salted fish soaring

When the heavy snow fell, Song Qianji was running for his life.

He walked with his sword, crossed the vast desert, climbed over mountains and ravines, and fled from the ocean at the easternmost point of the mainland to the snowfield at the westernmost point.

So his enemies rushed to the snow field from all directions, like surging waves, vowing to submerge an isolated island.

All kinds of flying magic weapons densely covered the sky, and the halos of magic weapons of various colors intertwined to form gorgeous light curtains.

The sky was full of white snow, and it was illuminated in colorful colors.

This pursuit and siege lasted for three days, and the killing was so complete that the sky and the earth could not be seen, and the sun and the moon could not be seen with all eyes, which can be called a spectacle.

Song Qianji's blood was almost drained, he didn't feel pain, only cold.

The natal flying sword swayed and slanted, and finally overwhelmed, it fell like a bird with broken wings, splashing a burst of snow and dust.

Song Qianji climbed up from the snow, and at a glance, the world is underground, and there are enemies from all directions, and the encirclement is rapidly shrinking towards him.

It seemed that everything in the world was spinning around, making him dizzy and his vision blurred.

He wiped away the bloodline around his lips, looked up at the sky and laughed at himself:

"There are so many people here, and it's not a temple fair, is it necessary?"

The same question was also asked by the person who came to kill him.

"The four great immortal sects work together to spread the net, three days and three nights, just to kill one person, isn't that a little too much?"

On the highest cloud ship in the sky, convey the will of the initiator of the action:

"Not too much, because he is Song Qianji who will never die in a hundred battles. If you give him a chance, he will make a comeback."

The monks chased him all the way until they were exhausted and suspicious of life, only then did they realize that this sentence was true.

"Song Qianji is so powerful, how can he be so good at escapism?! In three days, we failed to close the battle seven times, and he killed us all."

"Ha, do you think he was born with gold and jade? He was born as a casual cultivator. If he didn't know how to run for his life, he would have been reincarnated a long time ago!"

Song Qianji supported the ground with his sword and straightened his back.There was a faint intuition in his heart that this was the last time.

There is nowhere in the sky, and there is no way into the earth.

no way no money.

The wind is heavy and the snow is rushing, the sky is like a cage, everyone's facial features can't be seen clearly, but the expression on each face is exactly the same:

Justice is awe-inspiring, and we share the same hatred.

Proud to be able to participate in major events and contribute, and excited to witness the fall of a great power.

Song Qianji's eyes swept across the unfamiliar or familiar faces, and his expression gradually became calm.

He asked: "Where is Miaoyan? I do things by myself, so you don't have to embarrass her."

No one answered him.

For a character like Song Qianji, even if the tiger is in peace, who knows what other powerful means he has to fight before he dies.

All the monks were afraid, they stopped more than [-] zhang away, no longer approached, and only shouted at him through the snow curtain, or advised him, or cursed him.

"Hand over the clean bottle, hand over the fountain of immortality!"

"The superstar tree is about to die, this world is at the end of its existence, don't be obsessed with it!"

In the chaos, suddenly a burst of pipa sounded, noisy and earnest, like weeping and complaining, piercing the wind and snow, overwhelming the human voice, like the sound of the fairy palace descending from the mortal world.

The sound of the song was profound and contained the true meaning of Taoism. All the monks were shocked and kept silent.

The sound of people died away, and the sound of wind and snow faded away, only the sound of pipa became more and more passionate and sad, until it shook the world.

Song Qianji was slightly stunned, and murmured: "There is a prelude to the Wanjun formation. It's "The Overlord Unarmor", which is heartbreaking."

His distracted eyes flickered for a moment, passing through the crowd, shooting towards the source of the music, and shouted in a low voice:

"Miao Yan, since you are here, why don't you show up!"

Although Song Qianji was at the end of the road, between shouts, he still had the aura of looking down on the world and being invincible.

The sound of the pipa stopped abruptly like thunder.

The monks woke up like a dream.

"Fairy Miaoyan has arrived!" "Fairy Gao Yi, I want to put an end to this demon with my own hands!"

There was a commotion among the crowd, and they parted to the two sides, revealing a luxurious chariot.

A woman with five fingers like blue, gently lifted the veil.

Miao Yan hugged the pipa and stepped down from the chariot, her lotus steps moved lightly, and the white skirt and arm gauze stretched in the wind, like smoke and mist.

Many people forgot that they were on the battlefield and just stared at her obsessively.

Song Qianji said coldly, "You came to kill me too?"

Miao Yan blinked her almond eyes, and tears fell silently.

The number one beauty in the world of comprehension, well-deserved reputation.She is always so beautiful, every frown and smile seems to have calculated the best angle, without flaws.

This tear was the same, wet the slender and curled eyelashes, across the porcelain white face, and hit Song Qianji's heart lake.

He couldn't speak out from his questioning, the wounds all over his body were already numb, and suddenly there was a sharp pain in his heart.

Miao Yan's voice was soft and choked up slightly: "Qianji, I'm sorry."

The rays of magic weapons in the hands of the monks spread behind her, like a fire, and like a sunset.

Song Qianji was so tortured by the severe pain that he was in a trance, and he remembered that the day when he first saw Miaoyan was also a sunset day.

He was born in a secular town with a mortal fetus, and his childhood was poor but happy.

It wasn't until the monks of the Huawei Sect came to test the spiritual roots to accept disciples that he left his hometown and went to the country in a daze. He crowded with thousands of children and teenagers on a cloud boat and flew to an unknown destiny.

At dusk, a cluster of red light flew from the sky, passing over the cloud boat in an instant, making their faces flush.

Some children shouted in panic, the sky was on fire.The brothers who came to receive him laughed and said:

"That's the trajectory of Wu Jinche, the fairy Miaoyan. According to legend, she is the number one beauty in the cultivation world... You are too young to understand these things. If you can see her with your own eyes in the future, your life will not be in vain."

Wujinche volleyed through the clouds, leaving a light red arc, and finally disappeared at the end of the sky, where the sunset glow was the thickest.

Everyone on the deck of the cloud boat looked up, showing yearning expressions.

Song Qianji was also one of those who looked up.

When he first explored the fairyland, the curtain of the new world opened in front of his eyes, revealing a magnificent silhouette with thick ink and splendor.

Soaring through the clouds and driving through the fog, traveling thousands of miles a day, with mountains and rivers under your feet, which mortal would not be hot-headed and full of pride?

It turns out that there is something taller and more beautiful than a cloud boat in the world.The first beauty.

He thought, he don't want to be muddle-headed anymore and live a lifetime of old age, sickness and death.

To be a man is to be an immortal cultivator, and to marry a wife is to be an immortal Miaoyan!

Thousands of people have fantasized about it.Unlike other daydreaming teenagers, Song Qianji really did it.

He was a useless fake spiritual root, failed to enter the inner sect, refused to go down the mountain, and worked hard for several years in the outer sect.Later, in order to compete for a place in the inner sect, he was framed and sentenced to death. He fled all the way and did casual cultivation.

Loose cultivators have no one to rely on, anyone can step on them, and when they meet the enemy on a narrow road, they can only be more cunning and more ruthless than anyone else.

He ventured into the Dead Mountain six times, killed the Blood River Valley seven times, explored the secret realm of the Dead Sea eighth, and survived nine deaths.

Fengshui turns and turns, and a hundred years is fleeting. Song Qianji survived a hundred battles and was promoted to the power of transforming gods.

Hua Weizong, who had ordered him to be hunted down, turned from prosperity to decline, and came to ask him for forgiveness.

Fairy Miaoyan, who treated him with no pretense, fixed a date of marriage with him, and treated him tenderly.

The suzerains and elders of the various sects despised his background as a casual cultivator in their hearts, but on the surface they respected him and feared him, and scrambled to recruit him as a guest.

Status, power, wealth, beauties, what fate did not give him, he snatched it himself.

Song Qianji's life finally ushered in a bright moment, but the fate of the world of cultivating immortals and even the entire human race was just the opposite.

A catastrophe is about to come.

In the past year, the aura of heaven and earth has been exhausted day by day, with frequent earthquakes, mountains and tsunamis, all monks are deeply terrified.

At the end of the continent, the "giant tree" supporting the sky is dying.If the root system of the sky tree is broken and the crown dies, the continent will crack and the sky will collapse.

Song Qianji has just reached the top after going through all kinds of hardships. Before enjoying it for a long time, the world is about to end?

He refused to agree to this.He wants to save the world.

Those who are stronger than him are still retreating, and those who are weaker than him have no ability to make a difference.

So he called on all monks of the sect to let go of old grievances, abandon previous suspicions, and tide over the difficulties together.

He rummaged through the ancient books, revisited the ancient secrets, and sought the way to save the world.Hard work paid off, he explored the depths of the Dead Sea alone, found a powerful "spring of immortality", and stored it in a clean bottle made by himself.

This is the last hope to save the Supertree, and it is also the last turning point in the fate of the human race.

When the situation was at its worst, everyone regarded Song Qianji as the savior, and only he followed suit.

Once there is a way out, and the forces of all parties have their own ideas, people start to fear him again and speculate on his motives.

Rumors started out of nowhere. It was rumored that Song Qianji would use the spring of immortality in a clean bottle to create a small world of his own, and be the creator and ruler in it, regardless of life or death in this world.

"Song Qianji, relying on himself as a loose cultivator, has always been a loner and acted recklessly. How could he be willing to compromise his cultivation to find the Spring of Immortality, without expecting anything in return, just to save the world?"

"Yes, he got what he is today by using unscrupulous means. I have long felt that he has malicious intentions and other schemes. We have all been used, and we are all his pawns."

People panic, from doubt to anger.

Coupled with the fact that someone with a heart is adding fuel to the fire and setting up a situation to provoke, there is this unprecedented chase and siege, and the entire cultivation world is united unprecedentedly, shouting the slogan:

"Kill Song Qianji, seize the fountain of immortality, and save the world and yourself!"

Song Qianji's nerves were sharp, and he had already noticed some signs before the matter developed to the point of no return.

He has not recovered from his injuries from crossing the Dead Sea. The best choice is to hand over the clean bottle, which can not only cleanse himself, show that he has no selfishness, but also relieve the burden and recuperate.

But no matter who the magic weapon of salvation is given to, he doesn't believe it.He only believes in himself.

He ran with his sword, smashed through the siege, and wanted to go to the supernatural tree at the end of the mainland to complete this task with his own hands.

It's a pity that the success failed and was intercepted in the snow field, and listened to half of "The Overlord Disarms His Armor".

Seeing that Song Qianji was deep in thought and silent, Miao Yan took a deep breath and said loudly to everyone: "As long as you hand over the clean bottle to me, I will swear with my Dao heart to protect your life! Who wants to kill you today?" You are my enemy."

"Who taught you to say this?" Song Qianji looked up at the sky, seeing those flying instruments still high above, and couldn't help laughing: "When will I need others to protect my life?"

The hot blood in the wound had already solidified, no matter how unwilling and dissatisfied he was, he just felt it was funny.

What a joke.

So Song Qianji looked up to the sky and laughed, his voice reverberated and trembled, and snow fell from the cliffs in the distance.

"I've done all the tricks in my life, people don't believe me, I don't believe people, I've come to this point, it's all my own fault, no one blames... However, I have a clear conscience for the act of saving the world. !"

He vomited blood while laughing, and the blood soaked his robe, which was tragic and frightening.

He was naturally handsome, but now his face was pale, his thin lips were stained with blood, and his black hair and black robe fluttered around, giving him a cold, stern and soul-stirring beauty.

All the monks took a few steps back at the same time, feeling a little inexplicably depressed, unwilling or unable to bear to look at him.

Miao Yan burst into tears like a spring, but stopped talking.

Song Qianji smiled, and his expression became gentle.

"I thought that if I had strength, I would be able to stand at the top, and if I had the spring of immortality, I would be able to save the supernatural tree. I was wrong. The way to survive disasters is not in magic weapons, not in cultivation. I failed today, only the In the heart."

"After I die, the world will be in chaos. My inheritance of Taoism is hidden in exile, go find it. Troubled times create heroes, and I hope there will be one person who will save the building from falling, and do what the people want!"

Miao Yan's complexion changed suddenly, she forgot her manners, and screamed: "No!"

Before the words were finished, there was a loud bang that shook the heavens and the earth, and the dazzling light illuminated half of the sky.

Song Qianji blew himself up and died.

His cultivation all his life turned into an auspicious snowfall, descending on the earth, and benefiting the common people.

Three days and nights of chasing and killing, and three days and nights for Xueluo.When the sky is clear and the air is clear, the lingering sound seems to be still lingering in the world——

"What the people want, do your part."

***

Song Qianji thought that death was nothing, but after the severe pain, he still felt that his consciousness existed.

Darkness, emptiness, without boundaries and time.Is this the afterlife, or is he not dead?

A cold voice sounded, hitting my mind like an electric current:

"Song Qianji's heroic life never ended well. On his way into exile, he hid his rich inheritance in the vast snowy sea, which became Wei Zhenyu's first step to climb the fairy road. The journey of the world-saving hero Wei Zhenyu, from now on..."

Song Qianji: "Wait?"

The cold voice paused: "Can you hear me?"

Song Qianji: "...Shouldn't I listen?"

The voice was stuttering: "It seems that it is not very appropriate. This is the first time someone is talking to me."

Song Qianji had seen many big scenes after all, so he forced himself to be calm: "Are you the way of heaven?"

"No, I am the narrator. The essence of this world is a story. I am the narrator of the story. Can you understand?"

Song Qianji was silent.

The dead tool man and the invisible narrator are relatively speechless.

Song Qianji thought, this "narration" is not a person or a thing, it should be some kind of spiritual existence, the words are similar to the perspective of a bystander, and it is similar to his current situation, so how to test it... No, I am dead, nothing more What can be lost, what are you afraid of.

He carelessly asked: "What's the situation now?! Even if it's a story, what will happen after I die?"

The narrator was taken aback by him, and whispered, "You should see for yourself."

Countless twilight lights lit up, and if you look closely, you can see familiar and unfamiliar pictures, converging into a long river of brilliance, rushing past him.

Song Qianji saw countless fragments of the future.

When he was alive, people didn't believe him. When he really gave up and died cleanly, everyone remembered him again and attacked each other under the banner of revenge for him.

The low-level monks and mortals were miserable, and took his last words as a prophecy, waiting for a "savior" to appear.

When the catastrophe was approaching, a monk named Wei Zhenyu stepped forward, found the inheritance left by Song Qianji, turned the world around, saved the supernatural tree, ended the catastrophe in the world, then ascended to a high position, married Miaoyan, and enjoyed the fireworks of all people , daylight soars.

Song Qianji stood in front of the long river of time, from shock, to anger, to silence.

His first reaction was, ten years after his death, why is the number one beauty still Miao Yan?

The aesthetics of the comprehension world is too unprogressive.

The second reaction was, where did this Wei Zhenyu come from?

When he was alive, this person was unknown.After his death, this person's reputation suddenly rose, and his fortune was condensed in his body. When he went out, there would be treasures, and he didn't have to.This guy is not called "Savior", he should be called "King of Leaks".

Song Qianji couldn't help swearing.

The narrator advised him: "Be civilized. There can only be one protagonist in the world. All other beings are here to provide him with life experience. You are a good prop."

Song Qianji: "I've spent my whole life just to make a prop?"

Narrator: "How many people want to make props, but they still can't get it!"

Song Qianji calmed down his anger: "Forget it, don't watch it, everything is gone, send me to reincarnate quickly."

The narrator said weakly: "I'm sorry, in this story, there is no such setting as 'reincarnate'. I can't do it. Since you can't walk by yourself, let's make do with each other."

Song Qianji shook his sleeves angrily: "Who wants to live with you!"

……

Not long after, Song Qianji changed his tune.

He slumped on the brocade fur soft couch, knocked melon seeds, ate snacks, and ordered the narrator: "More fruit, grapes, lychees, and cherries. I want them chilled."

What is not set, the narration cannot do.But "food and clothing expenses" are set, and the narration is easy to do.

In addition, there are countless stories to watch in the long river of time, and there are narrations to chat and brag.

Once he accepts this setting, life will be so easy, even if he is allowed to ascend to become a god, he will not change it.

I have watched a lot, even if I see myself in the past, it is like reading other people's stories, not only does not feel distressed, but also mercilessly ridiculed.

I saw the 13-year-old "Song Qianji" who refused to pay the protection fee for the outer sect and was beaten to the ground like a dog and spit blood.

"You are sick. Who wants you to have a hard head? How many heads do you have?"

I saw that the 14-year-old "Song Qianji" was cheated out of all his wealth because he didn't know what to do.

"Stupid to miss you. If it's your turn to pick up a good thing, just because your face is whiter than others?"

Seeing that the 15-year-old "Song Qianji" has faded from his clumsy and innocent appearance, he invited his companions to come to the cliff to enjoy the moon and talk heart-to-heart.

The night was dark and the wind was high, and the abyss was endless. He gritted his teeth and stretched out his hand to his companion's back, trembling uncontrollably.

Song Qianji, who was eating melon seeds, scolded: "You are smart! The quota for entering the inner sect is determined by default. If he is missing, it will not be your turn. If you push him away, you will be in endless trouble in the future. You can only go one way to the dark, and you can't go back. head!"

He spoke excitedly, and subconsciously stretched out his hand, trying to stop him.

Fingertips pierced through the screen, the entire long river trembled violently, and countless broken screens rotated and turned into a huge vortex, under the hood.

Song Qianji felt short of breath and dizzy.

Open your eyes again.The soft couch is gone, the melons and fruits are gone, and the narration is gone.The long-lost evening wind blew through his forehead, he heard the sound of waves in the forest, and smelled the smell of grass, trees and soil.

"Ah!!" The companion boy fell rapidly to the bottom of the cliff, screaming miserably.

And he stood on the edge of the cliff, still maintaining his original posture of reaching out and pushing people, and his complicated and tangled expression.

This was Song Qianji's first stepping stone on his long journey to immortality.

The stars all over the sky looked down on him coldly, and the bottomless abyss stared at him, watching him start from here and embark on a road of no return cast by blood and fire.

Song Qianji came back to his senses in horror, looked around in panic, and cursed at the sky: "Damn!"

He leapt into the abyss.