The faster the pace and the closer you walk, the more you can hear the sound of people coming from the top of the mountain, so the more you hurry to the road.

If he runs slowly, Qinglian is killed by that Xiao Gongzi, and Yang Jian will be in trouble!

To put it mildly, it will only leave some regrets, and you can't punish the enemy;

But to put it more seriously, this is against the heart, so that your thoughts can't be smooth, maybe nothing now, it will inevitably affect your own progress to the peak in the future!

If it's really too late, Yang Jian is afraid that he will also have to find that Xiao Gongzi to think about it!

Walking like a fly, Yang Jian rushed to a wide stone staircase, which was full of messy footprints and many damage left by the battle, which happened not long ago.

The shouting, cheering, and roaring of fighting is ahead!

It's just two leaps, and the figure rises like an arrow into the sky!

Qinglian!

Brother is here!

This should have been the words when I couldn't wait to see my sweetheart, but at this time it became a cry for revenge from the enemy.

Sou!

Yang Jian rushed all the way to the height of the mountaintop platform ten zhang high, but found that there were two more people in his eyes like dark clouds, black and oppressive.

A group of people flew in the air, either with all kinds of flying magic weapons, or with their own cultivation to stand in the air, almost more than a hundred people.

A group of people piled up on the side of the entrance to the summit square at the end of the stone steps, and there were probably no less than a thousand people standing in the black press, and the boiling voices came from this group of people.

Yang Jian just rushed to the height between these two groups of people, and could see that in the practice ground of the Pingtian Sword Gate, there were two figures in the air, bombarding each other with magic weapons.

It was precisely because the magic weapon was too big for the two people that it directly covered up Yang Jian's movements.

Yang Jian doesn't have the ability to float in the air, and the second level of the Eight or Nine Xuangong can't use the magic weapon yet.

He fell straight to the ground, and then rushed towards the crowd in front of him in a bit of a hurry.

And even if someone saw him in the air, he regarded it as a casual cultivator who came to join in the fun and help the fist, and few people looked at him a few times.

Most of the things piled up on the ground and flying on them were not because of Xiao Gongzi's words, and they came here to trouble the Pingtian Sword Gate?

"Ahem, let me go. ”

Yang Jian said with a little embarrassment at the back of the crowd.

The two guys who were tiptoeing to see the excitement turned their heads and glanced at him, and scolded a little impatiently: "Find another place to go yourself!

"Do you understand the rules of the monks! I think you are the way to die, little brother!"

Yang Jian pursed his lips, raised his hand and grabbed the collars of the two, and didn't dare to use too much force, so he gently picked up the two and put them behind him.

Then he took a big step, and his arm reached into the gap between the two people in front of him, and with such a slight flick, a big step appeared in front of him.

The monks glared angrily at Yang Jian, but before they could scold their words, they stiffly held back.

Originally, they didn't feel anything when they were pulled and dragged away, but when they looked behind and from the side, they could see that Yang Jian was like a cloud of water, and his movements did not pause at all.

Most of the casual cultivators can live for a long time, they can control their mouths well, and they have a sensitive perception of danger.

Although Yang Jian's body did not have a cold murderous aura, there was a fighting intent that made these people tremble......

What's more, Yang Jian also kept saying:

"I'm tired of borrowing a light. ”

"Thank you. ”

"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry. ”

These words of apology also gave these monks face.

Yang Jian was like a palm that crossed the gap in the middle of the curtain, and effortlessly squeezed to the front of the group of people on the ground, and his eyes began to stare at the two people fighting in the field.

One of them was the Qinglian Fairy, and at this time, she used a white long sword to suppress an old man holding a blood-colored banner, and she was already in her hands.

It just so happened that when she fought this one, she would play the next one.

The last figure, Yang Jian shouted inertly: "I'm tired, I'm in a bit of a hurry." ”

The back of his hand touched the arm of the old man in a green robe.

The old man was originally plain, and there was no terrible aura, but when the back of Yang Jian's hand gently patted his arm, the old man was like an unsheathed sword, and a sharp and cold aura locked Yang Jian.

Yang Jian was stunned for a moment and looked at it levelly;

The old man also turned his head slightly and looked at Yang Jian;

The two looked at each other, and the old man's old eyes had a very strong sense of warning, and his legs seemed to be rooted, and he didn't move at all.

And the apology in Yang Jian's eyes...... It's quite rich, too.

With two percent of the force in his hand, the old man was caught off guard by Yang Jian's afterburner, and the whole person was pushed sideways by one foot, and Yang Jian walked sideways to the front.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry. Uh, how can there be a chair?"

Yang Jian stopped, just standing where the old man was originally standing.

The handsome young man sitting on the chair also looked behind him at this time, and found that when the old man was gone, his little face suddenly turned white, and his pupils subconsciously contracted.

But Yang Jian saw that there was still a big gap next to the chair, so he squeezed another person next to him and stepped directly into the open space in the field.

"How daring!" the old man in Tsing Yi came back to his senses at this time.

What's going on?

He was pushed away by this young man just now?

He's a real ...... What about it, it was pushed away casually by a little monk who couldn't feel half of his breath?

If this young man came to assassinate his own little son, then didn't he make way for the killer because of his carelessness!

The old man in Tsing Yi was about to shout violently, but the only man in the field who had a chair to sit on shouted in a low voice: "Uncle Wu!"

The old man in Tsing Yi was not an ordinary monk, so he suddenly calmed down, and stood behind the boy vigilantly, his eyes locked on Yang Jian.

And Yang Jian, at this time, didn't care about it at all, took two steps forward, and his eyes were locked on the Qinglian Fairy.

The anger in his eyes ignited, and then gradually extinguished, turning into coldness.

But my heart is hot, but there is a fighting spirit!

"Good!"

A group of scattered cultivators suddenly applauded, but it was because Qinglian's sword pierced the blood-colored long flag, and they had already occupied the biggest advantage.

Most of these casual cultivators are to join in the fun, to come to the mysterious Xiao Gongzi to get acquainted with each other, and ask for an opportunity, it is not the absolute opposite position of the Pingtian Sword Sect, so it is also a temperamental move to cheer for Qinglian at this time.

Yang Jian: What's good, that Qinglian evil lady is obviously a little stronger than her opponent, and she is a ruthless master, why don't you win?

Suddenly, his heart throbbed, and there seemed to be an ancient beast watching him behind him, as if he was about to swallow himself.

Yang Jian couldn't help but turn his head to look at it, and suddenly found that it was the old man he had just pushed.

Alas, he was busy rushing over, but he also collided with the other party, and he could only push away with two percent of his strength, so he must also be a great monk, so he should not hold a grudge.

"I was a little anxious just now, sorry. Yang Jian squeezed a smile that was more ugly than crying.

The old man snorted, looked at Yang Jian again, and after finding that there was nothing unusual, he could only blush and stagger his gaze.

He couldn't deal with a mortal monk.

Yang Jian glanced at the handsome boy in the seat a few more times, and the handsome boy was also looking at him.

The boy sat there smiling and nodded, taking advantage of the time when the applause around him subsided, and asked simply: "Come here for this beauty?"

"Hmm," Yang Jian nodded solemnly.

"Wonderful, wonderful," the boy shook his head and exclaimed, if this kind of action is done by others, it must be very contrived.

But this handsome boy made it very natural and comfortable to watch.

"Dare to ask your name?"

Yang Jian replied: "I don't dare to be famous, my name is Yang Jian." Then he turned and looked into the air.

He didn't ask the name of this son, so naturally he didn't mean to make friends.

And the boy smiled and shook his head, and there was an extra folding fan in his hand out of thin air, and he gently slapped the palm of his hand, as if talking to himself......

"Humanity is a curse, how do you know that she is deeply affectionate. When the beauty sect overturned, she came to support without hesitation, and she was really priceless and temperamental. ”

When this son spoke and commented on Yang Jian, the mid-air fighting method also had results.

The owner of the long banner was pierced by a sword shadow, and he was about to fall from the sky if he was seriously injured.

There were seven or eight figures above Yang Jian's head who were about to move forward immediately, and on the side of the Pingtian Sword Gate, Fu Dongliu also shouted loudly: "Little junior sister, show mercy under the sword!

But that Qinglian snorted coldly, and it intensified, giving birth to dozens of sword shadows, blasting towards the owner of the blood banner!

The shadow of the sword was stained with blood, and the blood banner and its owner, like two rags, slowly fell in the air.

"Uncle!"

"Damn the Pingtian Sword Gate!

"Master!"

There was a cry in the crowd, and the group of loose cultivators who had been cheering before were also silent at this time, and the air was very oppressive.

"This is also a little vicious!"

"The Poison Sword Fairy really lives up to its reputation, and it seems that there will be a big battle today. ”

"I'd better not wade into this troubled water. ”

This group of loose cultivators was obviously shocked, and in the air, the monks from other sects were also silent, and a few people wanted to rush up and fight with Qing Lian, but they were held by the same sect.

Yang Jian looked at the fairy in the air, she was like a fairy in feathers, her long sword was stained with blood, and her eyes were level at the sky, like a beautiful sword, standing between heaven and earth, proud of the sky.

The sword bone, the sword body, the mighty thousand heroes.

I heard the little boy laugh and said: "This beautiful fairy is also powerful, decisive in killing, and a talent." ”

Yang Jian nodded when he heard this.

In fact, to be honest, a ruthless person like Qinglian is more suitable for living in the world of monks.

Compared with her, Yang Jian is also inferior in terms of temperament, and is more like a mortal with joys, sorrows, and sorrows.

But what's wrong with a mortal heart?

A person who pursues the so-called detachment of the state of mind, but also falls into the inferior.

He is Yang Jian, who is destined not to be an ordinary monk, the road is different, and he can't comment on it.

The Qinglian Fairy lightly opened her thin lips, and just said, "Who else?" and the group of scattered cultivators were speechless.

The little man who was the only one sitting frowned, looked at an old man in gray robe on the left, and was about to signal the old man to make a move to suppress the woman, but he heard a chuckle coming from the front......

Yang Jian stepped forward and walked into the field.

The spirit is unharmed, and Qing Lian can't bring him half a sense of crisis at this time;

And the battle intent in his heart burned, until he was about to melt the solid ice standing in mid-air.

"I, the First Fight. ”