For a truly eternal life, time is not very valuable. After a pause of about a hundred years, Ye Qing came to a world hidden by a birthless mother.

A dying world that is about to die.

Zhejiang Jinhua.

A young scholar is on his way.

The scholar is very young and poor.

A face that was pretty handsome was impoverished.

In the peaceful and prosperous age, people who didn't Zhongju were all poor scholars. What's more, as today is gradually volatile, the livelihoods of sentient beings are very difficult.

The poor scholar wading through the mountains and rivers, a pair of originally sturdy coarse cloth shoes had also worn out, showing red and swollen toes.

On this day, the poor scholars were finally approaching their destination, Guobei County.

Guobei County is not a remote country in the true sense, but compared to Jinhua City, it is still somewhat biased.

Near the county seat of Guobei County, there is also luxuriant grass, a desolate area, and occasionally there are traces of ruined walls. It is a abandoned mountain village. It seems that the ground is good, but people don't know what happened, so they have to abandon their homeland and leave here.

The sky is gloomy, and the poor scholars who have lived and sleep for many days know that heavy rain will come at any time.

He quickened his pace.

He must find a place to shelter from the rain.

No one wants to be drenched in the downpour, and poor scholars are naturally unwilling.

However, things are always unsatisfactory.

The rain still fell.

It rained heavily and came in the blink of an eye.

The whirring north wind blew the big raindrops into a rolled bead curtain.

The poor scholar lifted his suitcase to shelter from the rain.

This has little effect. The cold rain still flows down the poor scholar's hair, through the poor scholar's neck, and flows into the poor scholar's body.

The poor scholar rushed wildly, he desperately needed to find a place to shelter from the rain.

The earth was getting muddy and the stones on the road were messy. The poor scholar almost tripped over several times.

Finally, when the poor scholar was soaked, he saw a small broken pavilion ahead. Although this small pavilion is dilapidated, and the tiles on the top of the pavilion have grown weeds and moss, it does not leak rain and is a good place to shelter from the rain.

The poor scholar stepped into the pavilion with strides. He twisted the wet clothes on his body, but his hand was not a dryer. Although he tried his best to wring out the clothes, the clothes were still wet.

Poor scholars are really poor, and there is no second change of clothes when they are so poor.

He could only stick to his wet clothes, curled up in the shabby pavilion, shivering.

It's like a young stray cat, pitiful and helpless.

At this time, the poor scholar heard the voice of the dispute.

A tall and murderous swordsman in black is having an argument with a group of great tycoons.

The result of the dispute is the war.

People always fight with people with the things they know best.

The scholar's dispute will develop into a pen war.

The swordsman and the swordsman are naturally the blood of the sword.

So the poor scholar saw the shadow of the sword.

...

Xiahou swordsman is killing.

Xiahou Swordsman didn't like killing people so much, but killing people was his life.

These days, if you want to be poor, you have to kill.

He also saw the poor scholars in the pavilion.

He knew that poor scholar did not dare to kill.

So poor scholars are just poor scholars.

And he dared to kill.

And it's not killing one or two people, but many, many people.

Sword cuts ghosts and gods, and corpses are like mountains.

So he is Xiahou swordsman.

The famous Xiahou swordsman.

Xiahou swordsman killed a person with one sword.

Simply and neatly.

No frills.

Although he is impetuous, the sword is fast.

Between the sword light, his opponents were all dead.

As if inadvertently, the blood he killed splashed on the poor scholar.

The poor scholar shuddered in fright.

Xiahou Swordsman just smiled.

Then Xiahou swordsman skillfully touched the silver from the dead man.

Xiahou swordsman entered the pavilion.

Although he is a well-known swordsman in the world, he still needs shelter from the rain.

The poor scholar was so scared that he hid in the corner, trying to reduce his sense of existence.

Xiahou Swordsman felt a little ridiculous.

Although he killed people, he would not kill a poor scholar for no reason.

Just a poor word is not worth killing.

Scholars also mean that humans and animals are harmless, not threatening, and not worth killing.

So Xiahou Swordsman did not kill.

The scholar was hungry and began to eat steamed buns.

Xiahou swordsman also began to eat steamed buns.

The scholar's steamed bread is harder than the steamed bread of Xiahou swordsman.

The steamed bread of Xiahou swordsman is whiter than that of the scholar.

In fact, if it were not for the knowledge that this poor scholar would not be able to "chew iron magic," Xiahou swordsman almost thought the scholar was chewing on stones.

Seeing the scholar almost bounced his teeth.

Xiahou swordsman couldn't see it.

"Here you!" Xiahou swordsman threw a bun to the scholar.

"Thank you." The scholar took the steamed bun carefully, glanced at Xiahou swordsman gratefully, and then ate the steamed bun.

He is really hungry.

When it rains, in order to resist the cold, the body's heat will be consumed rapidly. If you haven't eaten enough before, the human body will have obvious hunger. No one can avoid this.

Although Xiahou Swordsman had a peerless martial arts, it was still inevitable.

In the cold rain of Guobei County, a peerless swordsman and a poor scholar who took shelter from the rain seemed to be predestined, but this was just an occasional coincidence in the boundless world. After the rain, the sky is clear, and we still go our separate ways.

...

An umbrella appeared.

This is an oil-paper umbrella full of classical charm.

The yellow oiled paper umbrella has beautiful decorations.

The umbrella is huge.

There are two people under the umbrella.

A teenager in white.

A servant girl in Tsing Yi.

The white-clothed young man Fengshen was handsome, and he seemed to be not a human being, but a heavenly fairy.

The maidservant in Tsing Yi also has a stunning beauty.

Beauty in the flourishing age is nothing more than the same.

The maid holds an umbrella for the white boy.

A drop of rain never fell on the two of them.

Xiahou Swordsman's eyes condensed.

He looked at the feet of these two people, his expression serious.

Both the young man and the maidservant walked on the void without staining the dust.

They walk on the air.

Therefore, there is no mud on their bodies.

Such a shocking light work is truly amazing.

"Young Master Ye, there is a pavilion in front." The maid said.

"Just rest there for a while." Ye Gongzi said.

"No." said the maid.

While talking, the two entered the pavilion.

Xiahou swordsman and poor scholar reacted differently.

Xiahou swordsman is vigilant and defensive.

Poor scholars are envious and embarrassed.

"The swordsman, how far is it from Lanruo Temple?" Ye Gongzi asked Xiahou swordsman.

"What's left from Lanruo Temple? Are you going to Lanruo Temple?" Xiahou swordsman said, suddenly reacted and stared at the white-clothed boy, "Who are you? What are your intentions?"

The white-clothed boy smiled softly: "I am Ye Qing, Ye Qing's Ye, Ye Qing's Qing."

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