Fighter of the Destiny

A Taoist nun was sitting in a sedan chair, with a whisk in her left arm.

The whisk was obviously repaired in the past two years and is very new.

The Taoist nun's features don't look very old, but they always give people an old-fashioned feeling, and she has a strange and annoying temperament.

Wang Po hated her very much. If it weren't for her husband, he would have cut off one of her arms two years ago.

Of course, except for people like Wang Po, no one dared to show any disgust towards the Taoist nun.

Because this Taoist nun has a very violent temper, because this Taoist nun is named Wuwu Bi, one of the previous generations of Bafang Yu, a strong person in the sacred field.

There was no one in the other sedan chair.

The person who was originally sitting in the sedan chair was now standing next to Wang Po.

He was a very fat middle-aged man, wearing bright yellow clothes, with the fat around his belly hanging down from his belt, which looked a little funny.

But no one dared to make fun of him either.

Because he is the Prime Minister, the most powerful prince in the Zhou Dynasty, with the support of countless armies and ministers.

And not long ago, he finally broke through that threshold and became the first truly powerful person from the Chen royal family to enter the sacred realm after the late emperor.

The latter thing, until today, few people know about it.

Until he came to Wenshui City from Kyoto, took a sedan chair to Jiming Mountain, walked to Wang Po's side and stood side by side, and saw a vast country in front of him.

Wang Po said: "I didn't expect it."

King Xiang said with emotion: "I didn't expect it either."

…

…

The wind and snow enveloped Wenshui City and the ancestral hall.

Snow has accumulated on the black eaves, and the white looks beautiful. However, the white walls are not whiter. Instead, they are reflected in the snowy light in the courtyard, making them look darker.

In the intermittent, sometimes dense and sometimes sparse wind and snow, the light falling from the sky is constantly changing, sometimes dark and sometimes bright.

Between light and darkness, many figures appeared in the wind and snow.

The assassins wore white clothes and covered their faces, just like the wind and snow, with the chill all over their bodies, making it difficult for anyone to spot them.

The first time they appeared, they were discovered by Tang Sanliu. That was because they didn't care about being discovered by him.

Tang Sanliu's eyes narrowed.

The cold wind blew on his face, failing to reduce the heat, and the greasy hair floated up because he had not washed it for a long time.

He felt a little bad because the picture was not beautiful enough and the smell was unpleasant.

He looked at the white-clothed assassins in the courtyard of the ancestral hall, scratched his head, and said, "So many of you beat me up? It's so unfair."

The white-clothed assassins naturally didn't answer and looked at him expressionlessly.

Tang Thirty-Six raised his head and looked at the old worshipper.

He was sitting on the futon at this time, with Lao Congfong standing beside him. If he wanted to see Lao Congfong's face more clearly, he needed to raise his head high.

You could say he looked like a duck waiting to be killed, or you could say he looked like a proud goose.

Yes, no matter how cold and terrifying the breaths of these assassins who sneaked into the ancestral hall through the wind and snow were, they could not be the opponents of the old priest.

But these assassins obviously didn't care, and their eyes just fell on him, so there was only one explanation.

The second master of the Tang family wants to kill Tang Sanshiliu, where does the confidence come from?

Because the old priest who stayed in the ancestral hall belonged to him.

The old worshiper said: "I'm sorry, young master."

Tang Sanshiliu smiled and said, "I'm sorry for hugging you."

The old priest raised his right hand and slapped it down on his head.

The wind and snow suddenly blew, and the candles in the depths of the ancestral hall swayed violently. The first few rows were immediately extinguished. More than a dozen tablets rolled off the shelves and were smashed into several pieces on the ground.

Tang Thirty-Six moved.

The futon fell into countless pieces under him, and an obviously poisonous smoke filled the air.

He rolled and crawled towards the snow-covered courtyard.

Obviously, there was no Tang family defense force in the ancestral hall, but he had made preparations in advance.

But he didn't expect at the time that the person who wanted to kill him would actually be a worshiper of the Tang family.

The poisonous smoke in the futon is certainly very powerful, but how can it poison the other party?

Lao Zongfeng was an elder of the Changsheng Sect back then. His true energy was extremely deep, and his realm had already reached the peak of gathering stars, and he could be called half-step sacred.

Not to mention that Tang Sanliu was in the first stage of gathering stars, even if he suddenly burst out with ten times his strength, how could he withstand this critical attack?

He rolled and crawled towards the courtyard, how could he leave the scope of the palm wind?

The old worshipper's palm fell like a mountain.

The wind and snow in the courtyard of the ancestral hall seemed to be pulled by an invisible force. The wind was calm and the snow fell slowly.

Seeing that the palm of the old worshipper was about to fall on Tang Sanliu's head.

Suddenly, the wind in the courtyard came to life again, and snowflakes fell one after another.

A sword light appeared in the wind and snow.

This sword light was extremely bright, illuminating the wintersweet snow benches in the courtyard and the eyes of the assassins.

This sword was bright and extremely eerie, it had absorbed all the breath, as if it had been contaminated by fallen leaves and dust for more than a hundred days, and had become one with the ancestral hall.

The few snowflakes falling from the sky suddenly turned red.

It was stained red with blood.

There was an incredible look on the old priest's face.

The wind roared in the palm.

The sword light moved silently.

All the candles in the ancestral hall were immediately extinguished.

The densely packed tablets fell down one after another.

Countless palm prints and sword marks appeared on the beams and walls.

There was a soft sneer, and the ancestral hall fell silent again.

The old worshipper stood on the stone steps in front of the ancestral hall.

His left palm was pierced by a sword and blood was flowing.

There was also a deep sword mark on his left chest, and blood gradually overflowed.

His right palm overlaps with the opponent's left palm.

His opponent was a man dressed as a servant.

The man was very ordinary, with no distinguishing features.

In the past five years, this man's shoulders have been slumped, just like Wang Po on Jiming Mountain outside the city at this time.

But that didn't work today, because his left wrist to shoulder had been shattered by the force of the old worshipper's palm.

Who is this person? He actually fought against the Tang family’s old minister and ended up with a lose-lose outcome!

Even if it was a sneak attack, this is still unbelievable.

…

…

The old priest vaguely remembered this person, he should be the mute servant in the ancestral hall.

Of course he knew at this time that the other party could never be an ordinary mute servant.

And the other party is not a master of the Tang family arranged by the old man, because he knows all the secrets of the Tang family.

So who is this master who pretended to be a mute servant and cleaned the courtyard of the Tang family ancestral hall for half a year?

To be able to successfully sneak attack a half-step divine strongman, he must be a very professional assassin, and his level must be similar.

The pinnacle of gathering stars? There is only one assassin of this level in the mainland today.

When the old priest knew the identity of the other party, his eyes narrowed and he shouted: "Do it!"

This was naturally said to those white-clothed assassins.

But at this most critical moment, he forgot one very important thing.

The white-clothed assassins rushed towards Tang Sanliu in the courtyard, their sword intent was sharp and sinister, countless times colder than the snow in late winter, making people shudder.

Countless rays of cold sword light appeared in the dancing wind and snow, followed by the sounds of sharp blades breaking through bodies and muffled sounds.

The blood was sprinkled on the snow in the courtyard, which was particularly dazzling.

Several assassins fell in a pool of blood, no longer breathing.

These assassins were very skilled and vigilant, but they never expected that the sneak attack would come from their companions.

The sharp and sinister sword intent enveloped the courtyard of the Tang Family Ancestral Hall.

The mute servant retreated into the courtyard.

The seven assassins in white walked to his side.