The wind of painting rivers and lakes rises Canglan

Chapter 9
A stone room, an oil lamp!
In the small and airtight space, there was a bone-chilling and icy atmosphere. In the dim light, a man who was neither tall nor big, neither fat nor thin, but looked very strange was sitting on the stone bed.

The weak flame kept beating, and the little light was hard to maintain under the erosion of the dark and cold air.

Outside the stone chamber is a stretch of lofty mountains.

The verdant and verdant primeval forest is surrounded by mountains, and a crooked gravel path winds continuously from the woods at the foot of the mountain, leading to this mysterious grotto that constantly seeps out the dark and cold air.

Two little ghosts from the Xuanming Sect stood on both sides of the stone gate with scimitars hanging from their waists and their eyes indifferent.

There was a sound of hurried but undisturbed footsteps from a distance, a tall church member with more complicated ghost patterns on the mask was holding a sheepskin scroll in both hands, and walked quickly along the gravel path down the mountain.

In the dark stone room, the body was normal, but the figure with a particularly long neck and head moved slightly.

The light of the oil lamp hanging directly above his head was flickering, as if he felt the retreat of the cold wave around him. Within a few breaths, it was suddenly bright and generous, shining on the people sitting cross-legged on the stone bed and practicing in closed doors, and dispersed shadow.

At this time, the congregation who sent the message happened to come to the door of the stone chamber. He knelt down on one knee and said loudly to the closed door of the grotto.

"Report to Chongsheng Yanjun, a secret letter has arrived from the chief rudder!"

In the stone chamber, Yan Jun, who had a particularly long neck and head, opened his closed eyes slightly, and his inner strength was constantly running, but his whole body remained motionless, as if he had merged with the eternal mountain below him.

As soon as the voice outside the grotto fell, a dark and gloomy cold air drifted out from the gap in the middle of the stone gate, and the congregants guarding on both sides quickly retreated several feet away, avoiding this place, which is enough to turn stones into powder. terrible chill.

There was a soft "chi" sound, as if a pair of invisible dark ghost hands pushed open the stone door from the grotto, opening up the icy air from the nether world.

In an instant, the moisture in the surrounding air was frozen into fine ice crystals, and under the sunlight, traces of colorful cold light burst out.

The stone door opened, and the congregation standing on both sides knelt down on one knee.

A figure with a black aura all over his body slowly walked out of the stone room.

He glanced at the kneeling kid, reached out to take the parchment, unfolded it in front of him, and looked at it indifferently.

"A few days ago, Black and White Wuchang sent an investigation report. His brother and sister encountered Uncle Yang and his disciples in the suburbs of Yuzhou. It is estimated that Yang Shuzi is likely to live in seclusion there. He specially ordered the five major Yamas to go to Yuzhou to handle it together with Black and White Wuchang, and found out Yang's whereabouts, waiting for an opportunity to seize Longquan. This is a serious matter, we must be careful—Meng Po."

……

The morning sun is particularly soft, shining among the lush green forests, which makes people feel refreshed and breathe freely.

In the depths of the dense forest, a tall, big, strong man with his upper body naked, holding an unfolded sheepskin scroll in his left hand to read, and his right hand behind his back, with a leisurely demeanor, standing still.

Beside him, there were more than a dozen heavily armed members of the Xuanming Cult. They were sweating profusely and panting, waving all kinds of weapons in their hands, chopping and beating the tall man non-stop.

After a round of weapons, the other group of people on the periphery adjusted their breath, punched and kicked, mustering all their strength to besiege the tall man who was reading the letter in the middle.

He endured the siege of swords, guns, halberds, fists, palms and claws with eighteen kinds of weapons and martial arts, but there was no scar on his body, only the blood of his skin became more rosy and crystal clear.

This kind of horizontal training of external skills is already at its peak.

What's even more frightening is that his aura is vague and long-lasting, which shows that his internal strength is also unfathomable.In front of him was a kneeling, motionless congregation, who brought the parchment.

……

In a bedroom in an attic, Jiang Xuanli, who was as thin as a bamboo pole, sat by the bed, straightened his clothes with his left hand, and looked nonchalantly at the unfolded parchment on his right hand.

The door of the bedroom was open, and a little leader of the Xuanming Sect with the same ghost face knelt in front of him motionless on one knee.

At this time, a naked snow-white arm protruded from behind Jiang Xuanli, wrapping it around his neck that could be held by one hand.Immediately afterwards, a beautiful woman with a naked upper body and only a bellyband lay on his shoulder with sleepy eyes. She was about to look over Jiang Xuanli's shoulder to look at the sheepskin scroll when the latter impatiently stretched out her hand and ruthlessly Pushed hard on the bed.

There were only a few short lines on the parchment, and Jiang Xuanli read it right away, and the original casual expression on the slender horse's face began to subside.

He put away the parchment, stretched his neck, grinned grimly, and stood up abruptly.

……

Blossoming crystal snowflakes fell from the hazy sky, the white cold mist and the blade-like snow covered everything in the world, leaving only death-like paleness.

A goshawk flew through the heavy fog and blizzard, and flew towards a towering snow mountain that was faintly visible in the distance.

On the top of the snow-capped mountain, stands a huge boulder!
A person sat quietly on the boulder, the only heretic in the dead silence.

He is like a sun, shining dazzling golden light amidst the darkness and paleness, and the warm stream of heat evaporates the snowflakes falling from the sky and near the top of his head into a white mist.

What is even more astonishing is that within five meters around it, the snow on the ground that should not melt for thousands of years has been completely melted by it, exposing the black soil on the top of the mountain without any trace of water, as if evaporated by the masculine internal force Become angry, drift away without a trace.

This person is the head of the five Yan Lords of the Xuanming Sect, the benevolent sage Yan Jun Jiang Renjie.He is doing exercises with his eyes closed.

In mid-air, the eagle's shrill cry did not disturb his attention at all.

After circling in mid-air for a long time, Goshawk instinctively let go of its claws, and threw down the parchment it was holding on to Jiang Renjie.

The blizzard failed to blow the falling trajectory of this volume of letters. It seemed that there was an invisible strong support, resisting the desolate wind and frost that dissipated all around, and heading towards the only landing point, the top of the man on the mountain.

The howling wind is the only sound of nature here, and it also obscures the sound of foreign objects passing through the wind and snow.

Just when the parchment was about to fall on Jiang Renjie's head, he suddenly opened his eyes, and his pupils were like copper bells, shining brightly.

A vigorous hand stretched out as fast as lightning.

Jiang Renjie grabbed the sheepskin and rolled it up, slowly unfolding it.

He glanced at the words on the sheepskin, pondered for a while, and slowly looked up at the sky.

His eyes seemed to have broken through the wind and snow of all things, causing the goshawk in the sky to cry!
Terrible and piercing.

(End of this chapter)