Raindrops fell on the banana leaves in the corner of the back eaves, crisp but mottled. The pomegranate leaves in front of the hall were washed green and soft by the rain. A row of lanterns on the corridor swayed in the wind. I don’t know when oil lamps were lit in the house, and they were also

The wind blew a little withered.

When Du Ruo bowed, his long sleeves fluttered in the wind, and his hair on his temples fluttered. He raised his head slightly, his beautiful face wrinkled, and said: "Third Aunt, if it's inconvenient, you don't have to be embarrassed. After all, the person in charge of the Nangong family is Fairy Fuyao.

, I can think of other ways."

Du Ruo really couldn't bear to emotionally kidnap such an elder who had been talking about him for so many years.

Mrs. Nangong took Du Ruo's hand and said with a gentle smile: "You kid, you are so polite to Third Aunt. Third Aunt knows that you have suffered a lot in these years, but don't be so unfamiliar with Third Aunt, and

"Fairy Fuyao, that's what outsiders call her. Don't follow them. When you were a child, you were called Da Niu."

Du Ruotian smiled and said, "It's different now."

"What's the difference?" Old Mrs. Nangong complained: "When you were a child, everyone said you would marry my Amber when you grow up. Now that you have fame, do you look down on my Amber anymore?"

Du Ruo twitched the corner of his mouth and said hurriedly: "No, Third... Third Aunt, don't get me wrong, I..."

"Okay, okay," Old Madam Nangong pulled Du Ruo to sit down and said, "It's still the same as when you were a child. You stutter when I make this joke. I won't say it anymore. I will ask someone to call Hu Hu immediately. Although, Third Aunt Old

I don’t understand what’s going on with you young people, but when I see you at the age of three, I believe you won’t harm Amber. You didn’t do it before, and you definitely won’t do it now, right?”

Du Ruo slightly lowered his head and looked at Mrs. Nangong. The loving eyes of the elder were very pure, without any impurities. They were just the innocent hope of an elder hoping that the younger generation would be like when they were children.

After a while, Du Ruocai nodded slowly.

…………

The rain in the evening became heavier and heavier, pounding the ground, and the water splashed into mist. The visibility became worse and worse, and the outer walls beside the streets and alleys were almost invisible.

A woman in imperial attire was walking slowly on the street holding an oil-paper umbrella. Her temperament was gentle and she looked like a lady in every move. The arrogant rain soaked most of her skirt and her shoes were covered with water drops.

, it is Fuyao Fairy Nangong Amber who came out of Shuixie Tingchao Pavilion.

This place is called Xiaonan Lane, a very ordinary alley. However, the three religions and nine schools in Gusu City have never dared to set foot in it because there have always been rumors that Shuixie never went to the Nangong family's ancestral home after hearing that the master from Chao Pavilion left the island.

, only come to Xiaonan Alley.

As for why you come here,

Looking at her dress, she looks like Xiaojiabiyu every time, and you know she is here to meet her mother.

In fact, only Nangong Hubo knows how many masters who secretly protect Mrs. Nangong are hidden in this Xiaonan Alley.

Every time Nangong Hubo comes to Xiaonan Alley, she is alone. It is the same as when a daughter returns from an outing to meet her mother. She might carry some cakes or twist two sets of clothes, it's as simple as that.

The moment Du Ruo set foot in Xiaonan Alley, Nangong Hubo had already received the news, but she had no intention of showing up. However, Mrs. Nangong sent someone to inform her, so she couldn't help her thoughts.

Nangong Hubo walked quietly in the street holding an oil-paper umbrella, looking at the continuous rain in front of her eyes, her expression calm and calm, just like looking at the peach blossoms all over the street and the sunshine. As she walked, she stopped.

Outside a closed inn, a young man was squatting there, holding a few copper coins in his hand, and gently threw them to the ground. He kept repeating this action. The rainwater washed away in the tiles of the eaves, dripping.

It was smashed down, and I don't know how much rainwater stuck to the young man's body, but the young man didn't care and kept throwing the copper coins.

There were water flowers on the ground one after another, and it was very hazy in the evening.

The young man's clothes were somewhat torn but not mended. A very common black iron sword was stuck on the ground, with a wine gourd hanging on the hilt.

A scroll was carried on his back, and a few strands of hair were blown by the wind and covered the scroll.

Just like this, in this slightly hazy evening, there were no extra people or sounds on the street. There was only a woman in palace clothes holding an umbrella, looking at the young man who kept throwing copper coins and picking them up again.

After about twenty breaths, she slowly raised her feet and continued moving forward.

Just two steps away, Nangong Hubo suddenly heard a chuckle, and then, a long sigh came from behind: "One divination of thirteen hexagrams, none of them are you, thirteen people in a row, and none of them are you, this

Is the sword still useful?"

Nangong Hubo suddenly stopped again, turned around slowly, looked at the young man squatting on the ground, and said softly: "Swords are not practiced for others."

The young man raised his head slightly, looked at Nangong Hubo, his eyes seemed to pierce the rain curtain, slowly stood up, and said, "That is your sword."

"This is the right sword."

"For you, it is right, for me, it is wrong."

Nangong Hubo raised her foot and stepped on the ground, splashing a little ripple of accumulated water. She took two steps forward, and the oil paper umbrella was sprayed with water and dripping continuously. She said, "Are you waiting for someone?"

The young man shook his head and said, "I'm looking for someone."

"Who are you looking for?"

"The person in the painting is the one in my heart!"

Nangong Hubo took two more steps forward and said, "You are a swordsman, but you are going in the wrong direction. You should practice swordsmanship for yourself."

The young man said: "I don't know where love started. I don't know when the sword came back. It's thousands of miles away. It exists because of her. Without her, there would be no sword."

Nangong Hubo's face was expressionless, his eyes were like a clear spring, and he took two steps forward and said: "The great road is ruthless, and the holy way is ruthless. Love is just a concern and a fetter after all. Are you... waiting for me today?"

Nangong Hubo was asking, but it seemed like he was describing.

The young man took out the sword stuck on the ground, took off the wine gourd, took a sip, slowly tied it around his waist, pulled out the sword, held the sword in his hand and said: "My dear Wang Que, I was lucky enough to witness Fairy Fuyao's sword strike on the street that day.

Yesterday, Hua Chuan met the two people who survived your sword that day. He has some doubts about my swordsmanship. Please give me some advice!"

"good!"

The wind picked up and the sound of rain on the street suddenly disappeared.

The rain lines broke open and closed again,

I don't know if it was time or space, but it seemed to be broken for a moment, but everything remained as usual, without any change.

There is silence between heaven and earth,

The oil-paper umbrella moved slightly!

Nangong Hubo turned around and left, heading towards the depths of Xiaonan Alley. The rain continued to fall, her footsteps sounded light, and gradually, her slim figure disappeared into the night.

Only the young man under the eaves stood motionless, his hand still holding the sword, looking quietly ahead, one breath, two breaths, as if frozen, only a trace of blood slowly seeped out of the corner of his mouth.

"tick"

A drop of blood fell from the corner of his mouth to the ground.

A crack appeared on the black iron sword, then two, then three, and a gust of wind blew by. The sword turned into fly ash, was blown by the wind, and fell into the rain without any trace.

The hilt of the sword fell under the eaves.

The young man walked out in despair, walking step by step in the heavy rain, aimlessly and staggeringly, and gradually disappeared into the night.

Only one scroll was left behind under the eaves, and was blown by the wind and rolled behind the pillar, motionless.
Chapter completed!