The villain's guide to throwing blame

The mountain fires all over the mountains and fields were reflected in Feng Ling's eyes, but his mentality at this moment was not as good as it was at the beginning, and he didn't care about it.

Because with the passage of time in this illusion, he found that Ling Mozheng's memories and emotions were silently integrated into his sea of ​​consciousness like ink drops in water.

At this time, Ling Mozheng was lying on the tree fifty feet away from the Lingxuege formation, staring at the clansmen who were screaming and being slaughtered in front of him. He watched his Yingwei's father covered in blood and was besieged by several people. Pushed to the brink.

"Hahaha, I am possessed by demons, I, Ling Shiyuan, cultivate demons, and I, Lingxuege, belong to the demon sect, so you can say such ridiculous words! If you take a picture in front of the bright heart mirror in front of my mountain gate, you don't know Who looks more like a demon cultivator!"

Ling Shiyuan laughed angrily, and pointed his long sword straight at the hearts of those sinister and ferocious people.

"I know what you want, and tell you, it's all wishful thinking. Even if my Ling family dies today, it's absolutely impossible for you to get what you want, Mo Cheng! Let's go!"

The eldest brother of the Ling family, who had already lost his arm, coughed twice with blood on his lips, smiled and glanced into the distance, and ruthlessly stepped on the formation stone under his feet.

Looking at this scene, Ling Mozheng bit his forearm fiercely, his black and white eyes were almost blood red.

His elder brother just now understood that what he was looking at was the direction he came from, it was his relatives saying goodbye to him silently and far away.

Feng Ling was immersed in his consciousness, and gradually found that he couldn't control his surging emotions. Ling Mozheng's unwillingness was his unwillingness, Ling Mozheng's pain was his pain, and Ling Mozheng's hatred was also his hatred.

He wished he could tear up these monsters in human skin. Feng Ling's originally restricted and thorough sword intent leaked out along with his emotions, and the aura was exactly the same as that of the Ling family he had seen.

He watched Ling Mozheng's body for so long, and his mood gradually began to fluctuate with what Ling Mozheng saw, as if his soul had merged into another part, and finally made up for the incomplete part of himself.

He is Ling Mozheng, and Ling Mozheng is Feng Ling.

There were reasons for those endless nightmares that haunted him, the overwhelming screams and sorrow, the blood and gunpowder, and the endless hatred.

After so many years of dust-covered memories before he was six years old, fate still gently blows away the dust on it, cutting off the bloodiest time in his life.

He is the second young master of the Ling family's direct line in Lingxuege, the natural sword bone that the Ling family is most proud of, and he inherited Ling Jinglan's swordsmanship.

But it was also this thing that brought the entire Ling family to its end.

In the end, he was the only one who was sent out of the Ling family land under the protection of his clansmen, and he almost lost his chance to immortality after breaking his tendons.

But the way of heaven is ruthless but also merciful, and in the end it left the Ling family with the last ray of hope.

After wandering in the world for more than half a year, he met the second elder who traveled down the mountain in Shaolin, the Master Huizhen who had a relationship with him in Lingxue Pavilion.

When Huizhen saw him, she was obviously very surprised, but she seemed relieved, and said something completely different from Feng Ling's memory, which was both true and false.

"Since we meet again here, it means that it is fate, is Young Master Ling willing to travel with the poor monk from now on, and become a lay disciple under my sect?"

Ling Mozheng was silent for a while, and bowed to Huizhen silently, "The Ling family has long since been destroyed, and everyone in the Ling family has been beaten into demons and evil ways. I am no longer the second young master of the Ling family. If the mage doesn't mind I am naturally willing to deal with the troubles of my life experience.”

Huizhen sighed, stretched out her hand to pat his head compassionately, and changed his name at Ling Mozheng's request.

Master Sui Huizhen's lay surname is Su Ling.

The following memory is no different from Feng Ling's own impression, except that there are more parts of him healing and practicing martial arts, and even Huizhen, a master of Shaolin, showed it to him indifferently.

This is also Ling Mozheng's rare peaceful and comfortable life after experiencing such a tragic night.

But maybe it's the fate of the Ling family, or maybe it's Ling Mozheng's fate that prevents him from living a peaceful and peaceful life.

The various factions secretly cast their nets to prevent the Ling family from slipping through the net, and the organizations still set their eyes on them.

On a stormy night, Ling Mozheng, or rather Su Ling, lost his dearest relative once again.

Master Huizhen fought against the three masters by himself, but in the end he was defeated because of his previous injuries, but he forcibly communicated with Shaolin Temple and reported the matter to his elder brother.

Shaolin was furious.

The thirteen sects of the five sects acted so recklessly in private, rashly attacking the elders of Shaolin for the missing treasure, Huizhen used his last bit of skill, and beat all three of them to the point of losing both, covering up the traces of the Ling family's heirs found things.

And Ling Mozheng, who knew nothing about it, was also in that ruined temple, waiting for the last retreat of the Ling family.

The Patriarch of the Feng family secretly brought the elite of the dark pavilion to appear in front of the ruined temple, and found Ling Mozheng who should have appeared in the teleportation formation of the Lingfeng family two years ago.

"Mo Zheng," Feng Changming held the hand of the young man who was in extremely poor physical condition but stubborn and helpless, feeling a little helpless and helpless, "Let's go."

"Where's my master? Where's Master Huizhen?" Ling Mozheng stared at him with a pair of dark eyes.

Feng Changming let out a long sigh, and in the disapproving eyes of his subordinates, he still chose to tell him everything, "Master Huizhen has passed away."

Contrary to everyone's expectations, Ling Mozheng didn't make a fuss, didn't even fall into a breakdown, just stood there quietly for a moment, and then said in a low voice, "I see."

He already knew it when he waited in the temple for seven days without seeing Huiren's shadow. He just wanted an answer.

"Come with me," Feng Changming held his hand, "From now on, you will be my Feng Changming's son and the only young master of the Feng family. This is me, and the Feng family owes the Ling family."

Ling Mozheng looked at him indifferently, and suddenly said, "I'm such a lonely star, it's easy to hurt my relatives, you should think about it again."

"Fart," Feng Changming burst into anger, "Who dares to say that you are the only star of the gods, those wolf-hearted things are all fart, don't you know that people who enter the Tao have no fate?"

Ling Mozheng was a little surprised.

Seeing him like this, Feng Changming's heart softened again, "Ling'er, remember, people who enter the Tao abandon their mortal bodies, and they don't accept their fate and go against the sky, so even cultivators don't have the so-called theory of fate." , Everything a cultivator has is earned by himself."

He listened in a daze, tears rolled down suddenly, Feng Ling silently wiped his face, took Feng Changming's hand, and never let go, there is no Ling Mozheng in the world, only lost for several years and finally found Fengling, the only son of the head of the Feng clan, came here.

But the memory is not over yet. He has experienced too many ups and downs in his short ten years of life, which really affected his state of mind. After careful consideration, Feng Changming sealed off most of his past memories and achieved the one he was familiar with. Wind Ling.

So from the very beginning, there was no remnant of the Ling family, and he himself was the remaining remnant of the Ling family. He had a vague intuition for a long time, but when he made the layout, he only thought that his methods were ruthless but his own heart was ruthless.

I don't want to have such a past, but the elders of the Feng family obviously know it well.

Feng Changming knew the most painful and hated place in his heart, and he indulged Fengling to use all the resources of the Feng family at will, and he didn't mind that the Feng family was also stirred into this muddy water.

Because Ling Mozheng's mother was born in the direct line of the Feng family, and later worshiped in Miaoyinfang, and finally became a Taoist couple with Ling Shiyuan, and Feng Changming's Taoist couple, and Feng Ling's mother was her senior sister.

When the Ling family incident happened, all the elders of the Feng clan knelt in front of the door to stop Feng Changming and his wife, begging them to consider for the Feng family, and the Feng family, who was already on the edge of the wind, tied themselves to the Ling family. The mast of the house can only sink together.

Feng Changming silently locked himself in the ancestral hall overnight, but Mrs. Feng waited for three days before the battle, but no one came.

They had already given up hope, but two years later they suddenly received a text message from Master Huizhen of Shaolin, asking him to go to a place in the mortal world to pick up Ling Mozheng.

It was a miracle.

Madam Feng burst into tears immediately.

No one thought that they could wait until such a day. The youngest son of the Ling family was saved in the end. He suffered so much in the mortal world, and after going around, he met Master Huizhen and was taken to them again. around.

Feng Ling grew up quietly in Feng's family like this, and he didn't appear in front of outsiders for the first time until he was 15 years old. At this time, everything that happened in Ling's family has long been wiped clean, and he has nothing to say. Can not remember.

Unused scenes quickly passed before Feng Ling's eyes. It took only a few moments for him to go from stunned to indifferent, and his bumpy and short first half of his life had already passed through like flowing water.

But the picture did not stop, but took him into another familiar place.

A vast and undulating mountain range, the sky and the earth seem to be infected by the blood-red afterglow, and wherever he can see, there is only blood in the sky.Shouts and tsunami-like screams and pleadings sounded one after another, pouring into his ears as if from this land.

Again, again, he heard those screams.

But he is no longer a character standing on the cliff watching, he is in the body of the person he once saw flying past, frantically heading towards the destination.

But he already knew what he was going to see.

After hearing his commotion, the blood-stained formation and the half-kneeling monk in the middle struggled to support his magic weapon and raised his eyes with difficulty to look at him. Eyes, said the Buddha's name in a low voice.

"Sanskrit! Sanskrit." He stumbled and ran over, dropped the sword in his hand, trembling, not knowing where to help the monk, he looked too miserable, and his whole body was lying limply on his hand on the staff.

His eyes were red and he saw the bloody wound on the monk's neck. He could tell at a glance that the monk had pulled out all the Buddha bones on his body, and drained all of his cultivation and the blood of the great kindness and power in his heart to make up for it. Completed the map of mountains and rivers that was missing a few pieces, and suppressed this crack in the rules of heaven and earth.

Carrying the entire world on his shoulders, but now he has entered the Sanskrit voice of the dying Buddha.

The Sanskrit sound that made him gritted his teeth with hatred.

"You," he blurted out a word before choking, "why do you do this, keep it from me and don't let me participate, are you afraid that I will share your monstrous merits! If you can't get the map of mountains and rivers, won't you grab it? ?!"

"Cough." Sanskrit smiled instead, he moved his hand a little, and stuffed something into his hand, "From now on, you can only put away the things yourself."

He looked down and saw that it was a Qiankun ring, and the seal was still connected with the cave formation of Sanskrit.

"Amitabha." Sanskrit leaned on him and coughed out the last mouthful of blood, and said the Buddha's name again, and there was no more sound.

He endured the tearing pain deep in his soul, placed the monk safely, and slowly stood up with a long sword in his hand.

"Changwu Pavilion, Chang Yunwei." He took a wobbly step.

"Qianlin faction, Duan Lingyu." The long sword in his hand let out a long howl in harmony with his anger.

"Xuantianzong," he raised his head and looked to the north, his eyes were bloodshot, "Xuan Chengzi."

"This enmity, I will never die!"

The sword intent of the Saint Realm raged and erupted, his eyes were about to burst, and his hatred was soaring!

The sky and the earth howled in response to his monstrous hatred, thick clouds gradually shrouded the sky and the earth, and thunderbolts as thick as water snakes flashed and rumbled between the clouds from time to time.

Heaven and earth cry with the sage.

In Mingye Town, in Yuechen Room, Feng Ling's aura suddenly rose with his eyes closed tightly, and sword energy overflowed from his body.

Yue Chen, who was meditating, suddenly opened his eyes when he felt the dangerous breath, and looked at Feng Ling who obviously had an unexpected situation.

The gust of wind suddenly rose from Feng Ling's feet, gaining momentum enough to stir up the situation.

The synthetic Blood Night Styx Jade Roll slipped from his hand, and Young Master Feng also slowly opened his eyes.

His originally clear and distinct black and white eyes suddenly turned blood red, and he looked like he was going to be enchanted, but his expression was very indifferent.

He said to Moondust.

Mage, the deity remembered.

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