On the Qilian Mountains, plain snow sprinkled all over.

Fengyi's breath melted the floating snowflakes, and she exhaled a cloud of white mist, which even made her facial features blurred, giving her a chill.

Outside Yumen Pass, hundreds of thousands of troops from the Zhao Kingdom were encamped. Except for the attack in the first two days, they had been training soldiers the rest of the time.

Although there was no fighting, the surrounding air was oppressive and uncomfortable, and even the people in the city walked down the street with solemn expressions, with no smiles on their faces.

There are well-trained soldiers patrolling the streets from time to time, arresting people who spread rumors everywhere, one of them is Xiao Su.

"This Zhao Kingdom is really crazy. It's the twelfth lunar month of winter and the snow is falling. They actually want to start a war. I don't know how many people will die in this battle."

"Let's go. This Yumen Pass is heavily guarded. If Zhaoguo wants to attack by force, they will have to pay an extremely heavy price. They will pay for it with human lives. They will not act rashly for a while. Besides here, there is a trail with steep terrain, but it can be bypassed.

To the hinterland of Yumen Pass, it is not suitable for a large army to march, and it is easy to be annihilated in one fell swoop."

"Qingguo has suffered losses in this area before, so it has been keeping a close watch on it. The news has been received. Many Jianghu people in Zhaoguo rushed to the critical point of life and death and crossed the dangerous place."

The next day, a few people rushed to the small town. The whole city was covered with white snow, and the snow piled up layer after layer.

Wails and horns resounded through the sky. Due to the fighting, the battlefield was stained scarlet red and devastated. Behind them, they could only see the backs of each of them holding the reins.

There are countless corpses under the city, including generals wearing armor, soldiers whose names cannot be named, and others who appear to be people in ordinary clothes wearing ordinary clothes.

The fighting here is so frequent and so many people die that there is no way to clean up the battlefield and we can only let the corpses pile up.

A general whose armor was covered in blood and holding a spear smiled and said: "Fortunately, it is winter. If it were a hot summer, not only would the smell of blood be soaring, but the whole city would be filled with a rotten smell, which would make people unable to sleep at night.

If you wake up, there will be some animals in the sky that will eat these corpses, and they might even cause a plague."

There were ferocious scars on his face, and his dark eyes stared into the distance, showing no emotion at all.

He has been fighting in this city for decades, and the war here has never stopped. The Zhao Kingdom is unwilling to take human lives to fill the Yumen Pass, and is trying every means to go around to the hinterland to form a pincer attack.

The general said that he had seen too many people die. Some soldiers who were chatting with him yesterday were pierced by thousands of arrows and made holes. There were also aging veterans who were beheaded by capable men and strangers.

Fengyi and the others arrived by chance, as a war had just ended.

The old man with a scimitar was walking in the city, leaving blood marks on his feet. He saw Feng Yi and grinned: "Boy, do you have any wine?"

"have."

Fengyi threw him a jar of wine and found a tea shed to sit down: "Lao Dao, when did you come?"

Lao Dao opened the wine jar, smelled it, sighed contentedly, and then replied: "I've been here for almost three days, and I haven't tasted a sip of wine. I almost feel like a bird has passed out of my mouth."

"Fortunately, your kid is here. By the way, where is the fat guy who follows you? You don't want to inherit my mantle. Isn't that guy clamoring to become my disciple? I agreed."

Fengyi said: "He has returned to the capital."

"That's it." Lao Dao's cloudy old eyes were in a trance. He was silent for a moment, then raised his head to look at Fengyi: "I'm old. I may not be able to get out of this city."

He touched a scimitar with tenderness. He sighed heavily and said in close prayer, "Boy, I don't want you to become a disciple. I just don't want them to follow me into the grave."

He loved the scimitar on his back more than his own life. In a trance, he saw a graceful singing and dancing figure, with lingering affection in his eyes, quietly and without regrets, waiting for him to come after he had avenged his bloody revenge.

Own.

"I once failed a very important person because of these knives. I regretted it. When I went back, there was only a tombstone left. I returned the knives to the world and gave myself back to her."

Lao Dao was silent for a long time, not even drinking his favorite wine, and suddenly jumped up with sharp sword skills, which were so wonderful and exquisite that it left people with endless aftertaste.

Fengyi watched, remembered it in her heart, and followed Lao Dao.

"Boy, you have talent, but it's still a bit worse than what I used to do."

The old sword grinned: "There was someone who accompanied me to practice swordsmanship back then, and this sword was also a gift from her."

Fengyi's mouth twitched and she almost drew her sword and chopped the old man down.

She knew that this old sword had a story, but such a show of affection was too much.

You can guess with your toes that the person Lao Dao said was practicing swordsmanship with him must be his sweetheart.

When Lao Dao was drunk, he talked about that woman.

He had no choice but to avenge the bloodshed that caused his whole family to be wiped out. He asked her to wait for him to come back and hide in the fields. It was a pity that God's will played a role and the woman was also killed.

After he had taken revenge, he wanted to leave with the woman, but the woman left a message asking him to take a good look at the world for him.

In this way, Lao Dao wandered around the world and developed a skill in painting. He painted everything he saw and burned it for the woman.

Then he disappeared from the world for more than twenty years.

Lao Dao's face turned a little red, he put away his scimitar, took a sip of wine, and smacked his lips: "It's better to have the Daughter's Red on you, the others are missing something."

Fengyi stood in the snow and shouted playfully: "Master."

Lao Dao raised his eyes, tears flashing in his eyes. Not wanting to embarrass himself in front of a few juniors, he raised the wine jar and took a deep sip.

Damn boy, why are you so sad?

I'm not dead yet.

Lao Dao was a little sad, always feeling an inexplicable atmosphere.

Fengyi smiled and said: "I will definitely find a qualified heir to pass on your mantle. I will ensure that this sword will not be buried and make this sword famous all over the world."

Lao Dao rolled his eyes at her: "I am quite old, and I am seeking this kind of false fame. I am famous all over the world. I did it more than 20 years ago."

"It doesn't matter to me whether you remember her or not. Just remember her. Burn some incense and paper money every year. I won't be hungry when I get down there."

Lao Dao took the wine jar and walked slowly towards the city, but suddenly stopped.

"Boy, call Master again and listen."

"Master."

"Well, it's not bad. Remember, her name is Jiang Sheng."

Lao Dao said that he practiced swordsmanship first for revenge and later for protection.

When the sword is unsheathed, it is for protection rather than killing. It does not matter whether it is protecting a person or a country.

After all, you shouldn't practice swordsmanship just to kill people.
Chapter completed!