Jiang Xiaolian hesitated for a while. Seeing that Chang Sheng was so persistent, she nodded.

"Okay, I'll go back to Beizhou, be careful yourself, don't die, I don't want to collect the body of my brother."

"Don't worry, although I can't kill the genius, I still have some means of escaping and I can't die."

They took care of each other, and the two parted ways.

If it was another trivial matter, Jiang Xiaolian would not pay attention to it. It was related to her master's life and death and she would not allow her to neglect it.

When Jiang Xiaolian walked away, Chang Sheng found that Mo Yu had woken up.

He was smashed hard before. Although Mo Yu opened his eyes, his limbs were weak and unable to mobilize his spiritual power. He was floating among the weeds by the strong wind and sand attached to his body.

After a few steps, Chang Sheng grabbed Mo Yu and pressed it to the ground. At the same time, the black knife mounted the other party's neck.

"You are not the uncle of the master, but what about the uncle of the master."

Mo Yu said the first sentence after she met Chang Sheng in a hoarse voice, without fear in her tone, but with loss.

"He's dead."

"Who killed it?"

Chang Sheng did not answer, but shook his head, and the black knife began to exude a sharp breath.

"Kill Tianjiao, die..." Mo Yu's eyes became hollow.

A tear fell from the corner of his eyes.

Not to let go of yourself, Mo Yu's sorrow comes from the dead killing of the genius.

"If you die, it turns out that killing Tianjiao will die, and invincible people will die."

The woman's murmur was filled with despair of the collapse of faith. She walked step by step to this day, and the belief that supported her to live in the shadow of her master was completely the figure who was called the genius at the age of twenty.

In her mind, the meaning of the three words "Slaying Tianjiao" means living.

Live in endless suffering.

Living through all day long practice.

Live in scolding and beating.

Live in reality and illusion.

Now, the first disciple among the sword fighting hall has lost the motivation to survive.

Close your eyes, your vitality will not be broken, and your heart will die first.

The waiting knife fell still.

It’s not that he always felt soft-hearted, but that he saw that the tears of despair were actually shedding to kill the genius.

"Who said that geniuses are invincible? Who said that invincible will not die? Are you using longing to resist the shadows and worship to fight despair? Have you ever had your own self? It turns out that you are a puppet."

The blade attached to the other party's neck was withdrawn, and Changsheng's murderous intent dissipated.

In his eyes, Mo Yu in front of him was not a living person, but a sword from the elder of the Doujian Hall.

Ma Lanbing is using his own means to temper the sword. Even if one day he will temper the sword to an unrivaled one, he will still be a dead person.

With a moment of thought, life and death change, the seemingly powerful black jade is actually so weak that it is contemptuous.

Shaking his head, Changsheng put away the strong wind and sand with the Seven Profound Glazed Tower, and turned around and left.

"I am a puppet? I am a puppet, myself..."

Mo Yu fell under the tree, bent her knees, buried her originally beautiful but always cold face between her knees, her shoulders thrust and she burst into tears.

She had never cried like this.

Once you cry, it will be a memorial service.

The humble soul was suffocated by tears.

Commemorating the shadows and darkness, it was broken by crying from then on.

"It should have killed her."

In the distance, Chang Sheng turned around and could no longer see Mo Yu's figure, but he could hear the faint crying louder and louder, and finally turned into a wailing loudly.

Perhaps it was Mo Yu's feelings for killing Tianjiao that touched Chang Sheng, and then he opened his mind.

This feeling of mastering life and death in human beings makes Changsheng feel strange and familiar.

It turns out that the feeling of power is a thought of life and death.

He lifted the black knife and prepared to take Qianyunling to the Qianyunling, but Chang Sheng was stunned.

He found something more on the blade, and when he looked closely, it turned out to be a very small drop of water.

That was Mo Yu's tears, which fell on the blade.

Tears are crystal clear, you can see your own reflection.

The blade shook, tears fell, and the black knife returned to Qianyun Order.

The steps that should have left have not moved for a long time, and the tears that made Changsheng hesitate were still the drops of tears.

For some reason, the tears fell and actually floated up and floated in front of Chang Sheng's eyes.

What's even more strange is that the tears actually changed.

From tears to a stone, from a stone to a grain of sand.

Sha Shuo quickly turned into a fruit, and then turned into a bean. The beans changed into leaves, the leaves changed into flowers, the flowers changed into green grass, and the green grass changed into water droplets.

The transformations have brought about strange phenomena.

There were countless common things in front of Chang Sheng's eyes. In the end, the tears turned into a soft grain of sand and stone, just like water, but had the appearance of sand and stone. Once you pinch it, it would break and soon gather again.

"A thought of life and death is a thought of sand! So that's it, a thought of sand actually exists in everyone's body, and it can only appear in just one thought."

When observing this soft sand and stone, Changsheng felt deeply moved. If Mo Yu had just been killed, I would probably not be able to find this strange and strange sand that was in the future.

Extend your palm, and a thought of sand slowly falls into the palm of your palm, like recognizing your master, changing its shape in the palm of your hand that you always live.

"It's still a short time for Mo Yansha."

Put away a thought of sand and rush to the trading area near the pool.

Almost a day has passed, and Wu Yong has acquired a large number of Mo Yansha.

When I found Wu Yong, I saw stones of different sizes piled up on the stall. Wu Yong was smashing them one by one, shaking his head and cursing. It seemed that he was in a bad mood.

There was a small pile of black crystal blocks piled up next to Wu Yong, about three pounds, not a lot.

"I spent more than 10,000 spirit stones, and I didn't even get enough of five kilograms of ink flame sand. I'm not lucky. It seems that I don't want the foundation-building pill."

Wu Yong was muttering, and suddenly found someone coming over. He thought he was selling Mo Yansha, and said without even raising his head: "The price has been reduced. It was ninety spirit stones just now, and now it is eighty spirit stones. No matter how big or small, just put it down. If you don't sell it, forget it."

"It's almost done, no need to accept it."

When he heard the sound, Wu Yong immediately looked up and found that it was the employer. He hurriedly smiled and said, "Senior brother is back. Here are the remaining spirit stones. There are more than 12,000 yuan in total. He is not very lucky, only more than three kilograms of ink flame sand."

Wu Yong hurriedly handed over the remaining spirit stones, but the other person didn't answer them.

"Take it as a reward." Chang Sheng said as he put away the more than three pounds of Mo Yansha.

"Reward? There are more than 7,000 spirit stones left. Senior brother, the reward is the foundation-building pill, and five hundred spirit stones are enough." Wu Yong felt that he had heard it wrong, rubbed his ears and said.

"You think it's too much, you can't help it."

"Not too much! Nothing too much! Thank you, Senior Brother!"

Wu Yong understood this time. He was rich and powerful, so he actually gave him more than 7,000 spirit stones as reward.

This is no longer a pie that falls from the sky, but a basket of golden pies that fall from the sky.

Holding a storage bag containing more than 7,000 spirit stones, Wu Yong was about to cry. So many spirit stones were enough for him to use for the rest of his life.

With tears in his eyes, Wu Yong helped Chang Sheng cut the remaining stones and collected nearly one pound of ink-flame sand, plus the previous one was as much as four pounds.

During this period, Wu Yong hesitated several times, but still asked in a low voice: "Are you, uncle of the master?"
Chapter completed!