As soon as the word "sword" was released on July 14, a sharp sword wind had already hit Fang Jie on his head and faced him. The sword was like a silver snake, and Fang Jieren would never have thought that this colleague who had been in the past for a long time could still take such a fierce killing move even after his death.

I only love one thing in my life and practice one move in my life.

Fang Jie didn't know that even though he had been dead for a long time on July 14th, even if he had arrived at the underworld, he had never put down the thing in his hand that had long been regarded by him.

Of course, Fang Jie has seen this move of Seventy-Two Hate Swords for no less than tens of thousands of times. The world's martial arts are only fast and not broken. This is a truth that a three-year-old child knows. Moreover, Fang Jie not only saw this sword technique, but he is more confident that if he uses this sword technique, it will definitely be thousands of times more than the top 14 of July that he only practices this move in his lifetime! Moreover, the sword coming towards him is simply a mess of using it in July 14, apart from the momentum of shocking momentum, it is simply a mess!

A thousand threads of hatred are broken by one sword. The most important thing about the so-called hatred sword is how to break a thousand threads with one sword.

For mortals who do not practice half of spiritual awareness, of course, can only cut one sword with one move, which is of course nonsense.

Of course, July 14th is not a personal name. Of course, the little seven in front of him would not have such an unknown name after being born.

His real name is Wu, and he has an older brother and two younger sisters. His parents are both from the field, so of course they don’t know how to give their children a nice name. So before he was five years old, he was always called Wu Er, a lazy Wu Er.

Born in troubled times, children who have learned to walk among the village neighbors will help their families do some farm work within their ability. However, Wu Er never even moved his butt and got out of bed and walked even half a step away from the bed. He had to work after getting out of bed, and he worked for the sake of eating. Since he had to fill his stomach, why should he go out of bed?

Until he was seven years old, his parents and brothers met a robber on the way to the market. All five of them, even the big ones, were killed by the group of green forest robbers.

And he was thanks to his slutty sleep and stayed in bed to save his life.

When the news came to his ears, the little scoundrel who had been lazy for seven years had already been lying on the straw mat at home and almost starved to death. On that day, the neighbors in the village pity the child was still young and finally gave him a bowl of noodle soup. To be grateful, it was the first time he went to work in the field that day, and it took him a whole day and a night to help the neighbor clear the pigpen. That day was the first time he was paid with his own hands, and it was also from that day that he never wanted to sleep for a day.

When he was twelve years old, he accidentally saw a righteous hero defeating five robbers who wanted to tie him up the mountain to be the wife of the village. On his way to follow the righteous man and want to become a disciple, he saw that the righteous hero was revenge by the twenty or thirty robbers called by the thieves again.

Two fists are hard to beat four hands, not to mention that this man has to face twenty or thirty robbers who kill without blinking, so the righteous man was chopped off his head on the spot and then five horses were dismembered.

He still remembered that after the righteous man took action to save people, the people on the street not only did not applaud him, but also did not avoid him as if he was evading the plague god.

He still remembered that after the group of cold-blooded and cruel robbers killed this man, he spat on his face and said ruthlessly: "Why are you a big guy without ability?"

He vomited for a while and immediately wet his pants. After a long time after the group of people walked away, he barely struggled to get up from the pile of filth he spit out.

He didn't know where he got the courage to walk next to such a pile of rotten meat that was so fishy that he could only bow to the hero who had lost his life, but he picked up a picture book of less than twenty pages from the pile of rotten meat. Even if he had no knowledge, he should have seen that the book was painted with a set of martial arts - the martial arts of killing people.

Just when the twelve-year-old Wu Er touched the treasure and ran back to the crowded street market, he immediately saw that the head of the hero was already hanging openly on the top of the city. Under the head with blood dripping blood, a black-word satin with white background was pulled up. The cloth satin clearly read: "The gift from the forty-two heroes in Qingcheng Mountain was unevenly taxed within half a month, and the blood-dripping East City was washed away!"

Under the head, there were already many passers-by who were pointing fingers around the inner and outer layers. Their words were nothing more than suffering from the rampant bandits and difficult to find a livelihood. More often than not, they accused the hero who had already lost his head of meddling in other people's affairs, angering the evil bandits who killed people without blinking, causing trouble in Dongcheng.

Wu Er did not squeeze into the crowd to look at the hero's face again. He left the city that day and found a mountain where the rabbit was caught and fell. He made up his mind that day to avenge the hero.

From then on, he began to practice kung fu according to the appearance of the booklet, and this practice lasted for twenty years.

It was not until later that this man finally made some achievements in the world and finally gained a lot of "knowledge". He finally realized that the martial arts tricks he had practiced in the past twenty years were the most useless "Seventy-Two Swords of Hate". He finally understood that the martial arts tricks in the world were as good as stars, and he spent twenty years to only understand one of them. However, even if this sword technique was useless, he could finally cut out twenty or thirty swords in the gap between others' swings a sword and fight him. If others attacked hundreds of moves, he could at least compete with tens of thousands of sword flowers.

During those twenty years, of course, this man was left to practice swords except for eating and sleeping, and spent his whole life practicing this most useless move.

Then he finally met three or two friends who were like him, and then they were even pulled into a place called "Eternal Sect" by an old man named Ding Fan.

At that time, he no longer remembered how many prominent figures he had killed in the world in order to try out the Death Sword Skill. At that time, he had long forgotten to kill a group of bandits of his family of five, perhaps still doing evil on a certain mountain. He had long forgotten the vow he made that day, to avenge him, and he had long forgotten what name he called.

In his life, except for the sword, and the death gates that visited the masters to understand this set of sword techniques. What he called him, where was his roots, and even his life was no longer important.

But he was still very lazy, too lazy to say a little nonsense, too lazy to learn half-stage swordsmanship, too lazy to learn spiritual awareness, and even too lazy to give himself a famous name.

He only knew that many people in the world called him "July 14th". The name is of course just a title for him - so he naturally called July 14th.

How could such a man who is loyal to the swordsmanship all his life cut such a mess of swordsmanship?

The sword at the beginning is not only weak and soft, like a woman's butterfly pounces on a butterfly, but the changes in the sword are even more obvious. Only one sword comes from the beginning, and the sword that changes are as poor as a sword.

Maybe the July 14, which regarded the sword more than life, was really taken away by the evil god's disaster. Maybe it was the July 14, which has been put on the sword technique that has been practicing for a lifetime for a long time.

How could this kind of three-year-old child, a rogue in the market, hurt Fang Jie at all? However, Fang Jie can only fight with him. One day, one year in the world, and the fourteenth day of July in the past few hundred years may just want to ask Fang Jie what is stronger, which is stronger, or diligent.

Therefore, Fang Jie immediately saw a flaw in July 14th, gritted his teeth and stabbed a sword hard.

However, what Fang Jie never expected was that the moment he set out his sword, the crack in his hand was inexplicably shaken away from his hand, and it broke into three parts in an instant. His neck cooled down, and the soft sword on July 14th licked his throat like a poisonous snake.

Everything was just in the blink of an eye, or all the changes this time had not even allowed Fang Jie to blink, and it had become a fact.

"This is the Seventy-Two Swords of Hate..."

July 14 stared at Fang Jie's eyes like a poisonous snake and continued coldly: "The one you have seen in the world... cannot be called the sword technique at all. This is the true appearance of the Seventy-Two Swords of Hate - you lost!"

On the coast of the coast, Guangzhou, Dongguan County.

Disasters will not be divided into the world; wars will occur everywhere, and no matter how poor or humble you are.

Regarding one's own safety, thousands of creatures in the world can only kill and stop killing except for escaping. For killing and root-killing, this large clan of humans has always been the most thorough and cleanest category among all things in the world.

Therefore, even this fishing village, which is thousands of miles away from the City of the Emperor, is of course the doors of every household are locked at noon this day, and the dogs dare not bark, and the chickens dare not crow. The fishing boats casting nets along the coast have naturally not gone to sea for several months, and the deck on the boat was even more salty and white by the sun.

Although this coastal fishing village is not as prosperous as the Central Plains, it is finally a large village built by thirty or fifty people along the mountains and seas. However, even though the people left in the village are less than two, to outsiders, this place still looks like an unpopular ghost town no matter what.

Less than five miles away from this crescent-shaped bay, a large bonfire was built at the moment when there were all the plants and trees. A large fish about two feet long was built on the bonfire.

Next to this pile of fire that shouldn't have appeared at this time, there was a man in white dressed in wine and wheat-skinned man lying on his side. The fish was a good fish that had just been caught from the sea, and the wine was also a good wine that had just been brought up from the wine cellar.

Isn’t this person the Chengyang who hasn’t seen for a long time?

It can be said to be:

The blue sea reflects the sky, and the wine is toast the sky.

How many things happen in life are all in jokes.

If you want to know what happens next, let’s talk about it next time...
Chapter completed!