[Sword Three] [Hua Yang] Qian Jixue

When Han Qingyun meets Mo Zhiqi again, the midsummer has passed for a long time.

Huashan entered winter early, and then the snow fell overwhelmingly.Only another part of the Qinling Mountains saw red flowers and green grass. As soon as I entered the Qingyan, the warm and humid wind hit my face, and the half-frozen person shivered several times from the inside out.

At that time, Mo Zhiqi was discussing moves with his fellow apprentices, he grabbed a dark black ink pen and pointed at the stake in a serious manner, completely different from the playful smiling face last time.

Han Qingyun hurriedly found him, took out a cloth ball from his sleeve, and put it in his subconsciously opened hand without saying a word.

Holding the cloth ball in his hand was very cold, Mo Zhiqi hurriedly put away the pen, opened it with anticipation in his eyes, and only got a hand of cold water, he couldn't help but wonder: "What is this?"

Han Qingyun was stunned, stared at Wang Bingshui and gasped for a long time, then let out a long sigh: "... Snowball."

"What?" Before Mo Zhiqi heard it clearly, the corners of his eyes and lips were already curled up in laughter.

"Snowball..." Han Qingyun was a little frustrated, and muttered in a low voice, "Master really hit the mark, only Hongchen's unique skill of condensing snow can bring Xue here."

"Xue, Tuan?" Mo Zhiqi repeated every single word, smiling even more, "Bring it to me?"

Han Qingyun nodded and shook his head dejectedly in the smell of medicine all over his body: "Well, thank you for the rabbit last time, it's a pity..."

"It's a pity, I'd rather see snow balls as big as yours." Mo Zhiqi said as he folded the wet and cold cloth balls squarely and put them into his arms.

Han Qingyun told him that he couldn't laugh or cry: "Are you kidding me again?"

"No." Mo Zhiqi blinked his innocent eyes, and stared at him with a smile, "I really haven't seen it before."

Han Qingyun couldn't tell the truth from what he said, so after thinking about it, he suggested: "You want to see him so much, why don't you go to Mount Hua to see it yourself?"

"I'm afraid of the cold, so I don't want to go." Mo Zhiqi smiled brightly, and looked up and down his white Taoist robe, "Anyway, you look similar to it."

"You..." Han Qingyun was tongue-tied, and when he realized it, Wan Hua had jumped a few steps away.

"Now that I have practiced the fifth level of Baihuafu acupuncture point, I am not afraid of you anymore." Mo Zhiqi took out the pen pinned to his waist, and greeted him provocatively.

"Why are you like this!" Han Qingyun grasped the hilt of the sword naturally, and slapped him with sword energy in the face after speaking.

The Wanhua who got together spontaneously dispersed, watching with relish watching fellow disciples and a small Taoist leader dismantle moves in the martial arts arena.

Half a year later, Han Qingyun was actually a lot more stable, whether he was a person or a sword, he was relaxed, but when he met Mo Zhiqi, he still had a disagreement and started a fight.

Naturally, Mo Zhiqi's cuddling martial arts couldn't compare to his years of honed sword skills, and after a while he began to run away.The onlookers watched and yawned, and they dispersed after a while.

Han Qingyun didn't push people too much, he put away his sword when the fight was almost over, and sat on the short wooden post to watch Wanhua come over with a hippie smile, saying thank you for his gift.

It's not really a gift, Mo Zhiqi looks like he really wants to see it, it's hard for him not to take it seriously.Afterwards, he took him to Qingyan three or four times, all of which ended in failure. After that, Mo Zhiqi didn't mention it, so he let it go.

Han Qingyun was diligent in going down the mountain, proficient in sword skills, outstanding, and he solved the world's worries with his teacher. He has walked in Chang'an for countless times, and after a few years, he has become a suave white-clothed Taoist priest.He is steady and stable, and his expression is much lighter than when he was a teenager. Mo Zhiqi saw him, and if he continued, he would become a stubborn old man with a white beard.

Mo Zhiqi never went out of the valley, practiced martial arts half-heartedly, played around as he wanted, his skills improved slowly, and he became more and more lazy.Han Qingyun persuaded him to see the sun more often, Wan Hua always smiled and said that the sun was too hot, then he thought about what to change Nuomi Bunny's eyes, and dragged him to the backyard to look at the newly planted flowers, easily fooling him.

Mo Zhiqi is the most rascal in Wanhua Valley, Han Qingyun knows it well, but he just doesn't understand how he can unknowingly follow his way, obviously he can only make rabbits or mushrooms when making glutinous rice balls.

The two got together, and from the initial fights, they gradually became serious.The leaves fall and the flowers bloom, and after changing the robes on each other a few times, one with long hair below the waist, and the other with a high crown, both of them are tall and tall, and they still don't forget to light their weapons when they meet.

The new little disciple Wanhua didn't know why, and every time he saw them, he hurriedly ran away.

Fighting back and forth, they were at war with swords and swords and never had any grudges. They gestured back and forth to wash away their tiredness. After the sparring, a pot of tea was served, and two or three topics were used to kill the remaining half day. No one regarded martial arts mastery as the goal.

The rivers and lakes are sinister, and the amount of silver written on the bulletin board arouses the flock of knights, and there is a smell of blood.Han Qingyun stood at the top of the wind, avoiding the smell of flowers, and bluntly said that one day he would be able to cultivate immortality when he retired from the turmoil of the world.

Mo Zhiqi stood beside him, brushed away the crown belt that disturbed his sight, and asked, why do you want to cultivate immortality, isn't it good to live for a hundred years?

Han Qingyun shook his head, saying that penetrating the mortal world and sheathing the sword should be the best destination for a cultivator.It's just that I don't know how many years it will take, now he has not even figured out the world, and he only got involved in a hundred years of life, so he can't say whether it is good or not.

Mo Zhiqi was bored for a long time, looking at his jade-white side face, he suddenly laughed.

Don't be busy cultivating immortals yet, he said,

Before that, wait until I hit you first.

Looking back, Han Qingyun inexplicably felt that the smile on Wan Hua's face was a bit lonely.

In the autumn of that year, Mo Zhiqi finally became proficient at sprinkling green lotus, no longer needing to run away and be foolish, and Han Qingyun had to be serious to deal with it. When he drew his sword, he thought about it and said that Zhen Shanhe would be forced out next time. .

Only then did Wan Hua suddenly realize that he was practicing Zixia Kungfu, and only Zixia Kungfu has the power to conquer mountains and rivers.

Han Qingyun was stunned for a while, looking at the red moles at the end of his eyes that stretched out, and gritted his teeth:

"Just bluff me!"

"Really." Mo Zhiqi spread his hands under his speechless gaze, and said solemnly, "I have never fought with other Zixia skills, nor did I have Taixu Sword Intent."

Han Qingyun was speechless, and walked away without looking back after pestering for a while.

Mo Zhiqi twirled the three-finger-thick ink pen in his hand, and shouted behind his back: "Then next time, I'll find another Zixia Gong to beat it?"

Han Qingyun paused, raised his moiré sleeves, and gave him a gossip backhand.

When Mo Zhiqi was able to speak, Han Qingyun had already gone far away, and the Taoist robe was half hidden in the rising fog in the forest, looking blurred like an exile.

"I heard that Li Jing is not afraid of Zixia Gong." Wan Hua waved at his back, regardless of whether he could hear it, "Is it too late for me to turn Li Jing?"

Han Qingyun stopped in the mist, and couldn't help pursing his lips and smiling when he turned around: "...it's too late."

Mo Zhiqi stood with his hands behind his back, looking a bit unconvinced, his long hair was scattered in the mist, and he could still smell the familiar medicinal fragrance even after a long distance.

Although he doesn't practice the Li Sutra, he hangs out with the Li Sutra all day long, and the smell of medicine is always with him.Han Qingyun didn't quite get used to it earlier, but later he realized that this smell is unique, different from the strong and mixed smell of Yaolu, Mo Zhiqi's body is simple, clean and refreshing, and he will never admit his mistake.

He began to suspect that this was also a trick to him, otherwise, how could he feel that the old man had arrived when he smelled it.

Mo Zhiqi didn't switch to Lijing, and in winter, the unexpected fires of war raged all over Xijing, and the next time that was agreed was nowhere in sight.