"What are you drawing?"

Some people were as confused and curious as the Purple-Clothed Sword Spirit.

The young scholar sat upright on the dragon coffin, holding the scabbard in one arm, horizontally on his knees.

"It's just a casual drawing, don't mind it."

Zhao Rong spoke very seriously to the disfigured old scholar who walked out of the dark tomb passage.

He looked at the latter with the same serious eyes.

He didn't look away.

"You...are not running away anymore?"

Zhao Rong said nothing.

At this time, it was less than half an hour since they separated from the bamboo courtyard.

The one-armed young Confucian scholar and the disfigured old Confucian scholar faced each other again.

But this time, he went to a place that seemed more suitable for death, and the former also had an arm broken and a sword missing.

But the latter still strolled around the garden with his pipe in hand.

It seems that nothing has changed.

At this moment, there were only the two Confucian scholars in the dead silent hall, with no one else interfering.

The old and the young looked at each other silently.

A man stood at the entrance of the tomb, blocking the only way out.

A man held an empty sword sheath in his hand, sitting quietly on the dragon coffin in the center of the hall.

At this time.

"Is there no way out?"

The disfigured old scholar asked calmly, "Well, you still thought of a way to deal with me."

He nodded slightly.

The young scholar still did not answer.

He looked at the disfigured old scholar in silence.

At the same time, he slightly raised the scabbard of the sword in his hand to his lower abdomen with the lone hand on his knee.

In front of the disfigured old scholar, he gently shook the end of the sheath.

Suddenly, a large amount of bright red blood drops fell down.

Tick-tock…tick-tock…

A series of sounds of blood drops hitting the coffin boards suddenly rang out in the underground palace.

Return to ** again and again.

The sound of blood dripping seemed to be getting louder...

The air in the hall suddenly became unusually quiet.

Zhao Rong looked straight at Qin Jianfu, holding the scabbard in his hand horizontally between the two of them, and shaking his wrist slightly.

Qin Jianfu glanced at the calm dark eyes of the haggard scholar, and seeing that he still didn't say anything, the old man first lowered his eyes and glanced at the empty scabbard in Zhao Rong's hand and his strange movements.

The original sword that Zhao Rong had suddenly teleported away had disappeared.

The old man glanced aside again and quickly glanced at the lonely white candle in the southeast corner of the hall.

Its flame flickers.

It's like a small boat drifting with the waves in a storm at sea.

Then, the old man looked at the strange blood-painted pattern on the ground in front of him, the leaky dragon coffin with a corner stained with dark red blood, the tomb passage in the back hall with dozens of auras coming from it... and so on.

The disfigured old scholar, holding a grey pipe in his hand, used his spiritual sense and eyes to quickly scan the entire underground palace.

Zhao Rong quietly stared at this calm and extremely vigilant old man, his left hand clenched without moving at all.

The blood flowing with the bloodline of the Destiny Black Bird flowed over the Destiny Black Bird negative characters on the scabbard, gathered at the end of the scabbard, and dripped naturally.

He deviated from the path of most of the Zhao family's descendants and turned to Confucianism, but at this time he lost his right hand to hold a pen.

With his remaining left hand tightly grasping the remaining scabbard, he faced the enemy whose spiritual cultivation was three levels higher than his own.

Not moving.

"Oh, it's quite lively in there."

At this time, the disfigured old scholar suddenly spoke and withdrew his gaze from behind Zhao Rong's shoulder.

He raised his hand and pointed a withered finger at the tomb passage behind the hall that was blocked by Zhao Rong's body, and said calmly:

"You seem to be quite familiar with the layout of this imperial tomb, so... are they related to you? Are they your backup? Or..."

The young scholar narrowed his eyes slightly, thought for a moment, and interrupted:

"Can you move faster and stop talking nonsense?"

The tone was very serious.

The disfigured old scholar paused, and his cloudy old eyes narrowed into slits.

He stared at the young scholar with a calm face and a playful tone, and nodded vigorously, "Okay, I'll leave it to you to collect the bodies. I hope they can identify and piece them together."

By identifying the remains, one can piece together a nearly complete corpse.

The young scholar, who had been calm all this time, finally smiled, and he was very pleased and happy.

He patted the dragon coffin beneath him with his scabbard, looking sincere:

"Please increase your efforts. It was too boring outside just now, just like not having eaten."

"good."

As soon as the young scholar finished speaking, the disfigured old scholar nodded slightly. Just as he uttered this word, suddenly several loud "boom" sounds came from all directions.

The entire main hall trembled a few times.

It turned out that the eight tomb passages leading from this main hall to other parts of the underground palace had all collapsed and were blocked by piles of landslide rocks.

These include the tomb passage where the disfigured old Confucian scholar came from, and the tomb passage behind Zhao Rong leading to the deep back hall.

The entire hall has temporarily become a deadly place...

There is almost no way to go.

After doing all this, Qin Jianfu didn't even raise his wrinkled eyelids.

He held a grey pipe in one hand and put the other hand behind his back, and walked straight forward with slow steps, while his narrowed eyes carefully looked at the expression of the young scholar in front of him.

The way out for these concubines who were buried with the emperor was blocked. Zhao Rong did not look back, nor did his expression change.

He had already stopped smiling and was looking at Qin Jianfu who was slowly approaching.

Looks normal.

The two Confucian scholars were only ten feet apart.

The old scholar, who could have instantly rushed to the young scholar's side and cut off his head, walked forward slowly.

Just like when he was still the Prime Minister of Wei, before he lost his son and was seriously injured by someone, he would go to the Golden Palace early in the morning for court.

The old man gradually approached the blood-red circle in the center of the hall.

As if painful memories were evoked again, the disfigured old scholar's face turned red, and then he stared and clenched his teeth, looking very scary, like a ferocious beast that had lost its cubs.

He no longer slowed down his pace, but took a big step forward and stretched out a withered hand towards Zhao Rong.

It seemed as if he was going to rush forward regardless of anything and directly twist off the head of the calm young scholar on the dragon coffin.

Zhao Rong remained motionless.

Holding the scabbard at one-third of the way, he gently tapped the lid of the dragon coffin beneath him with one end of the scabbard.

He quietly looked at Qin Jianfu who was pressing on him.

In the lake of its heart, the purple-clothed sword spirit, who had roughly guessed the sword master's intention, saw that the old beast outside was completely ignoring the bluffing trick on the ground and was about to break into the bloody circle. Its heart suddenly hung in its throat.

At the same time, he felt powerless. Thinking back to the past, a hair could kill a mere Jindan Realm cultivator. However, now...

Just as the sword spirit sighed and closed his eyes, the murderous old scholar suddenly stopped.

Paused.

Like a nail, it was nailed firmly to the edge of the blood circle by a hammer!

His toes were only one centimeter away from the bloodstain that someone had drawn haphazardly.

Qin Jianfu's momentum was almost halted instantly.

Similarly, his previous angry expression also suddenly subsided.

Then he showed a calm and indifferent expression.

It turns out they were all pretending.

This disfigured old scholar was also trying to scare the one-armed young scholar.

An old fox and a young fox.

Next to a certain heart lake, the purple-clothed sword spirit opened his eyes, breathed a sigh of relief, and couldn't help but turn his head to look at the color of the heart lake next to him.

There is indeed a nervous color in it, which belongs to the owner of the heart lake.

However, what is more than that is a large area of ​​bright colors that belong only to calmness, composure and focused thinking.

Inside the hall, Zhao Rong's expression remained unchanged. He held the scabbard of the sword horizontally and continued to look directly at Qin Jianfu.

It was as if I was just watching a boring acrobatic show and I didn't even laugh.

Just sitting on the dragon coffin, looking at the old man quietly.

Qin Jianfu stopped outside the circle and looked closely at the expression and eyes of the young scholar.

I want to see even a hint of cowardice, panic or conspiracy in it.

However...it still failed.

From the beginning till now, from the beginning to the end, Zhao Rong's eyes were looking at him calmly.

It didn't shift at all, and Zhao Rong didn't even look at the blood circle on the ground and the other strange pattern inside the blood circle.

This is also the reason why Qin Jianfu chose to stop outside the bloody circle at this time.

He has sacrificed and endured so much, and has finally reached this point. He is about to complete his final revenge and be able to enjoy and savor the pain before Zhao Rong's death.

So you have to be steady, don’t gamble or take things lightly…

at this time.

There was autumn wind and air leaking out from the dragon coffin in the underground palace.

Outside the blood circle outline surrounding the central dragon coffin.

The disfigured old scholar took a step on the spot, then looked down at his feet.

Qin Jianfu remained still for a while, then slowly walked around the blood-red circle on the ground.

He circled Zhao Rong twice.

During this time, the old scholar would occasionally glance at the candle in the southeast corner of the hall.

He seemed to be thinking about something.

Zhao Rong's gaze remained the same as before, and he followed Qin Jianfu calmly throughout the whole process, like a curious baby, wanting to see what the old man would do next.

The young scholar seemed unaware that he was trapped in a desperate situation.

In his heart, Gui, dressed in purple, was also infected by the sword master's peaceful mood, and his anxious heart relaxed a little.

It had actually roughly guessed some of Zhao Rong's thoughts before.

The reason why he used the blood-stained scabbard to draw a blood circle and another strange pattern on the ground and placed a gloomy candle in the southeast corner was actually just a trick of the empty city to scare Qin Jianfu and delay his steps.

However, Gui was not clear about all the plans and ideas of Zhao Rong's "it is better to rely on oneself than on others". Right now, was this just to delay time and wait for reinforcements, or... were there other tricks?

Could it be that he wanted to rely solely on these strange blood patterns on the ground that were pretending to be extending to block the steps of a great monk in the Jindan realm for a long time?

The purple-clothed sword spirit couldn't help but frown.

Oh, that candle! Maybe it has something fishy about it, hiding a turning point! ?

It seemed to suddenly remember something and quickly looked towards the "Ghost Blowing Out the Light".

But at this moment!

Qin Jianfu walked slowly seven steps around the outer contour of the blood circle, then suddenly turned his head and stopped.

His eyes were fixed on Zhao Rong who was in the center of the blood circle.

Suddenly asked.

"Do you think I dare not?"

Zhao Rong looked at him and still said nothing.

However this time.

In an instant, Qin Jianfu disappeared from the spot.

The old man's figure suddenly appeared next to the candle in the southeast corner, then disappeared again, returning to the place where he spoke a second ago.

Just this time.

There was an ordinary white candle in his hand.

The candle had been broken into two halves, with a wax flame still burning quietly on one of the halves and wax dripping.

Qin Jianfu lowered his head to take a look, then sniffed carefully.

Then……

He smiled.

No strange smell or odor.

The old man turned around and strode into the blood circle.

As expected, he was safe and sound.

"It's just a trifle."

Qin Jianfu sneered and walked towards Zhao Rong, who was keeping his head down and silent.

Between the two scholars, only a blood-red hexagram remained...