The man in white waved his hand, picked up the rag placed on the derrick, carefully wiped his clean and good-looking hands, and said, "Mr. Song, don't say that."

Song Qiuli suddenly felt that a heavy aura was slowly diffusing from the body of the man in white, pressing him almost out of breath.

Song Qiuli still had a calm face, looked at him, and said, "Wouldn't I die without you?"

The man in white put the rag back on the derrick, and then, suddenly, laughed, and said lightly: Mr. Song, without me, you will really die.

His smile was clean and clear, like the bucket of water that had just been drawn from a well.

However, Song Qiuli clearly felt that there was an invisible murderous aura hidden in his smile, and the murderous aura on his almost flawless hands was even heavier.

Hearing this, I don't know why, Song Qiuli's hand carrying the wooden barrel suddenly trembled, and he almost didn't splash the water on the legs of the man in white, and said, "Oh?

However, the reason why his hands are shaking is not because he is afraid, but because he has been with green vegetables for a long time, and now he finally meets the inexplicable excitement of the master.

It's like the excitement that people with a penchant for blood have when they smell blood.

The man in white slowly pulled his clean and good-looking hands into his sleeve, and in his sleeve hid a gentle, thin, almost transparent knife.

His hand was holding the short knife tightly, and he could even feel goosebumps already popping up on his skin, which was also the inexplicable excitement before meeting the master.

However, he was still smiling, smiling beautifully, like his hand, and said softly: I know, your surname is Song, and when you came in twenty years ago, everyone called you Song Qiuli.

However, no one knows your details, no one knows, where you come from, who you are taught by, and where you live, everyone just knows that since Song Qiuli appeared in the rivers and lakes, he has become a celebrity.

Since your sword doesn't seem to have met an opponent so far, everyone is curious and guessing where you came from.

At that time, he was just an ignorant toddler who had just learned to hold a sword, and although he admired Mr. very much, he really had no chance to meet, and he was not qualified to compete with Mr., but now he could finally see Mr. Respect, and it was a great honor.

There was already a strong murderous aura on his body, but his smile was still bright, like a rare autumn sun.

Hearing this, Song Qiuli's face suddenly showed a sad look, as if he was unaware of the murderous aura of these white-clothed people, and said lightly:

However, I have been here for 20 years, and 20 years is not a long time, but it is enough to change a lot of things.

Although the attitude of the man in white was still so respectful and his tone was still so calm, there was already a slight sweat in his palms, but he still nodded and said:

You're right, twenty years can change a lot of things, but some things never change, such as your sword.

Song Qiuli looked up at the gray sky, suddenly put down the wooden barrel, took a long breath, and said, "Look, isn't the air here very fresh?"

The clouds were light, the wind was light, and every time I lay down, I could almost hear the rapeseed breaking through the ground, and it was hard to describe what a wonderful sound it was.

Now, all I know is that I am a vegetable grower, and the most important thing to do every day is to water them, and I have forgotten all about the rest.

Although his words were very soft, there was already a slight sweat on the forehead of the man in white, and the expression on his face suddenly became serious, and he said:

Of course you have forgotten, and you want everyone to forget your past, but there is one person who will never forget, and he will not dare to forget.

Since the sword thirty buried on the shore of the sword Luoshui Lake, after Bai Qingyi traveled all over the world, that person's greatest wish is to see you, although that person uses a knife, but he really wants to try whether your sword is fast, or his knife is fast.

Hearing this, Song Qiuli suddenly smiled.

Although his smile is also very good-looking, his smile is full of vicissitudes, like the sunshine drifting down on a windy and rainy day, with a hint of desolation in the warmth.

Then, he looked at the man in white and said in a deep voice: Who is this person?

The eyes of the man in white suddenly became misty and empty, and the hands in the sleeves seemed to be clenched tighter, and then, softly, he exhaled and said, "Xiang Fang."

Song Qiuli soaked his rough hands in the water of the wooden barrel, washed them, and then wiped his dripping hands with the hem of his clothes, and said coldly: I haven't heard of this name.

The man in white has been staring at this series of actions he has made.

He found that although Song Qiuli's hands were rough, although he had not held a sword for twenty years, his hands were still stable, and Mount Tai collapsed forward without changing, and muttered: You also have a pair of beautiful hands.

Song Qiuli sat down on the railing next to the well platform, like an old country man basking in the sun in the corner of the wall after work, looked at him, and said lightly: Whether the knife is fast or not, it is not just that the hands holding the knife are not beautiful.

The man in white sneered, and suddenly his hands were so beautiful that they were almost flawless from his sleeves.

In his beautiful hands, which were almost flawless, of course, he still held the gentle, thin, almost completely transparent knife, and said coldly: However, a pair of beautiful hands can also pierce Song Qiuli's chest with one sword.

Song Qiuli didn't move.

He just flicked the mud on the sole of his shoe lightly with his fingers, and then, raising his head, staring at the beautiful hands of the man in white, the thin knife, laughed, and said:

This is indeed a very beautiful hand, this is indeed a very fast knife, if you can kill Song Qiuli twenty years ago with one knife, then, if you want to kill Song Qiuli twenty years later, I am afraid it will take at least three knives.

The short knife of the man in white suddenly came out of its sheath, refracting a clear light like a lake in the sun, pointing at Song Qiuli and saying with a smile: Xiang Fangzheng has this intention.

Song Qiuli stood up suddenly, and then, walking straight in front of the big bucket, lifting it with one hand, raising it, and said in a deep voice to the man in white: It seems that I really want to hand over this bucket to you now.

Xiang Fang's hand holding the knife did not move, still maintaining its original posture, although Song Qiuli was no longer in front of his knife, and said coldly: Why should I take your bucket now?

Song Qiuli looked at this still green vegetable patch, a strange light suddenly appeared in his eyes, and said lightly: Because from now on, you are the only slave here, who will water if you don't water?

Xiang Fang still maintained his original posture and said with a smile: However, I only owe one or two taels of silver to the Golden Villa, and from now on, I am free.

Song Qiuli's face suddenly darkened, carrying a wooden bucket, and watering a little on each vegetable, but still bypassing the dried cabbage, sighed, and said: In this way, this vegetable field will be barren.

I don't know where the wind will blow from the white clothes in the direction, hunting sounds, green vegetable fields, blue sky, white clothes, forming a very strange scenery.

Xiang Fang smiled: However, a barren land is better than a land with a dead man lying down, the land is barren and can be reclaimed, but if a person dies, he cannot be resurrected again.

Song Qiuli suddenly burst out laughing, scooped out a spoonful of water from the bucket, and splashed it in the air, as if it had rained.

However, the raindrops in the sky suddenly turned into countless sharp swords and flew all over the sky, but when they were about to hit the still verdant greens on the ground, they suddenly turned into raindrops.

Before the raindrops had fallen, his people were gone.

When the water droplets fell from the sky, the cabbage, which had not been watered for a long time, finally got a few drops of water, and for it, these few drops of water were like a rain.

It seems to have come back to life.

Is it because from now on it will be replaced by a waterer, and it can finally be free?