After wearing a book, he had sex with Meiqiang, the miserable male second

Jiang Yan saw a boy of seven or eight years old, dressed in shabby clothes, beside him was a gentle and charming woman.

The woman coughed from time to time, her face was sickly, and she was sewing clothes.

The material of the clothes is good at first glance, smooth to the touch, and the cuffs and hem are embroidered with gold thread.

While sewing, the woman said to the boy, "Did Che'er go to school with her friends today?"

The boy is very good-looking, with a delicate face, but his eyebrows are quite cold: "No one likes me, I went to practice swords."

The woman sighed, looking at the figure of the boy dancing the sword, there was some sadness in her eyes.

This was the first scene that Jiang Yan saw in the depths of Han Tianche's memory, and then the scene rotated and changed to another scene.

The boy grew up a bit, about ten years old. He returned to his thatched hut with a sword on his back, only to see a 50-[-]-year-old man with a wretched face, a fat figure, and luxurious clothes. Pressed under her body, frantically tearing at her clothes.

"Get out...cough cough...get out!"

The woman struggled while coughing, but a thin woman couldn't match the strength of a grown man. She was slapped hard, and the woman turned her head away from the slap, and spit out a mouthful of blood. Fingerprints are clearly visible.

Intense blood color instantly filled Han Tianche's eyes, thick as if he was about to bleed, black evil spirit seeped out from his body, hovering over every inch of his skin, surging around his body like vines.

"...Cheer, Cheer, don't look at it!"

The woman looked over the man's fat shoulders and saw her son coming back. Her body froze and she began to struggle crazily, not wanting her son to see her embarrassed side. Her violent movements startled the panting man who was pressing on her.

The man turned his head, and what he saw were the blood-colored eyes and the black sword's edge, he cried out in surprise and rolled sideways, the point of the sword that had been inserted into his chest pierced his arm, causing him to let out a scream , and ran towards the door with arms folded.

"Ah, monsters, there are monsters—help——"

The middle-aged man was scared out of his wits by the boy's blood-oozing red eyes. His fat body kept shaking as he ran, but his pampered body couldn't keep up with the light steps behind him, and a sword pierced his waist and abdomen from behind!

The black tip of the sword pierced out from the abdomen with fresh blood, and the warm blood dripped down the edge of the sword, falling on the ground into a dark red puddle.

The middle-aged man looked in disbelief at the black sword tip protruding from his abdomen. The sharp pain spread to his whole body like a spider web. When he couldn't bear the pain, the long sword suddenly pulled out, and then continued to penetrate along the flesh. !

"Ahhh-"

Heart-piercing screams spread throughout the village, enough to pierce everyone's eardrums. The villagers came out to watch one after another, but they saw a terrifying scene that made them unforgettable.

The boy with a delicate face was expressionless, holding a black long sword in his forehand, stabbing into the middle-aged man's body non-stop, pulling out and stabbing in again, the man had already fallen to the ground and died, his eyes were wide open, dark red The blood flowed all over the place.

The boy's whole body was covered with spattered blood, his eyes were bright red like blood, evil and cruel, black mist surrounded his body, flowing like a living thing, almost like a ghost!

"Ah, ah, monster——"

"Yes, there are monsters!"

"Get the monster out of the village—"

The villagers screamed and fled in panic, while the bold men gathered together, holding torches and stones, and surrounded him from a distance.

The woman tidied up her clothes and ran out staggeringly. What she saw was blood all over the ground and the fearful or hateful gazes of the villagers.

"Che'er, ahem, let's go."

The woman held her son's hands that were still stabbing with the sword, squatted down, rolled up her sleeves and gently wiped his blood-stained face, and said softly: "Che'er, don't be angry, mother is fine, let's get out of here OK."

"Ah."

Han Tianche lowered his eyes and glanced at the dead middle-aged man, the redness in his eyes slowly faded, and the original black eyes returned.

When the villagers saw that the 'little monster' had become less scary, they were so terrified that they threw stones at the boy!

Seeing this, the woman immediately protected him in her arms, and the cold and hard stone hit the woman's body and forehead, and the cut forehead immediately shed strands of blood.

Han Tianche smelled the smell of blood, and his eyes began to turn red again. The woman immediately covered his eyes, wrapped him in a cloak, endured the pain all over her body, and protected him step by step under the disgusted eyes of all the villagers. left the village.

Memories floated before Jiang Yan's eyes like the wind, and a few more months passed.

Han Tianche knelt beside the wooden bed, handing over the broken porcelain bowl filled with medicinal juice with his hands full of scars.The woman half leaning on the bed has long lost her former beauty, her face is pale and haggard, and she is already terminally ill.

She coughed softly, and immediately there was a pool of bright red blood on the white silk cloth, which was dazzling and cold.

The woman looked down at the porcelain bowl handed to her mouth, looked at Han Tianche with a hint of expectation in her eyes, opened her mouth slightly to drink the soup, and then coughed heavily.

She stretched out her thin hand and stroked Fuhan Tianche's hair at the side of her temples, and said softly: "Che'er, mother... I'm leaving soon, you have to take care of... yourself.

Promise mother, when things happen...don't...be impulsive, so...you won't be noticed by your red eyes. "

Seeing that Han Tianche's pupils were turning red again, the woman raised her hand to wipe away the moisture from the corners of his eyes, and said with a smile: "Mother, the happiest thing in my life... is having you, and I never... regret meeting you." your father."

The woman seemed to be caught in some kind of memory, with a sweet smile overflowing from the corner of her mouth, with a kind of radiant beauty, and her voice was no longer intermittent, she said to Han Tianche with red eyes: "Mother will meet your father soon, after We will be together forever, and Cheer will find the person you like in the future."

Seeing Han Tianche's inset ǘǖ eyes, red eyes like blood, and deep eyes, the woman straightened up with difficulty: "The sword on your back is a token of love given to me by your father, it is called afterglow. .

This sword was forged with his blood, and now it is connected with your blood, and no one can take it away.

But you also have to be careful of those who have bad intentions, don't be deceived by them. "

The woman sighed softly, and caressed Han Tianche's face with some reluctance, tears streaming down: Her Che'er is still young, how could she bear to let him face this cold world alone?

If possible, she hoped that Che'er would be an ordinary person, not have such a high talent in swordsmanship, and not have red eyes that are different from ordinary people.

such a pity……

The woman's eyes gradually closed, and the hand that was caressing the face of the other party also slowly fell, and landed on the bed with a 'bang', flicked and then stopped moving.

The last scene Jiang Yan saw was the expressionless and indifferent boy kneeling on the cold ground, throwing himself on the woman and crying loudly.

Jiang Yan silently continued to search for memory fragments, and found Han Tianche a year later.

At that time, he was hiding in a dilapidated temple with thin clothes, gnawing on the cold bread with a blank expression, and it seemed that he was not living well.

A 12-year-old boy, penniless, has no means of making a living except occasionally going to the mountains to kill a couple.

In the twilight of the morning, Han Tianche opened his eyes, a hint of dark red appeared in the dark eyes under the long eyelashes, and soon disappeared.

He stood up, tidied up his thin gown, attached his long sword to his back, turned around and left the ruined temple, intending to find a place to practice his sword, and then play a few times.

At the same time, several teenagers in blue robes were holding five-element spiritual disks and went door-to-door looking for people with spiritual roots.

"After searching for a long time, there is not even a single seedling of the Four Spirit Roots, Xing Xing Huan Jiao Xin Zhi last."

"There are some poor villages around here, how can there be any good seedlings?"

"That's right, only the descendants of cultivators may have spiritual roots. How can there be monks here?"

"Why don't we go to the Tianxiang Pavilion to enjoy it, there are some beautiful women in the secular world—"

Several monks were a little moved. Worldly money is not worth mentioning among them who are cultivators. This task is so boring, why not go out and have fun.

"Then I'll wait here for a few senior brothers, and visit the surrounding area by the way."

A young man with a handsome face said with a smile that he was about fourteen or fifteen years old, his eyes were bright, and the two dimples on his cheeks were faintly visible, which made people feel good when he looked at him.

"Little Junior Brother, you are so kind, we will go back as soon as we go."

A few monks left in a hurry after throwing down a word, exchanged some money and went straight to the Tianxiang Hall.

Wen Yang continued to look for people with spiritual roots, turned around, and for some reason came to a deserted martial arts training ground, just in time to see a young man dancing a sword.

The young man was dressed in simple clothes, but his appearance was outstanding. His brows were fierce, and the black long sword looked like a dragon in his hand. It was not a beautiful trick, but a sword that was full of murderous intent. Afterimage.

After waiting for an hour, the young man wiped the sweat from his temples, his cold black eyes suddenly looked at Wen Yang who was standing in the corner, and the black long sword pointed directly at him, spreading a trace of murderous intent.

"Good swordsmanship!"

Wen Yang didn't seem to see the obvious warning in the young man's eyes, and walked forward with a smile, his eyes curved beautifully: "You are so powerful, do you want to join the Nanyang faction?"

Han Tianche glanced at him indifferently, and walked past him with a gust of wind.

Wen Yang grabbed his forearm, the tentacles are tight muscles, with the power to explode at any time, Han Tianche flipped his wrist violently, trying to counter the opponent, but Wen Yang mobilized him Hold it firmly with your hands.

"Look, this is spiritual power, it can make you stronger."

Wen Yang tapped his wrist lightly, and Han Tianche's right hand holding the sword suddenly felt an overwhelming force, and he almost couldn't hold the 'afterglow' in his hand.

"What are the conditions?"

He pursed his thin lips lightly, and his dark eyes looked straight into the depths of the other's eyes.

Wen Yang looked at Han Tianche's deep eyes, and seemed to be able to see the tiny red light hidden in the depths of the black eyes. It was secretive and dangerous, but it was particularly fascinating and made people want to take a peek.

Wen Yang was taken aback for a moment, and couldn't help admiring: "Your eyes are so beautiful!"

Han Tianche tilted his head slightly to stagger his gaze, his long eyelashes drooped, but there was a slight ripple in his heart.

Wen Yang had two shallow dimples on his cheeks, and happily took out the five-element plate from the storage bag: "Let me help you measure the root of the spirit, just put your hand on it."

Han Tianche stretched out his bruised left hand and placed it on it, and in an instant the three colors of yellow, red and brown lit up on the spiritual plate.

Wen Yang's eyes curved beautifully, and he said excitedly: "You are the three spiritual roots of gold, fire and earth, and you are very talented!"

"Junior Brother, now I would like to introduce myself to you officially. My name is Wen Yang, warm Wen, Chaoyang Yang."

"Han Tianche."

"Your name sounds nice too, which 'Torch' is it?"

"...The cold wind pierces through the bones."

"Here, this is a meeting gift from senior brother, the golden sore ointment used to heal wounds, let me apply it for you."

"...No, I'll do it myself."

The author has something to say: I'm guilty of not writing the climax.