Chapter 42 Liu Baiyi

For no reason, Han Feng felt excited and suddenly contracted. Halfway up from the Chunyang wine he had just drunk, he opened his drunken eyes and only saw a white shadow flashing in.

Although he woke up half of the wine, he drank too much, and the strong spring wine quickly brought him into a light red drunkenness.

"Half a catty of steamed bread, a bowl of white water." A faint voice sounded, although small but clearly came to the ears of the busy boss. The boss looked at the young man in white in disbelief.

The young man's silk-like white clothes are better than the purest white snow, and his clothes are floating in the cool breeze of the morning. A thick black hair simply coiled into a round and high bun above his head. A handsome face is full of arrogance, and the black pupils are like a deep pool, which is the best among men. The strangest thing is that a huge sword is obliquely behind the handsome man. The sword is five feet long until the legs are bent, and seven inches wide, more than twice as wide as the ordinary sword style. It is inserted in the dark scabbard, which is very eye-catching.

At this moment, there are not many people in this humble tavern. Except for Han Feng, who is about to get drunk, there are only three or two early guests. The man in white came in without any sound, as if he had been standing there for a long time.

"Half a catty of steamed bread, a bowl of white water." With a dry sentence, the young man in white repeated it again, and the pride on his face was as if he didn't want a steamed bun but an abalone bear's paw. Then he stopped talking, and the curvature of his lips bent up, like a hundred-step hard bow through Yang.

"Okay, okay, half a catty of steamed bread, a bowl of white water." The owner of the small hotel hurriedly agreed, and years of experience made him see that young people were not ordinary people.

After a while, a bowl of clear white water and a steaming plate of steamed buns were placed in front of the man in white. The man in white picked up the steamed bread and ate it slowly, just like enjoying the most delicious mountain and sea delicacies in the world. When he was young, the steamed buns were finished and the white water was dry. The man in white wants another bowl of white water. He took out a purple animal skin from nowhere, turned around and took off the huge black sword on his body, and wiped it seriously. He began to wipe from the handle of the black sword and wiped it all the way to the tip of the sword, and the slightly wet skin stuck to every trace of dust that fell on the sword. The man in white wiped it very carefully, and his slender fingers moved gently, as if he were gently touching his lover's fair skin. The black scabbard was already spotless, but the man in white still rubbed it carefully. His eyes stared at the wide black scabbard made of unknown materials, as if nothing in the world could attract his attention...

"Good sword!" A drunken and hazy voice suddenly sounded. The man in white did not look up, and even wiped. A faint voice floated out: "It's a good sword." There is no modesty, as if this is a matter of course. It's just a little... um... it tastes heavy." The man in white raised his head and looked at the speaker faintly. Han Feng was lying on the table, holding the light red spring wine in his hand, stammering. The divine light flashed in those beautiful eyes, which made people feel full of swordsmanship. I'm afraid you smell worse than my sword. There was no murder in the words, but Han Feng felt that his wine had woken up again.

"Why don't you come and have a drink?" Han Feng suddenly had a strange feeling that this handsome young man must look good drinking.

"I don't know you." The man in white lowered his head to wipe his sword.

"Eh, why do you have to meet each other? If you are predestined to meet, you are friends..." Han Feng relied on a little wine and launched a warm invitation.

The man in white looked at him strangely and didn't say anything, but he didn't move. Maybe he wonders how there can be such a thick-skinned person in the world.

......

"Liu Baiyi!" A thunderbolt sounded in the small restaurant, like a thunder rolling in, shaking the dust on the roof of the small restaurant, and Han Feng's wine actually woke up three points.

The man in white is still sitting there, and his straight body is like the sunlight shining from the skylight.

"Ten miles away, Falling Soul Ridge." The rolling thunder was still turbulent, and the morning birds fluttered everywhere.

"The people who drove the dead came." The man in white slowly put away the animal skin, carefully tied the huge black sword behind him, then got up and walked, disappearing behind the board door of the tavern. The boss was about to open his mouth and shout, but suddenly opened his mouth wide and couldn't close it. Because he saw an ingot of white silver lying quietly on the table in front of him. That silver is enough to buy 500 catties of steamed bread with countless white water.

......

The Falling Soul Ridge is a low but very steep cliff on the edge of the Shang River. Many people who can't imagine choose to jump off the cliff here. Over time, there is a name here - Falling Soul Ridge. This place has become a legendary holy place for suicide.

But at this moment, two people on the Fallen Mountains are facing each other. Strange rocks stand around the Falling Soul Ridge, but there is a flat ground with a radius of dozens of feet in the middle, which seems to be a good place for natural people to fight.

A person's white clothes floated, and his face is as plain as autumn water, but there is a hidden pride in the depths of his eyes. He does have proud capital - he is less than 20 years old, but he is already the world's top swordsman. No one knows where he comes from. Liu Baiyi is like a meteor that cuts through the night, illuminating the martial arts of the whole Xuanhuang Dynasty since its birth. He carried a huge black sword and white clothes on his shoulder and walked around the world to challenge those peerless masters.

Countless people fell under his huge black sword. Of course, it is a black scabbard. Some people say that when the sword is pulled out, there is like a sun in the sky, and some people say that the sword is like the hand of the devil... Of course, the legend is just a legend. No one has really seen the sword, because all those who have seen his sword may have died. Behind each name is a legend, but now these legends have become the footnote of the three words Liu Baiyi.

If you find a name that can be equal to Liu Baiyi, then this name must be Black Brother. Why? There is no reason, just because this name is called Black Brother. A name that rises from the grassroots and represents hard work, blood and arrogance.

At this moment, the owner of that name is standing opposite Liu Baiyi, a man like a mountain. It's not like a mountain, but a real hill. The man's great height is two feet away. If Han Feng saw it, he would scream in surprise, and the man's burly was not under the slaughter of Jinlong. A tiger pit-made animal coat wrapped around the strong body, and only one muscular arm was exposed. A pair of eagle eyes shining with evil light indulged the wild domineering spirit around. The afterglow of the sunset is shining on his dark skin, just like a demon god.

"You shouldn't have killed the blue-faced lion. He has no grudge against you." Brother Hei's voice echoed on the Falling Soul Ridge. Even if his tone was very flat, it was like thunder, full of domineering.

Liu Baiyi looked down and looked at his sword attentively. At this moment, the huge black sword had been removed by him and placed in his right hand.

Brother Hei continued: "Although he is not my brother, although he is full of evil, in my eyes, he is a benefactor." A few words outline a character that does not ask about right or wrong, but only favors and hatred. It turned out that when Black Brother first made his debut, he was blinded by people, and the black-faced lion gave him 200 taels of silver by chance. Maybe he had already forgotten, but Brother Hei firmly remembered the villain who gave him 200 taels of silver and helped him through the crisis many times after many years. The blue-faced mad lion is more arrogant to act with the help of a black brother. Unfortunately, he met Liu Baiyi, so there was no evil man like a blue-faced lion in the world.

"I know that he deserves to die, but whoever kills him, I will kill no matter who you are, even Liu Baiyi, the famous god of white clothes."

"Why don't you talk?"

"I only talk to my sword." Liu Baiyi's ancient well was unwave, and his faint words were like a mountain wind. His eyes never left his sword, and his eyes were covered in a mess by the wind's hair.

"Draw the sword!" The two simple words came from the mouth of the crazy black brother and projected into the distance. After meeting the blue stone rock wall, they reflected back and kept echoing.

"He will wait for you."

"Haha, it's really crazy. Unfortunately, what you met today is my madness. This is my weapon. I won't take advantage of you. If you don't draw your sword..." Brother Black raised his two huge fists like Qingyan in laughter, shining with metal color under the red afterglow.

"He's here." Liu Baiyi was still unmoved, and the two stiff words showed incomparable self-confidence.