snow — that was, the internal force of Yan Bugui. Wen Wan turned the snow upside down, and with his unique characteristic of cold, transferred the internal force of the sword into the snow, so that no harm could be seen on the blade.

By infusing inner strength into the weapon, it was equivalent to being controlled by the owner of the inner strength. There were only a handful of people in this battle who dared to withdraw all of their inner strength while the other party poured their inner strength into the weapon in their hands. This was an extremely risky action, but it was also an overbearing action. If one didn't have the ability to control the situation accurately, then they would be courting death.

As it turned out, Wen Wan had the ability to do so. He calculated every move and every reaction of his opponent. With his heavily injured body, in the face of absolute disparity in strength, he fought back with this move.

On the other hand, Yan Bugui didn't have any calmness, only a sorry state. He hacked down with his blade, leaving only three inches between his eyebrows. He heard the sound of wind in his ears, and knew that things were not good, but his moves were already old, and could not be avoided. He could only receive it, hoping to exchange it for his life.

The nine cicadas' wings struck the saber blade at the same time. The three cicada wings struck the saber blade at the left front and the four cicadas struck the right rear.

The method to use the seven sabers was taught to Xia Chan by Xia Ruyu. Although Yan Bugui didn't know the details, he knew its function.

After the seven cicada wings rotated, they gathered at one spot. The slightly wrong blades overlapped with each other, and the tips of the blades came into contact with the contrasting hilt of the cicada wings. The seven blades intersected each other and the bodies of the blades clashed together. A slight vibration could dispel the force of the cicada's wing blade and reduce the force of the blade's attack to forcefully stop the damage to the cicada's wing blade.

The seven sabers that should have intertwined with each other had deliberately changed their positions. However, with the help of the other sabers, the force used to dissipate the attack was completely retained. Furthermore, it was used on other weapons.

As for the other two cicada blades, one of them flew past Wen Wan's forehead, leaving an extremely light scar. The other flew past Yan Bugui's neck. If Yan Bugui moved half an inch to the left, the cicada's wings would cut open his neck. One inch meant his life was lost here.

Yan Bugui had only rested for a short period of time, but he had already understood the danger of dying. He could not help but narrow his eyes, and his expression changed.

Not just him. In addition to Wen Wan, who had already expected the result, every onlooker's expression changed.

It was as if the person who stood on the edge of his blade would never lose.