Zhao Rong didn't want to die.

He promised Qingjun that he would pick a bright moon for her and bring it back.

He promised Su Xiaoxiao that he would give her the brightest moon in the sky, the only one of its kind on earth, in exchange for her marriage.

He promised Qian'er that he would love and cherish her forever and count stars with her for the rest of his life.

Zhao Rong didn't want to die, but.

And never live in vain.

Qin Jianfu refused the only compromise he regarded as his bottom line and refused to let Qian'er go.

This old friend from the Wei Dynasty wanted to torture him with the people he cared about.

What else does Zhao Rong want?

Continue to compromise? Kneel down and beg for mercy from this old fox with tears?

Are you trying to seek a chance of survival by sacrificing your manliness?

This seems to be the only possible solution to this desperate situation.

This is also... the scene that Qin Jianfu is secretly looking forward to.

The old man's actions, his reluctance to take action, and the psychological pressure and certain suggestions that have been put on him.

It is to lead him in this direction... Surrender, surrender, if you surrender I will let her go.

The old man wanted to not only destroy him physically, but also defeat him mentally.

so.

Zhao Rong was ready to go, with his sword slung over his shoulders and his crown straightened.

Charge silently.

Go to die.

So the moment when Zhao Rong's actions were despised.

Qin Jianfu, who had always been cold and calculating, was furious.

"Sorry, it's Brother Rong'er who is useless..."

The young Confucian scholar also whispered in his heart at that moment.

so.

At this moment, in the bamboo forest courtyard where all the red leaves had fallen, Zhu Yourong shook his head.

Zhao Rong couldn't agree.

He can't let Qian'er down.

Nor can I insult myself.

The only thing I can think of is a heroic way to die.

Zhao Rong silently looked at the woman in the Confucian robe in front of him whose ink-colored robe was gradually fading. Suddenly, the disfigured old Confucian scholar's laughter, which was not surprising but delighted, rang in his ears.

Sure enough, Zhu Yourong's "accident" was also part of the plan of this old fox, or the person behind him.

Zhao Rong turned his head and looked calmly.

Qin Jianfu stretched out his hand, and the gray pipe, which remained intact after the pipe was broken, opened its small mouth slightly and sucked the fragments of the copper pipe into it.

The gray pipe flew back into Qin Jianfu's hand.

He held the pipe in one hand and pointed at the woman in Confucian clothes who came out of the landscape painting with the other hand, sneering:

"A female cultivator who is half a step away from the Nascent Soul stage? Tsk tsk, it looks like she is still following the path of Confucianism, but is she practicing... calligraphy and painting? That's a bit weird... But no matter how weird it is, it's just a projection of a Nascent Soul. She won't be able to find this place and come here in person in a short period of time."

The old man restrained his smile again, looked calmly at the young scholar whose body was half blocked by the woman in Confucian robes, and nodded.

"You have a lot of tricks up your sleeve, and there are a lot of surprises. Are there a few more? Hmm? A few days ago, the carriage lost control and the carriage fell down. Do you remember that 'little accident'? At that time, I found that there were a lot of strange things about you."

Zhao Rong lowered his eyes.

It turns out that this old beast and the people behind him had secretly done so many tests and preparations before today's deadly situation.

Are you going to such great lengths to ensure that you can kill him without any risk?

The young scholar nodded, "It's my great honor."

His hand was still on the sword, his five fingers were clenched so tightly that they had lost their color, and the gaps between his fingers were covered with blood-red sword tassels.

Qin Jianfu moved.

He took two steps to the left, facing Zhao Rong and the woman in Confucian clothes, and continued calmly:

"If there are any more accidents, quickly release them all and see if I can save your life... Haha, actually I'm more curious about the green-clothed attendant who followed you that day. He's a little bit confusing, but..."

The old man kept talking, holding the gray pipe in his hand, and walked a few steps to the northeast side of the courtyard, chuckling:

"I left something for him. Why didn't the man in green come today? How about I give you a chance and call him over?"

Zhao Rong nodded again, pointed at Qian'er, and said seriously:

"That's fine. This girl knows where it is. Let her go find Uncle Xiaobai. I'll wait here with you."

Qin Jianfu also nodded, smiling:

"Okay, I'll do as you say. But I'll first destroy her cultivation, break her sword fairy embryo, scratch her pretty face, burn it with fire, and then let her go to report the news. Please wait patiently, I'll do it right away."

After he finished speaking, the disfigured old scholar held his pipe, put one hand behind his back, faced east and west, and walked slowly towards Zhao Qian'er who was lying on the ground.

The young scholar took a deep breath and turned to look at the woman in Confucian robes who was protecting him.

The woman in the dark Confucian robe, who had been silent until now, did not look at him, but suddenly raised her head and looked around.

Gui suddenly warned, "Oh no! This old beast is trying to set up a formation. He was just stalling for time! It was all lies! He was afraid that you would run away with Zhu Yourong, so he wanted to seal off this bamboo forest!"

Sure enough, just when Zhao Rong's face subconsciously became serious, the disfigured old scholar who had been looking straight ahead in the distance quickly glanced in the direction of Zhao Rong and others, and suddenly quickened his pace.

A closed space formation was being formed beneath his feet.

It will be completed in a few breaths.

Zhao Qian'er, who originally had a sad and desperate look on her face, seemed to have noticed these strange things on the field, but she was not worried at this moment but happy, because she saw that Brother Rong'er seemed to have finally noticed these things.

There’s still time, there’s still time to be taken away by the inky woman who looks like Mr. Zhu!

"Mmmm..." Please walk faster.

Xiao Qian'er couldn't make a sound and just sobbed.

Her red peach blossom eyes opened wide, tears of joy streaming down her face. However, in her misty eyes, besides joy and relief that he was still alive...

There was also the regret and sadness of never seeing him again, and a little fear of the gloomy and terrible ending that would come if she was left behind.

Is she not afraid of death? Is she not afraid of death? How could she not be afraid of death...

Just when the atmosphere in the courtyard was critical, Zhu Yourong, who was made of a black color, suddenly reached out and grabbed Zhao Rong's right hand.

A message that was reserved long, long ago, came out along the ink words on Zhao Rong's palm and quickly reached the outside of Zhao Rong's heart, "knock on the door".

The sword spirit in the heart lake keenly opened the door and received it.

In an instant, it cried out in surprise:

"One thousand miles, Ziyu, one thousand miles! This is the backup plan that Zhu Yourong arranged for you! One stroke can allow you to jump a hundred miles in any direction within half a breath. Two words, ten strokes, can allow you to jump a thousand miles continuously, just enough to escape the aura lock of this old beast."

Zhao Rong took a deep breath, looked down at the two words "help" on the palm of his hand, and murmured.

"Just...enough?"

Gui urged urgently, "It is never too late for a gentleman to take revenge. Hurry up and choose a direction. Let's escape! I suggest going north and leaving Jiyue Mountain. Let's not look for Dugu and the others. There may be enemies over there..."

Zhao Rong nodded in agreement.

He pulled the hand of the woman in scholar's robe who was quietly looking up.

She lowered her head and looked at him.

Her face was blurred.

The young scholar also looked at her calmly and tightened her hand.

He nodded slightly.

It seemed like some agreement had been reached.

In that split second.

The disfigured old scholar suddenly stopped, and his brows, which were burned by the hair, frowned for the first time today.

The old man seemed to realize that this "accident" was really going to become an accident.

It's about to happen and it's hard to stop!

Qin Jianfu suddenly took a step back and stopped setting up the last formation.

He waved his hand, nodded and smiled: "Well, let this girl go find your green-clad follower, don't hurt her for now."

As he spoke, the old man glanced at the blurred-faced woman in Confucian robes and the hands of the young Confucian scholar.

Zhao Rong remained silent. His slender body seemed to be stained with the ink color of the woman beside him, and became faintly blurred.

It seemed like it would disappear in the next second.

Seeing this, the old man looked at the pretty girl lying on the ground next to him.

At this moment, I don’t know whether it was intentional or not.

“Wuwuwuwuwuwa…Brother Rong’er, go, go, don’t listen to this bad guy, follow her quickly!”

Zhao Qian'er's mouth was blocked and she released the restriction again.

The charming young girl fell face first into the dust on the ground, unable to move. She tried to raise her head, widen her eyes that were blurred with tears, and looked through the edge of the cloth shoes of the hunchbacked old man in front of her, to take another look at the figure and appearance of the young scholar in the sunlight bestowed by the autumn day and the bamboo forest.

She cried and laughed, and shouted hoarsely.

"Brother Rong'er, don't hesitate, you will fall into his trap. This is a good opportunity. Go quickly and find Uncle Xiaobai... find the young lady... find Mr. Zhu..."

Qin Jianfu remained calm upon hearing this, and quietly suppressed the corners of his mouth that were about to curl. This was the effect he wanted.

A certain sword spirit also saw through this conspiracy and gently reminded: "Zhao Rong, don't hesitate..."

Zhao Rong nodded.

I didn't go to see Zhao Qianer and Qin Jianfu the whole time.

He still stared calmly at the blurry face of the woman in Confucian robes who was holding his hand.

It seemed as if I could see her frowning expression through the blurry ink.

The woman in Confucian robes shook her head.

The young scholar took her hand and nodded.

The woman in scholarly robes looked at him quietly again, then turned away.

Then.

In the bamboo forest courtyard.

The woman in the dark Confucian robe disappeared.

A girl who was laughing, crying, happy and sad, disappeared.

One hundred miles in half a breath.

The young scholar lowered his head and glanced at his empty right hand again. The two black characters on the palm and ten elegant strokes left by a woman in Confucian clothes were disappearing one by one in an orderly manner.

Just five breaths.

The two words "Yourong" on the palm of his hand were completely extinguished.

Far away in the distance, a pretty girl who was looking around stupidly escaped from Qin Jianfu's aura lock.

The bamboo courtyard returned to peace again.

The disfigured old scholar turned around and looked towards the north in surprise.

Zhang Huizhi, who had been silent and watching from the sidelines, glanced at the man who had been drinking and saying "I will never let you down" not long ago.

The young scholar who continued to stay under Qin Jianfu's eyes nodded slightly and said to Gui seriously: "I didn't hesitate."

Purple Sword Spirit: “…”

It made a sound with its mouth, then closed it silently.

Is this what I mean by hesitation? Can't you just pay attention to a few strokes? You, Zhao Ziyu, use one character, Zhao Qianer, use one character, and run separately, or you use three strokes and she uses seven strokes, that's fine too, although it's hard to guarantee, but both of them can have a lot of life, which is not bad for her...

In the end, you actually gave it all to that little girl...

The sword spirit felt that he couldn't live like this anymore, he really couldn't live like this anymore, no matter who he loved.

It looked at the quiet courtyard outside and the strange looks from those people, thought for a moment, and said to the Sword Master seriously:

"Can you send me away as well, Mr. Zhao?"

Zhao Rong shook his head, "No."

"I'll fuck you."

It turned out to be a new curse, and it was not masculine at all, and very manly.

Zhao Rong was stunned for a moment, then smiled.

At this time, Qin Jianfu snorted lightly, slowly retracted his gaze, and looked at Zhao Rong.

Didn't chase after that pretty girl.

The disfigured old scholar looked at the young scholar.

Then he laughed too.

Although the ending was unexpected, the old man was quite satisfied with it.

Zhao Rong also looked up at him, his smile growing even brighter.

So the two Confucian scholars, one old and one young, were both beaming with smiles.

If you don’t know, you might think they are a close pair of seniors and juniors.

Little did they know that there was a blood feud between the two and one of them must die today.

The old scholar nodded and said with a smile: "That's fine too."

As soon as he finished speaking, he stepped forward and reached out to grab Zhao Rong.

The young scholar was already very content. He first smiled and said to the cursing Gui in his heart, "Listen carefully and learn well later," and then he laughed and cursed happily:

"You old man want to hit me? If your father frowns, I will continue to be your father in the next life, okay..."

As he said this, he tried to draw the sword from his waist, but just as his hand touched the hilt, his wrist was grabbed by a skinny hand with five fingers.

Zhao Rong's right hand was twisted into an astonishing arc, and then there was a sound of bone cracking.

The disfigured old scholar came up to him nonchalantly, first crushed his wrist bones, then eliminated all his resistance, grabbed Zhao Rong's broken wrist with five fingers, and continued to apply force, crushing the broken wrist bones into tiny pieces smaller than fingernails.

“Ah… Ugh!!”

Zhao Rong's eyes were bloodshot, but he gritted his teeth, puffed out his cheeks, and tried not to scream.

Wen Jian fell to the ground.

This writing hand is completely useless.

Qin Jianfu glanced at his frowning brows. The broken bones in Zhao Rong's wrist pierced his skin and flesh, and blood was splattering everywhere, staining the old man's skinny fingers like eagle claws red.

Qin Jianfu's hand swayed slowly from side to side, and Zhao Rong's right hand, with a broken wrist bone, also began to sway weakly from side to side in the autumn wind, like a rag doll broken by a child.

The smell of blood filled the yard.

The old man smiled even wider, this was just the beginning.

He first blocked another 'soft' punch from the young scholar, then used a dry fingernail to gently pick out the tendon from the blurred flesh and blood on his wrist, pinched it, and pulled it out.

Bright red blood spurted out continuously.

Zhao Rong was heartbroken, his teeth were bleeding, and he fell down in agony, his body twisted with his disabled right hand as the center.

The old man gently held the fallen man's hand, but he still felt unsatisfied. He glanced at Zhao Rong's face, which was trying hard to hold back his anger, and nodded with a smile.

Then, he gently pulled Zhao Rong's right arm out and threw it behind his shoulder.

“Aaaaaaaa——!”

A hoarse roar.

The young scholar's broken arm fell to the ground, splashing blood and dust.

The old scholar ignored him, stretched out his bloody hand, wiped it carefully on Zhao Rong's snow-white collar, then reached out and picked up a cup of tea on the table next to him to moisten his throat.

He glanced at Zhao Rong, who was twisting in pain while holding his broken arm on the ground, and said casually, "Scream louder. Ha, this is just the beginning. How about trying the fire later?"

The young scholar puffed up his cheeks with a twisted smile, and tried hard to hold back his words, squeezing out only a few words from between his teeth.

The sound is a bit low.

The disfigured old scholar put down his teacup, bent down and leaned closer to listen.

"... Old... Old man, please try harder... Have you not eaten... Haha..."

The old man nodded, and the next moment, with a bang, he stepped firmly on Zhao Rong's raised head, making his right temple stick to the ground.

A pit was formed in the ground.

It is the shape of Zhao Rong’s head.

Qin Jianfu lowered his eyes and glanced down.

However, the young Confucian scholar whose head was stepped on smiled. His mouth was full of blood, his eyes were cracked, and his nose was broken, but his smile was exceptionally bright.

"...didn't...eat...?"

In a certain lake in the heart, a purple-robed sword spirit that turned its head away and couldn't bear to watch suddenly laughed after hearing the words. It was on a tall building beside the lake, holding its belly and laughing.

Qin Jianfu sneered, thinking about the next way to torture him, which would make him suffer so much that he wished he was dead.

The young scholar's head was stepped on and his vision became blurred.

He felt very unwilling to give up. If it was just a competition of physical fitness, Zhao Rong's unusual dragon physique would not be able to defeat the old scholar's physique.

This old beast has a fourth-grade golden elixir and spiritual cultivation.

These blessed Qin Jianfu's body, and at the same time, the spiritual energy also allowed him to use various Confucian spells and realm pressure. As a result, Zhao Rong was tortured like this now, unable to fight back...

The disfigured old scholar stepped on his head, slowly squatted down, and heard a murmur coming from under his feet.

"The descendants of the Zhao family... who shed the blood of the Heavenly Fate Black Bird... must hold the sword... and go... to die."

The young scholar with the broken arm lowered his head and slowly stretched out his other hand, with his five fingers crawling, trying to grab the sword left by his mother not far away.

Qin Jianfu watched with interest but did not stop it.

He raised his head slightly and took a deep breath with great satisfaction. This was the taste brewed by the pain of the Confucian scholar under his feet, the taste of revenge. Zhao Rong's pain was the most delicious food in the eyes of the old man.

"You are the one who harmed me... and my son, Zhao Ziyu. I want you to experience it all over again..."

Under your feet.

The left hand that was "crawling" with blood and effort finally touched the hilt of the sword.

The blood-red sword tassel looked even brighter in the sunlight.

Qin Jianfu opened his eyes again, and this time, his eyes were filled with indifference and cruelty.

At the same time, the hand on the ground finally grasped the hilt of the sword with trembling hands and pulled it out gently.

Qin Jianfu, who was about to sneer, suddenly froze in expression.

I saw that on the sword, which had just been put back into the scabbard by a woman in Confucian clothes not long ago, there was a faint ink color emerging.

In the blink of an eye, the disfigured old scholar staggered and stepped on empty air.

The young scholar with the broken arm disappeared...

The old man's expression changed slightly, but then his head turned sharply.

This time it was heading south.

"...One hundred miles? Only one hundred miles... Hoho... You little bastard, do you really think you can escape? This is not bad either, it's more interesting. Run away until you are completely desperate..."

The disfigured old scholar couldn't help but reveal a cruel smile.

Then his expression suddenly changed and he regained his composure.

At first, he was not in a hurry to play the cat and mouse game. He patted his sleeves leisurely and then stretched out his hand to the side.

Zhang Huizhi stood up with a complicated expression and walked forward.

He paused halfway, avoided the broken arm left by someone on the road, made a small detour, walked to Qin Jianfu, and handed the Linlu Scholar's Jade Disk to the old man.

The old scholar pinched his fingers and imposed a ban on the jade disk that flashed red light a hundred meters away from its owner, suppressing the red light of the communication academy, and then threw it into the gray pipe to completely block it.

"Well done, will do."

Qin Jianfu nodded slightly and turned to leave.

"Teacher..." the young scholar suddenly said.

The old scholar paused and asked, "What's the matter?"

"That person... can that person really do it..." His tone was hesitant.

"I heard from that person that the waters of Dali are very complicated and involve many old stories. But with that person here, you can rest assured and just wait quietly. He will find you again, just like he suddenly found me at the beginning... After all, protecting the safety of the royal family of Dali is just a simple matter. If you have any visions and ambitions, tell him boldly and do it boldly. He... will help you, as long as you agree to some insignificant conditions."

As soon as he finished speaking, the disfigured old scholar suddenly disappeared from the courtyard.

Ten miles in one breath, heading south.

All that was left was a bloody mess in the yard and a lonely scholar standing silently with his head and hands hanging.

Next to the feet of the lonely scholar was a man's broken arm lying quietly.

The sound of a young man copying books at his desk in the north room continued.

The dull young man ignored everything outside the window and wrote over and over again with his head down:

Establish a mind for heaven and earth, establish a mission for the people, carry on the lost knowledge of the ancient sages, and bring peace to all things.

"Private morality... public morality... private morality... public morality..."

The lonely scholar bent down and murmured, picked up the broken arm, lowered his head, wiped it with his sleeve, and walked away swayingly.

…