Dali Imperial Mausoleum, the main hall of the underground palace.

Dirty blood, broken limbs, debris, empty scabbards, golden elixirs in the corners...

It was a mess.

A gray pipe lay on its side on the floor, and the gray juice from the previous owner's headshot did not splash onto the pipe at all.

At this moment, light was flowing out of the bag that Zhao Rong opened before falling to the ground.

Like a tipped-over cup of water, the grey 'halo' flowed down, no longer able to suppress the repressive and restraining things within.

In the water-like halo, three human-shaped shadows walked out quickly and successively.

Among them, two human-shaped shadows walked out and stood together.

They were an old man and a woman, both of them seemed to be wearing long robes and Confucian clothes.

At this time, although the gray halo emitting from the gray pipe could no longer block the things in the bag, it was still connected and enveloped the two Confucian scholars who walked out first, but it could no longer restrain their actions.

The two figures were so hazy that one couldn't see their faces clearly.

But I could roughly see that the woman had a graceful figure, her hair cascading down her shoulders, and she was walking in a hurry.

The old man was tall and thin, with a jade ring on his waist.

Confucianism has its own rules: scholars should wear jade bi disks and gentlemen should wear jade rings, which cannot be violated.

At the same time, the tall and thin old man was holding a jade disk of Linlu scholar in his hand.

It was the temporary scholar's jade disk that Zhao Rong had thrown into the gray pipe by Qin Jianfu.

At this moment, it was shining brightly in the old man's hand, like a fish entering the sea, and was completely stimulated.

The ancient characters engraved on it exuded a dazzling and clear light, covering the tall and thin old man and the graceful woman next to him, as if forming a shadow in front of the two people.

And their true identity is nowhere to be found.

Behind the old man and the woman dressed as Confucian scholars, there was a human-shaped shadow slowly walking out of the pipe.

The man's figure was snow-white, as if it was composed of the snow-white Mo Xia sword energy swallowed by the gray pipe.

Like the previous two, the figure of this unknown Mo Xia was shrouded in a gray halo flowing from a gray pipe, and this gray pipe seemed to be naturally able to restrain sword cultivators.

Therefore, on the projection of the seventh-level Mo Xia sword energy, the gray halo gathered and covered an unusually large amount.

However, this mysterious pipe of unknown origin has lost its owner and can no longer restrain the "projections" that have come out.

However, it also made the figure of this unknown black swordsman even more vague, and his gender could not be seen. All that could be seen was that he had a slender and very thin figure, and he wore a very long belt.

At that moment, in the silent hall, three phantoms appeared one after another. The ground was in a mess all around. Before anyone could take a closer look, the graceful woman among the two Confucian scholars standing in the front rushed out first.

“Tzuyu!”

It was Zhu Yourong's soft and magnetic voice, but this time it was no longer gentle and gentle as when she was in class, but rather urgent.

Zhu Yourong's snow-eyed Nascent Soul was still rushing to Dali. She was doing two things at once. This was her true body that stayed in the academy. She had gone to seek help from the tall and thin old man before in order to locate Zhao Rong's position.

What made Zhu Yourong very anxious was that before, in a forbidden secret place in the academy, a tall and thin old man had borrowed a certain "primer" corresponding to Zhao Rong's scholar jade disk and had been trying to communicate with the scholar jade disk. However, the strange thing was that although he had communicated with the jade disk, he was still unable to locate the jade disk, as if it was covered by fog.

This indicates that the person who concealed the location of Zhao Rong's jade disk, in addition to possessing strange means, is also very familiar with this jade disk and related magic restrictions prepared by the Confucian Academy for scholars as a "just in case" device, and may even be... a Confucian monk himself.

This made the tall and thin old man couldn't help but frown slightly, but it did not stump the old man at all, even though he only had a traction jade disk in his hand and they were thousands of miles apart.

So, under the urgent urging of a woman in Confucian robes, the old man tried to use the scholar's jade disk as an anchor, using several Confucian techniques related to "Tao", trying to project his avatar from thousands of miles away, but he was always blocked by a gray pipe.

Just when the old man tried many times and the two sides were in a stalemate, fortunately, another powerful man in the seventh realm came across thousands of time and space, used some medium to interfere, and tried to break free from the gray fog blockade of the gray pipe like the old man.

Then the tall and thin old man and the unknown black swordsman sensed each other's presence, and joined forces tacitly, making the gray pipe glow brightly, resisting with all their might, unable to take care of other things for a while.

This was the life-and-death turning point that suddenly occurred to Blood-Eyed Zhao Rong, who had raised a demon dragon in his heart and reached a higher realm, not long ago when he was unable to break the protective halo on Qin Jianfu and was about to run out of energy.

Thanks to the remote interference of the two seventh-level masters, who pulled the gray pipe of the spiritual protector, Zhao Rong was able to burn his blood and energy in the last three breaths to deliver the three fatal punches, completing the incredible feat of killing Jindan with Fuyao!

However, at this moment, the three people who finally arrived at the underground palace hall saw the scene before them, but they didn't know that, nor did they think so...

When the extremely quiet scene in the hall came into view, the first reaction of the three people was...

Where are the people?

Why isn't there a single living person standing up?

Is this because they are late and it is over?

Or has the mastermind already escaped?

Zhu Yourong called out "Zi Yu" urgently, and then pounced on the pile of charred "meat pieces" in front of the dragon coffin.

The tall and thin old man with a jade ring on his waist stood where he was, turned his head and silently glanced at the back of Zhu Yourong who rushed forward regardless of anything.

After thinking about it, he said nothing.

…

He first raised his head and glanced at the dome of the hall, then silently said something in his heart, and passed the specific location of the imperial mausoleum hall back to Linlu Academy... After finishing these things, the tall and thin old man held the scholar's jade disk in his hand and silently looked around the hall.

The quiet Mo Xia behind him behaved in a similar way.

His whole body was condensed by snow-white sword energy and enveloped by a gray halo. At this moment, his pair of blurry snow-white eyes carefully scanned the hall.

The two Taiyi monks, one Confucian and the other Mo, have spiritual awareness as vast as the ocean.

These traces inside the temple contain a huge amount of information.

In their eyes, every footprint, every piece of debris, every drop of blood, every grain of dust were like a videotape of Zhao Rong's previous life, played back and restored.

For example, the position where Zhao Rong sits in front of a stick of incense can be controlled within a millimeter.

This is a kind of "reunification".

Almost instantly, the two Taiyi monks whose souls were projected here saw what they wanted to see...

After a moment, the two of them turned their heads almost at the same time, and couldn't help but look at the "little bead" that rolled in the corner.

There are four heavenly marks on it, it is undoubtedly a golden elixir.

And it seemed to still have some residual heat, its body was flickering with light, illuminating a corner of the hall.

Then, they all turned their heads and looked at the one-armed scholar from the Fuyao realm who was lying on the corpse of an old scholar beside the dragon coffin.

Below, the dead old scholar’s ​​dantian was pierced and his head exploded to the ground.

The tall and thin old man and the snow-white ink hero were silent.

Fuyao...kill Jindan.

Immediately, the two Taiyi Taoists, who could make Wangque Mountain tremble with just a stomp of their feet, turned around and walked in different directions.

The tall and thin old man came to a tomb passage blocked by rubble, which was the tomb passage leading to the rear hall of the underground palace.

At this moment, the faint movements deep in the tomb passage could not be hidden from him.

There seemed to be... some poor women accompanying the sacrifice?

The tall and thin old man turned around and glanced at the one-armed scholar lying on the ground in front of the dragon coffin.

The direction in which his body finally fell was pointing towards the tomb passage at the rear hall. At the same time, his remaining left arm and a bloody index finger were also pointing here.

The tall and thin old man who liked to talk about benevolence with Linlu scholar and Taiqingfu students pursed his lips.

On the other side, Xuebai Moxia quietly walked to an empty scabbard, bent down to pick it up, lowered his eyes to look at the inscription of the Mysterious Bird of Destiny on it, which had now been dyed dark red by someone's blood.

Snow-white Ink Knight turned around and looked around the messy hall. There were still traces of some meticulous designs and novel and bold traps left in the hall.

The Snow-White Ink Knight nodded slightly, and it seemed that the corners of his mouth twitched.

now.

Zhu Yourong found it difficult to describe her own feelings.

She hurriedly approached the dragon coffin, but when she saw the pile of debris under the coffin, yes, a pile, the body of the person on top was only slightly better than the head-blasted corpse below.

But when she saw these from afar, she couldn't help but slow down her pace.

Halfway through the journey, the scholar woman slowly stopped, her expression unclear.

After a moment, the stopped footsteps continued to rise.

It was him, she just knew it.

The woman in Confucian robes walked silently to the front of the dragon coffin, slowly bent her legs and squatted down, with a pair of outstretched hands hovering above his remains, moving back and forth through the air.

I don't know where to start.

It's like a doctor who has just stepped onto the operating table and is faced with a soldier being carried out of a fierce trench, and he doesn't know where to start.

Why...why is this happening?

Zhu Yourong squatted down and knelt forward, hitting the ground with her knees, kneeling beside him.

Her delicate hand grasped the place where Zhao Rong's severed right hand once was, and she made a sound softly.

This hand had written countless exquisitely crafted characters, and had also secretly picked up a book and tapped her forehead. At that time, she always dodged it nimbly, blinking and complaining that his hand was too slow, and then they would have another round of fun playing around after practicing calligraphy.

The woman had also secretly held this hand under the desk. Jingzi and Yu Huaijin were there at the time, but they were standing guard and didn't notice.

She grabbed his hand and gently carved a word on his palm that she hoped she would never need. Then she tilted her head with a slightly hot face, not knowing whether he had misunderstood...

At this moment, Zhu Yourong stretched out his hand to the broken arm, as if trying to grab something, but he only grabbed a ball of empty air.

The woman took a deep breath, and then seemed to come back to her senses. She leaned down quickly, hugged Zhao Rong's burnt upper body and lifted him up. She put two fingers on his dry and wrinkled chest, and nervously felt his pulse to check his condition...