The moment he rushed into the yard, Guo Xiaojiu looked at the room through the window, and Ning Buer stood in front of the window.

He gently pushed open the door of the house, and Guo Xiaojiu noticed that Cui'er was not in the house, so he said softly: "The old blacksmith was killed, it was a flying sword."

"What?" Ning Buer frowned, as if her pink fist was clenched. Seeing Guo Xiaojiu's eyes looking, she explained in panic: "It's a letter from the Taoist master."

"If you don't want to say it, just don't say it." Guo Xiaojiu helped Kong Jiansheaven behind him, turned around and closed the door.

He walked to the recliner, slowly removed the sword, and continued, "But the old blacksmith cannot die in vain, I have to find out."

"I'll leave tomorrow." Ning Buer seemed to have not heard Guo Xiaojiu's words and said blankly in the yard.

"Pa!" Guo Xiaojiu couldn't help but tampered the scabbard twice, as if expressing his dissatisfaction. His voice was a little dull, and his heart was also a little dull.

"Why don't you ask why?" Ning Buer turned around and walked towards Guo Xiaojiu, and stopped until he reached the extinguished stove a few days ago.

Her eyes were a little weird, half of which was expectation and reluctance, half of which was hatred and disgust.

"Your injury has healed, and we all have our own things to do." Guo Xiaojiu pursed her lips: "Just as Han Changli said, if you like someone, you don't have to be together all the time, you just need to appear when she needs you the most."

"That old blacksmith knew about your and my identity, and was wiped out by my friend." Ning Buer finally breathed a sigh of relief, but his heart was obviously still a little heavy.

Guo Xiaojiu also breathed a sigh of relief. He was about to tap the scabbard again, but stopped his hand in time.

"Tomorrow we will send a bowl of wine to the old blacksmith, let's go together."

"Okay!" Ning Buer agreed readily: "That person wants to see you."

"I'll go." Guo Xiaojiu agreed very decisively.

This place is still far away from the imperial capital, and it is drizzling this day, not as expected.

The white-clothed scholar Han Changli was still rushing to the road. He was holding a broken paper umbrella that could no longer completely cover the rain. Despite this, he still turned the paper umbrella to the right.

A young Taoist boy turned his head gratefully, smiled intently, revealing two newly grown front teeth.

The old Taoist priest kept nagging, unable to hear what he was nagging. The rain flowed along the old Taoist priest's cheeks to his neck, and he seemed to have no feeling at all.

"Master, this brother is very good. Do you think he looks like Du Shusheng? They are all great heroes in Yu'er's heart!!" Perhaps the little Taoist only remembered such a character after the old Taoist priest told the story of Du Shusheng.

"Like, Yu'er said it's like it, it's so much." The old Taoist priest squeezed out a smile on his face, and used his hands to wipe the rainwater that accidentally fell on the face of the Taoist priest with his hands.

Han Changli sniffed. It turned out that so many people remembered him in the entire Tang Dynasty. There was no too much expression on his face, and the umbrella did not tremble at all: "I'm so sorry, what can you do with a young student?"

"I don't look like today. One day I will become the second Du Shusheng. Young man. Since you said you want to enter the Hanlin Academy and want the top three in the list, I think you should have this confidence! Hehe." The old Taoist priest shook his sleeves and laughed.

Han Changli shook his head and never answered.

The long flute sounds in the mountains and forests, the sound of the flute is long and the moonlight is long.

The breeze blows, and the fragrance of flowers on the mountain is refreshing.

The old Taoist priest rubbed his hands, filled in two new firewood into the bonfire, rubbed his temples, and took off the bells on his waist.

, never shaken.

The little Taoist boy had already snored on the straw mat and fell asleep. He smashed his mouth from time to time, as if he was having some beautiful dreams.

The sound of the flute comes from Han Changli carrying a bookcase. When the song ends, he slowly put down the flute and looks at the stars covered by dark clouds through the green branches.

"Young Master is trapped by love?" The old Taoist priest narrowed his eyes and reached out to rub the gossip fish on his chest twice: "Would you like me, I'll do it for you?"

Han Changli pretended not to understand, and perhaps he had not heard the old Taoist priest's words, and lowered his head and searched randomly in the bookcase.

After a long time, Han Changli woke up quietly: "I thanked the old man, but Xiaosheng has no money."

"Oh, young people are nothing more than love. Although this is simple, only young people deserve the sloppy things like love."

The old Taoist priest put down his hand and withdrew the bell: "Forget it, the old man just talk more. When you meet someone you like, don't always think about holding it in your hand. Relax your heart. If you care about her, her heart will also be yours."

After smashing it, he slammed his mouth, the old Taoist priest narrowed his eyes slightly: "If you have more profound words, I can't say anything old man. Oh, I'm old, I'm going to rest too."

As he said that, the old Taoist priest had already lay beside the little Taoist boy, and soon afterwards, he snored like thunder.

At night, a gust of wind blew, but there was no sound, because the sound of the wind was covered by the sound of rain.

Guo Xiaojiu hugged his quilt and crawled into Ning Buer's room. Cui'er's girl was taken back to the room by her mother. He lay on the recliner, covering his body with the quilt, and even his entire head was covered in it.

Ning Buer always looked at this guy who was not at all honesty. She had cleaned the flying sword and changed into her own clothes.

"It's hard for you." Ning Buer chuckled and shook his head and said.

Perhaps, Ning Buer will only show a little playful look when others cannot see it.

"It's not difficult to do it. I can live in the same room with the fairy. This is a blessing for me to cultivate in three lives." Guo Xiaojiu stretched out the quilt with one hand and gave a thumbs up.

Ning Buer curled his smile and frowned slightly. This guy's virtue was exactly the same as the rumors of his master when he was young. Sure enough, birds of feathers gathered together.

"Why is the fairy not talking?" Guo Xiaojiu quietly showed a pair of black eyes from the quilt, glanced around the room, and then saw Ning Buer's contemplative look.

Ning Buer was still pondering, looking at the roof, holding the hilt of the sword in his hand, and gently rubbing it.

"Maybe, I don't want you to meet." Ning Buer's expressionless face and his tone was very weak.

"Why?" Guo Xiaojiu simply sat up and twisted his nose. Maybe his hair had rubbed against his nose just now, and itchy at this time.

"I just don't feel very good." Ning Buer looked at Guo Xiaojiu, and then he showed a little sincerity.

"Since you have agreed, you should do it. Should you see it tomorrow? Is it your little lover?" Guo Xiaojiu raised his eyebrows, turned his head, and glanced at his sword.

"You don't have a few serious words." Ning Buer was a little angry, but he added: "No."

Since it was not, Guo Xiaojiu's face was filled with smiles again: "What you want to meet, what you want to meet is your friend, and it will be my friend in the future."

"You can't be friends, and you may die." Ning Buer's eyes showed a little disdain, but it was hidden very well.

"It's impossible, it's impossible. What's the matter? Have I ever been afraid of anyone?

”

Guo Xiaojiu said seriously. When he saw the deep meaning in Ning Buer's eyes, he was still a little annoyed.

There was nothing to say all night. As soon as the next day was dawn, Guo Xiaojiu and Ning Buer left the house in the drizzle.

Regarding the promise she made before, Ning Buer just left a letter, which roughly means that she would come back to pick up Cui'er, the little girl, after she finished her work.

The two walked under the big locust tree, and the old blacksmith's body had been moved back to the blacksmith shop by the villagers.

Guo Xiaojiu took out the wine bag, took a large mouthful of it himself, and poured the rest under the old locust tree.

He gently wiped off the wine stains on the corner of his mouth: "Old blacksmith, don't blame me for not being able to avenge you, but I can't. I can't beat that person. I will definitely avenge you for a few more years."

"Tsk, who will remember this in a few years? It's not the hatred of killing your father, it's irreconcilable." Ning Buer was full of contempt for Guo Xiaojiu's words.

"That's you, I must remember." Guo Xiaojiu said, sighing deeply in the direction of the blacksmith shop: "Old blacksmith, you can rest assured that I will really avenge you."

Afterwards, Guo Xiaojiu followed Ning Buer and continued to walk forward in the drizzle.

The thin raindrops arrived around Ning Buer's body, and they avoided them one after another, entangled with other raindrops and landed on the ground.

Guo Xiaojiu doesn't have such skills. He learns killer moves, but these are just good-looking fancy methods. Even if he is envious in his heart, he always has to pretend to be disdainful in his face.

However, he was still thinking that he still had to learn these things. If he walks in the world in the future, if he encounters rainy days, he will always be much more grand.

After walking for a long time, Guo Xiaojiu remembered that he forgot to say goodbye, and turned his head and shouted at the distance: "Old blacksmith, you go well, I will leave too in the future. I will see you next time."

The two figures went further and further away, and had disappeared at the end of the town.

The south of Luoyang City is the exit of Luoshui. This endless river goes south.

After walking along Luoshui for more than ten miles, a mountain blocked Luoshui's way. It could only obediently take a walk and turn east.

At this time, a middle-aged monk walked slowly down the mountain along the path of sheep intestine on the mountain.

In addition to an old monk's robe, there are no Buddhist beads, no wooden fish, and no Zen sticks to bless the monk. The monk's robe is also the lowest-level monk in ordinary temples.

But the monk was very optimistic, every step he took was very steady, with a smile on his face. The rain moved with his steps, and it automatically splashed and fell in a random way.

He whispered in his mouth, reading the morning class that he should have finished in the temple today, walking along the way.

His voice was very crisp, just like the morning birds, filling another beautiful sound in the forest.

As his recitation stopped, the rain gradually stopped, and the birds in the forest poked their heads out and began to search for the pleasant sound just now.

The monk stopped and was already standing on the top of a small hill. He looked up and saw a small town in his eyes.

There is a very small temple on this mountain. There were only two monks in the temple. He arrived a few days ago and went down the mountain today. He will never climb this mountain and will never climb this temple again, because there are no one in the temple now.

Two figures emerged from the foot of the mountain. The people at the foot of the mountain could not see him, but he could see the pedestrians at the foot of the mountain. He couldn't help but smile and sat on the top of the mountain, waiting for the people at the foot of the mountain to come up the mountain.
Chapter completed!