MTL - Ask Sword-Chapter 644 blood fog

  Standing on the stone steps, Cui Yixian stopped and looked at the temple in front of him.

  White bricks, blue tiles, red eaves, two copper rings on the doorknob are hung with patina, and a layer of yellowed window paper is pasted behind the hollow wooden window grille. It is no different from ordinary temples.

   Except for the invisible barrier that blocks all spiritual consciousness and sound.

  “.”

  Cui Yixian stood still, and Chen Danqiu was inside the door. With just a light knock on the door, the future of the Cui family, Xuegong, Yu country and even the whole world will change.

"What's wrong?"

The voice of people sounded from behind, Cui Yixian turned to look at the smiling Xi Yangyu, who patted the stone lion's high head, and said slowly: "Sword cultivators should be resolute and determined to make progress. It's really not like a mother who is so hesitant. you."

  Cui Yixian is like an ancient well without waves, no expression can be seen on his face, "...what do you want to say?"

   "I want to say,"

  Xi Yangyu looked serious, "No matter what choice you make, brother, you must make sure it is what you want. You are a first-class sword cultivator in the world, and no one can force you."

What's the meaning?

  Cui Yixian stared at Xi Yangyu's sincere expression.

  Cui Shi always hoped that Cui Yixian would succeed Lian Xuanxiao as the head of the mountain. These days, he urged him many times in secret, but he put it aside.

  The document announced today was probably released by Cui finally unable to restrain himself.

   Could it be that Xi Yangyu guessed something?

   Not far away, the stone lantern in front of Lian Xuanxiao's tombstone was flickering, illuminating the two who were staring at each other silently.

  dangdangdangdang—

  Twenty bells ring from the Bell Tower of the Academy Palace,

  Time, Haizheng.

  ——

  In the underground prison of Dali Temple, a middle-aged prisoner with disheveled hair was holding on to the iron window slightly higher than the outside ground, silently counting the number of bells.

   Twenty rings, the time has come.

  He jumped back on the bed, took a deep breath, and tapped the edge of the bed with his purple and black nails, making regular noises.

   "Mu Tou Shihao Village, there are officials arresting people at night."

   "The old man walks over the wall, and the old woman goes out to watch."

  The sound of poetry chanting in the middle of the night woke up the other prisoners in the prison, and the sound of shouting and kicking the wall sounded one after another.

  The guards who were resting in the cell at the entrance of the prison also heard the sound, and rushed over with water and fire sticks.

   "Why are the officials so angry! Why are the women crying?"

   "Listen to the speech before the woman, the three men are garrisoned in Yecheng."

  Another prisoner also knocked on the edge of the bed, and chanted poems in response. Then the third person, the fourth person

   "Shut up, do you want to be beaten?!"

  The jailer listened to the gradually converging reading, with an extremely ugly expression, and stood in the corridor shouting and cursing.

This song "Stone Trench Officials" was created by Du Gongbu when he witnessed the tragic scene of the people's livelihood during the war. Folks are restless.

   makes it an "anti-poem".

Song Shaoyuan, who also heard the movement, stepped into the prison. His eyes swept across the cells on both sides, and he fixed on a gray-haired old man. He couldn't help frowning and asked, "Zhang Xinghuai, why are you involved? In two months, you will be involved." If you can be released after serving your sentence, why bother to get involved."

The old man shrank his neck when his name was called. He was a political prisoner left over from the period of the Holy Queen. Strictly speaking, he was only an accessory. He is in prison.

  The big man had died of illness a few months ago, and the Dali Temple had no reason to keep him locked up, and planned to release him after a while.

   "Song Master Book,"

  Years of prison life have smoothed out all the corners of Rui Xinghuai. He leaned against the wall, lowered his head and said in a low voice: "Our relationship is pretty good, right?"

   "It's okay."

  Song Shaoyuan nodded. Zhang Xinghuai's charges were not serious, and his treatment was much better than that of other prisoners. Not only could he read and write in the cell, but he could often go to the surface to help officials process some documents while wearing shackles.

   "Then why did you approve my release from prison?"

  Zhang Xinghuai's voice seemed to come from afar, he turned his head slowly, his face hidden in the shadows, "I have been imprisoned for most of my life, and I don't remember what it's like to live outside.

  No one recognizes me outside, and no one remembers that I was a famous scholar, doctor Guanglu, and even touched the queen's phoenix bed.

  Here I am the respected old Zhang. Outside, I am just a worthless, unaccompanied old man.

   You said, why did you approve my release from prison? "

  Song Shaoyuan was speechless. He could understand Zhang Xinghuai's situation, but he couldn't help it.

   "Master Song, you are a good person."

  Zhang Xinghuai struggled to get up on the edge of the bed, moved to the door of the cell, stared straight at the other party, and said softly: "Run."

   What to run.

  Before the thought was formed, Song Shaoyuan saw Zhang Xinghuai's fingers swell rapidly, followed by his arms, shoulders, chest, and abdominal cavity.

  Zhang Xinghuai, together with the more than 30 Haotian believer prisoners who were held in different cells and chanted "Shihao Officials" loudly, all swelled to the limit.

   "Haotian is above!"

  Those Haotian believers all had distorted faces, and their eyeballs were almost popping out of their sockets, but they were still shouting and praying at the top of their lungs.

   Immediately, it exploded.

   Boom boom boom!

  The shock wave instantly tore through the iron railing of the cell door, and the solid prison collapsed like a sandcastle.

  The strong wind blew up sand and rocks, and the strong light burned his eyes. Song Shaoyuan only remembered being pushed by someone, and then flew out and hit the wall.

   "Master Song! Master Song!"

  The jailer’s shout brought back Song Shaoyuan’s consciousness. He opened his eyes in a daze, only to see ruins standing alone under the clear moonlight.

   Regardless of whether the accident would affect his future career, Song Shaoyuan, supported by the jailer, held his bleeding forehead, stood up unsteadily, and looked aside.

  Mr. Liu, who had just begged for help during the day and pushed himself, was hit head-on by the explosion, and was already **** and decapitated. You can only be identified by the clothes you wear.

  Sadness spreads in my heart, followed by anger and doubt.

  The Dali Temple prison, like other important institutions, is equipped with prohibitions against spells and is equipped with sniffing dogs.

  How did these Haotian believers hide from the sky and create an explosion?

sand-

  The fine, raindrop-like sound sounded from the cracks in the broken rubble.

  The people who are still alive are at a loss, looking at the ruins under their feet that are constantly making strange noises.

  In the next moment, the flesh and blood of all the prisoners who died by self-explosion quickly evaporated and atomized, rising from the bricks and tiles, weaving into a blood mist.