One

Li Chonglou walked in the sun. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

At noon in June, the sun was blazing and burning almost everything on the trail.

The dust and sand raised by the hot wind rubbed against Li Chonglou's iron-like resolute face, glowing red.

He carried a felt hat wrapped in a white-washed cloak, soaked with sweat, running down his arms and wetting the hilt of his sword through his fingers.

What he held in his hand was a black broad-edged heavy sword, like a guillotine used by a medicine maker to cut medicinal herbs, the blade sharpened by a hard stone into a rough frost blade, enough to cut through the thick copper rod of the arm without damaging it in the slightest. He began to practice the swordsmanship of his family at the age of eight, and he was conceited to be a first-class player in the Central Plains Dart Game where the master was like a cloud, so he asked the head of the dart to get the important task of betting heavy darts into the imperial capital Tianzhong this time.

With the Central Plains Dart Bureau and his reputation of "heavy sword without clumsiness", the road was calm, I thought that I could successfully reach Tianzhong and deliver safely, and then when I held the beauty in Xunfang Lou and drank the lotus white wine produced by Yujingfang, he suddenly felt the danger and met the master.

Masters like never before.

When he was about to invest in the store, he found that everyone in the store was covered with a layer of mystery that was not easy to detect, and the food and drink sent by the store man were mixed with faint drugs, and the bed he slept on was also touched by people who could not detect his hands and feet. Even the air he breathes carries a kind of demonic that makes people crazy, exploding, and uncontrollable. He's crazy, he's crazy, he's thirsty, he's sleepy.

He wanted to give up everything, go to the gazebo to drink a bowl of freshly drawn well water, and gnaw on the parched pimple of pickles.

But no.

That smell of danger is getting stronger and stronger.

Approaching closer and closer, it was as if it was soaked with sweat, and the dark cloak was tightly wrapped around its body.

He mustered his sword, and beckoned his men to watch over the twelve carts, while he himself kept an eye out for all the pedestrians around him, every bird that passed over his head, even every trace of unusual wind, every grain of sand striking his eyes, and the neighing of chickens, crows, dogs, and horses within a radius of ten miles.

This is a secluded ancient road, where bandits and the self-proclaimed "messengers of the gods" haunt the Tianyi cultists, who, under the guise of robbing the rich and helping the poor, upholding justice, and saving the common people, ask passing merchants to show a small respect to the leader or god.

And this "small respect" is enough to make the merchant lose his pants.

Li Chonglou didn't want to be pants, he didn't want to lose his job, and he didn't want his "heavy sword without edge" signboard to smash on this ancient road, so he had to gamble all his self-esteem and pride to send this dart safely to the owner of the imperial capital.

This trip was a batch of red and white goods that had just been transported back from the West and had been transported back from the West by the big boss of the imperial capital Yujingfang, which was entrusted by the big boss of the imperial capital Yujingfang, with a value of more than 100,000 gold baht.

The sun was due south, and the sky was almost hot, scorching all the spirits in the world.

Li Chonglou lifted the bamboo hat upward, lifted the corner of the cloak, wiped the sweat on his forehead, beads of sweat, and then came out along the pores.

The whole body is to be roasted dry.

He looked up at the big red fireball in the sky, and finally felt that he needed to find a place to escape the heat, but the heavy sword in his hand suddenly moved, sizzling...... It is like the sound of a poisonous snake sticking out its tongue to follow the enemy when it passes through the grass.

Li Chonglou's face changed.

The iron right hand clenched the heavy sword, and the left hand was raised, and he gestured to the dart master who was following closely behind, and said, "There is a strange thing, you take care of the dart cart." ”

The well-trained dart master immediately formed a circle around the dart cart, and surrounded the horses and mules on the outside of the dart cart, with the head rushing out and the buttocks rushing in, and then, with a face towel to protect the eyes against the wind and sand, pull out the crossbow at the waist, push the arrow on the wind, observe the surrounding movements, and prepare for a counterattack at any time.

-- Their posture of being in such a tight position, let alone a person, would be shot into a hedgehog if a grasshopper suddenly sprang out of the grass.

Then, little by little, time passed.

After about a cup of tea, there was no movement.

The wind is still blowing.

There was still sand being lifted by the wind.

Li Chonglou frowned, took off the face towel that covered the wind and sand, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and gently stroked the heavy sword that was clinging to his left rib, and muttered to himself: "Is it because I'm too sensitive, or is my sword too sensitive." Then he smiled bitterly, patted the scabbard, and said, "Hey, old man, you're joking big enough." Brothers, it's okay, get ready to go!"

But as soon as the words fell, his head suddenly "chuckled", no, it wasn't that he was too sensitive, nor that his heavy sword was too sensitive, but that the danger was indeed slowly approaching. Because just as he was relaxing his vigilance and trying to get back on the road, he saw a faint puff of light smoke rising from behind the sand dunes not far away.

These faint smokes fluttered at a great speed under the scorching sun, and emitted a faint aroma.

This aroma is like orchid incense, mosquito coil, and wine.

Before he could understand whether it was the scent of orchids, mosquitoes, or wine, his head felt an inexplicable dizziness.

Then, I saw that the dart masters, mules and horses who had been waiting for the battle were also dizzy.

Wobbly, looking like he was about to fall.

Oops, no, it's smoke!

He slapped himself in the face so hard that he even pulled out his dagger and stabbed him hard in the thigh, trying to relieve the effect of the smoke with pain.

Blood, finally played a role.

The blood that flowed out was immediately dried by the sun, and the pain followed.

He slammed his sword on the ground, but he finally didn't let himself fall.

He was about to run behind the dunes to find the perpetrator, only to find that the perpetrator had already come at him.

Those were two men in black.

Their light skills are not very high, but they are more than enough to deal with those dazed dart masters, seven or eight ups and downs, and there is no one standing.

Except for Li Chonglou himself.

Li Chonglou drew his sword and just wanted to make a move, but his legs suddenly weakened and he fell to his knees.

And the sword blade of the man in black was already on his neck, and he even sneered at him.

Li Chonglou raised his hand and stabbed the dagger into his thigh again to make himself feel more energetic. With the support of pain, he said to the man in black: "What kind of hero is he if he uses this kind of third-rate means, if he has the guts, he will ......."

Before he could finish his words, he was punched in the back of the head by the man in black behind him.

Let's go!

Fainted.

The two men in black looked at the dart master who was lying on the ground, looked at each other again, sneered, and then disappeared into the sunlight and dust.

Tranquility immediately returned to heaven and earth. Deathly still.

Li Chonglou swayed and didn't know how long he had been asleep. He was woken up by pain.

The blood from the wound on the leg was immediately dried by the sun, so that he did not die of blood. But the pain of blood loss brought him to his senses early.

He touched the head that was hurt in the back of his head, jumped up from the ground at once, and then hooked up the heavy sword that fell to the ground, drew his sword, and slashed in the air: "Come out! Come out for me!

However, all around him was silent, and all that answered him was the startled birds, flapping their fluffy wings, flying from one dune to the other.

He pushed away the mules and horses and the dart master who were lying on the periphery, jumped into the circle of the dart cart, opened the box, and thankfully the red and white goods were a lot.

Not only was the dart silver not lost, but there was one more thing.

I saw an extra line of words on the dart flag.

It seems to be dipped in the blood on his leg and written: "The Central Plains Dart Game, the heavy sword is not clumsy, and it is ridiculous and ridiculous." ”

The signature is, Sword Thirty.

Li Chonglou thrust the heavy sword into the ground, and then, clenched his fist so creaky that he said indignantly: "How can this be true, sword thirty!"

Two

Before the night had completely fallen, the thick fog had completely covered the sky, and the sky and the earth were dark, like ghosts.

In the thick fog, the moonlight hanging on the willow tops was even more poignant and hazy.

The moon is hazy, the birds are hazy, and the poems are hazy.

If the poet saw such a moonlight, he must have sighed with emotion and wrote a poem, but the fifth child and his brothers did not have the slightest intention of raising a glass to invite the bright moon.

They were neither poets nor drinkers.

They were just six bags of disciples in the beggar gang.

At this moment, they had just taken advantage of the thick fog and night to steal a few chickens from a farmer's house next door, which were so big and fat that they had just been roasted and eaten.

The ruined temple was a secluded place, and the door was bolted tightly and held up by a thick stake, so that not even a mosquito could enter.

The farmer, not to mention that the fog was too big, did not find out that they had stolen his chickens, but I am afraid that he knew about it, and looked for it, and when he broke the door and came in, the chickens had already been sent into their stomachs.

Thinking of this, they are all very proud.

They are all ordinary people, they don't have any lofty ideals, and in their opinion, being able to eat chicken quietly is the greatest enjoyment.

While laughing and talking about today's harvest, they bleed the chickens, plucked them out of their hair, and roasted them over the fire.

The fog was very loud and the fire was already burning.

The red flame had already roasted the chicken to a bronze color, and the thick oil had slowly flowed down the stick and dripped onto the fire, causing an even bigger flame.

The aroma permeated the entire ruined temple.

Lao Wu had just torn off a chicken wing, and before he could put it in his mouth, he suddenly heard a few dull sounds, it was a knock on the door, knock, knock, knock.

Could it be that they stole chickens and the farmer came to them?

Not like.

It's the sound of knocking on the door, not like.

The peasants have to work in the fields during the day and in their beds at night, so it will never take so much effort to knock on the door at this time.

Where's the knock on the door, it's like banging on the door.

There are indeed people banging on the door.

However, it was not the farmer who slammed the door, but two men in black.

They were carrying a very thick stake, and together they were slamming into the gate.

Knock, knock, knock.

The pine door was sturdy and still intact after countless blows, but the ruined temple was not so strong.

With each hit, the house shook a few times, kicking up countless dust, and then the rafteres and rotten tiles on the roof fell together, boom, boom, boom.

In the end, the entire roof of the house was knocked down, plopping, booming, the fifth and his brothers had been buried by the thick broken bricks and mud, scarred, and several beggars even fainted from the falling bricks.

Gradually, the sound stopped.

The fire has been extinguished.

The chickens that had already been roasted still had an enticing aroma.

It's a pity that people can't enjoy it anymore.

People have been buried under the bricks, and how can people who have fainted enjoy it?

I don't know how long it took, but the pile of broken bricks and rubble suddenly moved, and then, a dirty, thin hand slowly stretched out from below, followed by a gray-headed head, and there was already blood on the head, and the blood slowly flowed down the forehead, and flowed all over the face, all over the body.

It's the fifth.

Among these disciples, the fifth oldest has the best martial arts, so the fifth one wakes up the fastest.

The fifth child wiped the face of the gray servant with his dirty sleeve, and at once he jumped up and rushed towards the door, wanting to see who was messing with them.

Dare to provoke the head of the beggar gang disciples, it is really impatient.

He must teach him a good lesson, even if it is wrong to steal a few chickens from you, it will not kill people.

However, when he opened the door and rushed out, he found that there was no one outside.

Hell really?

He waved the dog-beating stick, made a posture of sweeping thousands of troops, and shouted a few times around: Where is the evil sect crooked, if you are brave enough, come out to see me.

The surroundings were still empty, and there was no one left, only a thick fog shrouded the wilderness, and the night deepened.

Although there was no one, there were a few more words on the wall next to it: beggars, beggars, no way to teach. The signature is, Sword Thirty.

Lao Wu's hair stood upside down, and he struck the dog-beating stick in his hand towards the wall where the words were engraved, only to hear a loud "boom", and a big hole had been broken in the wall.

What a handsome kung fu.

Incense was burning in the ancestral hall, cymbals were ringing, incense was misty, and a group of monks were sitting quietly in the main hall of the ancestral hall, doing rituals devoutly.

Zheng Feng had been fasting for three whole days, bathing in incense, kneeling quietly on the straw mat in the ancestral hall, holding a rosary, concentrating on the Buddha, and placing the red dust outside the door.

Today, it is the annual ancestor worship ceremony of the Invincible Gate.

Zheng Feng has a piety of twelve points of respect for his ancestors.

Because his ancestors not only brought him supreme glory, but also brought him the invincible door that has been famous in the rivers and lakes for hundreds of years.

It is difficult to start a business, and it is even more difficult to keep a business.

The Invincible Gate was passed on to his generation, not only did not damage the honor obtained by the Invincible Gate in the slightest, but it was better than the honor of the ancestors at that time.

If when the ancestors were there, the Invincible Gate was just a small door, then the current Invincible Gate has become a faction in the martial arts, a big faction.

The disciples of the invincible sect are all over the world, and they can almost stand side by side with Shaolin, Wudang, Emei, and Huashan.

Probably this was something that his ancestors had not thought of, or even if they did, much faster than they had imagined, much faster.

Although the honor of standing in the rivers and lakes with Shaolin and Wudang was realized early in Zheng Feng's generation, there was no pride on his face.

He still understands the truth of drinking water and thinking of the source.

Therefore, this year's ancestor worship ceremony is even grander than in previous years.

After worshipping his ancestors, he walked out of the ancestral hall, and in the vast morning light, there was a faint morning bell.

The guests were already waiting in the hall.

Of course, this year's guests were more than in previous years, and all the disciples from all over the country rushed back half a month in advance to participate in this grand ceremony.

Being able to put a stick of incense in front of the ancestral tablet is their greatest wish.

Ordinary disciples do not have this qualification.

There are many disciples of the Invincible Sect, and of course there are many friends of the Invincible Sect.

Seeing so many friends from the rivers and lakes coming to cheer, Zheng Feng smiled.

There are so many friends from the rivers and lakes who come uninvited, which is itself a status symbol.

However, when he came to the hall, he found that the plaque hanging on it had been replaced, and the guests were talking about the replaced plaque with a look of mockery or horror.

It turned out that the plaque that read "Punch the heroes of the north and the south, and kick the heroes of the east and west" has been replaced by another one: No man's land is at my disposal, and the enemy and I don't know the way. The signature is, Sword Thirty.

The joints of Zheng Feng's whole body creaked, and suddenly his claws came out, and a harrier turned over, scratched the plaque to pieces, and shouted: How can this be true, sword thirty.