Nightfall Chapter 108: The first battle in life
Chapter One Hundred and Eighth, The First Battle of Life
The small lakeside building hidden by the bamboo wall is quiet and dark. Underneath the middle-aged tea artist is a stone chair made of Kunhu stone, and in front of him is a tea table made of Kunhu stone. On the table is an ebony tea table. With the warm and clean teapot and cup, there is a small hand-held charcoal stove next to the table. The kettle on the stove has a faint hot mist from its mouth, which has not yet boiled.
Such a scorching summer night, the middle-aged tea craftsman seemed to not feel the heat from a small charcoal stove. With a single coat, he was calm as a hospitable host waiting for his return on a winter snowy night...He is Yan Suqing.
Ning Que was very sure of this. The sense of vigilance that grew out of Linhu Xiaozhu was finally confirmed at this moment, because the other party had noticed that he was coming in advance, and had already sensed his intention.
He glanced at the tea dregs under the roots of the bamboo wall with his light. After a moment of silence, he looked at the tea master in the chair and asked: "Then be more straightforward... I want to know that General Xuanwei's mansion was hacked by all the gates. Does the case of Yanbian Mountain Village and the massacre of Yanbian Mountain Village have anything to do with you?"
Yan Suqing frowned slightly, she didn't expect to come to kill her boy tonight because of those two things many years ago. He thought that no one in this world remembered those old things. After a moment of silence, he smiled and said: "Naturally it is related to me, otherwise, I, an official with unlimited prospects in the military, would become a tea seller now? The tea master at the nursing home?"
"I shouldn't be the first person you found." He looked at Ning Que and asked, "How are the other people doing now? I haven't seen each other for many years. I don't know what they are doing now." /
Ning Que silently observed Linhu Xiaozhu and the surrounding movement, looked at this clean and expensive residence, and replied: "They are not doing very well, at least not as good as you, and they can live in such a good place. "
Yan Suqing laughed and shook her head and said with emotion: "Do you know why they can't mix, but can I still live well? Because I am still useful to the empire."
The clothes draped indiscriminately, the water that has not boiled on the small charcoal stove, and the cup of tea in his left hand all indicate that the tea artist has just woke up, and he should have only noticed that Ning Que is close to Linhu Xiaozhu. Get up, instead of foreshadowing the situation in advance.
It's just a tea artist who looks weak and weak, dealing with the tea set spring water all day long. Why did he not call for help and run away when he knew someone was coming to kill him, but sitting in a chair waiting so peacefully? What does he rely on? And what use can a tea artist do to the empire? How can a tea master take care of the nursing home for a tea merchant? Why can a tea master have a better retirement life than Chen Zixian?
In an instant, Ning Que thought about a lot of possibilities, even the least possible one. The innocent brows and eyes outside the mask gradually showed an unprecedented solemn expression. He looked at the other person and asked, "Why don't you run away? ?"
"Why escape?"
Yan Suqing smiled and looked at the young man and said: "Since I am awake, how can you kill me?"
After saying this, he flicked his sleeves gently, and a dim little sword without a handle appeared on the stone table tea table.
Ning Que's brows frowned, and his body became a little stiff, knowing that he had encountered the most unlikely possibility: this weak and weak tea artist... is actually a practitioner!
At this moment, he couldn't help thinking of the conversation he had with the old man Lu Qingchen during the journey, the conversation about the many swordsmen of Chang'an City who were like dogs and walked all over the floor.
At that time, the old man Lv Qingchen laughed and said that this kind of argument was definitely too exaggerated. After entering Chang'an City, Ning Que had seen practitioners from the South Gate of Haotian Road open the altar and cast spells on the side of the road, and followed Chao Xiaoshu with the practitioners in the Chunfeng Pavilion. I did, but I didn't expect that a name that looked extremely humble in the revenge list was actually a strong man in that world.
There is no information in Zall's information, nor did Sangsang notice it. No one would have thought that the clerical appraiser of the former military department, and the tea master who is now supported by the tea merchant, is actually a practitioner who is proficient in the art of controlling the sword!
Ning Que's frowning eyebrows slowly stretched. He looked at Yan Suqing in the chair and the handleless sword in front of the thin middle-aged man. He smiled gently and said: "Since you don't run away, I'll run away. Up."
Fleeing as soon as he said to escape, he turned around without hesitation and rushed out of Linhu Xiaozhu like a galloping horse.
……
……
Yan Suqing was very interested in watching the young man disappearing behind the bamboo wall, chuckled and shook his head with emotion: "Since I have come to kill a cultivator, can I retreat?"
The words that are gentle but with strong self-confidence and murderous intent came out slowly from the thin middle-aged man’s lips. At the same time, he put down the big crude teacup in his left hand, rolled up the cuff on the left arm with his right hand, and ate in his left hand. The **** made a sword tactic at the same time and slanted towards the space point outside Linhu Xiaozhu, the movements were extremely chic and casual.
Following and slanting a finger, the dim and opaque small sword on the stone table tea table suddenly buzzed, as if it had been filled with some kind of magical energy, and it flicked off the table. Then it turned into a gloomy light trail, tearing open the darkest night before dawn at Linhu Xiaozhu, and piercing the courtyard.
Ning Que felt a needle-like pain on his back, but his eyebrows exposed outside the mask did not see any panic. He had only composure and calmness. He was about to rush out of the bamboo sea, but he unexpectedly left his foot heavy. As soon as he stepped on the ground, the whole person's body turned up, and then his right foot stepped on the thick bamboo like lightning.
Hey! Huh! Huh! Huh!
The solid soles quickly staggered on the bamboo, and the climbing bamboo tree shook for a while, and countless bamboo leaves fell like a broken feather arrow. He stepped on the bamboo tree and instantly climbed onto the courtyard wall. He dodged the sword light that struck in the courtyard dangerously, and then he bends his knees slightly and swiftly swept into the courtyard by the vibration of the bamboo trees.
With a sound, the sharp arrow-like body has just passed the courtyard wall, and the sharp Pudao has been out of the sheath and the cloth is in his hand. Ning Que snorted, his waist and abdomen turned his wrists, making Pudao feel like wind and snow. He smashed at Yan Suqing with his head and face!
After knowing that this tea master is a strong practitioner, he knew that tonight he would face the great horror test of life and death again. He knew that his current strength was not enough to fight a strong practitioner in the world of practice, but He still didn't think about retreating, because he knew that facing a practitioner, retreating meant death.
At the crossing of Beishan Mountain, he had seen how Peng Yutao’s most elite guards of the Tang Dynasty fought a great swordsman with iron will and discipline. Outside the Chunfeng Pavilion, he had seen how Chao Xiaoshu relied on With his own superb strength and powerful control, he killed two strong practitioners from foreign countries, from which he learned some experience, that is, facing a practitioner, he can only advance and cannot retreat, and this experience may allow him to escape death.
So at the beginning his withdrawal was not a withdrawal.
Instead, retreat to advance.
And then kill.
……
……
Ding's crisp sound!
Ning Que twisted his body and waved his knife, smashing into the dark sword light that came after him, and his body fell from mid-air.
On the first meeting, there was a gap the size of a grain of rice at the edge of the knife. There was a very small gap on the top of his tattered cloth robe. However, the eyebrows on the outside of his mask were still fearless, and his legs were like two nails. He stabbed on the ground, holding the long handle of Pu Dao tightly in both hands, and lowered his head vigilantly to observe the movement in the night.
Suddenly, he flipped the long knife in his hand, and at the cost of a blood stain on his left shoulder, avoided the sword light from the night on the right. At the same time, the slight vibration from his hand confirmed his blade. At least the flying sword was wiped.
Ning Que still lowered his head slightly, staring at Yan Suqing in a chair not far away, listening carefully to the slight buzzing in the night surrounding Linhu Xiaozhu, trying to judge the fly The orientation of the sword.
He took a step forward.
A falling bamboo leaf outside the courtyard was torn in half by invisible force.
He fell backwards like a mountain, and the dark shadow of the sword swept across his shoulder.
He slapped the ground hard with his right hand, his waist and abdomen tightened, and the mountain stood up again, his feet connected like lightning, and the dark shadow of the sword plunged into the cracks in the stone slabs at his feet with a snort, and then quickly buzzed Fly again and disappear without a trace.
He is standing now three steps back from the previous position.
The small oil lamp on the right side of the tea table was glowing with a faint brilliance, and Yan Suqing took a lot of time to sit in the stone chair, smiling but not smiling.
The distance between the two is only a few steps, but the darkness of these steps is so insurmountable.
Because no one knows where the dark sword shadow is in the night.
……
……
Holding the handle of the long knife with both hands, and stepping on the stone slab with both feet steadily, without stepping on the cracks or protrusions, to ensure that all the power of the earth can be borrowed at any time, and Ning Que stares motionlessly like a statue. The tea artist in the chair has no fear in his eyes, only calm and concentration.
This is the first time in his life that he has fought alone with a practitioner. He knows that he has no chance. He knows that he is very likely to die tonight, so of course he is afraid.
But after being tortured by life and death so many times, Ning Que knew very well that at this time, fear is the most useless emotion. Only by turning fear and tension into excitement can the word life and death be reversed.
The flying sword buzzed, lightning stabbed, and he swung the knife and slashed. Even if he cut through the air, he would avoid the vital parts at the last juncture with the combat instinct and strong body control ability polished out on the battlefield.
Ding ding ding ding! The sword was like a flying sword like snow, and his body was cut out by the sword shadow with countless dense holes. The blood penetrated the underwear and leaked out of the worn robe, and began to drip on the surface of his body, like a blood man.
But Ning Que still held the Pudao in both hands, his feet pierced on the stone slab like nails, staring at the strong man in the chair with no expression in his eyes, no panic, no fear, even what he should have when desperately. No fanaticism.
"The soldiers who came back from the border?"
Yan Suqing gradually constricted a smile, looked at the **** young man not far in front of him, calmly said: "Fourteen consecutive swords have not been able to stab you directly, leaving you with some small wounds. Only the frontier soldiers have this. This is a physical instinct. But I must remind you that even if the wound is small, the blood flow is very slow, but if it flows for a long time, it will die."
"I understand, so I will try to find an opportunity to chop off your head before the blood drains." Ning Que replied.
"You won't have this kind of opportunity." Yan Suqing looked at Ning Que sympathetically and shook her head.
At this time, the water on the small charcoal stove finally began to boil, and hot water mist sprayed out of the spout.
The tea artist uses his left hand to lift the kettle on the stove and pour it into the crude teacup. He looked at the tea leaves that were constantly floating and sinking by the boiling water, bowed his head and said: "I want to start drinking morning tea, so I won't play with you."