bully sword bully god

When Nangong Qiushui heard this, a faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

Yuan Futu seldom saw her smile, especially on this charming face, which was a bit bright and moving.

At this moment, there was a burst of noise, led by Xiao Nan, dozens of people filed in, and stood imposingly in the lobby of the Tianxuan Palace.

"There's no need to think about it anymore, we've already decided that only you can take that seat." Xiao Nan said carelessly, already speaking in an orderly tone.

Yuan Futu's eyes wandered over the black jade-colored seat, and with a dark face, he said, "Dare you all figured it out?"

Gong Yangjue walked out of the crowd, cupped his hands and said: "It's not a calculation, but a hit-and-miss relationship. The country cannot be without a king for a day, let alone this sect with a history of thousands of years. This time we were able to get out of trouble. Thirteen, and it doesn't matter whether you have the strength or not."

"Then what's important?" Yuan Futu frowned and asked.

Wang Cannian said: "As long as we agree, nothing matters."

Yuan Futu raised his eyebrows, Ganqing and these people are no longer unreasonable.

Nangong Qiushui said indifferently: "Actually, this matter is not for discussion with you, it's just a notice. As for the ceremony of succeeding Jian Shisan, I think it can be a bit extravagant. After all, the sect has just encountered a catastrophe and needs some exciting things .”

Yuan Futu stared at her and said, "Do you really think I can?"

"If I say you can do it, you can do it." Nangong Qiushui's reason was simple and irrefutable, "Don't you think you can't do it?"

Yuan Futu curled his lips, "There is never the word "impossible" in my dictionary."

"That's it." Nangong Qiushui looked proud, as if everything was under her control.

……

On the second day, the succession ceremony of the No.13 Sword Sect Master began.

Those sword masters, inner disciples and outer disciples add up to thousands of people, all standing in the square in front of the main peak in an orderly manner.

The black throne was moved to the steps in front of the main hall. Yuan Futu was a little restless. He stroked the cold handrail and looked towards the sky. At some point, the clouds cleared and wisps of warm sunlight fell, illuminating Jian Zong.

Standing aside, Xiaodouzi looked much better. Seeing the long-lost sun, he immediately showed a smile.

Yuan Futu took a deep breath and looked at the group of Sword Sect disciples. It seemed that everything happened too fast. As a mountain farmer, the lower his status, the stronger his desire for power and position, but there is no such thing now. Excited and excited, I just feel a mountain pressing on my back, and I can't breathe.

A sect with a history of thousands of years just fell into his hands, and he was really at a loss for what to do in the face of those tedious events.

At this moment, Xiaonan raised his hand, and everyone shouted in unison. The new name of Jian Shisan was recalled like thunder in Yuan Futu's ears, and his whole body began to boil. Facing so many disciples He suddenly understood why Shen Wuyu deliberately wanted to seize the suzerain position.

The temptation of power is irresistible to anyone.

Nangong Qiushui said indifferently: "The cumbersome things will be handed over to other sword masters, and you can do whatever you want."

Yuan Futu raised his head, looked at her charming face, and said, "There is something I must do."

"what's up?"

"Retreat."

After experiencing this pinnacle battle, Yuan Futu felt more and more that his strength was insignificant and vulnerable. Just like Qin Chuan said, if he meets him again in the future, he will either be strong enough to fight against him, or he will be killed. The truth that decides everything, he had already understood when he was fighting with Xiong Xiazi in Kunlun Mountains.

If there is enough strength, then everything can be reversed, and maybe Wan'er won't have to die.

But when it comes to the real reason for the retreat, it was because Yuan Futu had to spend a long time digesting the training experience of the sword sect seniors in his mind and the power left in the body of the sword mound spirit treasure.

Nangong Qiushui was silent for a moment, nodded, and said, "It's up to you, where do you plan to go for retreat?"

"The back mountain is in the cave in front of Wan'er's grave, so that I can face her day and night."

Nangong Qiushui frowned slightly, and said: "Time can kill everything after all."

Yuan Futu smiled and said, "Then have you ever forgotten Fang Yuan?"

Nangong Qiushui's eyes turned cold, and said, "What did you say?"

"Actually, I can see that the relationship between Yuanlao Nangong and Yuanlao Fang is not ordinary. I think even though he has passed away for a long time, he is still deeply rooted in your heart."

Nangong Qiushui said in a deep voice, "How do you know?"

"Because I also feel this way about Wan'er. I'm sure that no matter how many years pass, she will never fade away from my heart." Before meeting Wan'er, Yuan Futu didn't understand love, so he cherished this relationship. Memories, and especially unforgettable.

Nangong Qiushui's eyes wandered and fell into silence.

There are many trivial matters in Jianzong, including Jianlu's selection of inner disciples, recruiting outer disciples, refining pills and spirit treasures, and managing mine veins, etc. Even just listening to it once is enough to make Yuan Futu stand up, Xiao Nan To put it bluntly, he is a rough person, and he is unwilling to deal with these matters. Fortunately, the two sword masters, Gong Yangjue and Wang Cannian, who are highly respected, have taken on the responsibility, and they barely maintain the normal operation of this sect.

A few days later, Yuan Futu arrived alone on a lonely mountain peak in the back mountain.

There is an ancient cave here, and Wan'er's tombstone is tens of feet in front of the cave, the newly erected stone tablet has not yet left any writing, Ao Tianbo did this on purpose, and wanted Yuan Futu to engrave it himself.

Pointing like a sword, Yuan Futu carved a line of characters stroke by stroke.

"The tomb of my beloved wife Lin Wan'er, her husband Yuan Futu."

Although he has not paid homage to heaven and earth, Yuan Futu has already regarded her as his wife in his heart.

When night fell, Yuan Futu entered the cave.

The space in this cave is not very large, and the inside seems to be cut out by the sharp edge of the sword, with sharp edges and corners.

Yuan Futu sat cross-legged on the futon prepared in advance, calmly, and began his journey of retreat.

In the mind, those fragments of consciousness gradually brightened up. The memory of the senior Jianzong seemed to have been suppressed for too long, but it turned into endless thoughts and appeared in his mind with a tendency of catharsis.

Every thought is a treasure that cannot be measured by value!