The Path Toward Heaven Chapter 3: The boy in white who stepped into the river again

　　 Zhao Layue carried Yin San's body and walked out of the town, stepping on the green grass, very briskly.

　　 The bright light from the sky cast a very long shadow of her petite body on the ground, and then gradually faded by the brighter light.

　　 The most important thing in the entire continent was happening, but she didn't look back, just watching the shadow changes in front of her, it seemed that this was even more interesting than the vision of heaven and earth.

　　 No one noticed her, and naturally no one saw her expression finally changed.

　　 The corners of her lips raised slightly and she was smiling.

　　 Gradually there was cheering among the peaks.

　　 There seems to be cheers in the town.

　　 As the sky and the earth became brighter and the cheers became louder and louder, her smile became more and more prosperous, until the shallow dimples on her cheeks appeared, a little cute.

　　 She is really happy, and she has some regrets.

　　 It would be great if he could be in the same era as a genius like Shi Shuzu.

　　 Whether you are studying or asking, or whatever.

　　 The cheers among the peaks suddenly disappeared.

　　 There is no accident.

　　 The silence at this time represents good wishes.

　　 is like a light illuminating the world.

　　 Of course, after all, it will still be a little sad.

　　Master Jingyang's uncle has ascended.

　　 Zhao Layue finally turned around and looked at the sky.

　　 Looking at the fading gap and the sword light that was almost invisible, for some reason, his eyebrows were raised slightly.

　　 She looked at the corpse she was holding in her hand, her smile gradually disappeared, with some doubts and uncertainty.

　　……

　　……

　　 There is incomplete moisture in the clouds and mist, and streams are often accompanied by it.

　　 There is a stream not far from Yunji Town. The stream flows around the high cliffs and low hills with mist, travels for dozens of miles, and re-enters the wall of another mountain.

I don’t know how far the 　　 stream entered the mountain wall. The waterway became wider and the light gradually brightened. There was a stone chamber on the wall with rare jade in the world.

　　 The stone room is very simple. There is only a stone bed connected to the mountain wall. There are two rotten futons in front of the bed.

　　 A young man, with his hands on his back, turned his head to look at the stone bed, occasionally the wind blew up, and his white clothes were lifted up.

　　 There is a man lying on a stone bed, covered in blood, wounds everywhere, narrow or wide, deep or shallow, it is impossible to tell what kind of weapon was injured, the clothes are in tatters, and where can I recognize it? The belt woven by the silkworm silk is still intact, and there is a very weak suffocation that sometimes appears. It was actually made by Mingjiao Jin, with a waistband tied on it, but it seems to be carved from ordinary black wood.

　　 There is no such breath, and he has already died. The strange thing is that there is always a layer of mist on his face, which is so deep that he can't see his face clearly.

　　The boy stood in front of the stone bed, watching the man silently, not knowing what he was thinking.

　　 I don’t know how long it took before he finally spoke.

　　"Really...annoying."

　　His voice is very clean, but a bit astringent, his speech rate is very slow, and he seems to speak very little.

　　The light fell in his eyes.

　　 His eyes are like a sea, seemingly calm and clear, but extremely deep and wide, hiding countless storms and waves.

　　 There are puzzles, anger, regrets, fatigue, and some vicissitudes that are completely out of age.

　　 After a while, all the emotions in his eyes disappeared, leaving nothing but peace.

　　 is like clouds and mist disappearing between nine peaks, and it is like those light pulp falling from the sky finally turning into nothingness.

　　 "Some envy you, I can take a good rest, but I have to be busy for many years."

　　 The boy in white said to the dead on the stone bed.

　　 The belt of the deceased moved slightly, and the wooden sign suddenly disappeared.

　　 A cold light left the stone bed and flew around his body, shining the brilliance of the stone chamber without stopping, and stopped in front of his eyes after a while.

　　 It was a flying sword, about two feet long, with **** thick and thin. The blade was as smooth as a mirror. There was nothing strange about it, but it gave people a very unusual feeling.

　　 The white-clothed boy raised his right hand, and the flying sword fell on its own. With a soft snap, it rolled on his wrist and gradually darkened, like an ordinary bracelet.

　　 turned around and walked to the stream, the young man in white suddenly remembered what the man said to him back then.

　　——It is impossible for a person to step into the same river twice.

　　 is that true?

　　 Thinking about this, he walked into the stream.

　　……

　　……

The 　　 stream runs through the mountainside for an unknown number of miles, and passes through the other side of the mountain, forming a thin waterfall more than ten feet high, which is very beautiful.

　　 The boy in white fell from the cliff wall along the stream, ready to step on the water, but his feet had already broken through the water and fell into the lake.

　　 It wasn't until he drifted to the depths of the lake and his feet touched the bottom of the lake that he probably understood what was going on, and he was a little surprised.

　　 But he didn't seem to know what kind of expression he should use to describe the emotion of being astonished, so he looked a little dazed.

　　 The slightly cold lake water had no effect on him. He opened his eyes and looked around and saw a stone on the bottom of the lake.

　　He picked up the rock from the bottom of the lake and walked forward along the way~IndoMTL.com~ getting closer and closer to the surface of the water, until he walked out of the lake and came to the shore.

　　 There was a muffled sound, the ground shook, and the water on the shore was slightly turbulent. It was the stone he put down in his arms. You can imagine how heavy the stone is.

　　 He was drenched and felt a little uncomfortable. Dongnian was about to dry his body with sword fire, but found that nothing appeared.

　　's dripping hair and wet clothes clinging to his body reminded him that a fire should be started at this time, and he then thought that he had never made a fire.

　　 He tilted his head, recalled the books he had read many years ago, retelling in a dry voice: "We need hay and branches of varying thickness."

　　 confirmed that all the water in the left ear has flowed out, he tilted his head to the right, continued to search for those long-lasting memories, and said: "If there is no flint, you need crystal or drill wood."

　　 There is a forest on the shore. He walked into the forest, stretched out his hand to caress it, and rustled down, and soon piled into a small hill.

　　 He picked the smoothest piece of wood from the inside, and put a few silk under the bark on it. His mind moved slightly, and the silver bracelet on his wrist became the small sword again, hovering on it.

　　The sharp blade of the blade touched the wood chip through the silk, spinning at an unimaginable speed, and soon there was sparks, then blue smoke, and then flames.

　　The clothes were placed on the branches and steamed.

　　 Looking at the intensity of the steam and the speed of the rise, the boy easily calculated that it would take another three quarters before the clothes were completely dry.

　　 What to do during this period of time is something he doesn’t need to think about.

　　 has only one purpose for him all the time.

　　 He sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes and began to meditate and practice, which looked very natural.

　　 But the next moment he opened his eyes and wondered blankly, what is the entry formula?