Suo Jinling

The tip of the sword was stained with blood, and the sound of the killing wind was like a waterfall, flowing down the side cheek, soaking one side of the ground.

Lan Jingming was almost stepped on the ground, half of his face was unconscious, bloodshot from the corners of his lips, the white snow around his ears was soaked in a fishy smell, and melted into a puddle with his black hair, dripping into the snow waves.

The tip of the sword was pulled out from the soil, and stuck to Lan Jingming's throat, the cold blade edged half an inch inward, cutting a line of blood: "Hand over the antidote, and I will spare your life."

"Cough, cough, cough, Mr. is really...revenge for your kindness," Lan Jingming coughed violently, raised his arm, clamped the tip of the sword with two fingers, and slightly raised the corners of his lips, "Don't believe me... ... just kill me."

Live enough left and right.

This kind of injury is nothing to him. Randur beat him to pieces every time, and he has been trained into a copper-skinned iron bone. I shouldn't care about ordinary pain, but for some reason, the master's palm and kick are full of power , piercing through the lungs and attacking the sternum, his defenses were useless, there seemed to be a soft door made of cotton balls in his chest, allowing this man to drive straight in, forcefully kicking the bleeding hole.

Shuo Shuo's cold wind passed through the cave, and the sourness overflowed, making the corners of the eyes red.

He Zhongyin frowned.

The son of Prince Ning's mansion is dying, so he was asked to go over to get his pulse. Only after the silver needle was tested did he find out that the poison had entered his lungs. It turned out that the son's concubine had ulterior motives and mixed colorless and tasteless poison into the tonic. , Mr. Ning was exhausted at first, and then he vomited black blood and fell into a coma. If he hadn't gone to the doctor for treatment, Immortal Da Luo would have been hard to save.

The concubine hanged herself when the incident was revealed. She had no possessions, and it is unknown where the poison came from. He Zhongyin had no energy to investigate, so he had to go back first. When he entered the city, he found that the city gate was tight. People come and go with heavy guards, and only after listening to other people's comments, they know that the epidemic has just started, and outsiders are not allowed to enter or leave. Seeing that the first day is approaching, the people are excited and rush to the door one after another, insisting on reuniting with their families. Yin did not go in through the main entrance, but turned in through the side door, went to the pharmacy first, and found that there was no one there, he hurried back to his courtyard, just when he saw Xiuzhu vomit black blood.

The young man under his feet is really suspicious. Why did he gain Ah Jing’s trust and insisted on bringing him into the mansion; It's really strange. In the past few years of wars, carrion was everywhere and there was no disease. How could it appear at this moment...

There was a bang in the bedroom, as if something fell out of the bed, the wooden door creaked, He Xiuzhu staggered out with disheveled hair, and almost fell to the ground: "Father, you misunderstood, the girl is my savior, Put your sword down!"

He Zhongyin was unmoved, the tip of the sword moved downwards, the blood flow became even more turbulent.

Lan Jingming didn't struggle, his arms fell by his sides, he tilted his head back slightly, his slender neck protruded back, his pale blue blood floated up, and against the thin red at the end of his eyes, he showed a touch of coquettishness.

The snow fell silently, and the dense long eyelashes were soaked by the snow water, and slid down the corners of the eyes, dripping like blood and tears.

He Zhongyin's fingertips trembled slightly, his eyes were in a daze for a moment, and he could hardly hold the sword steadily.

that kid.

The... child who fell into the valley.

He was covered in blood, and he was running in the valley with his infant child in his arms. There was a gust of wind behind him, and arrows brushed against his cheek and neck one after another. The blood dripped from his fingers and splashed on the child's face. He hurriedly raised his hand to wipe it off. His fingers were swollen and weak, and the blood stains became more and more rubbed. The child's eyes hurt and he burst into tears. The clusters of blood were like tears, and the shadow was like The nightmare covered the boy's face, distorted and lumped together.

He Xiuzhu couldn't persuade him, his mind went blank anxiously, he raised his arms and closed his palms, and twisted the blade: "Father!"

The palm was cut, He Zhongyin's expression was shocked, and he roared angrily: "Let go!"

He Xiuzhu was seldom yelled at, so he trembled in shock, the sharp blade that cut iron like mud was lifted up and fell to the ground casually.

"get out."

He Zhongyin bent over, held He Xiuzhu by the collar, and carried him into the room. The wooden door slammed shut hard.