Yun Luo is a sword demon, a killing demon king. Bai Qi is an invisible blood shadow, a great demon. Feng Wuyou is the will of the sun, a demon.

These three men, as cold and venomous as poisonous snakes, are all ruthless people who kill without blinking an eye. The most cruel thing is that these three men can kill themselves. They act decisively and have a will as strong as a dragon.

But the three men are different. Feng Wuyou has no fear of death. His confidence comes from his unreserved trust in the tenth-level demigod demon, and the demon has never let Feng Wuyou down. Bai Qi is not afraid of death. That's because Bai Qi has the ability to be reborn by dripping blood. He can come back to life even if he dies, and he is the best at fighting to the death.

Yun Luo believed that he would not die, so he could move forward courageously. His will was like a sword, cutting through everything.

As long as they are not dead, Yunluo, Feng Wuyou and Bai Qi, these three men who are as cold and venomous as poisonous snakes, can decisively give up their limbs. Broken hands and feet are no big deal. These three men have a mysterious charm.

…

When we arrived at Basu, the sky was already dark.

The original meaning of Basu is the village at the foot of Warrior Mountain. Today, it has become a small town. It is backed by a barren mountain and sideways by a river. I don't know which mountain is Warrior Mountain. The three people came all the way from Ranwu, and all they could see were desolate mountains. They were rolling and didn't look like mountains. It would be more appropriate to say that they were the shadows or fossils of mountains. There was no grass or trees on the gray-green texture, and some of them had leaf-like veins, as if they had been deposited from ancient times, full of magical colors. If an ancient castle appeared in this place or a strange-looking monster walked out, it would also be reasonable for one or two warriors to subdue monsters to appear.

Buhe La is located at the folds at the foot of the mountain. Green crops and fruit trees pop up from the most unexpected places, oasis, fatigue makes the three people drowsy. The oasis stimulates the three people like seeing a sweet spring in the desert. One has to admire the reproductive ability of human beings, who have dotted the places suitable for the appearance of monsters with beautiful scenery.

Although the three people could not see where the water source was, the water must be flowing under this beautiful scenery, nourishing this small piece of soil. It was not only human effort, but also the divine beauty of nature.

Basu is the gathering place of many desert oases. If you don't look at its surroundings, you will doubt that you are in an ordinary small county town in the mainland. Staying in the Post and Telecommunications Hotel, I found that the environment was refreshing, the bedding was clean, and the hot water supply was sufficient. It is rare to live so comfortably in such a seemingly wild place.

There is free Internet access downstairs. A few steps away, there is a neat Sichuan restaurant next to it. The wall is decorated with a Sichuan-Tibet line map. The food is delicious. Maybe it's too delicious. I can't even remember where I had lunch that day. I always regretted not being able to stay by the Ranwu Lake. It seems that Basu is not bad. In one day, the three of us walked through Linzhi, Mi Dui, and Ranwu Lake. When we arrived in Basu, it felt like we had returned from a beautiful paradise to the world of fireworks. A group of people divided into two groups, had dinner, and then gathered together to discuss tomorrow's itinerary.

After a night's rest, I got up early in the morning and walked to Basu Street, which looked like a small market. Tibetans gathered and pushed carts or placed baskets with vegetables, apples, pears and the like. I guess they came down from the oases and hurried to sell the fruits and vegetables they grew.

Yun Luo also bought some out of curiosity to try. The pear flesh was too rough and could only replenish water. The green apple was sweet and sour and quite delicious. The fact that these fruits grew out of the wilderness was a miracle in itself. Walking along the small street, a large truck roared past, raising dust. I quickly took shelter by the houses along the street.

A group of primary school students were carrying their school bags to school, playing and fighting with each other, with their dark little faces looking up. If Basu was the village under the feet of the warriors, then these primary school students were the descendants of the warriors. Maybe Yunluo was judging others by himself. If they were to be proud, they had more things to be proud of. Even though they lived in an oasis, they were still surrounded by wasteland.

The roadside gradually became green and lush, with yellow, purple, and white wildflowers dotted in the bushes. The three of us realized that we had arrived at Haizi Mountain when we saw the sign. The first thing we saw was two circular lakes connected to each other, with clear snow-capped mountains behind them. Although we had been traveling all the way from Focheng, we were used to seeing snow-capped mountains and were not surprised.

What's interesting is the two lakes. Heige said they are sister lakes. They are indeed very similar, like sisters who depend on each other. The lake water is blue and very quiet. The quietness of the snow-capped mountains is a kind of silence, but you can still feel its strong and hard heart, making you want to call out to it and wake it up.

The silence of the lake is pure and soft, making people want to sit down, lie down, close their eyes, and listen quietly to the sounds of birds and the wind. Walking further, Feng Wuyou and Zhuoma really lay on the grass and posed for the camera.

Now it is not just a bunch of wild flowers occasionally, because wild flowers are everywhere, dotted on the grassland like stars. In addition to the wild flowers, the cows and sheep on the hillside do not raise their heads, eating grass diligently. They always keep their heads down, but their necks don’t get sore. Maybe the grass is too sweet. They have no time to raise their heads and look at the strangers who occasionally break in.

A shepherdess noticed the three people. She was a little girl with pigtails. Her face was red from the sun, and her black eyes sparkled with curiosity. She came over and looked at the three people. A little boy also came over. They were not shy, but they didn't speak Chinese very well.

The little shepherdess told Yunluo that her name was Zhuoma, Zhuoma again. It seemed that this was indeed a very popular name among Tibetan girls. Zhuoma was everywhere, just like the wild flowers dotted on the grassland.

When saying goodbye to Xiao Zhuoma, Yunluo gave her a small gift. She happily took Yunluo's hand and shook it vigorously. Her handshake had a sense of intimacy, like a little sister next door, not a stranger at all.

They got in the car and left. It was the first time for the three of them to see a pasture covered with wild flowers. Moreover, this large pasture was surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Yunluo picked up his phone and played back the photos he had just taken. Among them was a photo of little Zhuoma and a little boy standing back to back, looking at the camera. Both of them had cool expressions, much like the characters in American road movies.

Just like the three people passing by Haizi Mountain, they met little Zhuoma. She lived on this pasture, and her life must not be as comfortable as that of the children in the city. But her smile was just as warm. And there was big Zhuoma who started to make friends with Lulang. Their attitude towards strangers was like you are not a stranger, but a neighbor, modest and polite, and appropriately caring.

They may not know Haizi and have never read his poems, but Yunluo wants to tell that friend she knows, that die-hard fan, that if Haizi met them, he would definitely say: Little Dolma, Big Dolma, you are the characters in the poems.

Of course, he will also send his best wishes to that die-hard fan: Don’t forget the sufferings in this world, but I hope you can live as happily as possible.

…

Litang is the small county with the highest altitude in the world.

Although it has this honorary title, Yun Luo looked at it at first glance and it was just an ordinary small county town. The streets were dusty and lined with shops, all with similar facades, and most of the people running the shops were Han Chinese.

Although it was ordinary, I soon found something special when I sat in the small restaurant to eat. There were two types of people on the street who were always wearing uniforms. One type was soldiers who walked in neat steps and had serious expressions, and the other type was monks in groups of three or two wearing purple robes. Upon closer inspection, most of the monks were only in their teens, truly little monks.

After a while, two young monks walked into the snack bar. They greeted the proprietress in a familiar manner, as if they were family members. Seeing the three people sitting, a young monk with a pretty face came over and asked where they were from.

He was not afraid of strangers, but Yun Luo was a little stunned. The little monk spoke Chinese very well and had a calm and generous attitude, which was very different from the Tibetan monks who looked straight ahead in the temple a few days ago. If he was not wearing a monk's robe, it would be more appropriate to say that he looked like a middle school student next door.

Hearing the three people say they came from the Buddhist city, the young monk was very excited, and his companions also gathered around and started chatting with the three people. It turned out that they were really students, studying Buddhism in a large temple nearby.

Litang is a place where Han and Tibetan people live together. The young monks go out early in the morning to beg for food from shops and often meet people from all over the country. They like to ask: Where are you from and what do you do? Is that place far away? In their hearts, the Buddhist city is far away, and the distant place where the guests come from is equally mysterious.

There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!

Not only the little monk, but also the Tibetans on the street are obviously different from those seen in Focheng. The Tibetans in Focheng have thinner cheeks and are serious when they see strangers. The Tibetans in Litang, whether they are uncles, aunts or girls, have pleasant faces and bright eyes. If you want to take pictures of them or take photos with them, they will happily agree.

It is true that people are shaped by the land and water they live in. Whether Litang is good or not depends on the attitude of the people living there. The town is a place where shops gather, and the suburbs not far away are where herdsmen live. Litang is located in a flat lowland, surrounded by undulating mountains, and there are large pastures at the foot of the mountains and extending to the suburbs.

It is very convenient to go to Daocheng from Litang via Yading. The three of us had half a day to spare, so we asked the master to take us to Daocheng.

If the people impressed people in Litang, the road to Daocheng showed the vastness and beauty of nature. Pastures were connected to pastures, and clouds floated low behind the mountains. The sky was sunny and cloudy. When the three of us returned to Litang, the sun was setting. The car suddenly stopped while driving. Looking ahead, we found that we had encountered cattle and sheep blocking the road.

Not just a few, but a large group, filling the road ahead. The sheep were walking lazily and slowly, not in a hurry at all. The three people were watching from the car, not in a hurry at all. The setting sun was playing hide-and-seek behind a cloud, but it was not hiding well enough, and golden light was pouring through the gaps in the cloud, casting a narrow shadow on the grassland.

When the sun sets, there are still evening stars.

…

Another dark night came, and Feng Wuyou, Yunluo and Bai Qi once again set foot on the square in front of the Potala Palace.

Silent and dead silent waiting.

That is the most magnificent feast of death. Ninth-level evolver, Master Golden Lotus, tonight is the day of your death!

Chapter 457: I become a demon with one sword and can kill others and me.

Chapter 457: A sword that turns into a demon can kill others and me.