"It's the same for both of you."

Zhao Yuping smiled and nodded, very satisfied, and walked directly to the high platform without giving him any room to regret.

"Don't touch my chair." Zhao Jiheng slapped Meng Heze's hand that was grabbing the recliner away and finally felt proud for once.

Meng Heze didn't argue with him and just said loudly to everyone:

"If I'm lucky enough to win the first prize, please let Senior Brother Song enter the inner gate!"

"Cough cough cough!" Song Qianji was horrified and coughed repeatedly, and hurriedly waved his hands: "No need!"

Who the hell wants to enter the inner door? Don't mess with me!

"What did you say?!" Zhao Yuping turned around suddenly, his eyes as sharp as a knife, piercing Meng Heze.

The elder of the Discipline Hall on the stage shouted: "Nonsense, the assessment is to select the best disciples to enter the inner sect. There is never any competition for others."

Meng Heze raised his hand to Gaotai: "In terms of cultivation and character, Senior Brother Song is a hundred times better than me. If I can do it, it will be even easier for him. But he is injured and it is not convenient for him to fight with others." The young man.

There is no fear on the face, and every word is loud and clear:

"Disciple is willing to fight with all candidates one by one!"

After Meng Heze finished speaking, the depression in his chest was swept away.

There are so many things a person has to say in his life, truth, lies, lies and drunkenness, but he just feels that no words have ever been spoken more happily than this one.

Ever since he left home and went up the mountain to join the outer sect of the Huawei Sect, he has always been helping others, but others rarely had the chance to help him.

He yearns for the rich and colorful world of immortality and the true sincerity of friendship.

But life is dull and boring, lifeless day after day, with no end in sight.

——Until he crashed into a cliff with Song Qianji.

If I can still endure today's situation and being forced to this point, I will have no shame to use the skills that Senior Brother Song will teach me in the future!

Meng Heze wanted to prove to everyone, and to himself, that Senior Brother Song did not misjudge the wrong person, did not save the wrong person, and did not teach the wrong person.

Zhao Yuping suddenly smiled. It was the first time he smiled so sincerely today:

"Two elders, although there is no precedent for this matter, the selection and assessment rules change every year. It is rare for my outer disciples to have such courage and friendship, so why not give him a chance to try?"

Meng Heze sneered: "Thank you, Deacon Zhao, for making it happen."

Meng Heze is crazy. How can anyone take the initiative to apply for a wheel battle?

Regardless of their stance, everyone on the scene was surprisingly unified in their thoughts at this moment.

Zhao Jiheng shouted for them: "Hey, what are you doing? Did Song Qianji poison you and control you?!"

"Take good care of Senior Brother Song for me."

Meng Heze did not explain any more, but only gave instructions to the outer disciples who followed him, and walked towards the center of the square.

Song Qianji's voice sounded behind him: "Don't do this."

Meng Heze turned around and saw Song Qianji frowning, seemingly troubled.

Song Qianji firmly refused:

"I don't need you to do it for me. This matter is meaningless and unnecessary."

"No, Senior Brother Song. I have to go!"

Song Qianji sighed: "Then you fight slowly. I have already given up, so I will go back first."

He stood up suddenly. Zhao Jiheng was startled, as if he saw a paralyzed patient walking independently:

"You, aren't you injured? Why..."

"I hurt my arms and shoulders."

Zhao Jiheng collapsed: "Is your leg okay?! Then you carried it and lifted it when you came. What did you do?"

Song Qianji left: "...You insisted on carrying it."

Meng Heze did not expect Song Qianji's reaction.

The man was not happy, even angry.

But he felt that he had done nothing wrong, so he called out to Senior Brother Song softly, as if he had something to say.

Song Qianji ignored it and walked through the sea of ​​people towards the bright spring scenery and green mountains outside the square.

As if what Meng Heze wanted to do had nothing to do with him, he actually refused to stop for a moment.

So Meng Heze stopped talking and turned around and ran away from him.

"Please enlighten me!"

The young man's voice was calm and his expression was determined.

At this moment, his back stood tall against the sky, but for some reason, he looked a little lonely.

…

The mountain road twists and turns thousands of times, and the vegetation is deep.

Song Qianji didn't walk very fast, and he took every step seriously.

He was admiring the scenery, looking at the green ancient locust trees beside the road, the white flowing clouds in the sky, the free swallows on the branches, and the peach blossoms that trembled in the wind and were still wet with dew.

The outer disciples have seen it thousands of times and are accustomed to it, turning a blind eye to it.

Song Qianji's eyes were bright, like a child on his first spring outing.

He had already reached the end of the road he needed to travel in his previous life.

Since we have to change our way of living, we must also change our way of walking.

Appreciating the scenery means appreciating the scenery. There is no need to visualize sword moves based on the scenery to cultivate the sword's intention.

The spring birds are chirping, the spring water is gurgling, and the spring scenery is brilliant.

At the end of the mountain road, a group of houses with white walls and gray tiles jumped out and came into view.

From the outside, the dormitories of the outer disciples are generally simple and crude.

Only when you get closer can you realize that everything inside is different.

Song Qianji lived in the most remote location, with the lowest terrain and the worst drainage and lighting.

Whenever it rains on a cloudy day, the water fills the Jinshan Mountain. The water in the small courtyard is like a lake, and the lake is covered with fallen leaves, like a spinning boat.

He never cleans up, let alone cares. He has no leisure time and no leisure time.

He has been using an almost masochistic lifestyle to force himself to focus on cultivation and leave here as soon as possible.

This was his fifteenth year.

Humble, boring, monotonous, lonely. Sinking into the mud.

Sitting in the well and looking at the sky, the blue sky is so high and far away. Even if I stretch my neck and stand on tiptoes, I can't see the palace on the top of the mountain.

The old wooden door made a heartbreaking creaking sound. Song Qianji stepped into the puddle and shook his head with a smile.

He rolled up his sleeves, tucked the hem of his robe into his belt, picked up a bald broom from the corner, and made two gestures like a sword:

"Work!"

There are dashing swordsmen in the world, but there are no dashing handymen.

Cleaning up fallen leaves, sweeping away stagnant water, repairing tiles on the house... Song Qian's movements were unfamiliar, but he was patient and meticulous, as if he was doing the most important thing in his life.

Time passed quietly between the cracks in the rubble, from the time when the sun was three o'clock in the sky to when the sun's shadow was dipping to the west.

The sky is getting dark, and the tired crows are returning to their nests.

The undulating distant mountains are shrouded in the orange twilight, seeming to melt into continuous spring water.

Song Qianji's right arm was injured and only his left hand was flexible. Although he was in a miserable state, he felt peaceful and at ease.

How comfortable he is, how angry people get when they see him.

When the six disciples walked into his small courtyard, Song Qianji was digging the soil with a shovel.

The small courtyard was cramped and was packed to the brim in an instant. The last person could only huddle on the threshold, still staring at him.

They are like a nest of aggressive fighting cocks with their feathers standing upright.

"Senior Brother Meng won the battle!" The leading female disciple said with a cold tone, "He fought three hundred battles by himself."

Later, it wasn't that the candidates couldn't beat him. Instead, they were admired and feared from the bottom of their hearts. They were frightened by his desperate fighting style and did not dare to play.

"Oh." Song Qianji didn't look back, nor did he stop holding the shovel.

A few curse words were heard behind him, and it was obvious that the gamecocks were angered by his attitude.

"He was seriously injured and is currently being treated at a foreign medical center. Before he fell into coma, he was still thinking about you and said he would give you this bottle of elixir."

The female disciple took out the elixir that Zhao Yuping had used earlier.

Song Qianji: "No need."
To be continued...