My Darling Sick Beauty

The blood dripped from the sword and fell into the soil.

Jiang Zheliu clenched the Lingxiao sword, and the knuckles of his fingers were almost exhausted and cracked. In his action of closing up his fingers, he made mud marks.

He could not detect any residual spiritual power in his body.

What you can see is the bright red that spreads and falls from the Lingxiao sword. Every inch of it has dyed the land of China red.

The River breaks the willow to prop up the body.

The meridians in his body have long been crushed by the impact of the boundary membrane. Now he can stand up with a sword, but it is only half a step to maintain the realm of Jinxian.

The aura continuously drawn from heaven and earth stops immediately after the membrane is repaired. The sky is covered with thick clouds, and the setting sun is like blood.

Jiang Zheliu closed his eyes, his eyes were dark and calm. He stopped for a moment, then opened it again, drew his sword, turned around and put the Lingxiao sword into the sheath.

Lingxiao sword is not only the leader's sword inherited from Lingxiao sect, but also the symbol of the highest power of Lingxiao sect. It lies low in the palm of the river broken willow, making a deep tremor and low sound, but then it is suddenly silent, no sound.

When Jiang Zheliu turns around, the clouds are spreading behind him. The glow of the setting sun is shining through the clouds. His black hair turns into snow. It is clear that his immortal robe is loose and ethereal, but it is extremely thin.

The boundary membrane has been repaired, and the catastrophe that China will face has disappeared in his hands.

I wish you no heart to look at him from a distance.

He looked at the leader's elder martial brother's long white hair, which broke away from the constraint of the hair crown, and was blown by the wind. He watched his clothes, which were never stained with dust, drip blood, gradually expand, and turn into dazzling bright red.

He looked at Jiang Zheliu's sword and the clouds behind him, as if heaven and earth were seeing him off.

I don't know if he is going to die.

He stares at Lingxiao sword.

At the same time, he is also looking at this elder martial brother who has been pressing himself for more than a thousand years.

Jiang Zheliu wanted to suppress the channels in his body. He calmly asked Zhu Wuxin. But he couldn't suppress it. After only two steps, he was held back by the pain of the five internal organs. He held the scabbard for a moment, and the smell of sweet came over his lips.

I wish you didn't come to help him.

But Jiang Zheliu doesn't need these. The more frail he is, the more he can feel a distinct sense of relief. If it didn't hurt too much, he might still smile at his younger martial brother and entrust Lingxiao sect to him.

It's just a return. Jiang fanliu thought.

Zhu Wenyuan, the first leader of Lingxiao school, is an innocent father. He is only a disciple of master Wenyuan, and the younger martial brother in front of him is the one who has been handed down by blood.

Jiang Zheliu came to his younger martial brother.

The clouds are surging, and the afterglow is covered. The surging aura is revived. On the peak which was as quiet as death, it is now reviving. Sprouts are sprouting from the cracks under its feet, and everything is renewed.

Jiang Zheliu avoids the new grass bud at his feet and gives him Lingxiao sword.

"Elder martial brother," Zhu Wuxin took the sword, looked around him and said, "why do you have to act alone, if there are other people to help..."

"There is only a half step golden immortal to touch the boundary membrane of the world, and you can find it in the realm of cultivation