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Martial Arts Conference.

Generally speaking, the martial arts conference is a grand event.

There will be many famous families and sects coming to participate, and even casual wanderers will come to see the style of the martial arts conference.

Even ordinary people who don’t know martial arts will mingle in to watch the excitement, or sell snacks outside to earn some extra money.

But this time is different.

There are many people who come to Shaolin to participate in the martial arts conference, but there is no noise at all. They either ride horses or take carriages to the gate of West Shaolin Temple, then get off the car, silently greet the monk in charge of reception, and then walk in. There is no extra greeting or small talk.

Solemn, solemn, silent.

The huge martial arts field of West Shaolin Temple is full of people, men and women, old and young. They come from different places, different sects, different gangs, and different families.

Their identities are also different, children, partners, parents.

However, their dress is surprisingly consistent.

Everyone had a white cloth tied on their head and black gauze wrapped around their sleeves. Everyone was like this. No matter if they were old men over fifty or children learning to speak. Their eyes were red and they stood silently in the martial arts arena. It looked as if they were not attending a martial arts conference, but a funeral.

Li Xunhuan stood in the crowd, looking depressed.

He was released from the prison five days ago. He was locked up after he sent Long Xiaoyun's body back to the Long family.

Until five days ago, Long Xiaoyun released him and asked him only one thing.

Revenge for his dead son.

Li Xunhuan didn't know whether he should do this, but he knew he had no choice, especially when he saw Lin Shiyin not far away.

At this moment, the woman who had once haunted Li Xunhuan had become extremely haggard, but she was extremely strong. She stood there silently, with a long sword hanging around her waist and a white cloth tied on her forehead. She didn't cry, because her tears had already dried up. No mother would not cry when seeing her son in such a miserable state. She couldn't even cry anymore.

Perhaps if she continued to cry, she would shed blood instead of tears.

Li Xunhuan couldn't bear to see her like this. He knew he had no choice.

But... he wasn't sure if he had the ability.

Indeed, Xiao Li's flying knife never missed.

But what if the opponent was a piece of stone?

Li Xunhuan looked at the flying knife in his hand. This flying knife was not the kind he used every day, which could be seen everywhere. It was given to him by Long Xiaoyun. He said it was made by the number one swordsmith in the West Wulin. It was made of meteorite iron from outer space. It could cut hair and cut iron like mud. However, this piece of meteorite iron was only as big as a finger. Originally, the opponent planned to melt the meteorite iron and mix it with other materials to make a sword, but now, he made it into a flying knife.

Li Xunhuan had tested it and it could indeed cut iron like mud. No matter how thick the iron plate was, it was as fragile as tofu in front of it.

But can this deal with that man?

In Li Xunhuan's mind, the huge figure appeared again, he looked at himself, said that sentence, and had that mocking look.

More and more people.

Those who were brought in by the monk would consciously stand in the team, lower their heads, not speak, and remain silent. Li Xunhuan didn't like this environment. He felt that it was like a cemetery. Everyone standing here was mourning. It was full of sadness and death, but there was nothing he liked.

He wanted to drink, but Shaolin Temple naturally didn't have wine. There were only those visitors full of sadness, and the monks standing on both sides of the martial arts field with their hands folded. They closed their eyes and recited scriptures silently.

Is it to save the dead souls? Or to cheer yourself up?

Li Xunhuan suddenly wanted to laugh, regardless of everything, and laughed out loud. But he couldn't do it, because Lin Shiyin was by his side. Although she was holding another man's hand, he couldn't do it either. He didn't want to make Lin Shiyin sad again. Maybe... maybe this is indeed what he can do.

"Amitabha........."

The bell rang, and everyone looked up and watched Shaolin Xinhu Master slowly walk forward. Beside him was a man.

A man in a yellow shirt.

The leader of the Money Gang--Shangguan Jinhong.

He also had a white cloth tied on his head--his son died, and he wanted to prove that he could rob and kill that terrible man, and then only a headless corpse was left.

No different from other people.

Even the son of Shangguan Jinhong, the leader of the Money Gang, the world's number one gang in the Western Wulin, was just a corpse after death.

Even the Money Gang...

Li Xunhuan looked at them silently, watching them talk, they were sad, angry, and sad, just like everyone else present. They hated that demon because he took away their loved ones. So they wanted to kill him, and they would not stop until they died.

They would not stop until they died!

When Shangguan Jinhong roared this sentence, everyone present roared. This should not be said in Buddhism, but even the Shaolin monks were silent. Li Xunhuan looked at Master Xinhu, who put his hands together, bowed his head and said nothing. He thought it was all ridiculous. Those people died because they wanted to kill him. But now, they acted as if they were the ones who were wronged and unfair.

Why?

Because they failed to kill him, but were killed by him instead.

Then, shouldn't they blame themselves?

If they weren't so stupid, they wouldn't have been killed.

Li Xunhuan looked at all this, as if he was just a spectator, indifferent, alienated, as if it had nothing to do with him.

He just wanted to drink now.

Unfortunately, there was no wine here.

"No need to bother, I'm here."

Before Shangguan Jinhong finished speaking, suddenly, a low voice sounded, and when he heard this world, the originally noisy martial arts field instantly became more dead silent than a cemetery. Li Xunhuan's heart jumped, he opened his eyes, turned his head away - everyone turned their heads and looked behind them.

At this moment, it was dusk.

The setting sun was like blood.

A tall figure slowly walked up the steps, his back to the blood-red sunset, the sun shone on him, and he was shrouded in a dark shadow. As he moved forward, the elongated black shadow began to sway, as if a demon with life, watching everything in front of him with a snicker.

He was still wearing the same weird clothes, strange coat, and strange outfit. To be honest, Li Xunhuan suddenly realized that he seemed to have completely overlooked this when he first met him. At that time, he only remembered that terrifying face in his head, a face with the word "ferocious" engraved on it. He just stared at you and made you feel like you were going to die.

Or indeed you would die.

Duanmu Huai raised his head. He was standing at the entrance of the martial arts field, alone, but it felt like thousands of troops blocked the entire entrance.

"What's wrong?"

Looking at the silent crowd in front of him, Duanmu Huai sneered.

"I'm here, come and see how many of you still want to kill me?"

"Everyone here wants to kill you!"

A sharp voice came from the crowd, but Duanmu Huai didn't care.

"Then come on, it doesn't matter if we go together."

He spread his hands and stared at the people in front of him.

"Hurry up, what are you waiting for? Didn't you shout very loudly just now? Why are you scared now?"

"Amitabha........."

Master Xinhu chanted the Buddha's name and looked at Duanmu Huai.

"Don't commit murder again, put down the butcher knife, and become a Buddha right here."

Duanmu Huai shrugged his shoulders.

"They wanted to kill me, so I killed them. I don't think it's murder. I don't think there is any fool in the world who would stand there and let others chop him."

"........."

Master Xinhu was silent for a moment and spoke again.

"If the donor is willing to stop here, worship Buddha in this temple, and chant sutras for the dead, then I can guarantee that the donor will have no worries for the rest of his life."

"I didn't come here to listen to nonsense."

However, Duanmu Huai was obviously not interested in this, and he interrupted Master Xinhu's speech coldly.

"You want to kill me, so I came."

"Then why did the donor come here?"

"Well........."

Duanmu Huai thought for a while.

"Actually, I'm just looking for an answer."

"Answer?"

"Yes, they say that revenge will never end. I'm curious about how long that time will be."

At this point, Duanmu Huai opened his mouth and showed a hideous smile.

"So I came."

As he spoke, Duanmu Huai looked at the crowd and spread his hands.

"So, are you going to fight or not?"

"…………………………"

No one spoke.

Everyone looked at him without saying a word. Just now, they were holding a swearing-in ceremony with great momentum. But when he really appeared in front of them, they seemed to realize why everyone who faced this man died. Because he didn't look like a human being at all, but more like a bloodthirsty devil, a terrifying monster. The murderous intent exuded by his eyes was enough to make them unable to act. Just seeing his terrifying face and hearing his voice made people tremble from soul to body.

"Damn, a bunch of cowards."

After waiting for a long time, no one came out. Duanmu Huai was obviously very disappointed. He grumbled helplessly, then turned around and prepared to leave.

Just then, the crowd moved.

Just when Duanmu Huai turned around, lowered his head, and looked at the steps in front of him, the originally motionless crowd finally moved! !

Hundreds of Jianghu people jumped up, wearing black clothes, holding all kinds of weapons, and rushed towards Duanmu Huai!

Swords, spears, halberds, hidden weapons, poisons, sword energy and palm power.

Not hundreds, but thousands!

Duanmu Huai did not turn around, he did not even look up.

Then, the waves formed by the crowd completely swallowed him.