My Beloved

The sky is deep, the mist is not yet exhausted, and the sky is gray and blue.

Wang Jinsheng sat neatly dressed in the courtyard, hiding in Tibet for more than three hundred days. This group of killers, like maggots attached to bones, like shadows, has made this young man in sixtieth tired to deal with.

The last time I took a bath and changed clothes on this day, I sent back all the masters in the big inner city, and the dress was no longer as simple as before, and it was solemnly like going to a funeral.

However, after half an hour, two silent shadows suddenly appeared behind him, like a feather falling to the ground without the slightest sound.

The male and female voices were indifferent, without a trace of emotions that a person should have, but the danger was undoubtedly revealed, "My lord is so capable. I have avoided us for more than a year."

Wang Jinsheng laughed a little on his solemn face when he heard the words, and the morning breeze was slightly biting, adding a sense of desolation, "It turns out that it has been more than a year..."

There are dead leaves all over the courtyard. The climate in this mountaintop temple is different from usual. Summer is still at the foot of the mountain, but autumn is already here.

Bai Bone looked at Ghost Seventeen, his tone of voice was as flat as a dead person popping out of a coffin, numb and decayed, "Think clearly, he died, or did you die together?"

The light in Ghost Seventeen's eyes was flickering, and his delicate face was hidden in the darkness. After watching the old man's back for a long time, he walked with the sword in his hand, and saw the old man's gray hair and wrinkles on his face. The old man was very energetic and looked at him. But it is very desolate and pitiful.

The seventeen ghosts felt that the sword in his hand was so heavy that he couldn't hold it.

Such people are dying, but those who are like worms are still alive safe and sound. This world is truly cruel and unfair.

Wang Jinsheng looked at the expression of the person in front of him, and caught sight of the slightly trembling sword in his hand. He was silent for a long while, the stern and mighty expression on his face was exhausted, and he whispered slowly like a kind and ordinary old man, "I have been to the north and south of the country this year. With everything I want to see, the world is stable and the people live and work in peace, enough...

It's also time to meet the deceased. "He slowly closed his eyes, with a calm expression, like a world-born expert, realizing the impermanence of the world and making good luck, "Do it." "

The bones looked on with cold eyes, as if it was not a human life, but a piece of wood.

There were tears in the eyes of Ghost Seventeen, and the sword in his hand trembled more and more, suddenly he raised his hand and swung a very light sword, and the blood was flowing in front of him for a while.

This sword was not a life but his life's faith.

He stood silently for a while, put down the sword in his hand, slowly walked away on his knees, put the old man respectfully in the box, got up and bent over and handed it to the bone.

The white bone stretched his sword and hooked the box, without any extra eyes, "Clean up, don't leave any traces."

The words are still in my ears, and the person in front of me is no longer visible. The man who is bent over has not straightened his back, and a drop of tears fell on the ground.

Thousands of miles away, the courtyard on one side is extremely wide. From a distance, there is a long lake with a horizontal pavilion standing on it. In the pavilion, one person enjoys tea and enjoys the lotus, and the sunlight shines through the rows of bamboo curtains on the pavilion. .

Chu Xing walked quickly holding a wooden box with a strange expression, "My son, someone gave you something."

Qin Zhi picked up the tea cup, closed his eyes and sniffed, took a sip, "open it and take a look."

Chu Xing hesitated for a moment and opened the box. Inside was a human head, nearly forty years old, dumbfounded and horribly dead.

Qin Zhi's hand holding the tea cup was slightly stagnant, as if being disgusted, he raised his eyes to look at Chu Xing with a light expression.

Chu Xing looked innocent and even felt a little wronged in his heart. Isn't this why you should open up and take a look?

The warm atmosphere slowly faded away. He hurriedly closed the box and handed over another letter, and said anxiously: "This letter is also sent together."

Qin Zhi put down the tea cup, reached out and took the letter and opened it. There were only a few words on the white paper, ‘Dark Factory Ghost Sect, the mission is complete. ’

Chu Xing glanced'inadvertently' and couldn't help but said, "This man seems to be a disciple of Lord Wang."

Qin Zhi closed the blank note, as if he had expected it long ago, "Wang Jinsheng can assist the emperor to deal with the affairs of the court, but his eyes are not good. He has carefully taught him for more than ten years, and ended up in the hands of his disciples."

Hearing the words, Chu Xing was not worth it for Lord Wang, he glanced at the box in his hand and said, "Master, then...how to deal with this end?"

He put down the blank note, "Since Wang Jinsheng has given me a letter of recommendation, it will be treated as a return."

Suddenly a person walked in the distance, and a few leaps and fell in front of him, Chu Fu held the sword and arched his hands with a solemn expression, "Master, Lord Wang is gone."

"Ah!" Chu Xing was surprised, Chu Fu glanced at him, and he hurriedly reduced his features.

Qin Zhi looked down and said nothing.

Chu Fu opened the mouth and said: "The scene was treated with carrion water, and there was no bone left, only the blood that seeped into the soil, and there was no trace of it."

Qin Zhi looked calmly at the square wooden box. The old man had chatted and laughed happily with him, and the people's livelihood was suffering in his words, but now he lost his life in Huangquan and was buried in the wilderness.

Such encounters are sad for those who hear it, and tears for those who see it, but those who are a little bit ordinary will know how to feel sad.

Qin Zhi was silent for a long time before sighing slightly, as if he was mourning, but there was no emotion on his face, as if the old man died tragically, but it was just as ordinary as leaves and flowers falling.

The dark factory is the biggest cancer in the arena. It doesn't respect the law and righteousness. It doesn't care about human life, right and wrong, good or evil. It only acts on profit, and it sells for whoever pays the high price.

There is no benevolence, justice and morality, only interests are the top priority. As long as you can afford to pay the price, it can help you do it.

This kind of power that wanders in the dark cannot even be controlled by the court, because it is invisible and invisible, and no one knows what it is?

One of the masters in Ouchi escaped that day, but he couldn't escape after being stained with incense. Naturally, she didn't need to deal with this little matter. She went back to the dark factory with a square wooden box.

This is an underground palace, no one knows how to go this way?

To get to the dark factory, you need to cross the heavy mountains and stacks of obstacles. From time to time, there are beasts and beasts. Ordinary people can easily die. After passing this place, you can reach the hidden path in the mountain. The steps are dangerous, and tens of thousands of worms will come out after one step is taken. , Eating flesh and bones is just a matter of a moment.

When the bones crossed the secret tunnel, he shot the square wooden box in his hand toward the hole beside the road. The cave was not bottomed, and the inside spread out in all directions. The wooden doors were closed one by one, and the square wooden box slid smoothly to the bottom along the other hole.

There is a huge dark palace at the end of the cave. Wooden frames are built up to the height of five floors. There are people on each floor, going back and forth like puppets.

One person took the square wooden box, opened the box, took out the human head inside, and checked it carefully, as if it was not a human head, but a work of art.

After the inspection, he put his head on the wide belt running in front, and said loudly: "Wang Jinsheng, Guizong."

The voice reverberated layer by layer in the huge dark palace, and the person underneath held a pen and paper, heard the words and lifted the notebook, and the head with him slowly transported down.

The person recording took up the human head, walked to the back of the cabinets stacked on top of each other, and opened the cabinet to which cold air was blowing. The ice was densely covered, and it turned out to be a natural ice cellar. The person put the human head in it and returned. Record the next one.

The white bone went out of the secret tunnel and went into a deep hole. In front of him was a deep pool of water, calm and dangerous, as if something terrible would suddenly be drilled out of the water.

She stepped into the water step by step, going deeper and deeper, and the water slowly reached the top, and then went to the bottom of the water after a sinking, holding her breath and diving for a long time under the invisible water.

Only then did he swim to a faint light source, drilled along the gap, quickly upstream, and suddenly got out of the water.

The huge cave came into view, and the bones slowly walked out of the water, and someone immediately greeted them respectfully with a blanket, "Respectfully welcome Elder Bai."

The white bone raised his hand to signal that he did not need it. He secretly gained his inner strength, and white smoke appeared on his clothes. After a while, his clothes and shoes dried up.

Another person came out of the water behind, and Bai Bone looked back and found that it was Gu Zong Qiu Chanzi.

The author has something to say: Wang Jinsheng: "Excuse me, why the old man, Ji Fu, can live so long, but the official can only make soy sauce drops?"

Ji Fu: "Tobe, ornottobe, thatisaquestion~"

Wang Jinsheng: "Yeah!"

Ji Fu: "Bah!"

Wang Jinsheng: "Bah, baah, baah!"

Dan Qingshou: "Ahem, you two pay attention to the style of painting..."