How many times the group portrait is spring

Li Zhifeng died, and Chunqiu Shiyi also died.

Looking at the news report, Yan Zhi had no extra emotion, announced the retreat of the army, and then said in Xuan Jing's surprise: "If I die, the Qianjiu Palace will be handed over to Shu Huayan."

Shu Huayan seems to be unrestrained and unrestrained, but from the bottom of his heart, he has this ability, but he would rather be an idle son than to be contaminated with power with his own hands.

But looking at the present, Shu Huayan is indeed the best heir to power. He knows how to restrain his edge and avoid disadvantages. Even if the Eastern Realm loses, with Shu Huayan as the new leader, he will never be hurt go.

As for Wuji Palace, after Chunqiu Shiyi died, Chunqiu Yan was the new successor. He could see the hatred in Chunqiuyan's eyes when he received the news, but Chunqiu Yan, however, announced that Wuji Palace was retiring, regardless of other matters.

During this time, Chunqiuyan has learned to hold back his edge and maintain his voice.

As for why he hibernates, Yan Zhi doesn't care.

It is heard that after the re-seal of the Demon Locking Tower, Xiujie, led by Jing Rong, aggressively pushed back the monster clans who dared to commit crimes in the north, and even drove many big monsters into the Demon Locking Tower.

Such a sharp handling method frightened many weak monster races away, but Daoist Rongxie didn't think it was enough, so he cut the domain with his sword, breaking the talisman formation connecting the monster domain and the human world.

The monster tribes asking for help from Yanzhi piled up piles of posters, but Yanzhi couldn't accept them.

Yan Zhi didn't want to talk about this matter, the Yaozu's retreat steadily, every bit recorded that he would draw his sword against Jing Rong, and there was no room for maneuver.

"I am a god of transformation, and he is a god of transformation." There was a smile on the corner of Yan Zhi's lips, and his eyes were rarely soft. "But in some respects, he is better."

It's because he didn't care.

Regarding how Yan Zhi broke free from the illusion, Yan Zhi doesn't want to talk about it.

But what Moyo saw before the illusion was shattered, had long since laid the groundwork for his defeat.

The lingering pain from being pierced in the chest still remained, and the cold gaze of the sword-wielding man was even more soothing to the bottom of his heart, worse than the pain in his body.

Yan Zhi's trembling hands couldn't grasp the corner of Jing Rong's robe, and he gradually felt his disappearing vitality and disappearing illusion. It turns out that only his death is the end of this illusion.

It seems that this is not the first time, his heartfelt wish has been crushed in the wind, and it has been reincarnated for thousands of years, it is always an extravagant wish.

Yan Zhi tasted the fishy sweetness on the tip of his tongue, and forcibly withdrew his thoughts. He has been afraid to fall asleep recently. In his dream, there was a person walking behind him, drifting away.

How the person whose red line was broken in the dream called hysterically.

... Rongxie? !

...don't do that to me!

don't do that to me...

How to treat him?Yan Zhi closed his eyes, swallowed the fishy sweetness in his mouth, the man in the dream ignored him, but Jing Rong always looked at him, how he treated Jing Rong made Jing Rong's attention become yesterday.

As the saying goes, karma reincarnates, retribution is not good, and he deserves what he deserves.

The Tower of Demon Locking was re-sealed, and the demon clan retreated. It was heard that Xuantianzong would hold a funeral ten days later, and those who died in the battle would be buried grandly.

Yan Zhi listened quietly to the changes outside the realm, he stroked the corners of his lips, and sighed softly: "If my name and surname are on this plaque, then it will be perfect."

At the end of autumn, the wind is cold, and the wind and cold in the north is stronger than that in the east. After the banquet, he gathered his outer shirt. He sat on the top of the mountain, watching the funeral procession that seemed to have no end in sight. The inscription on the wooden plaque is newly engraved.

There is no light in Jing Rong's eyes, and there is no other in the absence of light, as if disappointment and fatigue are mixed to the extreme, and he still wants to care about all living beings and uphold the prestige of other Taoists.

The long-lasting jade crown on his hair was replaced by plain white silk ribbons. The paper on this long road was falling, and the soul streamer was blowing with the wind. Only Jing Rong, in plain clothes and white clothes, led the way, and the disciples who followed behind him were all silent until the end Fang Qiqi chanted scriptures softly at the tomb of Xuantianzong.

It's not that Jing Rong doesn't know, someone is looking at him from afar, but it doesn't matter anymore, from the moment he came out of the Demon Locking Tower, truth or falsehood, calculations or tricks, are no longer important.

A belated awakening is meaningless, and there is no end to it today. Since he entered the world, he has the responsibility to do it.

He wants to pay for this blood-stained disaster with his life.

"Then it will be in Jiuxiaotian, how about you find my place?"

That year, the snow fell in the sky, and the New Year's Eve was a good night, but Jing Rong's eyes were reddish, his palms were warm, and the warm banquet stopped his messy mood.

Now that early winter is gradually entering, and the snow has stopped, everything should come to an end.

"Jingrong, oh Jingrong." Yan Zhi sighed softly, "If you are the robber on my way to the end, then you will be the robber, and there is no need to turn around."

It is he who bears him first, so why bother.

Jing Rong stretched out his hand to smooth the raised soil, and buried the plaque. Yanzhi and him set the place for the next battle at Jiuxiao, and he found his place.

Jing Rong thought, if he had been more on guard against banquets at that time, he would not be as sarcastic as he is now.

It was the warm and sweet Jiuxiaoxue in Ling Yun's palm, and it was Yan Zhi who lied to him for several years.

"Life and death, morning and evening, how many degrees of spring in this world have nothing to do with me." Jing Rong closed his eyes, brushed the dust off his palms, if he could get away from all his entanglements with this world, he wouldn't have to face it This is an endless group of monuments.

"Brother Suzerain..." Lin Wuduan was dressed in plain white, and his eyes were a little darker than Chunche's, "It's time to go back."

"You don't have to go back." Jing Rong looked at him, and also at the disciple of Xuantian Sect who was behind him in white, "No reason, I'm going here, no matter the outcome, you are the suzerain of Xuantian Sect, so don't stay about me, about Rongxie There's not a single trace of deeds."

Looking back at half his life, he has nothing to mention, what kind of Taoist monarch, what kind of cultivator No. 1, it's just an empty dream.

When he met Mo Lingyun, he only laughed and talked.

"Sect Master..." the next disciples called out in unison, but they stopped talking.

Jing Rong stood up, and finally looked at the disciples of Xuantianzong, he sighed very lightly, he seemed to be smiling, but there was no smile in his eyes, and his pursed lips did not relax.

On the contrary, Lin Wuduan lost his composure for the first time. Today is the day of the Xuantian Sect's great sacrifice, he laughed a little crazy. With a wave of his wide sleeve, he bowed heavily and couldn't stop the tears in his eyes. He said: " Farewell to senior brother for no reason!"

He somehow had a premonition that this would be the last time he and Jing Rong saw each other, and the brothers and sisters left one after another, and he was going to shoulder the burden of Xuantianzong after all.

When the wind and snow in Jiuxiao are not warm, the wind howls in winter, and there is no time to melt the eternal cold.

Dressed in luxurious clothes and a golden crown, he walked step by step on the road he once walked with Jing Rong. At that time, the long road was accompanied by Jing Rong, and it was not too far away. Now he is alone, and there are always flashbacks in his mind. Old things.

When he was young, he was selected by Qianjiu Palace to train him as a dead warrior. Except for the dark and damp dungeon, the only ones who accompanied him were rats who scurried past, or those who occasionally came to the dungeon to play tricks on them. Young Palace Masters.

His life is worthless, or worse, until the moment he was released from the cage in the life-and-death battle, the moment he touched the sword, the high-ranking people watching the ceremony laughed and laughed, and he laughed in the arena.

He has no name and surname, and he has nothing to rely on. His life and death depend on the interests of the adults, or whether he can win the top spot in many youth death contests today.

But what he wants is not this, what he wants is that anyone who dares to bully him and humiliate him will fall under his sword.

What he held was nothing more than an ordinary sword that was not even considered a magic weapon, and the eyes of the young palace masters looking at him as the winner were also like looking at a sharpened sword.

He was smiling, even though the cloth was soaked in blood, even if it was only for a moment, he killed these future successors of Qianjiu Palace under the sword.

The huge arena was in chaos, he was a frail young man standing in the center of the stand, the corners of his lips never slipped, and the interest in seeing blood in his eyes never faded.

Since he is fearless in life and death, what else is he afraid of in this world.

Mo Yue is mortal, he almost killed the blood of the palace master in this arena.

Unexpectedly, Yan Qi, the lord of Qianjiu Palace, was even more insane than him. After his son was killed, Yan Qi could still laugh out loud like joy, and asked him in surprise: "What did you do?"

"So what if it's me." His eyes were extremely cold, and his voice was calm, even if he was facing the master of the first palace of demon cultivation, he was not at all afraid.

"Okay! Great!" Yan Qi clapped his hands, waved back the palace people who were extremely wary of the young man, and asked, "What's your name?"

"No name and last name." He has been wandering the world like a wandering soul since he could remember, where did he get his name.

"Okay, great." Yan Qi licked his dry lips, repeated what he said just now, and then said: "Then it's called Yanzhi, stop war with war, stop killing with killing."