The king of Hades who was hunted down by the system

Chapter 42 Yellow Flower Wine
Green bamboo surrounds the quiet room, and the coolness floats.

The chic ink paintings embellished by swordsmen thousands of miles, drinking the slightly bitter yellow flower wine in September, sitting silently to the old and young men at the tea table.

"Have you decided?"

The gray-bearded old man bowed his head not to look at the young man, and in his hand was a pendant of emerald green jasper, shining brightly.

"Ah."

The black-clothed boy took a sip of the wine from the chrysanthemum cup, and it was bitter. He had never liked to drink alcohol, but at this moment, he couldn't let go of the yellow flower wine that was so astringent that it made his tongue tingle.

"As white as a lotus flower, green as a bamboo leaf next to you. Chrysanthemums boast longevity, and medicine celebrates longevity. Alcoholic new flavors are passed on to the old forbidden court." The old man sang poems leisurely, and the chicness and loneliness of the swordsman urges people to grow old.

"It's September, drink some of this, so I can let you go to Changxia."

The young man's fingers trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back, accompanied by this fragrant but bitter yellow flower wine.

".master"

"Don't talk about it, the master also knows about knights, isn't it just to have this kind of awareness."

"Being poor cares themselves, being wealthy cares the world"

The old man sighed, "I just feel sorry for you. Changxia is a place where a young man like you can go? Now that there are all kinds of monsters in the troubled times, Changxia is like a tiger's den and a dragon's pool, and he died for it for no reason."

To put it bluntly, die for it.
Even so, Fan Xingyan still carried his "jackdaw" on his back, and traveled thousands of miles to Changxia in the extreme east.

I would rather die holding the fragrance on the branches than blow it down in the north wind.
Instead of living an ignoble existence, he really preferred this heroic method, which was worthy of his original intention of being a knight. Even if he died silently, at least it would have bloomed like fireworks.

That afternoon, he packed his bags and left Chongzhou Yinzhuang. Along the way, the rivers and lakes were slanted by wind and rain.

He didn't stop until he saw the Changxia City shrouded in dark clouds.

Dark clouds overwhelm the city.

It was worse than imagined, the city of Changxia was full of maddened people with green eyes, wishing to swallow people up, so as to relieve their grievances.Hundreds of rivers and lakes and the Qiansong army surrounded the city and cleared out the insane and inhuman villains who had greatly increased their strength.

He later learned that those were not "people", but evil spirits crawled out of hell.

On September 24th of the third year of Jin and Yuan Dynasties, he fled to Changxia Temple with scars all over his body, and met a young man from a hidden sect. The young man gave him a copper coin, saying that "it can save his life."

The boy stayed in Changxia to stop the evil spirits, and when others thanked him, he just waved his hand, saying that it was his teacher's responsibility, and he couldn't shirk it. He could see that the boy was just not used to being thanked by others.

Since the arrival of the young boy, the number of people who died in Changxia has decreased a lot. It was not until October [-]th that this short and painful recovery of evil spirits subsided.

During this period, 230 people died in Jianghu, nearly [-] officers and soldiers, and countless people in Changxia
On October [-]th, when everything subsided, he walked out of the long summer, like a big dream.

He thought that he had matured a lot because of this, and he also thought that he would end his love and righteousness on this road of master, but he didn't expect that it was just a return trip, so he threw his soul in Haizhou.

"Xingyan, why is the knife in your hand called Jackdaw?"

The woman is like the egret in the sky that he saw in his return poem, with the tenderness of returning home on his body, gentle and remote when looking at people.He has always thought that he has a heart of stone, a swordsman who can die alone on the road of cultivation, but he never thought that he just didn't meet someone he likes.

Empty Valley Orchid, too high and too cold.

The downtown area is peachy and plum-colored, and her makeup is too heavy, and her smile is full of flattery and falsehood.

"Because its temperament is lonely and cold, so I call him Jackdaw."

"Haha, how can a knife have temperament." The woman's silver bell-like laughter made his ears burn.

"Yes, yes. Look at it."

Picking up the knife pretending to be calm, the silver filigree is inlaid on the handle of the knife. The blade is extremely bright, and because of the forging, the blue-purple shimmer of the blade can be seen from the side.

The woman stretched out her hand and touched it lightly, and felt a bit of coldness running down her fingertips, which was indeed miraculous.

Seeing that the clothes on her body were not thick, and her outstretched fingertips were a little pale, he pretended not to care and touched the back of the woman's hand.

Sure enough, it was a little cold.

Haizhou is closer to the south than Chongzhou, and further east is the endless sea. Although the climate is mild, it is October after all, so it is better to wear thicker clothes when you take her out.
"We go home."

"Huh? Didn't you just come out?"

"The leaves fell all over the ground, bare, nothing to see, and it's a bit cold."

"Is Xingyan cold?"

"It's because I'm a little cold."

She pretended to be so hard, but she burst out laughing, her eyes seemed to be sprinkled with stars, and her coiled hair was simply beautiful with a silver hairpin inserted.

"Let's go then."

The woman took his arm, like an ordinary husband and wife, walking by the lake covered with yellow leaves, the quietness of the years made people's eyes sore.

Fame is indeed beautiful, and the realm of longevity is everyone's wish, but one can see the responsibility and hypocrisy in it with just one glance.

He has achieved all the achievements that others can't reach in just a dozen years, but only at this moment can he feel that he is a real person, with a warm heart and body, not a stereotyped hero. Or an extreme and surly young knight.

In the old windows of the small building for several years, I watched the mandarin ducks on the lake dressing up.

Fan Xingyan almost forgot how expressionless he used to be. He kept practicing with the sword in his hand, but the smile on his face never stopped. At that time, he was ready to stay away from the world and live in seclusion.

With some interest, I wondered how the old man would react when he saw his beautiful daughter.
With the Juquan Pavilion roast duck in his hand, he walked to the door triumphantly, but his expression turned cold.

Bloody smell
And the familiar rotting ghost.
It wasn't until he opened the door with difficulty and trembling that he woke up from the dream he had had for several years. The jackdaw at his waist was extremely sharp, cutting off the arm of the evil spirit and cutting off his dream of living in seclusion.

"Jie Jie—!!"

Why are you laughing? Why can't you kill all the evil ghosts?
"It's useless, you are just a human martial artist. Jie Jie!!!"

He kept slashing and using jackdaws to attack the bluish-gray evil spirit opposite, and tried hard to restrain himself from looking at the mutilated corpse on the ground.

Until he vomited blood and was so angry that he lay in a pool of blood and looked into his wife's beautiful eyes.

Love is farewell, love is deep and lifeless.

Sure enough.
The world is very bitter
The blue-black ghost claws were close to his neck. As long as the sharp nails went lower, he could go down to accompany her.
"stop!"

It seemed like someone was attacking, the tip of the knife rang, leaving the house they decorated together dilapidated and dirty.

I don't know how long it has passed, his body is getting colder and colder, the blood flow cannot stop, his eyes flicker slowly because of dryness, and he still can't let go of the pair of gray eyes in front of him.

"Hero, can you still go?"

The sound is far away, as if on the other side.

He closed his eyes in pain, and it had been several days since he woke up again, and after waking up, he was no longer the former West Wind Swordsman, but the killer of Ghost Palace.
In the end, he still violated his original intention and stained himself with blood because of the so-called gratitude.

I would rather die holding the fragrance on the branches than blow it down in the north wind.
The real him had died beside his wife long ago.

　The illiterate author discovered that it turned out to be "mostly in the west wind and white bridge". However, I still like "from the bottom". Alas, I always recite the words wrong when I recite them. I hope everyone is not as confused as me.

　　In fact, you can find that some pits are already connected, hahaha.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)