On weekdays, Gu Qing did all kinds of bad things without asking for the right to copy the Book of Swords several times.

"The Book from Heaven! The real Book from Heaven!"

The storyteller flipped through a few pages of the "Sword Sutra" and fell asleep, knowing that he would never be able to understand the innate sword intention in his lifetime.

He stuffed the ancient books back on the stone cabinet, stood up and said seriously:

"Quirehan is looking for him!"

Wen Ting raised his brows, put his index finger against his rouged red lips, and said in a strange tone: "Do they need to bother me, a little guy, about the matter of their ten seats?"

"I need to ask you."

"please?"

"Yes! I invite you, the famous tomb-keeper, to be called upon by name!"

"Who calls the name?"

"Besides Xiao Shushen, who else is there?"

The storyteller got down from his seat with a smile, came to the sword washing pool, squatted down and looked towards the center of the pool.

Among the rusty broken swords, there is a broken sword, but it has been brand new for a long time. Not only is there no rust or moss, the green sword is still buzzing and trembling violently, and the sword is full of energy.

The storyteller couldn't help but praise: "It must be Qingju. It has been alive for so long."

"This is not vitality." Wen Ting pointed out, "It is a little crybaby. It has been crying for thirty years and has never stopped."

Buzz!

Duanjian Qingju shook violently, as if he was making an objection, but the buzzing sound was even more harsh.

"The last time I saw it, it didn't look like this."

The storyteller squinted and vaguely remembered that the rust and moss on Qingju should have grown faster than other swords, or more.

"It always has the illusion that it is going to be born again, so it takes a bath and changes clothes again."

"again?"

"Yes! A lot of 'again'!" Wen Ting laughed jokingly, "After taking so many baths, but no one comes to favor me, oh my, my little crybaby, it's really miserable~"

Woohoo——

Qingju was shocked even more violently.

"Just wait and see. In just half a month, its rust and moss will grow faster than last time, and it will age faster."

"Always sad, your heart will die."

Wen Ting has long lost his previous desire to persuade, and now he is not afraid of attacking Broken Sword Qingju.

Dao Wan simply ignored the sword, turned to glance at the storyteller, and his face became a little more serious:

"What exactly?"

The storyteller stopped talking and went straight to the point: "He asked you to look for the remains of the Priest Killer."

"If you call me by name, won't you go in?"

"Can't get in."

"You can't get in by calling your name, but you can't get in from the Four Symbols Secret Realm?"

"It really doesn't work! The passage is also blocked, but the essence is the same."

"Then how do I find it?"

Wen Ting was speechless and spread his hands: "I don't leave the Sword Tomb, I'm isolated from the world, and I'm not given an approximate range of the spatial coordinates of the three-slayer priest's ruins. I'll risk my life to find it for you?"

"No need to die." The storyteller shook his green and jade finger, "You use your dog... uh, you can smell the smell of the Furious Immortal Buddha Sword, or the smell of the sword reading in the "Guanjian Canon". There are four swords, too.

Just have a general direction."

Wen Ting was about to scold him, but he was shocked when he heard the sound: "Have all those naughty things gone in?"

There was a complaint that after the disappearance of the Buddha, the Wrathful Immortal Buddha Sword was not in the Buddhist sect of the Western Regions. Wen Ting searched for it several times, and finally the trace was fixed on the master of the Guizhe Holy Mountain Taoist Hall.

I stopped looking for it.

The storyteller nodded and said nothing.

Wen Ting pondered for a moment, his eyes became dangerous, and he said warily: "What happens after we find it? What does he want to do? What can he do? Or is he going to continue to invite me - I won't go!"

He blocked the way out in advance.

Wen Ting had no interest in the dyeing ruins or anything like that, and he was too lazy to get involved in the overall situation.

"You don't need to be there, just find it and he will take care of the rest by himself."

"Isn't he only half alive?" Wen Ting didn't say anything, but was anxious in his heart, "What can you do if you're a loser who will die even if you climb mountains?"

"Don't talk trash!"

The storyteller gave him a vicious look and then said: "I don't know anyway, but if he said that, there must be a way."

"He has a trick..."

Wen Ting muttered, paced back and forth by the sword washing pool, and finally said: "Do you have an approximate direction?"

"none."

"Then you want me to look for it in the space debris? Looking for a needle in a haystack!"

"No! It's a debris flow out of space, go into the starry sky to find it! The existence of the ruins of the Priest Killer is similar to that of Void Island."

"What?" Wen Ting's face changed drastically, turning as black as coal, but surprisingly he didn't refute, he just muttered something that didn't make any sense, and in short he was swearing very dirty words.

Can it really be done?

The storyteller was horrified.

Anyway, when his brother made this outrageous suggestion before, he was not optimistic about it.

Now it seems……

"Have you broken through the Juggernaut?"

"No!"

"What about a breakthrough in another sense?"

"I won't tell you! You're such a big mouth, you can't hide any secrets!"

That was a real breakthrough... The storyteller felt relieved. Both brothers were so powerful. It was good. They could rest on their laurels again.

"how long it takes?"

"have no idea!"

Wen Ting rolled his sleeves angrily and turned to leave: "Wait, I have to ask Jianma for instructions, otherwise I may not be able to come back alive."

Kenma...the storyteller's mind moved: "Can I follow you?"

"Okay, you can follow me if you're okay."

"Take me there! Protect me and ask Lord Kenma to give me a sword seed, so I can practice my sword~"

"I can't take it with me, and I can't give it to you. You have to climb the mountain by yourself. It's not like I won't allow it - if you can climb it."

"devil!"

The storyteller stamped his feet and watched Wen Ting's solemn figure disappear.

He went mountain climbing.

The road to the east of the mountain has not been climbed for decades. This trip is probably extremely dangerous.

"That's right. After all, we are going to the stars to find someone..."

The storyteller gets a headache just thinking about it.

Aimlessly, this is harder than finding a needle in a haystack.

Can his dog nose really smell the smell of the Raging Immortal Buddha Sword and the like from the starry sky?

Bazun is an elder brother.

Wen Ting is also an older brother.

The storyteller doesn't want to come here, meet him once, and end up having to build a tomb for his second brother in this cemetery...

…

Waiting, the days are like years.

After about a year of suffering, there was a melodious sword cry outside the sky, and all the worshipers outside Dongshan raised their eyes.

I saw a ray of sword light returning from the sky, gathering into the sword burial mound, and disappearing invisible.

"Wen Jianxian!"

"Mom! I really saw the traces of Immortal Wen Jian. I have been worshiping here for three years in vain!"
To be continued...