How can there be a brother in the rivers and lakes to have fun?

Snowing.

Xingheying raised his head, and a snowflake fell on the tip of his nose, which was cool.

Then looking into the distance, the sky was already covered with misty white in an instant.This year's snow came very early, not soft snowflakes, but ice particles like fine sand.The Twelve Peaks were suddenly very foggy, and Xingheying suddenly wanted to go around Guixu Cliff.

Unexpectedly, someone arrived at Guixu Cliff before him.

Holding the iron chain with one hand, Xingheying flew up the Guixu Cliff with his strength, the corner of the snow-white Taoist robe flew up like a white bird landing.This season the crane birds have gone to the south for the winter, there are no cranes in Jianmen, but there is a star-like shadow.Stepping on the ground of Guixu Cliff, I looked up to see the white snow and Jianqian Mountain.

Xingheying seemed a little surprised, but he still grinned, revealing two rows of teeth that are whiter than the flying snow in the sky: "Brother, do you want to try to pull out this sword?"

Jian Qianshan was standing in front of the big bluestone at this time, holding the sword with his hand.I don't know how long he held it, it was probably here before it snowed, and Xingheying saw that there was no snow at his feet.

Or maybe the mountain wind blows away all the snow. After all, things like snowflakes are so light that a gust of wind can blow away everything.And something like a sword, after being pierced into the bluestone, even if it is pulled out, it will still leave a sword mark.Unless one day this stone is broken into slag and ground into powder, this trace will always exist.

Jian Qianshan still didn't let go of his hand at this time, just shook his head slightly, turned to look at Xingheying again, with a slight smile on his lips: "Aying, come here."

Although Xingheying didn't know what Jian Qianshan was going to do, he still walked over honestly.Then Jian Qianshan let go of his hand, and took Xingheying's hand instead, holding the hilt of the sword.

Xingheying obviously couldn't understand the situation, and looked back at Jian Qianshan in a daze.So Jian Qianshan said:

"Aying, many years ago, when Master taught me the way of kendoing, he asked me to hold this sword...he said, he wanted me to remember the temperature of this sword."

Xingheying looked at him, a little curious, but honestly did not let go.So Jian Qianshan looked at him: "That day in Sleeping Wolf Den, I remembered this incident when I was unconscious. So... I can't figure it out."

Xingheying blinked and tilted his head slightly, like an innocent and curious little animal.Jian Qianshan looked at his palm: "Aying...how many levels are you in the Sword Art?"

Xingheying raised his brows, and smiled brightly again: "Brother, just tell us what you want to ask. A few days ago, Master taught us the eighth-fold mental method, but I forgot it when I turned my head. You asked me to recite it. If not, I can’t recite it.”

Jian Qianshan looked at the sword with a rare look of confusion: "A Ying... Master told me a long time ago, let me remember the temperature of this sword. There seems to be something behind it, but I can't remember it. gone."

"Then ask Master."

"Master, he said...forgot, it's just that the time has not come yet." Jian Qianshan's eyes fell back on the hilt of the sword, "Aying, I can't figure it out. That day in the sleeping wolf lair, I thought the way of the sword was unfeeling, because this The sword was so cold that it pricked my hand, and when I held it, I felt that my hand was going to be frozen."

"But it's quite hot now." Xingheying looked at Jian Qianshan and laughed, "How long have you held it, brother? It's hot."

Jian Qianshan heard the words and looked at Xingheying's shoulder.Xingheying followed his gaze and looked at the place where he was stabbed by Jian Qianshan that day.

The two of them left Sleeping Wolf Cave that day, but Feng Heming had already been waiting outside.Jian Qianshan was the most seriously wounded. Although Xingheying received a sword, he was still wounded. He rested in Autumn Frost City for a few days and returned to Lingxu Sword Gate before the grassland froze to death.

It was winter now, and the wound had already healed.The image of Xinghe was puzzled, and Jian Qianshan continued:

"If the sword is heartless, it can certainly kill the enemy... but it can also hurt people."

"Brother," Xingheying seemed to understand what Jian Qianshan meant, let go of the hand holding the sword, and then grabbed Jian Qianshan's hand to hold the sword, but did not let go, just holding Jian Qianshan's hand like this hand:

"It was cold just now, but it's hot now."

The snow came so suddenly that the little boys who were studying in the scripture room couldn't help turning their heads to see the snow falling outside.Elder Zhengfa, who was leading others to read the "Qingjing Sutra", sighed, and was about to speak, when he heard a sudden sharp sound of breaking wind in the courtyard——

So he put down the scroll in his hand, and the children timidly turned their eyes back to the scriptures in their hands, but couldn't help but glance out of the window.However, Elder Zhengfa came to the window, raised his hand and opened the window:

"Put down the books, don't read stupidly. You are all beginners in sword arts now, maybe you don't know what the highest state of sword arts is like... Just take a look at it now, it's better than someone who is in the scriptures and outside the window. .”

There seems to be a rustling sound from the snow particles blown by the wind, and the quaint cornices inside the Jianmen Gate and the crouching beasts squatting on the roof all seem far away in this hazy white.In front of the scripture room is a small square, which is usually a place for boys to make gestures. At this time, they are practicing swords on their way home.He was not wearing the strict and solemn brocade-edged deep robe that the head of the sect always wore, but a gray Taoist robe, and the belt of the robe fluttered with the posture of the sword, but the sharp sword was wrapped in an elegant fairy air.His movements seemed to be confronting someone, every move had no back and forth, and while he was defending with his sword back, he turned into an offensive.The opponent probably hid in the void, and his sword style might be the complete opposite, only to see that the sword moves of the return journey gradually no longer looked like the Lingxu Sword Art moves, as if the opponent was acting against the rules in every way.

More and more disciples gathered around, after all, it is really rare to see the master make a move.Usually, on the way home, Wujian danced at the residence of the head of the back mountain, and only Jian Qianshan and his three direct disciples had the opportunity to take a look.

Elder Mingxin, who was always drunk, appeared on the roof again at some point, staring at the movement of asking the way home, and suddenly laughed, and then the laughter became louder and louder, until the sparrows in the corridor flew into the sky in fright go out.The disciples were all puzzled, but they saw Feixue Xiangtian aroused by Wen Wen's sword move on the way home, and suddenly sang Li Taibai's poem loudly——

"I am a madman from Chu, Feng Ge laughs at Kong Qiu. Holding a green jade stick, I look away from the Yellow Crane Tower..."

It's him?or someone else?

"Er Cao's body and name are all destroyed, and the eternal flow of the Yangtze River will not be abolished."

The person who said this spoke suddenly.It was the golden pavilion that was fragrant and warm, with clear water and wind, leaning on a sandalwood recliner, with the window open, looking at the snow outside.The subordinates standing beside him obviously didn't understand where his words came from, Shui Fengqing stood up already brushing his clothes, took the sword on the case with one hand, and stepped into the courtyard of Luoxue:

"Chang Ye, aren't you planning to go find that stinky boy? After seeing this set of sword techniques clearly, show him a trick when the time comes. It's designed to break the Lingxu sword art."

Shui Fengqing said, the sword was out of its sheath, thought for a while, and laughed loudly:

"If he asks what the name of this set of sword techniques is, tell him—"

The sword moves up, as if fighting another person:

"The eighth level of rebellious mentality, Feixue Kuangsong thirty swords!"