Seeing that Li Bufu agreed, Mr. Mo nodded and handed him a wrinkled letter.

"This can be regarded as a token I gave you, with my handwriting on it, so it cannot be faked. You will go on behalf of me tomorrow."

Li Bufu looked at it without looking at it, so he put the letter away.

Afterwards, Mr. Mo Da drank a sip of wine and slowly talked about his martial arts experience.

"Swords and Qin have their own personality. The song I am best at is the song "Xiaoxiang Night Rain", so my sword is the same."

When Mr. Mo Da said this, he suddenly pressed the huqin with his right hand, and saw a blue light flashing, and a thin long sword pulled out, "Ding, Ding, Ding, Ding" stabbed everywhere on the table.

The thin sword flashed in green light, and it was ethereal and untraceable. The sword circle turned, and it was sometimes on the left and sometimes on the right, making people dazzled.

After a breath, I could only hear the sound of the sword, as if the strings of the piano were broken, and the green light suddenly disappeared, and the sword was already contained in the huqin.

The four plates placed on all sides of the table were cut out in a small corner.

Li Bufu's expression moved and said, "Good swordsmanship!"

If Mr. Mo cut all these plates, it would not be particularly powerful, but each plate had only a small corner broken and stopped at the same time, which was amazing.

"I have sadness in my sword, have you ever heard it?"

Li Bufu suddenly asked, "Like a human?"

Mr. Mo Da replied: "The man has long been dead."

Li Bufu said, "Where is the sword technique?"

Mr. Mo Da sighed: "If you don't die, you won't live happily. What's the point of living the sword that is supported by sadness?"

Li Buqu seemed to have played the song that Mr. Mo Da had just played again in his ears.

He looked out the window and it was raining heavily and the sky was dusk.

However, the raindrops float and tilt as the wind comes and goes, swaying, with very little noise, but it even breaks the soul.

Isn’t Mr. Mo’s sword the same?

Li Bufu actually sighed too.

Mr. Mo Da said: "Swords have sword intentions, and swords also have sword intentions. Ordinary warriors only practice moves but not minds. That is inferior martial arts, which is not taken by our masters."

Li Bufu nodded.

Mr. Mo Da said again: "However, the sword is still used to express its sword intent, just like a wanderer wandering around the world, with a sad and sad song, and you can express your feelings. As if there is no song, how can you express your emotions?"

Li Bufu continued to nod. Although the artistic conception of martial arts is very mysterious, the moves are of course extremely important and you must practice them.

Mr. Mo Da said: "Some people only know moves after all, and cannot understand the secrets of swordsmanship, that's normal."

"It's like I've seen a seven-year-old prodigy playing the song "Xiaoxiang Night Rain". He played every tune very well, but he didn't mean sadness, so the song lost its essence."

Mr. Mo Da changed his tone and said, "The same is true for the knife!"

Li Bufu suddenly fell into deep thought.

After a long time, Mr. Mo Da had finished a pot of wine, and he continued to say: "When we use sword technique, we think about how to defeat the enemy, rather than how to use sword technique well. The power of sword technique will inevitably be smaller. Because the knife intention hidden in our hearts is to win, not the sword itself."

"But if we only want to use the sword technique well and not how to defeat the enemy, then we will definitely suffer a great loss when facing the enemy! We may even lose in just a few moves!"

Li Bufu understood what Mr. Mo Da meant.

Mr. Mo Da said: "There is a balance in it, but it is like the tune and adjustment of the music and emotions in the song. It depends entirely on the feeling, and I can't tell it. But I think you will understand it slowly."

"You are right! There is a true meaning in this, and you shouldn't use moves, you should use your intention."

Li Bufu suddenly looked up, suddenly pulled out his knife, jumped out of the teahouse, and arrived at a remote alley, and began to practice his sword technique, as if he was drunk.

Sometimes he holds the knife in his right hand, his palm in his left hand, sometimes he holds the knife in his left hand, and his fist in his right hand, making some extremely strange and strange postures, such as backhand grabbing the ear, straight legs, single-leg jumping, etc.

These are the practice poses in the "Blood Sword Sutra".

The practice methods of the "Blood Sword Sutra" are far different from the "Shenzhao Sutra". The former absorbs a large number of Western methods, from the outside to the inside, and integrates the inside and inside, and finally connects with the "Blood Sword" method.

The latter is the orthodox Central Plains Heart Method, which is just a magical one and has excellent healing effect.

Li Bufu practiced the posture in the Blood Sword Sutra as if he had reached another state, as if he was crazy.

Fortunately, few people came in the remote alley. Even if someone heard the sound and wanted to find out, Mr. Mo Da was secretly shocked and retreated, so that he could not disturb Li Bufu.

Later, the night was already deep.

There are dark clouds, no moon or stars, and even raindrops are gone.

There were fewer and fewer people in Hengyang City, and they all returned to silence.

Li Bufu exchanged wheels with his arms, and a blood knife was in his hand. The light and shadow were blooming, just like a blood moon. The lonely moon shone in all directions, which was terrifying and terrifying!

In the middle of the night, Li Bufu was already sweating profusely, and his clothes on his back were soaked. However, he stayed up and was still moving his hands together, practicing qigong wildly.

Mr. Mo Da was secretly shocked when he watched, just because Li Bufu held a knife in his mouth, held his palm in his left hand, and clenched his fist with his right hand, and slashed the wind all the time, and his move was unexpected.

He used his left hand to make a palm technique, or pulled out the knife in his mouth and slashed it. The same is true for his right fist, sometimes he punched, sometimes he clenched the knife. He opened his bow left and right, and had his fist and palm clamped in the knife, which was amazing.

Mr. Mo Da couldn't help but think: If someone really faced him in front of him, even if he couldn't judge whether he was a palm or a knife, how could he resist it?

His martial arts skills are not much higher than Li Bufu, but he has rich experience and has read a lot of martial arts, so he can guide Li Bufu.

But when he looked at Li Bufu's swordsmanship again, he felt that he would probably not get much benefit when he went up to fight.

Mr. Mo Da sighed: "My Hengshan sword technique is known for its fantasy, but the sword technique he used is even more weird, more amazing, and more poisonous!"

With the fourth update, Li Bufu gradually stopped his work and wrapped the blood knife around his waist. His cheeks were flushed and his body was covered in sweat, and he was almost exhausted.

When Mr. Mo Da saw that he had finished practicing, he did not say hello to him anymore. He just played the huqin and gradually moved away, and chanted:

"The ten acres of deserted ponds have risen green duckweed, and the south wind cannot see the lotus growing."

"There are banana leaves through the window, but it has not been forgotten by Xiaoxiang's night rain."

Li Bufu stood still, as if he was still experiencing the feeling just now. After a long time, Mr. Mo had completely disappeared, he murmured.

"The poem that Mr. Mo Da left last seemed to be sighing about something. Could it be that his second-generation disciple of Hengshan School had withered and no one carried the tripod, so he came to make friends with me in order to bloom across the walls and add color to each other?"

Li Bufu has no sects and no sects. He is young, but his martial arts are very good, which makes the head of a sect come to win over. That is actually very normal.

But he turned to the idea: "Look at Mr. Mo Da, he doesn't look like that kind of person anymore. He probably did this just because I got along."

It's late at night, people are quiet and the wind stops.

After Li Bufu stopped the knife, he suddenly felt extremely tired and exhausted. He just wanted to find a bed and a pillow to have a big sleep.
Chapter completed!