The eldest grandson looked at him, and then, unusually resolutely, shook his head, and said, "I won't go."

Li Cunxiao's tone was like an autumn wind, as cold as autumn water, and then, with a long sigh, said: Why don't you leave, I don't need anyone to accompany me at all.

He looked at the black-sheathed sword inserted in his left rib, and then at the pale hand holding the sword, the blue veins beating slightly, like a hibernating snake.

A dead leaf suddenly fell softly, right on his hand.

His harvest shook slightly, his eyes fixed on the leaf, and his lonely face had no life, like a tree about to wither.

But there was a trace of confusion in his originally clear eyes, and in the confusion, he seemed to hear a cry from a distant time and space.

It's the cry of a baby.

In that distant time and space, it was also a late autumn season.

A baby was thrown into the wilderness, wrapped in a thick cotton cloth, and its ruddy face had been frozen by the autumn wind whiter than the fish on the cutting board.

However, the baby seemed to realize his misfortune, and only stubbornly tightened his mouth, trying not to let it grieve too much.

He tried his best not to cry, not to turn to this desolate and cruel world, but the cold, hunger, and thirst forced him to cry out loud with all his last strength.

The baby's cry was immediately drowned out by the boundless autumn mood.

The cold sky suddenly retracted the last rays of sunlight, and his face was gloomy, staring at the lonely baby abandoned in the wilderness with a sly and cruel gaze.

The autumn wind, the clouds overhead, as if they were also gloating, as if to say, who is this iniquity, irresponsibly seeking pleasure, without human beastly behavior,

Come, child, sad child, miserable child, let the world have less hatred and more grievances, and go to sleep quietly,

Let helplessness become your wings, let happiness always accompany you, hurry up and go to sleep, your eyes are closed, there is no pain, no sorrow.

The baby seemed to understand the language that came from the clouds, from hell.

Gradually, he closed his eyes and opened a pair of angelic hands, as if he wanted to embrace the whole world and say goodbye to this world he did not yet know.

At this moment, it was as if he was standing on top of the clouds.

The baby's white body was illuminated by the dawn from heaven, he no longer felt cold, he no longer felt hunger and thirst, and God's merciful hand painted the most beautiful picture in the world on him.

He was so excited that he cried out to a strange sound that even he himself felt.

A group of immortals from heaven also gathered around him, their beautiful faces full of surprise, and they stretched out their beautiful hands one by one, scrambling to hug him and kiss him.

However, he didn't know who to throw himself into or who to hug.

He tried to find a familiar face among them, a pair of small hands that he could recognize at a glance, but he was disappointed.

Everything was foreign to him, and he simply couldn't find something familiar.

He began to feel a boundless fear, and a chill that pierced his heart began to rush over him again, through his tender skin, and into his childish heart.

He suddenly trembled with fear, and then, suddenly, in front of his eyes, there was a darkness, and the fairies were gone, and the soft light of God was gone, and only an ugly man remained.

The man, whose long hair covered his face, was as cold as a stone that had just been dug out of hell, looked at him silently, as if he could swallow him at any moment.

The baby was completely surrounded by fear and could not resist, so he had to guide him step by step towards the boundless darkness.

As soon as he walked through the closed dark door, he would fall into an endless cycle of reincarnation.

Suddenly, a light, as fast as lightning, pierced the darkness and blinded him.

Suddenly, he saw a sword faster than lightning split open the huge dark door and pull him back, and the sound of running water suddenly sounded around the silence.

The cotton cloth that wrapped the baby was re-wrapped, and the autumn wind could no longer blow in.

He felt a trickle of warmth slowly poured from this man's chest into his soft body, like goose plush, like his mother's warm embrace.

When the baby opened his eyes again, he saw a face that was boundless and arrogant and extremely happy, this was the face of the world's fastest sword and sword thirty.

And the baby who was about to freeze to death was Li Cunxiao.

The baby's dream, he still remembers vividly.

For a long time, he thought that the baby was dead, and that he should not be that baby, that he was born a sin, and who wants to be such a sin?

But if he wasn't the baby, who was he?

More than once he questioned himself in his heart, venting his inner anguish with all kinds of tortures, and after a thousand times and ten thousand tortures, he got a very strange disease.

Once his heart is too sad, he will suffer severe pain, lose all will and courage, and make the world's fastest sword almost become a waste.

At this time, to kill him is as easy as brushing a dead leaf off a branch.

However, Li Cunxiao is not a withered leaf, he is the fastest sword in the world, and he is a life-seeking Tsing Yi.

And those who want to kill him and become famous in one fell swoop often leave a little residual red on their throats, strong, like poppies that have just bloomed.

Perhaps, they don't know that even if Li Cunxiao is asleep, his heart will be awake because of pain, and as long as his heart is still awake, his sword will not fall asleep.

Because his sword is the fastest sword in the world.

And at this moment, the world's fastest sword was inserted into his left rib.

In another month, it will be October 15th.

October 15 is the day of the duel between Li Cunxiao and Burial Sword Island.

It has long been rumored in the rivers and lakes that as long as Li Cunxiao's world's fastest sword shot by Li Cunxiao, then the Burial Sword Island will disappear from the rivers and lakes from now on.

Because one mountain does not tolerate two tigers, and in the same river and lake, there is absolutely no room for two fast swords.

If there is only one sword in the rivers and lakes in the end, then everyone believes that the sword that survives must be the iron sword of Tsing Yi.

For this is the sword of the sword of the thirty.

However, Li Cunxiao clearly knew that the sword that could survive in the end must be the sword of Burial Sword Island.

He clearly knew that his current mentality was definitely not the opponent of Burial Sword Island, so in the end, it must be him who lost his life.

Tsing Yi usually asks for his life from others, but now someone can finally ask for his life.

He was an orphan, and when he came to this world, he was destined to be alone.

Born alone, and then, died alone, no friends, and the only loved one has died, so you want to be lonely anymore.

And the only way is to die quickly.

When you go down to Jiuquan and be with your father, you won't be lonely.

Also, he wanted to meet his biological parents, and he really wanted to ask them in person why they gave birth to him in the first place if they didn't want him.

After being tormented by loneliness and pain, not only did he not become stronger, but he became more vulnerable, and the fragile was already vulnerable, because he had nothing to rely on.