The moonlight in the early morning is like silver, shining in the bamboo forest where the clouds are deep and unknown, mottled and scattered. Feng Qingyang stood back to back with Lin Yifeng and Hong'er, their eyes firm, facing Liu Wumei, the master of the Netherworld Sect, and his men. There was a tense smell in the air, and the bamboo leaves swayed gently in the breeze, as if they were also uneasy about the upcoming battle.
"The wind is clear, your swordsmanship is certainly excellent, but you don't want to escape tonight!" Liu Wumei's voice was cold and ruthless, and the iron fan in his hand emitted a cold light like the scythe of death.
Feng Qingyang's face remained unchanged, and the tip of his sword trembled slightly, as if he was whispering: "Life and death, Fei Er and others can decide." ”
Before the words fell, the wind cleared his body and turned into a green shadow, and the sword light crossed the night sky like a meteor, directly taking Liu Wumei. Lin Yifeng and Hong'er were not to be outdone, and faced other black-clothed people respectively.
Seeing this, Liu Wumei sneered, and the iron fan was unfurled, meeting the sword light of the clear wind. The moment the two fought, the sword fans collided, making a series of crisp crashing sounds. The swordsmanship of the wind is agile and elegant, and each sword contains a deep internal force, and Liu Wumei's iron fan kung fu is also ruthless and abnormal, with a fierce murderous aura with every swing.
Although Lin Yifeng and Hong'er's martial arts are not as good as Feng Qingyang, they cooperate tacitly, Lin Yifeng's soft sword is smart, and Hong'er's body is weird, and they even resisted the attack of the Netherworld Sect master for a while.
The battle has intensified, and the battle between Feng Qingyang and Liu Wumei has reached a fever pitch. A hint of determination flashed in Feng Qingyang's eyes, he knew that if he didn't defeat Liu Wumei today, it would be a big disaster in the future. So, he began to perform his mastery - "Qingfeng Thirteen Styles".
The shadow of the sword is like the wind, the sword aura is like a wave, and every sword in the clear wind seems to be able to tear the night sky, and even the air is slashed into a sharp whistling. In the face of such an offensive, Liu Wumei began to feel the pressure doubled, and his iron fan was no longer so calm, and flaws began to appear.
Finally, under the blow of the thirteenth type "Wind and Clouds", Liu Wumei's iron fan was shocked by the sword qi, and he himself was also pressed against the tip of the sword against his throat. The defeat was decided, Liu Wumei's face was pale, and he knew that he had met a real master.
Feng Qingyang did not kill the killer, but put his sword into the sheath, and said lightly: "Go back and tell your sect master, if you dare to attack again, I will not spare Feng Qingyang." ”
Liu Wumei picked up the iron fan and quickly disappeared into the night with the rest of his men. Feng Qingyang turned to look at Lin Yifeng and Hong'er, although they were tired, their eyes were full of excitement and excitement.
"Senior, what should we do next?" Lin Yifeng asked.
Feng Qingyang pondered for a moment, and then said: "This place is not suitable for a long time, we will set off immediately, go to the rivers and lakes to find old friends, and discuss countermeasures together." ”
The three of them packed up and set out on the road to the rivers and lakes. They know that this is just the prelude to a bigger turmoil, and the road ahead will be even more difficult, but their hearts are full of perseverance and hope.
The stars in the night sky seemed to be seeing them off, and the clouds regained their tranquility again, but under this tranquility, there was a hidden change in the future. The figures of Feng Qingyang, Lin Yifeng, and Hong'er gradually disappeared into the night, and their journey had just begun.