C3

There was a small hill near Ping An Prefecture that was very low in height, but it was pretty green. The woods were lush, and there were also quite a number of birds and beasts, but they were missing large carnivores, so the road up there was relatively smooth and safe.

Now was the time for the mosquitoes to spawn, so the mosquitoes did not flourish. Chen Yuan, in order to hide himself, did not rub any insect repellent medicine on his body. He even implicated the scholars to protect the mosquitoes.

Chen Yuan looked up and saw a swarm of mosquitos. Suddenly, a snow owl flew by.

Fortunately, the design of the clothes was very, very arrogant. The long sleeves of the clothes were cut to fit the clothes, and each piece was made from materials unique to the Mt. Tai. The best embroidery work was done with a Three-legged Golden Crow embroidered with golden threads on the front of the scholar's shirt, wearing a white porcelain mask.

Chen Yuan, on the other hand, was completely covered by a big piece of clothing. On the front of his clothes was embroidered a large pained eye, and on the white porcelain mask on his face was carved a vast ocean.

The two of them stood quietly in the tree, staring at a small path under the tree.

"How long until we arrive?" Chen Yuan Yuan still asked, bringing himself into the deeper parts of the leaves.

"According to his speed …" The scholar paused for a moment as if he was calculating something. He stretched out his finger and glanced at the butterfly attached to his finger. After pondering for a moment, he said, "About the time it takes to drink a cup of tea …"

"Oh." He didn't know what Chen Yuan's sudden realization made him understand, but then he fell silent.

The entire hill was filled with the rustling of insects, one after another, echoing through the grass.

After the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the bundle of grass was stomped flat by a foot. The moonlight revealed a miserable figure.

His white clothes were stained with blood, showing a dark red color. His steps were unsteady, his face was pale, and his clothes were tattered. He had the basic appearance of a homeless dog.

Under the dim moonlight, the two people on the tree had already seen the man's face. It was determined and cold.

Of course, there was also hatred.

His shame would make the city pay a hundred times over.

When I return, it will be the time when this city will be filled with blood.

He must kill all the chickens and dogs here.

The killing intent was gathering, and the flames in his eyes were burning.

However, at this moment, he only wanted to hurry to the neighboring prefectures and find the rest of the people in the Wu Shuang Palace to save his brother.

If it wasn't for the fact that most of his time was spent on the skill, who would save that trash? Being together with him would only waste resources that were supposed to belong to him in the first place.

But now, the dregs who normally wouldn't dare to show their faces appeared in the dark, wanting to kill the seriously injured him. However, the dregs were just dregs, even if he was seriously injured, the seriously injured lion wouldn't die in the mouth of a dog.

As long as he could cross this mountain, there would be hope for him.

The vision of hope brought physical strength.

Unfortunately, he had already been targeted by Chen Yuan.

Chen Yuan slightly nodded his head. When he saw that the scholar didn't make a sound, he lightly flicked his leg. With a "sou" sound, his shadow already covered the top of the Han family's big brother's head like a dark night bat hunting for food.

The hand, the sword, and the results of a long period of training showed themselves. Even under such difficult circumstances, the elder brother Han Zhong did not lose a single martial artist's agility. The sword's aura surged like a great river, surging towards the scholar's abdomen.

The [Accumulation Sword] stance.

Everyone thought that the Han brothers from the Flower Room were good at summing up things up, but very few people knew that Han Zhong of the Han Clan was still practicing the "Torrents of the River" from the "Three Sword Styles after the Second Style" in the Unparalleled Palace.

"Torrential River Tsunami" was one of the three realms of Form, Force and Meaning. Han Zhong had already comprehended Form, but it was just one step away from Force.

However, as expected of a seeded figure, Han Zhong had yet to reach the realm of 'Force'. He had found a different path, and found the lost Sword Style, which contained a sword intent.

The blade of the sword, which had been hidden for three years and nine months, let out a shrill cry as it stabbed into the scholar's body, carrying with it blood and flesh.

Unfortunately, the person he met was a scholar.

Chen Yuan had never known what the level of a scholar was.

Ten people against fifty people in the ninth grade, a hundred people in the eighth grade, the seventh grade, the Wind and Cloud Movement, and the sixth grade, the one and only move, Qingcheng.

It could be counted with one's fingers, and with one strike, he had killed a spy from the imperial court, the moment he had attacked, he had instantly killed him. He had also secretly killed an elder, who had returned home from his travels, and his methods were quite quick, after killing someone, he had come back less than half a day later, he had traveled eight hundred li in a day, and when he had arrived, he had arrived clean and untainted.

Thus, Chen Yuan Yuan only speculated that the scholar was very powerful, and was finally able to see it today.

Facing this sword, the scholar did not have any special reaction. He extended his hand and lightly rubbed the surface of the sword.

It was just like how he would appear in Chen Yuan's room on time without any hindrances to the rain or shine. He used a cloth to wipe the table, the bed and the chairs dry and quiet.

However, the sword did not become any brighter like Chen Yuan's table.

Under Han Zhong's astonished eyes, it slowly turned into pieces, spreading out like a butterfly and flying away.

However, there were still drops of blood on the floor. One drop, two drops.

The scholar blocked the sword, but he did not block it.

Even if it was fake.

He landed lightly on the ground, his injuries never-ending.

The wound on his abdomen did not affect the scholar's movements at all. He raised his left hand, and three toothpicks that had been painted black flew out. Next was the toothpick in his right hand.

In such a similar situation, the heavily injured Han Zhong was unable to avoid those six toothpicks.

If he could dodge it, he wouldn't be at the eighth level and would have long since broken through the limit and reached the seventh level.

Therefore, he could only choose to dodge the toothpick above and be pierced into the dantian's Qi Sea, becoming a cripple. He could only be killed or stabbed in the forehead with a toothpick and die on the spot.

However, right at this time, Chen Yuan burst out with vulgarities. "Soy sauce can be found everywhere?" With that, he tapped his feet, turned his palm into a soft palm, and shot a long sword at the scholar. "Bind the mountain."

Then, he saw the dying Han Zhong pull out a broadsword, and with a slight shake, the toothpicks were all knocked to the ground.

A thick voice rang out. It was the man holding the sword who stood between the scholar and Han Zhong like an iron shield. He said with a smile, "Insolent bastard. Killing people on the street. Is there still any law?"