Chapter 149: The strongest, the name of a person!

When Fan Xian decided to pass through the narrow passage under the snow-capped mountains again, the three-member group broke out in the most intense quarrel after the Wu Cross River converged. The quarrel originated from the differences of opinions between them. The three of them knew very well why Fan Xian had to return to the temple again, but Haitang and Wang Shisanlang knew even more that this was a great adventure. Finally, everyone escaped from the temple. The blind master who had taken action against Fan Xian for some reason did not kill Fan Xian directly. But if Fan Xian went back again, who knew what was greeting him?

Haitang and Wang Shisanlang were both worried about Fan Xian's life and death, because a fact that made them a little complicated was that the temple did not seem to care about the life and death of them, but just tried to keep Fan Xian in that temple forever.

Whether it was summer or autumn, the wind and snow in the extreme north gradually began to blow again, and the air was filled with increasingly heart-wrenching cold. The crabapple wrapped in thick hair collars, opened their bright but tired eyes, and sincerely persuaded Fan Xian: "After several months, Shisanlang and I did nothing, and we can't help you, but we can't watch you die."

Fan Xian held a wooden stick tightly in his right hand to help him walk. He listened to Haitang's words, but he did not react at all, and his face became calm.

"I think we should return south as soon as possible, whether we go to the capital or go back to Dongyi, Qingshan lineage or Jianlu disciples, take them to the temple to explore. I believe that the possibility of rescuing that master is greater." Wang Shisanlang didn't know the real relationship between Wuzhu and Fan Xian, but he knew that Fan Xian cared about the great master very much, but he couldn't understand why the great master did not even have the courage to break the formation under the pressure of the temple, and even stabbed Fan Xian.

The suggestion Wang Shisanlang made at this time was actually safe. Since Fan Xian knew the road to the temple, he had prepared for this for several years, and with this experience, once he returned to the south and came north again in the future, he would not be difficult to bring some powerful helpers.

However, after hearing Wang Shisanlang's words, Fan Xian narrowed his eyes, and the coldness was as cold as the temperature in the air. He directly covered the faces of his friends beside him, saying word by word, slowly but extremely firmly: "Don't forget the oath before entering the snow field. Except for you and me, the whereabouts of the temple cannot be known to anyone in the world!"

Wang Shisanlang's expression changed slightly, but he shut up because this was what he and Haitang had promised Fan Xian. But he didn't know why Fan Xian had the courage to explore the temple again, but he seemed to feel endless fear and nervous about the whereabouts of the temple might have spread to the world.

"Shisan help me up the mountain, and you stop at the snow mountain. Find a way to bring Ada and A Er and others to move the camp here." Fan Xian took his eyes back from the snow mountain towering into the sky, with his pupils slightly moist, looking at the crabapple wrapped in a fur coat. He said softly: "You are waiting for us to come back in the camp."

"I won't go up the mountain with me?" Haitang's face, which was exposed outside the fur, was flushed and he said in surprise.

"You said that this trip to the temple was not helpful." Fan Xian smiled self-deprecatingly and said, "In fact, without you, I have died in the snow and ice, so don't say anything like this in the future. This time I went up the mountain, I was going to deal with my uncle, whether it was you or Thirteen. In fact, there was no way to have any impact on this battle situation."

He apologized and said, "This is a bit rude, but you also know that my uncle is really too powerful."

Haitang and Wang Shisanlang didn't say anything. Fan Xian continued to say calmly: "If it weren't for someone to help me, I wouldn't even want to take Shisan. We went up the mountain a while later, and you waited at the foot of the mountain to prepare for the response. Once things were inconsistent, we would leave the mountain with ease... but don't worry too much. According to the rules of the temple, except for me, as long as you leave the scope of the temple, they will not attack on them on their own initiative."

"If it's a response, how long will I wait for you at the foot of the mountain?" Haitang Di asked in his eyes, but his heart felt a different feeling. In this mountain temple wilderness covered by wind and snow, human force seemed so weak. Compared to this, Fan Xian's mind is more worth relying on.

"Three days... and Thirteenth will be responsible for contacting you. If I let you leave..." Fan Xian's eyes suddenly felt a faint sense of sorrow, like a weak boy, "You must leave immediately, at least... you must also notify my wife and children... what happened to me."

Haitang and Wang Shisanlang fell into silence at the same time.

The more you go up the mountain, the less wind and snow. The temple, which was deeply trapped in the mountains and covered by the sky and ice, was above. The second time I came to visit, I was already an old friend, so I naturally knew the old way. Fan Xian held a wooden stick with one hand and Wang Shisanlang's shoulder with the other, climbing towards the snow-capped mountain with great difficulty. It took no time for him to come to the straight bluestone road.

Wang Shisanlang was carrying a big jar behind his back, which looked very heavy. However, in the past few months, Shisanlang had been polishing his body and mind in the extremely cold ice and snow, and his spirit was extremely strong and he didn't care about this burden at all. Fan Xian looked at his figure, his eyes lit up slightly, then he immediately lowered his cough, and said, "Even if you want to bury your master in the temple and complete his will, we must come this time."

Wang Shisanlang was silent for a moment and said, "Don't worry about my heart. If it were just for this matter, I would have come alone. You seem to have been born to offend the gods in the temple. If you follow you all the way, I will be much more dangerous."

Fan Xian smiled and cursed: "You have no conscience."

"The master's will be to sprinkle his ashes on these bluestone steps..." Wang Shisanlang suddenly sighed and looked at the bluestone steps that were towering into the sky in front of him.

Fan Xian was silent for a moment but shook his head: "The Sword Saint thought this was a divine realm, so he was willing to put it on these bluestone steps. You and I have entered the temple. Naturally, I know that it is not a divine realm. Now you are still going to do it according to his wishes?"

"What should we do?"

"Come on your back and listen to me for a while."

From that snowy night a few years ago, when the king Shisanlang of Lu was sent to Nanqing by his master Sigujian and sent to Fan Xian, he had become accustomed to listening to Fan Xian's words. Although Fan Xian regarded him as a friend, Shisanlang absolutely did not have much awareness of being a partner. Perhaps it was because he was too lazy to think too much complicated things, or perhaps because he was devoted to serving the sword, he handed over all the things that needed to waste his head to Fan Xian. So when Fan Xian said everything he listened to him at this time, Wang Shisanlang naturally listened to him, carrying a heavy urn on his back. He held Fan Xian on the seriously injured place and climbed into the snow-capped mountain step by step.

I don’t know how long I climbed, but the long bluestone steps finally came to the end. The gray-eaves and black walls, the extremely solemn and magnificent temple was once again exposed to the eyes of the mortals on earth. Although it was the second time I came. Wang Shisanlang could not help but feel a faint feeling of excitement after seeing the true appearance of the temple.

Fan Xian was in a very calm mood. He just felt a little excited in his chest and coughed violently. The coughing sound spread disrespectfully throughout the large platform in front of the temple. It spread far away in the snow valley of the mountains.

Wang Shisanlang looked at him nervously, thinking that since he was here to steal people, he had to be a little conscious of collecting flowers, so why was he so arrogant? He was afraid that the temple would not know that there was someone outside.

Fan Xian coughed for a long time, and his body bent into shrimps, almost shaking the wound on his chest and abdomen, and then slowly straightened his body, straightened his waist straight, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked coldly at the large plaque above the temple, the word "Wu" and three m on it, maintaining a heart-wrenching silence.

Of course, the temple knew that someone was coming outside, and I guess he knew at this moment that he wanted to erase the target. Ye Qingmei's son, Fan Xian, a fellow traveler from the God Realm, also came outside the temple. What made Fan Xian feel a little uneasy was that the quietness of the temple seemed a little strange at this moment. He couldn't help but think of Uncle Wu Zhu who deliberately showed mercy...

Not silent for too long, Fan Xian's lips twitched slightly. He stared at the thick dark door of the temple. He took a deep breath and vented a word sinisterly: "Smash!"

There are very few mortals who know the whereabouts of the temple. There are very few people who have been to the temple. At least in recent hundreds of years, only the Great Master of Pol in the West and Kuheshaun from the East have been here. Even Pol's wife, Vobova, had no chance to travel to the temple. In people's imagination, no matter who comes to the temple, they must always be respectful. No one would have thought that someone would smash the temple door today.

Breaking into the door is a hooligan's way of doing it. Although it is another to say whether the thick door of the temple will be broken, at least Fan Xian's word already means that he is not afraid of angering the temple, probably because he knows that the temple is a dead thing and there is no human beings who should have joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.

Wang Shisanlang did not hesitate at all, and groaned with one hand and lifted Sigujian's urn beside him. The true energy in his body was radiant and slammed the brown urn hard!

With a bang, the urn was smashed to pieces on the thick door of the temple ground, shaking countless smoke and dust. Occasionally, a few unburned bone pieces flew out!

The pink mist made of the ashes gradually dissipated, and the thick main entrance of the temple was not smashed, but a deep trace appeared, which looked a little desolate. What was particularly dazzling was that beside the trace, a bone edge pierced deeply into the door.

It's like a sword.

Wang Shisanlang's lips were slightly dry, and his eyes were staring at the bone edge, thinking that even if the master died, the remaining bones were still so full of sword intentions.

This was naturally a feeling of confusion that a disciple had, but Wang Shisanlang watched Sigujian's ashes scattered on the main entrance of the temple and on the stone platform. For some reason, he became excited. He didn't know where the last trace of fear and nervousness in his heart had gone.

Fan Xian suddenly laughed and said, "If your master knew that his bones could smash the gate of the temple once, I'm afraid his soul would fly around happily..."

These two young people knew Sigu Jian's intentions very well, so they smashed the urn on the temple gate, and they knew that it must be in line with the idea of ​​the great master who stabbed the sky and the cave.

Wang Shisanlang finally laughed out loud.

The only thing to consider at this time is that since the door of the temple has been smashed, the temple always needs to react. Wang Shisanlang took the wooden stick from Fan Xian's hand, sank his waist slightly, stared at the door of the temple, and began to prepare for a fight against the tiger.

Fan Xian raised his right hand, stopped his outfit, and quietly waited for the temple to react. He had already gotten rid of anything related to fear and gains and losses. Haitang and Wang Shisanlang thought that he was taking a risk to go to the temple again, but he didn't think so. Because he missed the temple once and almost died, but he didn't think he would miss it this time. After all, in the temple today, there is only the action power of Uncle Wuzhu. As long as he can awaken Wuzhu, the temple... what is it?

The temple reacted quickly. The heavy door opened just a little, and a strange and terrifying black light and shadow floated out from it. It was like a black lightning, and it was like a ray of night. It instantly traveled through the space and time intervals and came to Fan Xian.

The cloth clothes were wearing black belts, holding an iron chisel in his hand. A chisel pierced out, whistling and cracking the air, and no one could stop such a terrible move.

Fan Xian cannot, Wang Shisanlang cannot. Even if Sigujian is alive, it cannot be, let alone the Sigujian between the three people at this time, they were just a few pieces of broken bones and a broken ground.

However, the iron rod that was not in the slightest emotion, but was just a cold iron rod that was about to stab Fan Xian's body, and it ended abruptly!

What a terrible strength that he had returned from such a fast speed to absolute peace. Fan Xian quietly looked at the familiar relative in front of him, the strange peerless strong man. The temple envoy guarded, and said, "Are you very curious?"

I don’t know if it was because Wu Zhu recognized that the mortal in front of him was the target of the temple that day, or because Fan Xian said such a strange thing, but in short, Wu Zhu’s subway drill did not pierce out, but just stayed in front of Fan Xian’s throat.

The tip of the iron chisel is not very sharp, nor is it filled with any trembling and powerful true energy. It just maintains a distance from Fan Xian's throat cartilage as if it had not touched the ground. Just a person holding the iron chisel has a trembling finger. Fan Xian's throat will break and die.

Wang Shisanlang watched this scene nervously, and he finally believed Fan Xian's words. In front of this strange master of civil war, no one could help Fan Xian. After all, he was the only one who could help Fan Xian.

Fan Xian was like he couldn't see the iron rod under his jaw. He just looked at Uncle Wu Zhu who was close to him, smiled gently and said softly: "I know you're very curious."

"You are very curious, why did you know that I was not dead that day, but you would rather go against your instinct to obey the old man in the temple and release me out of the temple." Fan Xiandi's eyes were slightly lowered, and his eyes were gentle.

"You are curious about who I am, why you clearly don't have my existence in your memory, but when you look at me, you feel very familiar and close." Fan Xian's eyes were clear and clear.

But Fan Xian felt tired. Especially Uncle Wu Zhu sat indifferently but never spoke. Perhaps the heart in this cold body felt a little warm, but it never became hot. This fact made Fan Xian feel tired. He didn't know if he could awaken this dearest relative.

He was the best at fighting in his life. The two most outstanding battles were naturally against Haitang and Emperor Laozi. Haitang was eventually defeated by Emperor Qing. However, the powerful Emperor Ruoqing was also surrounded by Fan Xian's intentions. Even if the father and son turned against each other, it made His Majesty the Emperor's heart scars everywhere, and he wanted to break and rest.

This time I went to the temple again and tried to awaken Uncle Wu Zhu, which was undoubtedly the most authentic and sincere battle, but it was also the most difficult battle in Fan Xian's life, because Uncle Wu Zhu is not a mortal, from his body to his thinking, he is a legend, he is cold, he is a program, the most important thing is that he forgot everything, forgetting himself and his mother...

Wu Zhu fell into an eternal silence, which brought unpredictable difficulties to Fan Xian's attempt. Without dialogue, how can you know the changes in the other party's thinking, how can you take the opportunity to enter and point directly into your heart? Look at the other party's expression and observe your face? But what expressions did Uncle Wu Zhu have in his life?

"You have been washed away." After a long silence, Fan Xian sighed with great sadness, "You are still a legendary figure in the temple. You are obviously higher than the old man in the temple, why are you still washed away?"

In Fan Xian's opinion, Wu Zhu Uncle, who has feelings, self-thinking and self-consciousness, was originally a living person. Naturally, he was more advanced than the old man in the temple who controlled everything, but he still knew that he was much more advanced than the four laws of dog shit. It seems that the temple has a control method for the messengers who have gone out from now on that no one knows, otherwise Wu Zhu would not become an unmannerable machine.

Although Wuzhu was not very humane back then.

"My name is Fan Xian. I said that day. Although you forgot, I want to tell you a story. This story is related to you and me. I hope you can remember something. Of course, even if you remember it, you may not be able to break the shackle in your heart, but we must try it."

"At least you don't want to kill me. This is probably something in your instinct, it's good, right?" Fan Xian looked at the cold Uncle Wuzhu's face along the straight iron chisel. He wanted to smile, but almost cried. He took a deep breath, calmed down his inner emotions, and then began to say: "A long time ago, there was a pretty little girl living with you in this temple. Do you still remember?"

The iron spindle tip in Wuzhu's hand, which was still moving, went in and out with Fan Xian's deep breathing, was extremely wonderful. However, it was still attached to Fan Xian's throat, just like Fan Xian's throat trembling when he was talking, and it also accompanied the iron spindle displacement. However, this movement was extremely small, even so small that the naked eye could not see clearly.

Fan Xian ignored how much Uncle Wu Zhu still remembered and continued to tell the story about Wu Zhu calmly and sincerely. The little girl who took him to escape from the temple, they went to Dongyi City together. She saw an idiot, did some things, and then went to Danzhou, and saw a group of idiots and a eunuch idiot, and then what happened...

The snow in the sky slowly drifted, bringing an indescribable sacred and tragic feeling to the surroundings of the temple. The old man in the temple might be constantly urging Wuzhu to act in a silent way. Fan Xian sometimes coughed, sometimes silent, and his extremely hoarse and tired voice seemed like a completely opposite command, allowing Wuzhu to maintain his current posture and sit motionlessly at the door of the temple.

Gradually, the snow covered the two people's bodies. Wuzhu was obviously closer to the eaves of the temple, but there was more snow on his body, perhaps because his body temperature was relatively low.

The weather was getting colder and colder. The snow on Fan Xian's body melted and flowed down his fur coat. The coldness penetrated into his body, making his cough more frequently. However, his words did not stop at all, and he continued to tell the past, everything about the past of Wuzhudi.

"The pictures on that carriage always seem to be rewinding..." Fan Xian coughed twice, wiped the snot that had turned into ice chips with the corner of his sleeve. Although he was embarrassed, the light in his eyes did not weaken at all. He knew that this battle of mind was to fight against the temple's control of Wu Zhu Uncle, and he had no room for relaxation.

"You opened a grocery store in Danzhou, but the business is not very good. You often close the door and your face is always cold. Of course, no one is willing to take care of your business."

Fan Xian smiled a little bitterly. He continued in a hoarse voice: "Of course, I am willing to take care of your business. Although I was still young at that time, you often prepare some good wine for me to drink."

As he was talking, Fan Xian himself seemed to have returned to his childhood after his rebirth. Although the life in Danzhou at that time seemed a bit boring, grandma was strict and kind to him and refused to relax her homework. Moreover, the people in Danzhou did not give him the opportunity to kill all directions. They just tried their best to practice the domineering skills, followed Mr. Fei to dig up corpses everywhere, and tried hard to recite the Office of the Supervisory Office's Office's regulations and implementation rules, and also prevent being assassinated...

However, that was the happiest day in Fan Xian’s two lives, not only because of the refreshing sea breeze in Danzhou, but also because of the beautiful camellia all over the mountains, nor because of the gentleness of Dong'er's sister and the charming and lovely four maids. The biggest reason is because of the cold blind young servant in the grocery store, the education of the yellow flowers on the cliff and the sticks.

Fan Xian was a little dazzled while talking. When he thought that when he was a child, he went to the grocery store to steal wine, Uncle Wuzhu would always cut shredded radish to serve himself, but he didn't care how old he was, and a hint of warmth appeared on the corners of his lips.

Just like a magic trick, Fan Xian took out a radish from his bloated fur coat, took out a kitchen knife, and began to cut radish on the bluestone floor at the entrance of the temple. The bluestone floor in front of the temple has experienced thousands of years of wind, frost, ice and snow, but it is still so smooth. It is used as a cutting board. Although it is a bit stiff, it is also a unique crunch.

It was like flying under the knife, and in just a moment, a frozen crunchy radish was cut into radish shreds of extremely uniform thickness, and was flushed on the bluestone ground.

When cutting shredded radish, Fan Xian didn't say anything, but Wu Zhu turned her head and looked at the knife and the radish in Fan Xian's hand calmly through the black cloth, as if she didn't understand what was happening in front of her.

Cutting shredded radish at the entrance of the temple, if Fan Xian could survive, it would be the most arrogant thing he had done in his life. He was more arrogant than jumping down from the imperial city and killing Qin Ye, and more arrogant than slapping the old lady into the palace and slapping the old lady, and even more arrogant than entering the palace to assassinate the emperor with a single sword!

However, Wu Zhu still seemed to remember nothing, but was curious about Fan Xian's boring behavior. Fan Xian lowered his head, sighed, threw the kitchen knife aside, pointed at the shredded radish in front of him, and said in a calm tone: "You always thought my shredded radish was not cut well back then. Look how do I cut it now?"

Wu Zhu returned to his head and still said coldly without saying a word. Fan Xian felt a deep chill in his heart. He suddenly felt that he was doing useless work and no matter what he did, it would be impossible to awaken Uncle Wu Zhu. Uncle Wu Zhu is dead and can never survive again?

The world was cold and the temple was cold, but Fan Xian seemed to feel that he was trembling all over his body until now.

He suddenly gritted his teeth hard, and a blood smudged from his lips, staring at Wuzhu tightly. He stared at Wuzhu angrily. After a long time, his emotions calmed down and he roared gloomy: "I don't believe in this evil! Don't pretend for me! I know you remember!"

"I know you remember!" Fan Xian's voice was extremely hoarse, and he kept talking, hurting his vocal cords. "I don't believe you will forget the years I have been with the cliff. I don't believe you will forget that night. When you talk about the box, when you say mom, you laughed, have you forgotten?"

"Where is that rainy night? You tricked Hong Siyang out of the palace and later bragged to me. You could kill him... We stole the keys and opened the box, and you laughed again."

Fan Xian coughed violently and cursed: "You can obviously laugh. Why are you pretending to be dead here?"

Wuzhu was still motionless, and the iron rod in his hand was still motionless, piercing Fan Xian's throat. The snow was still coldly down. There was no sound in front of the temple except Fan Xian's voice. Gradually, the sky was dimming, maybe it was already night, or maybe it was just the clouds getting thicker. But the snow above Fan Xian's head stopped.
To be continued...