Chapter 32: Kill the monk

There should be some other emotions before killing someone, maybe it's excitement, happiness, or anticipation, but it's all based on the unclear relationship between the person you want to kill and you, but now Li Fuyao wants The person who went to kill, he didn’t even know the name of the other person, or even if it was a male or female. The only thing he knew was that the monk in the big tent was a Confucian monk who had not crossed the first three realms. Knowing that this one might come from Yanling Academy, the others don't know.
Therefore, now Li Fuyao's heart is very calm, without excitement, the only thing he is thinking about is how to chop off the monk's head in a while, and the cost he suffers the least.
In the big tent, there is a scholar who is studying at the desk at the moment, leaning against the dim oil lamp. This extremely thin looking scholar is holding a collection of sages, thoughtfully.
After flipping two pages, the scholar in a snow-white shirt shook his head with a sigh, then some helplessly muttering something, but the voice was too small for no one to hear clearly.
After a while, the lights flickered, and the reader raised his head, looked away from the book, and looked at the dark shadow illuminated by the oil lamp.
After turning his head, the scholar wearing a snow-white shirt saw the young man standing not far from the entrance of the big account.
The young man carried the hatchet and said nothing.
The scholar looked at the young man, and soon saw the courtesy said: "Zuo Sifan, I don't know why fellow Daoists are here?"
Li Fuyao, who carried a hatchet on his back, calmly said, "I am from Zhou."
The meaning is simple and terrifying.
Zuo Sifan nodded quickly and clearly, and then he quickly praised from the bottom of his heart: "Unexpectedly that Zhou is so remote, there is such a young genius who has not yet reached the championship, right? There is Qingsi Realm now. Up?"
Li Fuyao was startled slightly, but soon he realized that it was this seemingly peaceful scholar who had regarded him as a cultivator in the Blue Silk Realm because he did not perceive his arrival.
Li Fuyao did not speak, but shook his head.
Zuo Sifan sighed and sighed: "Even if you haven't crossed that threshold, you won't be far behind. The young world is emerging in this mountain and river, and the Taoist species from Liangxi is even more unique. The trend, our Yanling is worse."
He looked at Li Fuyao, and slightly apologized: "This is not the intention of coming to Dazhou due to the Yanling trend. It's just that after embarking on the road of cultivation, you can't go far and suffer a lot of constraints, but you won't come. No, it is said that after embarking on this path, the world can no longer check and balance itself, but in fact, only those seniors who have really gone further can truly have a great detachment. We, but only the larger ants. "
Li Fuyao replied calmly: "The big bully the small, the strong bully the weak, it seems there is nothing wrong, it just depends on whose fist is bigger."
Zuo Sifan smiled, and persuades him with good words: "The truth is not said so, but now it can only be done, but since the Daoist has not set foot in the Qingsi Realm, how can he deal with the dozens of Daoists? ."
Li Fuyao thought for a while, and laughed, "Although I haven't set foot on Qingsi, there is really a female devil with whom I have set foot on Qingsi."
Zuo Sifan was taken aback, "There are two monks in the State of Zhou?!"
Li Fuyao did not explain this time, just untied the hatchet from behind.
Zuo Sifan, dressed in a snow-white shirt, smiled calmly: "Zuo Mou didn't want to sit still, so he was offended."
...
...
Qinghuai, who walked out of the last big tent, looked expressionlessly at the countless soldiers of Chen Guo who were off the account. He did not stay for a moment. He just leaped and sat down on a high platform, looking at the black soldiers underneath. Looking at the big tent on the far east, he whispered softly: "Don't go in that big tent, or you will all die.
Now that he knew that his coach and some of his fellow immortal masters had died violently, Chen Guo Shizu looked at each other for a while, and saw fear in Paoze's eyes.
In Beiyan County that day, most of them watched the immortal masters walking through the Great Zhou army like this with their own eyes, breaking the necks of the generals one by one. But nowadays, this extremely beautiful girl in a blue shirt looks even more frightening. She killed the dozen or so monks and an army commander silently. Now this girl Never leave, who dare to act rashly?
Therefore, under the order of the deputy commander of the army, so many soldiers, as many as tens of thousands, just watched the girl sitting on the high platform so quietly.
If this falls into the eyes of the painter, it must be another extremely beautiful painting.
...
...
In the big tent, in the faint light, the young man carrying the hatchet had already made many swords. Although most of them had been lost, occasionally a few swords fell on the scholar.
A sword on the waist, a sword on the shoulder, even a sword on the leg.
Obviously the young man was carrying a knife, but Zuo Sifan felt that all his injuries were sword injuries.
Looking up at the pale youth, Zuo Sifan suddenly realized: "Originally I thought that even if you missed the blue silk realm, I would have a chance to get out of this big tent. But who can think clearly, you are actually a Swordsman!"
"A swordsman appeared in such a remote place as Zhou State!"
Zuo Sifan was a little unbelievable.
Li Fuyao didn't give him much time to think. He took the knife and stepped forward, and then struck it again.
This time, it was not a repeat of the previous scene. Zuo Sifan did not step back, and Li Fuyao's hatchet did not advance one more point, instead, there was a clear sound.
Then the blade of the hatchet was snapped open.
Li Fuyao retracted the knife and backed away, looking at the things in Zuo Sifan's hand.
That is a brush with blue light.
Looking at Li Fuyao, Zuo Sifan sighed and said, "It is said that you group of swordsmen have no long bodies and nothing but a sword. I thought it might be a rumor before, but now it seems to be true. No wonder you are almost gone after six thousand years."
Li Fuyao lowered his head slightly, he didn't even look at the cyan brush, but he swiped it suddenly.
A gust of wind emerged from the big tent.
I was shocked by the flickering of the oil lamp, but the cyan brush was not damaged at all.
Zuo Sifan mourned and said: "The time when he was still studying in the academy was really the most carefree time for Zuo in these years, but it has become a cloud of the past, and there is only such a pen left. "
Li Fuyao suddenly fell backwards. At the same time, the cyan brush shot towards Li Fuyao like a blue light. Li Fuyao felt the chill of the cyan brush passing by his bun, and his shoulders sank slightly. Having just escaped the last blow of that brush, Li Fu shook his hatchet to the ground, stood up straight, looking at the cyan brush that returned to Zuo Sifan's hand.
The swordsmen in the mountains and rivers always didn't care much about the rank of the magic weapon. They only needed to have a connection with the sword in their hands, and they had never asked for the rest. The monks of the Three Sects, except for the swordsman line, have a lot of research on magical tools, and the effects of each magical tool are not the same.
Zuo Sifan took the cyan brush and said calmly: "Your sword fairy can probably break through all kinds of magical weapons with a single sword, but you are a swordsman who doesn't even have a sword, I'm afraid you don't have this ability."
Li Fuyao wanted to tell him that the sword immortal would never put him in his eyes from the beginning to the end, but when he was still living at his throat, the cyan brush was so bright that he swept straight towards Li Fuyao.
Zuo Sifan said with emotion: "Zuo hasn't killed anyone for several years."