Museum of Demons

　　 Wan Qiniang looked at the long sword in Wei Yuan's palm, her lips opened slightly, and she suddenly smiled and said:

　　 "That's it...but I won't be dead."

　　 "Which one of us lives or dies, we have to try first."

　　 Her black hair grew again behind her back, contaminated with cold water vapor, her fingers were blue and white, but her nails were sharp and black, while the red dress became enchanted, stained with dark spots, revealing a mottled ancient meaning.

　　 She changed back to the state of a ghost again.

Zhou Yi and Xuan's expressions suddenly changed. Wei Yuan and Wan Qiniang couldn't hear clearly the words of Wei Yuan and Wan Qiniang, but they could understand the change. They immediately wanted to step forward to help, but the wind in the ghost domain suddenly changed. It had to be violent, they ran out of talisman, and they were in a state of losing their strength, unable to move forward.

　　 Wei Yuan holds a sword in both hands.

　　 The blood on the sword turned into golden talisman.

　　 When she saw Wan Qiniang re-transforming into a ghost, she closed her eyes.

Then he drank in a low mouth, rushed forward quickly, watching the ghost’s heart position with his eyes, his footsteps suddenly stopped, and the sword in his hand was handed out. It was the simplest and most fierce straight stab, but from the experience of the battlefield, let He made this sword to the fullest.

Power rises from the feet, waist, legs, arms, shoulders, and finally to the wrists. Every muscle that should be used is used; from the ground under the feet to the blade, every joint collision transfers the power, and finally it is perfectly infused. To the blade.

　　 To do such a perfect action.

　　 Wei Yuan didn't think anything.

　　 This comes from the experience of the life and death of the Qi's army.

　　On the battlefield where you die in the blink of an eye, you don’t need to think about such complicated body movements.

The sword blade that smeared the blood of the Crouching Tiger Captain did not hinder the slightest bit. It penetrated Wan Qiniang's heart, and her arms and nails avoided Wei Yuan like the old man just now, as if sending their heart to the sword. The same on the blade.

　　 The blood on the sword severely destroyed the soul body.

　　 "Why?"

　　 Wei Yuan asked with a sword.

　　 Wan Qiniang's face turned pale, her lips pursed and she didn't answer.

　　 Over the ghost domain, strange vitality began to fluctuate violently.

The illusion woven by the thoughts of the soul was broken little by little. The tall buildings, pavilions, and gardens disappeared, revealing the true appearance of collapsed and dilapidated, the rolled up withered grass was blown by the wind, and finally the violent wave swept through, and the entire ghost domain was completely declared. disappear.

　　 The aftermath before it disappeared made Zhou Yi and Xuan Yi grunt and went into a coma.

　　The thing in Xuan Yi's hand fell to the ground, made a soft noise, and started to move.

　　 Wei Yuan also received a positive impact, but the power of exorcism covered his body with a film-like shield, and a large part of the damage was shaved off, but his face became pale, and a trace of blood shed from the corner of his mouth.

　　 The soul body is injured, the external trauma is not obvious, but the power will continue to flow away.

　　 Wan Qiniang's soul body gradually became transparent, returning to heaven and earth.

　　 She looked at Wei Yuan and suddenly smiled and said:

　　 "When Mr. Wei came just now, he said, "I want to listen to Qiniang?"

　　 "...not bad."

　　 "Is the son still elegant and leisurely now? I want to sing another song."

　　 Wei Yuan nodded slightly.

　　 Wan Qiniang stood in front of Wei Yuan, regretting:

　　 "It's just a pity, there are no instruments, so I can only sing a cappella."

　　 "Why is this difficult?"

Wei Yuan sat on a piece of bluestone, placed the eight-faced Han sword that was already at its limit horizontally on his knees, and tapped the blade with his fingers. The force was different, the place of the strike was different, and the sound was completely different. Suddenly, it seemed to be playing music, but The voice of Jintie, after all, is stout.

　　 Wei Yuandao:

　　 "I play a sword and a song for the girl."

　　 "You have a son."

　　 Wei Yuan's movements paused and said, "Mr. Jiang, he has always apologized in his heart."

　　 Wan Qiniang lowered her eyebrows and said softly:

　　 "The matter is over, what's the point of mentioning it again?"

　　 "I don't want to forgive them either."

　　 "Well, this is also natural."

　　 Crouching Tiger Captain, finger flicking sword.

The wind flow was blown away by the rain and the wind. Among the dilapidated pavilions, the ponds were also withered. All the beautiful benefactors of the year were gone. The rouge shop had no customers. In the distance, high-rise buildings rose from the ground. Prosperity is like a dream, but when the girl raised her hand, she shook her sleeves, her eyebrows tactfully, and her mouth low.

　　 That is still Jiangnan back then.

　　…………

　　 Zhou Yi opened her eyes blankly.

　　 She immediately recalled the scene before the coma, and gave a shock.

　　 is almost instinctive, rolling to one side, at the same time, he drew the half-handle sword in his hand, raised his eyes, and was taken aback.

　　 I don't see that ghost anymore.

The surrounding area is no longer the vast and vast ghost theater garden. You can see the dilapidated appearance everywhere. The trees have fallen and rotted, and faint moss has grown, and mushrooms have grown on one side, and on the windows of ancient buildings. A white cobweb is formed.

　　 The lotus pond withered.

　　 It's no longer gloomy here, it's just run-down.

　　 Wei Yuan sat with his back to the two on the blue stone.

　　 Zhou Yi breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Are you okay,...Where is Wan Qiniang?"

　　 Wei Yuan said lightly: "The soul is broken and returned to heaven and earth."

　　 "It's fine if you wake up, I should go too."

　　 He stood up.

Qiniang has disappeared, but the pair of red embroidered shoes that were one of the basis for the existence of the ghost is still there. The ferocious aura dissipated, but it is still not an ordinary object. It may attract the alienation and use of the lonely ghost, and Wei Yuan finds it I put a wooden box, UU reading www.uukanshu.com put the embroidered shoes and the stack of letterheads away.

　　 He thought of the words Qiniang said before disappearing.

　　 Then he opened the black umbrella, turned and walked out.

　　 Zhou Yi saw that the eight-faced sword that had gone through bitter battle was inserted in front of the blue stone.

　　While Wei Yuan’s fingers were red and swollen, blood was shed. Seeing that Wei Yuan had already raised his hand and pushed the door and was about to leave, Zhou Yi subconsciously shouted, "Who are you?!"

　　 Wei Yuan did not look back, and replied:

　　 "Just ordinary people looking at a museum."

　　 "If you have some kung fu, you can come and have a look."

　　 He opened the door and walked out along the stone road. The rain had stopped, and the stone slabs were faintly reflecting light. A tour guide led a group of tourists passing by here, using a loudspeaker to introduce:

"...Look here, everyone. This is the most complete ancient street in Jiangnan Road. There used to be many stalls. Look here, this is Jixiangfang, a famous big rouge shop in Jiangnan in the past. Women want to be able to Use the good rouge here..."

"Also, in the past, Chunxiaoyuan, also known as Chunxiaolou, the two major theaters in Jiangnan Road during the Ming Dynasty, will be open to everyone soon. When you enter for tea, there will be our theater team on the stage. Singing operas, let everyone experience the ancient Da Ming style..."

　　 The tourists nodded in admiration.

　　 Among them, there are two little girls who are only six or seven years old. While discussing the ancient style of the favorite theater, while learning the appearance on TV, one hand is raised and the other is curling the sleeves, innocent and innocent.

　　 In the sound of footsteps.

　　 Wei Yuan held the umbrella and passed the tourists.

　　 each other walked far away.

　　 At the mist and rain on the Jiangnan Tower, how many romantic past events, and who remembers?

　　 can't remember.