Under the stimulation of the Blood-Burning Heart Sutra, Zhao Yuanchen felt that his whole body was about to burn.
He suddenly turned into his arms with his backhand and deducted two blood-red stone pills.
"I, Zhao Yuanchen, are not an assassin!!"
With an angry shout, he threw one hand down.
boom!
Blood-colored smoke and dust spread within a radius of twenty feet rose.
Zhu Mingcheng's Crayon Cracked Claw landed sharply.
The dust waves of broken wood and bluestone collapsed were three feet high.
This Wei Mansion worshiper looked at the red smoke in front of him and the blood on the ground, gritted his teeth and looked up.
"I'm here to protect the princess! I wish Mingcheng the head of Xiang Shang to protect the princess's safety!"
...
Yan Yao, who was shrinking into the brocade quilt, felt frightened when she heard Zhao Yuanchen's words.
Wait, is this Zhao Yuanchen?
Not Nalan Iron Fist?
Brother Iron Fist didn’t kill me!
【The deal he mentioned…】
Yan Yao blinked blankly, and finally remembered the last sentence Qin Yin said to her.
【I'll make a deal with you.】
Transaction, transaction...
A small cherry mouth is so wide that it is round.
There was a sudden light in my mind.
She seemed to understand something.
Is this helping me?
The girl suddenly felt embarrassed.
A master is a master, he really has the style of a master...
So, the tender white hand suddenly lifted the brocade quilt.
"He wants to kill me!"
"You don't even chase the assassin! This is the way to treat guests in the Wei Mansion, I have recorded it!"
The girl's angry words bloomed in the smoke and dust.
Zhu Mingcheng, who was half kneeling on the ground, trembled all over, and when he looked up, he was already full of evil light.
"The elite soldiers of the Wei Mansion obey orders! The whole city will arrest the murderers!"
"Don't care about life and death!"
...
In the waterway of the backyard of Wei Mansion, Zhao Yuanchen, covered in filth, crawled out like a stray dog, panicking.
He wants to return to Yuliang.
He wants to go back, he can't die here.
If he dies, no one will prove his innocence.
The staggering figure passed through the clothes washing workshop and the dyeing workshop...
A quarter of an hour later, a figure in a red embroidered dress walked towards the city gate in a bamboo basket in a trembling manner.
"Look up!" The soldier with a fat face shouted loudly.
The thick powder and the crooked red lips were like a wrinkled chrysanthemum under the squeezed smile.
"What an ugly girl! Who made you laugh with me? It's so fucking disgusting." The city gatekeeper almost vomited out and waved his hand in disgrace.
"roll!"
The figure dressed in a woman nodded and bowed, and the powder on her face was falling downwards when she smiled.
When I walked out of Jinyang City...
No one saw the tears flowing from the woman's eyes, and the joy of living in desperate situations.
[He Zhao Yuanchen, not dead!]
...
...
Five miles away, a wine shop is not closed yet.
In places where Jinyang City goes south and north, merchants are inevitably settling.
The figure in a big red embroidered dress was lying on the wooden table, holding the sea bowl with trembling hands, swallowing hot soup in big mouthfuls, and putting aside a few rag bamboo baskets.
With a thud, the sea bowl was put down.
After wiping the corner of his mouth, Zhao Yuanchen's excited heart finally stopped.
This hot soup finally made him feel warm and angry.
Only at this moment did he feel that he was truly alive.
Under the dim oil lamp, the signature curtain was twisting gently, and there were still three or two rows of guests in the tavern to eat.
Looking back, I looked at Jinyang City in the dark night.
The thick powder could not cover up the resentment on the face.
The assassin's toxic thoughts were obviously he assassinating the princess, but in the end he framed him...
When he returns to Yuliang, he must place a heavy reward order to find out who the assassin is tonight.
He wants to tear the other party apart!!
Crack.
Under the hatred, my nails made several deep marks on the table.
A figure sat down on the bench next to him, and Zhao Yuanchen hurriedly lowered his head.
In this restaurant that travels from south to north, it is the most common thing to share tables.
Out of the corner of Zhao Yuanchen's eyes, a wine pot and two wine bowls were placed casually on the wooden table.
Under the dim oil lamp, the man poured two bowls of wine, and a bowl was pushed in front of him.
"In September, it's cold at night, drink some wine to warm your body."
The plain words sounded, and the rising heat of the rice wine seemed even more calm.
Zhao Yuanchen was stunned, then his face was drooping gratitude, and he felt even more aggrieved.
In the end, it turned out that a passing gangster came to comfort him.
Zhao Yuanchen is the pride of heaven. He had never liked such rough wine before, but that bowl of wine was now more precious than any wine he had ever drunk before.
His throat was choked. Although his head was wrapped around his head, Zhao Yuanchen still nodded vigorously, reached out to pick up the bowl of wine, and lowered his head and drank in small sips.
The warm rice wine enters the throat, warms the stomach and warms the heart.
As he drank, Zhao Yuanchen felt sad and tears flowed down his eyes.
Now he has no money on him, and if he has any, he will definitely hand it over to this gangster. This is the warmest meal he has ever had in many years.
The figure next to him seemed to be unaware of anything. He drank a bowl of himself and filled it with the empty bowl for Zhao Yuanchen.
“There are two types of people who drink.”
"One is sober, the other is drunk."
He picked up the wine bowl and blew it. The heat was blown away. The man drank the wine in the bowl again and breathed comfortably.
"People who sober up their alcohol often laugh at drunken guests, and they are confused and do not know the morning and night."
"But what about the drunk people..."
The man looked at the wine bowl in his hand and grinned, "But he always laughed at people who were drunk and said that there was no wine or sword, and this was not a world of martial arts at all."
These words without any background are more like the drunkard talking to himself, but their tone is quite calm.
Zhao Yuanchen nodded in agreement, but there was a doubt in his pupils because he felt the sound for no reason...
Somewhat familiar?
"Just listen to some complaints."
A self-deprecating voice burst into laughter, put down the wine bowl in his hand, and the man stood up and left.
Zhao Yuanchen raised his head, and his eyes under the thick powder looked at the jianghu guest.
The other party is also smiling at himself.
That young face...
Zhao Yuanchen picked up the wine bowl and froze it in the air.
Because he saw an extremely familiar face.
Because one of the man's hand...was on his own wine bowl.
Pinch it gently.
Amid the subtle cracking sound, the wine bowl quietly shattered.
The expression on Zhao Yuanchen's face turned into a terror at this moment.
One palm was buckled around his neck like iron claws.
The extreme weakness after the outbreak of the Blood-Burning Heart Sutra is undoubtedly revealed at this moment, and there is no spiritual power.
Zhao Yuanchen was like a weak old chicken, trying his best but not getting free.
He stared at the broken bowl slices that were still slowly moving towards his throat under his forced support.
His courage disappeared without a trace when he saw the young face.
The familiar white clothes, the familiar outline, without the familiar iron face...
But there is a face that has turned into an inner demon and will never forget even if it dies.
"Qin..."
Like a drowning person begging hard.
"Wine is well and set off on the road."
The whisper in my ear was plain, and the sharp pieces of porcelain cut through Zhao Yuanchen's delicate palm with unquestionable force, and finally pierced into my throat.
All the reluctance, begging, anger...
Quietly broken.
The eyes under the powder suddenly widened, and then the strength of the struggle of the whole body dissipated like a tide.
Zhao Yuanchen, dressed in a woman, widened his eyes, with blood foam in his throat, holding his throat with both hands, hanging heavily on the wooden table...
No breath.
In the restaurant, the shopkeeper and the waiter were napping behind the counter.
The guests from Sanliang are still drunk.
Qin Yin's figure stepped out of the wine shop, carrying the drunkenness today.
He raised his head and looked at the night sky, his mouth grinned, as if he was smiling at the gods.
One tael of silver was thrown behind him.
Only a quiet voice lingers in the air.
Chapter completed!