"What are you drawing?"

Some people are as confused and curious as the Purple Sword Spirit.

The young Confucian scholar is sitting on the dragon coffin, holding a sword scabbard in one arm and lying horizontally on his knee.

"Just draw it casually, don't worry about it."

Zhao Rong said very seriously to the disfigured old Confucian scholar who walked out of the dark tomb passage.

He also looked at the latter very seriously.

He didn't look sideways.

"You...won't run away?"

Zhao Rong was silent.

At this time, it was less than half an hour before we separated from the bamboo forest courtyard.

The one-armed young Confucian scholar and the disfigured old Confucian scholar faced each other again.

But this time, it was changed to a place that seemed more suitable for death. The former also had a broken arm and a missing sword.

But the latter still held a cigarette bag in his hand and took a leisurely stroll.

It seems nothing has changed.

At the moment, there are only two Confucian scholars in the Deadly Silence Hall, and no one else is interfering anymore.

An old man and a young man looked at each other silently.

A person stood at the door of the tomb passage, blocking the only way out.

One person holds a neutral scabbard and sits quietly on the dragon coffin in the center of the hall.

At this time.

"Is there no road inside?"

The disfigured old Confucian scholar asked calmly, "Well, I still thought of some way to deal with me."

He nodded slightly.

The young Confucian scholar still did not answer.

He looked at the disfigured old Confucian scholar with a silent expression.

At the same time, the lone hand he placed on his knee slightly raised the scabbard in his hand to his lower abdomen.

In front of the disfigured old Confucian scholar, he gently shook the end of the sheath.

Suddenly, a large drop of bright red blood fell down.

Tick ​​tock...tick tock...

A series of blood drops hitting the coffin boards suddenly sounded in the underground palace hall.

Echoed again and again.

The sound of blood dripping seems to be getting louder...

The air in the hall suddenly became eerily quiet.

Zhao Rong looked directly at Mr. Qin Jian, with the scabbard in his hand lying between the two of them, his wrist shaking slightly.

Qin Jianfu looked at the haggard Confucian scholar's dark eyes and saw that he was still silent. The old man first lowered his eyes and glanced at the empty scabbard in Zhao Rong's hand and his strange movements.

The original Wenjian that Zhao Rong suddenly teleported away has disappeared.

The old man squinted his eyes again and quickly glanced at the lone white candle in the southeast corner of the hall.

Its light flickers.

Like a boat drifting in a heavy rainstorm on the sea.

Then, the old man looked at the strange blood paintings on the ground in front of him, the leaky dragon coffin with a corner soaked in dark red blood, the tomb passage in the apse with dozens of qi coming from it... and so on.

The disfigured old Confucian scholar holding a gray cigarette pouch in his palm used both his spiritual consciousness and his physical eyes to quickly scan the entire underground palace.

Zhao Rong watched this calm and extremely vigilant old man quietly, his left hand motionless.

The blood flowing with the blood of the Black Bird of Destiny overflowed the inscription of the Black Bird of Destiny on the scabbard, gathered at the end of the scabbard, and dripped naturally.

He deviated from the path of most of the Zhao family's disciples and followed Confucianism in writing. At this time, he lost his writing hand.

The remaining hand tightly grasped the remaining scabbard of the sword, facing an enemy whose spiritual energy cultivation level was higher than the third realm.

like a statue.

"Oh, it's quite lively inside."

At this time, the disfigured old Confucian scholar suddenly spoke and looked away from Zhao Rong's shoulder.

Raising his hand, he pointed a withered finger at the tomb passage in the apse blocked by Zhao Rong's body, and said in a calm tone:

"You seem to be familiar with the layout of this royal tomb, so...are they related to you? Are they your reinforcements? Or..."

The young Confucian scholar narrowed his eyes slightly, thought for a moment, and interrupted:

"Can you move faster and stop talking nonsense?"

His tone was very serious.

The disfigured old Confucian scholar paused in speaking, and his pair of cloudy old eyes suddenly narrowed into thin slits.

He stared hard at the young Confucian scholar with a calm face and a joking tone, and nodded vigorously, "Okay, I'll leave it to you to collect the body. I hope they can identify it and work together."

After identifying the corpse, a nearly complete corpse can be assembled.

The young Confucian scholar who had been calm finally smiled, and he was very happy and happy.

He patted the dragon coffin under him with his scabbard, with a sincere expression:

"Please be sure to increase your efforts. Just being outside was so boring, it was like not eating."

"good."

As soon as the young Confucian scholar finished speaking, the disfigured old Confucian scholar nodded slightly. Just after the word came out of his mouth, several loud "boom" sounds suddenly came from all directions.

The whole main hall trembled.

It turned out that the eight tomb passages leading from the main hall to other parts of the underground palace had all collapsed and were blocked by the collapsed boulders.

This includes the tomb passage through which the disfigured old Confucian scholar came, and the tomb passage behind Zhao Rong that leads to the deep apse.

The entire hall has temporarily become a place of death...

There is almost no way out.

After doing this casually, Qin Jianfu didn't even raise his wrinkled eyelids.

He held the gray pipe in one hand and clasped his back in the other, and walked straight forward, walking slowly, while carefully looking at the face of the young Confucian scholar in front of him with his narrowed eyes.

The way out of these buried concubines was blocked, Zhao Rong did not look back, and his expression did not change.

He had suppressed the smile on his face and looked at Qin Jianfu who was slowly approaching.

His face looked as usual.

The two Confucian scholars were only ten feet apart.

The old Confucian scholar who could have rushed to the young Confucian scholar in an instant and picked off his handsome head instead walked forward on foot, walking slowly.

Just like when he was the prime minister of the Wei Dynasty before his son was seriously injured by someone, he went to the Jinluan Palace early in the morning.

The old man gradually approached the bloody circle in the center of the hall.

As if the painful memories were brought back again, the face of the disfigured old Confucian scholar turned red, and he stared and gritted his teeth. It was very scary, like a wild beast that had lost its cubs.

His steps were no longer slow, he strode forward, stretched out a withered hand towards Zhao Rong.

It seemed that in the next second he would step forward regardless and twist the head of the calm young Confucian scholar off the dragon coffin.

Zhao Rong remained motionless.

Holding one-third of the scabbard in your hand, use one end of the scabbard to gently tap the lid of the dragon coffin beneath you.

He looked at the oppressive Qin Jianfu with a normal expression.

In the inner lake, the purple-clothed sword spirit, who had roughly guessed the sword master's intention, saw that the old beast outside did not pay any attention to the bluffing tricks on the ground and was about to break into the bloody circle. His heart suddenly trembled.

At the same time, I felt a sense of powerlessness.

However, at this moment, the figure of the murderous old Confucian scholar suddenly stopped.

Pause.

Like a nail, it was hammered into the edge of the blood circle!

The tip of his toe was only a centimeter away from the blood stain that someone had drawn carelessly.

Qin Jianfu's charging momentum stopped the car almost instantly.

Similarly, his previously furious expression also suddenly subsided.
To be continued...