Zhui Xu

The teenager who was still running away turned back like a beast.

Shi Shuifang pulled out the scimitar at his waist and greeted him with a strange cry of "Wow".

The distant mountainside was full of people, and the guests of the Yan family and the dealers of the Li family were still gathering. The people standing in the front watched this scene with a little bit of astonishment. Chewing out something is wrong.

Recalling the tragic situation of Wu Cheng being knocked over to the ground, some people whispered: "I was hit." Others said: "This young man is entrusted."

"Shi Daxia's sword technique is exquisite, how can he know?"

Among the people's whispers, people such as Yan Tiehe, Li Ruoyao and others turned their eyes to the monk Cixin, and still asked: "How is this young man's kung fu?" It is because Cixin is the only one who has fought against the young man. , The monk also stared down, his eyes were slightly nervous, but his mouth said: "He took me a palm, he shouldn't be so relaxed." Everyone couldn't help but nod their heads.

In the distance under the setting sun, Shi Shui Fangmiao's knife slashed out sharply, with a wicked cry, Yan Yunzhi was also watching the momentum of the knife, and his heart was faintly cold.

She had just fought with Shi Shuifang just now, until the eleventh move, she was put on her neck by the opponent's scimitar. At that time, it was still a contest, and Shi Shuifang never tried her best. At this time, in the setting sun, he slashed out against the young man with a sharp sword. The strange screams in his mouth also had their origins. Often the murderers in the Miao and Western Regions imitated the howls of mandrills and ghosts. The tone is strange and strange, as the tricks are used to boost one's own skill, and secondly, it makes the enemy fearful. In the previous competition, if he used such a trick, it would be extremely difficult for him to catch it.

In the grass and rocks below, the figure of the young man rushing towards the stone water did not slow down or evade at all. The two figures suddenly intertwined, and there was a bang in the air, stirring up countless grass stems, soil and gravel. Shi Shuifang made a long scream of "Ah--", the scimitar in his hand swung like electricity, and his figure retreated backwards, and then moved to the side. The figure of the young man was like a tarsal maggot, in the range of Shi Shuifang's knife light. Internal collision.

Because they were far apart, the people above couldn't see the details of their moves. However, Shi Shuifang's figure moved very fast, and the strange screams between the blades almost became hysterical, how sharp is the blade of the blade? I don’t know what weapon the young man is holding, but at this moment, he is pressing Shi Shuifang’s front face. Most of Shi Shuifang’s scimitars can’t cut people, but the surrounding grass is flying in the air. Once the scimitar seemed to be slashed into the young man's hand, but it was beaten back with only a "pawn" sound.

"What kind of way is this boy?"

"What weapon did he use?"

Among the people whispering, Yan Yunzhi stared at everything below with widened eyes. The Tan Gong sword she cultivated was the sword of assassination. Her eyes were the most important. But at this moment, the two figures collided and sinked in the sea of ​​grass. After all, she could hardly see the teenager clearly. What is in the hand. It's the uncle Yan Tiehe Xixi