You kid! You don't have to be so low-key! !

The light from the bonfire flowed across Changqing's face, giving him a faint blood-red hue.

Amid the hustle and bustle at the moment, the red color seemed so peaceful and gentle, as if it could soothe the waves in his heart and make him somewhat intoxicated by it.

He looked at Yu Qingxi who was sitting in the first seat and listened to her formatted opening remarks. He felt as if he was isolated from this noisy world and everything seemed so far away.

Only the cup of hot wine in his hand could bring him a sense of reality and became his only hope at this moment.

After Yu Qingxi's speech, the banquet officially began.

Warriors came forward one after another, waving their swords to add to the fun, and the wonderful performance drew cheers from the crowd.

Changqing sat quietly, letting the noisy world pass by before his eyes, but his heart was like a windless lake, calm without a ripple.

Soon, Wang Gang stood up, holding the mighty sword, and walked to the center of the venue.

He signaled the drummer with his eyes, and the sound of war drums began.

Wang Gang was full of vigor and he swung his sword, charging forward and slashing backward, as if he had transformed into a general charging into battle, killing the enemy without them even being seen.

He stamped his feet slightly, imitating the state of riding a horse, and his movements were full of strength and rhythm.

As the swords flew, everyone seemed to see a general charging on the front line, with blood rushing in his face.

Wang Gang shouted loudly, and swung his sword suddenly down, then swept it across violently. The enemies seemed to disappear in front of him, trapped in a tight encirclement, but he was so fearless, so brave, and so intimidating to the enemy.

When the performance was over, Wang Gang put away his sword. There was no enemy in front of him, no soldiers behind him, and he was alone in the world. He felt depressed and drank the wine, not knowing why...

The sword dance ended, but everyone was still immersed in a faint sadness.

Changqing smiled slightly and threw a jar of wine to Wang Gang.

The two looked at each other, raised the wine jars and drank from them tacitly.

The cheers from the crowd continued one after another, adding a bit of liveliness to this rare moment of gathering.

Wang Gang put down the wine jar, wiped the wine stains from the corners of his mouth, and said to the crowd, "Are we more curious about what Brother Zhang's sword dance looks like? Do you want Brother Zhang to perform a segment?"

This statement immediately aroused everyone's curiosity. Many people agreed and asked Chang Qing to perform a sword dance.

Finally, the soldiers shouted "Grandmaster Zhang" in unison, making it difficult for Changqing to refuse.

Chang Qing stood up, picked up the wooden sword in his hand, carried the wine jar, and walked to the center of the venue. He took a deep breath and said:

"When will the bright moon appear? I raise my cup to ask the sky. I wonder what year it is in the palace of heaven now?"

He raised the sword in his hand, made a sword flower, took two steps back, turned around and made another sword flower.

He raised his head and looked at the starry sky from the crater, then drank from his head, and raised his feet to waist height. His ink-colored clothes fluttered in the wind, and his sword skills were elegant, adding a touch of lightness to the poetry.

At this moment, Changqing was like a banished immortal, looking at the sky and thinking about the past.

"I want to ride the wind back home, but I am afraid that the jade buildings are too cold up there. Dancing with my shadow doesn't seem like being in the human world."

As the poem was recited, the white clothes illuminated by the firelight seemed even more desolate.

He swept the sword with the cloud, then turned around and stabbed with the sword with his knee raised.

He twisted his body, jumped up, and then swung it upwards lightly. Every movement was smooth and natural, as if it was one with the heaven and earth.

It was as if he was about to ascend to heaven, but he was frozen in place, reluctant to take that step, as if once he took this step, the world would no longer belong to him.

The noisy soldiers also quieted down, feeling the reluctance and sadness in the sword dance and poetry.

"The moon turns from the red pavilion to the beautiful window, shining on the sleepless night. I should not feel any hatred, why does the moon always appear when we are parting?"

Suddenly, the sword's momentum slowed down, as gentle as running water. A breeze blew up from somewhere, gently blowing Chang Qing's white clothes, disturbing his long hair and ink-colored robe. It was like drops of ink splashed on a blood-red background, like a landscape painting stained with blood.

"People have joys and sorrows, separations and reunions, the moon waxes and wanes, it is impossible to have everything in life, I wish you a long life, and we can enjoy the beauty of the moon together even though we are thousands of miles apart."

The soldiers saw that the immortal in the painting was banished to the mortal world, trapped in the mortal world, struggling in the mortal world, struggling to find his own way. As the sword force was reduced, the immortal in the painting smiled, as if he had found his way home and had hope.

The scroll slowly faded away, and everyone's attention was focused on Changqing again.

"Great lyrics, wonderful dance!!" The crowd came to their senses and applauded.

"The poem is good, the dance is good, and the temperament of the swordsman matches this scene best." Yu Qingxi murmured unconsciously.

The atmosphere of the banquet was brought to a climax by Changqing's sword dance.

At this time, Changqing had put away his wooden sword and was staring at the campfire in a trance.

His eyes revealed a complex emotion, as if he was recalling the past.

He didn't wake up from his trance until Wang Gang gently patted his shoulder.

He picked up the jar of wine and took a few gulps, trying to suppress the thoughts in his mind.

The banquet continued, during which a few younger soldiers got drunk and ran up to Changqing, asking to become his disciples.

Chang Qing was amused by them and although he did not agree directly, he still promised to train them.

This made the young soldiers leave satisfied.

As time went by, the generals and soldiers gradually fell drunk around the campfire.

Although Yu Qingxi drank a lot of alcohol, she remained clear-headed.

She directed the soldiers on duty to send the drunk people back to rest and ensure their safety.

When Yu Qingxi saw Chang Qing still sitting by the campfire holding the jar of wine and drinking slowly, an inexplicable emotion surged in her heart.

She walked over and sat next to Changqing, looking at the jumping fire and listening to the crackling sound of the wood.

Chang Qing poured another bowl of wine for Yu Qingxi and said, "Don't worry, we will take care of everything."

Although his words were light, they were full of power, making Yu Qingxi feel inexplicably at ease.

Yu Qingxi's hand holding the bowl trembled slightly. She looked at the wine in the bowl for a long time before saying, "Can I really sit in that seat as a woman?"

There was a hint of uncertainty and confusion in her voice.

Chang Qing smiled slightly and said with a nostalgic look: "I know that many women have amazing literary talent and have reached the pinnacle of martial arts, but because they are women, they have no way to serve their country. But this is just a microcosm of this era."

"If you can't even break the barriers in your own heart, how can you break the barriers in the hearts of others? So you must have confidence and don't leave any regrets."

Although his words were light, they flowed into Yu Qingxi's heart like a stream of clear spring, making her feel an unprecedented power.

Yu Qingxi drank the wine in the bowl in one gulp.

She looked at Chang Qing's deep gaze and asked, "What worries or regrets does Mr. Zhang have in his heart?"

There was a hint of curiosity and inquiry in her voice.

Changqing's gaze became profound as he looked at the fire, and he shook his head and said: "My regrets are too long and too far away, and may never be realized in this lifetime. But precisely because the road is still long, there is still hope."

-----------------

When Changqing woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. The sunlight shone through the cracks in the stone house, shining warmly on his body.

The drunkenness from last night had not yet completely dissipated, so he was not in a hurry to practice. Instead, he quietly enjoyed this rare tranquility.

He rubbed his head gently, then picked up the wooden sword and began his daily practice. The soldiers not far away gathered around curiously, watching Chang Qing practice the basic sword moves one by one, their hearts full of doubts.

Someone couldn't help but ask: "Master Zhang, is it really useful to practice like this?" This question seemed to be a common question in the minds of all the soldiers.

Chang Qing did not stop his actions, and said as he practiced: "Simplify the complex. Practice ordinary sword moves tens of thousands of times, and you can also become a god." His voice was calm and firm, as if he was telling an unchanging truth.

Two hours later, Chang Qing finished practicing a thousand sword moves, put the wooden sword gently aside, and turned back to the stone house to wash up.

The soldiers watching could no longer suppress their curiosity and stepped forward to carefully examine the seemingly ordinary wooden sword.

"Is it really useful? And it's just an ordinary wooden sword!" Some people still had doubts.

"Don't forget, it was this wooden sword that defeated General Wang yesterday!"

"Why are you talking so much? I'll know if I try it!" A sturdy young man stepped forward first, grasping the hilt with one hand and trying to lift the wooden sword.

However, to his surprise, the wooden sword did not move at all.

Unconvinced, he increased his strength, even using both hands, until he had used all his strength, his face flushed, and he was able to move the wooden sword a little bit.

As a result, he stumbled and fell to the ground, causing the soldiers to burst into laughter.

Afterwards, many more people came forward to try, but they all had to use all their strength to barely move the wooden sword a little bit.

This strange phenomenon surprised the soldiers.

Not far away, Wang Gang, who was training new recruits, heard the noise here, frowned and walked over.

He glared at her and shouted, "What's all this noise like?"

The soldiers hurriedly explained: "Master Wang and Master Zhang practiced with wooden swords, which we found very strange and wanted to pick them up to see how they worked. However, among all of us, no one was able to lift them."

Wang Gang became curious upon hearing this and walked forward to take a closer look at the wooden sword.

The wooden sword looks ordinary, with a smooth blade engraved with cloud patterns and a white cloth wrapped around the handle. It is indeed very beautiful.

However, when he stretched out his hand to grasp the hilt of the sword, he felt an astonishing weight coming. He couldn't even lift the sword with one hand, so he had to use both hands to barely lift the sword, but it was also very strenuous.

"This sword probably weighs nearly four hundred pounds!" Wang Gang said in surprise.

He put down the sword, shocked. He had just seen Chang Qing practicing sword skills here for two hours. He couldn't help but admire him. No wonder he had achieved such success at such a young age.

Chang Qing came out of the wash and smiled when he saw this scene. After he entered the Tuojing Realm, Yu Linglong made him a wooden sword with thousand-year-old iron wood, but the weight was 400 kilograms. During that period, Chang Qing was tortured for a long time by the sudden increase in weight...