"Since dreaming is useless, it's better to give it a try." Nan Jianing thought to himself, stepped on the thunder array, held the sword across his chest, and made a "dodge sharp light" stroke, firmly protecting the back of the sword in front of him.

A half circle. Qian Shan's soft sword was made of silk, and she patted Jianing's forehead gently and gently.

——Not "Phoenix Tower".

He had always heard of the elegant music played on the harp in Lirong Mountain. Although Jianing only knew a little bit about it, he still slowed down his wrist and made a faint "tangtangliuishui" with a faint force, trying to stick to the soft point of the sword. It was not as good as the blade and the sword head.

When they collided, the dark force suddenly turned into bright force, and the "faint mountain" was cut down quickly.

Qian Shan shook her head, and the sword suddenly turned, fell, and wrapped around Jianing's ankle.

——It’s not “high mountains and flowing water”.

There was no shortage of classical and elegant books piled up in Miyu Lake. Jianing just nodded slightly, picked up the handle of the knife again, raised his breath deeply, and swung the broadsword across the horizontal direction to make the wind rustle. Qianshan couldn't help but smile,

The soft sword shot out directly, flew into the sword array, and stabbed Jianing between the eyebrows.

Jianing was stunned, but then he couldn't help laughing, silently rolled up the soft sword and handed it to his husband.

——Not "Daocheng Gale".

Could it be that there is a master hidden deep in Yi Ya Mo and the world doesn't know about it? Jianing scratched his head, took out the hidden thread from his sleeve, and looked at it carefully. He tried to make a move with the flying thread, but Qian Shan turned the sword head with his hand as his heart, unable to focus on it.

The empty hidden thread was forced to fall softly to the ground.

——Not "Shajiang Yin".

Seeing her disciple pondering for a long time, Qian Shan squinted her eyes and smiled: "Don't worry, maybe you can go out and you will have the answer in your mind."

Unexpectedly, two versus two turned out to be this way of playing. Ziqi sneered in his heart, how could he forget the leader Wen Xianwen on the side? After half a day, the sun rose three poles, and the hot and poisonous sun made the three of them endure.

Stop and take a breath.

The three of them clicked, clicked, clicked, and explored all the moves of the four of them in the night step by step. Whenever the weapons of Grandpa Gui and Ziqi intersected, Qingqing closed her eyes and used stones to knock out the key sounds of Wenxian or Ziqin in her memory.

After all the moves were compared, when Ziqin and Qingqing fell into the sea, Grandpa Ghost lowered his head and muttered:

"It's not 'Daocheng Gale', it's 'Water Lotus'."

Qingqing only vaguely remembered that the moves that Master Wen played when he competed with him for the flute were very different from what he had seen on the tree. However, he still had only a partial understanding of it, so he asked Grandpa Gui: "Uncle Grandmaster, what are the two pieces of music?"

Different places?"

Ling Hugui thought to himself, and instead of answering her words, he asked: "What have you learned from grandpa these two days?"

Qing Qing was startled: "The geese are falling on the flat sand."

"Not stupid yet." Grandpa Ghost looked at Qingqing and smiled. Qingqing didn't know whether he was stupid or not, but he never dared to forget what his master had taught him. Therefore, even if Grandpa Ghost didn't mention it, he had already understood the meaning of Shibi.

What song was played?

Grandpa Ghost flew up and picked up the last few gravels in the ashes, and fluttered them on the ancient cliff.

After thousands of years of precipitation, the gray-faced Lirong Coast has already developed the purest, clear and ethereal sound in nature. Such a gift from gods and gods cannot be achieved by the likes of Linghu Gui or Linghu Ziqin, no matter how advanced their skills are.

.

I saw Grandpa Ghost's rags getting soaked gradually, and heat was coming out of the small hole.

Qingqing and Ziqi couldn't help but stare at Grandpa Ghost's every move. One listened intently to the lingering sounds echoing on the cliff, and the other carefully observed the moves in the fog in the cave. They saw that Linghu Ghost was both his enemy and himself.

The hand raises "Wild Goose Luo", accumulating strength but sluggishly; the foot steps on the "flat sand", swift and smooth - the moves are very similar to the singing of wild geese in autumn, and the singing of guqin. Even if you are watching, it also inspires Qing Qing

Come in hot sweat.

The white air rises in front of my eyes, like an immortal descending to earth, stars appear, and the figure of Linghu ghost flashes and moves in every corner of the narrow stone cave. It seems that the melody in my ears is not created by human beings, but the blue sea turns into tears and the dry cliffs

Composing a song, and following the orders of Linghu Gui to call for rain, he summoned thunder and snow from heaven to Lirong Mountain. Sand and rocks flew, clouds and snow flew...

This is the most elegant piece of Dongshan ancient music - "Goose Falling on the Flat Sand".

As Linghu Ghost's figure gradually slowed down, the lingering sound slowly faded away, while Qingqing stayed where he was, not knowing the end of the song. Ziqi helped his uncle sit down against the earth and rock, and Qingqing just woke up from a dream and ran to

passed.

Grandpa Ghost spent a lot of energy and smiled weakly at Qingqing: "Never heard of it?"

Qingqing shook his head. He only remembered that his master promised to play it to him, but he just hadn't realized it yet.

Zi Qi supported the acupuncture points on Linghu Gui's back and slowly lost some strength. Grandpa Gui was still breathing heavily: "You can remember as much as you can. Today, your grandpa, I allow you to go down the mountain."
Chapter completed!