In the Danxin Temple, a group of monks did not know what to say. Many people bowed their heads and said nothing.

Master Xuan Jing said: "Hey... Hey, it’s all awkward."

The main wooden smoke of the Tianyin Pavilion is: "There are heads and debts. There are many things in this world. This is the cause and effect, and the interlocking." She said that here, the words turned, "but the ink burns, you Be aware that suffering is not the reason why you vent your hatred and squander your life."

"Yes."

An elder of Huohuangge also sighed and said: "Mo Xianjun, you have been wronged, but it is pitiful. But it is also because you are born bad, fate tricks. People have their own lives, you can not be because of yourself Bullying, go back and bully irrelevant people."

"You did do good deeds and you have been wronged, but as far as we know, you have also killed people... one yard is one yard, it is all clear."

The ink burned without speaking.

Jiang Yan suddenly asked: "How to count."

"This……"

"Who can be clear? Whose life is not life, who can do the most fair ruler." Jiang Yan was willful and did not regard Tianyin as a god. "I don't mean to swear, but I I just want to ask, today, we are standing here, saying that we have to pay for it with the ink, let him pay it back. Then - the humiliation that has been burned by the ink? The injustice he has suffered?"

"..." No one thought that the most lost Jiang Yan in the **** case in the past few days would actually stand up and make a fuss for the slightest rain.

The wooden cigarettes are off the road: "Ginger Palm Gate, Tianyin Pavilion has always been fair. My family has guarded the scales of the gods for generations. When the time comes, the instrument will be used to weigh the ink and son's merits and demerits, and you will be sentenced. You don't have to worry. ”

"Strange, what is his relationship with me, why should I worry?"

Jiang Yan looked at Tianyin Pavilion for a long time. He repaired the medicine. He said that as long as the medicine is good, the body of the mortal can be red and dusty. Therefore, the lonely moon night is the most unbelievable to the descendants of the gods.

He stared at a pair of apricot eyes and said coldly and coldly: "But Jiang is very curious. I dare ask the Tianyin Pavilion. After the trial is finished, do you still have to review the other people of these old things? Is it right? Looking at the ground three feet, see if Nangong Yan is still alive in the world? Is it necessary to go to Xiangtan, find the rich man who was the indecent girl of the year? The murder of the murderous man is justified, then he was detained and beaten. The clothes are not covered by the body, the grace is humiliated by the guests, and the mother is starving to death - who is going to talk about?"

The master of the mysterious mirror, Neander: "Wang Jiangmen, why did you suddenly argue for the sinner?"

"The voice can't be talked about." Jiang Yan's thin lips are open and close. "I just thought about how we treated Nangong and Ye Forgiveness when we were in Huangshan. Jiang was not very willing to see the old things repeat."

Someone said: "That is a two-code situation, it is not the same."

“What's the difference?” Jiang Yan said. “Now the Nangong is dead, and the leaves have been lingering on the lonely night. The things have become different – ​​but at the beginning, wasn't we forced them to say that the Confucianism The blood debt, want their two lives to pay for blood?"

He turned around and his brown eyes were like an eagle.

"At that time? Where is Tianyin Pavilion? Where is fairness?"

The people of Bitanzhuang had a deep grievance with the Confucianism because of the swordsmanship. Li Wu’s apprentice, Yan Ming, said: “Ginger’s head is not biased. Nangong is a descendant of the Confucianism Gate. The people of Confucianism are dead, or the old debts must be pursued. No one wants to be a big man."

Jiang Yan sneered: "Yeah, so you see, don't you understand this truth very well? No one wants to be the last person who is slapped but can't fight back."

Description: "..."

"You think so, Xu Shuanglin thinks so, and you can think about it." Jiang Yanzhen sleeved. "When things happen to others, these words are always easy to say. But unfairness and cruelty are really coming. When I get to my head, I only feel that there are so many wicked people in the world, but it is me who suffers."

Yan Mingdao said: "Listen to the meaning of Jiang Zhangmen, I think we are treating the leaves of the South Palace, too cruel and unfair, and the Bitan Zhuangjian spectrum, do you do this?"

Jiang Yandao: "Nangong Temple is no longer there. Who do you want to pursue with?"

Yan Ming suddenly angered: "Is that my master is dying?! Nangong is not there, isn't there a leaf forgetting? She is the dark city commander of the Confucianism Gate, the sword score, she does not have the slightest fall?!"

A dead silence.

Everyone knows that Jiang Yan is a cold and spleen. Yan Ming and his name are too inconsistent. Actually, they are confronted with Jiang Yan in public.

Jiang Yan stared at Yu Ming for a moment and said: "At the beginning, on the Lushan Mountain, Nangong Temple and Nangong Changying played against each other and were seriously injured.... At that time, he spoke to me in a lip language."

"...What?"

Jiang Yan closed his eyes and looked at it. As if he had flashed through the **** battle of Nangong, he was slowly speaking to himself under the sword of Nangong Changying.

"I hope to dispel the century-old treasures of the Confucianism, and the Guangji Hanshi, there is no embers."

"This..." The monks face each other and have a little face on their faces. The monks of the Wuxi Temple are even more sloppy, with their hands folded together and the Buddha’s name low.

On the surface of the Ming Dynasty, there was a burst of red for a while. Finally, he gnashed his teeth and said: "He has no bones now. The treasures of Confucianism are in the secret room. Who can play? He is not empty-mouthed and swearing."

Jiang Yandao: "Nan Gongyi did not think that he would eventually have no bones. Moreover, I would rather believe that others will die, and the words are good."

Yan Ming’s lips shook a bit and seemed to want to refute anything, but in the end did not say anything.

After a long time, he said: "This is the reason why Jiang Zhangmen is protecting the ink rain today? I want to ask for tolerance, so as not to repeat the mistakes of Nangong?"

Jiang Yandao: "Jiang has only felt that it is extremely difficult or even impossible to seek fairness and justice. When you want to blame others, you must hold yourself too high. Don't feel that you represent justice. Heaven."

After he glanced at the gods, he said: "Even if the court is judged, it may not be all right."

He said that Xue Zhengyi also spoke here.

Xue Zhengxuan looked very tired, and he didn't even know how to face the smoldering, but he sighed for a long time, still sighing and sighing: "Jiang Jiangmen said that. For so many years, the realm of the realm is turbulent, ups and downs, out of the There are few chaos, and each sect has done more or less confused things. Who can judge an absolute fairness and justice? Hey, actually..."

He sighed and glared at his eyes.

"In fact, the grasshoppers must be killing people by hand? Confucianism's price adjustment order in the past, the knife did not see the blood and killed many innocent people. Xue's size body, standing in the world for more than 40 years, no more achievements, what to do, I don’t want to be a self-cultivation, I don’t want to make a name for myself. I just want to make this troubled life less.”

He said, his eyes were a little straight.

The lord of death and death, even if he is calm, knows that the children who have been raised for many years are not relatives, and they are finally lost.

Xue Zhenggan murmured: "I just want to make fewer people suffer, and one less."

At this time, the wooden cigarettes on the side were clear and cold and cold: "Xue Palm Gate has a strong heart, but you have thought about it. If you are tolerant of sinners, you will not respect the people who are innocent and die, and do not respect the mortals who are implicated. Tianyin Pavilion is weak, there is really no way to liquidate the mistakes made by everyone, and everyone will be brought to justice, but killing chickens and monkeys - since the ink is burning, I will not rush. The knot is over. Look at the head to know."

Xue Zhengyi: "..."

After the wood smoke said this, he turned his head and looked back at the ink.

"Mo Gongzi, you have now said that your life experience has been bitter, and compassion has been almost the same. It is better to talk about something else."

The ink burned faintly at her: "What the cabinet owner wants to talk about."

"Before you said that the girl in Tofu Square was killed or humiliated, not what you did." The wooden cigarette left the road. "I believe you. But there is still someone who is dead, and you can't get away with it." ”

The ink burned closed and said: "The owner of the cabinet is really clear."

The wood smoke is cold and cold: "Then come and talk about it. In the beginning, how did you kill the ink--that is Xue Zunzhu, the real blind man."

Her voice was not lost, she was interrupted by an angry voice.

Xue Meng’s tears and hatred in his eyes, he gnawed his teeth and said: "Stop. Don't say it again!"

The wooden cigarette gave him a glance and commented: "... escape and avoid it, the so-called heavenly pride, it seems that this is not the case."

Responding to her is the Dragon City contend, just like a warning. The scimitar rubbed against the cheeks of the wood smoke, and did not enter the beam column, and the wood chips splashed.

The wood smoke did not dodge, she did not even blink the eyelids, a pair of beautiful eyes like ice and frost, looking at Xue Meng.

Xue Meng bite the back molars, and the muscles on his face trembled: "What kind of relatives, what 鸠 鸠 鹊 nest yin and yang wrong... you said enough."

He slammed back to the Dragon City and his chest was ups and downs.

He no longer goes to see the smoldering, nor does he go to see anyone. He was like a trapped beast, forced to go crazy in the original place.

"Are you finished?? Is it enough?! Is this fun, happy?"

Mrs. Wang said: "Menger..."

Xue Meng ignored the mother's whisper, his eyes were red, holding the dragon city, looking around, it seems to be self-deprecating is contemptuous: "Look at a generation of masters into a murderous demon, see the dead brothers and brothers turn their eyes, see their loved ones become enemies - Do you feel so happy?"

The voice is hoarse and dumb, and the tail sounds like a feather.

"Do you come, is it really for justice? Is it for a truth?" He paused and gnawed his teeth. "Isn't it a trouble to seek revenge?!"

Jiang Yan raised his eyes: "Xue Shaozhu, you are too rude."

Xue Meng slammed back and looked like a flame. "Will you get me to control me?"

"Menger!"

Xue Zhengyi got up and went to Xue Meng’s shoulder, but at the touch of one, he stopped. Although Xue Meng was angry and angry, but the whole person was shaking slightly.

Nearly broken.

"I don't want to hear." He said a word, the deeper the word hatred, "all falsehoods. Lies.... a group of liar!"

Xue Zhengyi was waiting to persuade him, but Xue Meng had pushed everyone away and turned to the Dan Heart Hall.

He did not go to see the smoldering from beginning to end.

In fact, who is lying, the truth, Xue Meng has been clear, but many things in the world are clear and easy to accept.

Xue Meng has been in the wind for more than 20 years. Apart from the death of Chu, he has never experienced any major disaster. It is because of this smoothness that he still feels like a child. This is not a good thing. The red heart has a heart, but there are also rashes, ignorance, impulsiveness and sharpness.

Xue Zhengyi looked at the place where he left, stayed for a long time, and slowly settled down.

He is not young anymore, and nearly half a hundred people have a few white spots. He didn't know if he could stand it. He had to sit down.

This can at least be more comfortable.

The wood smoke seemed to condense a thin layer of ice from the face. There was no temperature at all. She only talked about things, so she said: "Ink rain, that thing, are you going to say it yourself, or do I ask witnesses to come?"

The ink burns very calmly.

The death of a prisoner.

"You don't have to bother others." Ink ignited, "That, if there are related witnesses alive, I don't want to see anyone."

He slowly looked up.

The slight sunshine shone on his pale face.

"I said it myself."

The wooden cigarette lifted his hand and immediately raised the empty seat. She was seated, one handed, and the other wanted to listen to a long story: "Please."

The ink burned closed and closed his eyes. After a while, he finally opened his mouth.

"This matter was originally a businessman."

"What businessman?"

"...you should know that there is a kind of business in the realm of comprehension, called ‘packages.’

Ma Rongzhuang is most familiar with this. He said: "Right, our villa is most familiar with these people. They often walk around in various lanes and inquire about some old stories, so as to make some good. ”

Ink ignited: "Well, so the uncle inquired about the graves of the deceased brother, and found a bag to listen to Mr."

Xue Zhengyi: "..."

This matter, Xue Zhengyi, of course remembers that the smoldering was found by the clerical inquisition of the bag. At that time, the drunken jade building was in a sea of ​​fire, and it was said that only one child survived. He could even clearly remember the bag that inquired about Mr.'s excited face, and could not help but sigh - it is God bless, so that the brother's child will not die, there will be blessings.

"When the bag was inquired, Mr. took over the appointment, and after several investigations, he finally got a look. He went to the drunken building to find someone. Looking for a woman with a surname of ink."

Someone is curious: "Who is that?"

"It is the monk of Xue’s brother, who is called the ink lady. It used to be a prostitute of a big family."

Someone responded and was surprised: "Ink-woman? Is that the name of the drunken jade mother?"

"But I only listened to what she did, as if she were a bad woman."

The ink burned lightly: "She is not born to be evil. Listen to my mother said that the ink lady is quite similar to her encounter, and is also a poor person. She had a lover when she was young, and she was a poor and white one. The Scatter said that he was going to the Xiu Xiu and created a famous martial art school. The ink lady gave him all his money and jewelry, determined to help him achieve his ambitions."

Xue Zhengyi muttered: "It is my big brother..."

The ink burned continued: "When the time was gone, I swear to the ink lady, and I will wait for my own great cause. I will definitely hire the three media and take her home. In this way, he also gave the ink lady a sentence. The word - "Smoke on the river, painted in the boat, the sound of the fairy is slow, Lang Jun is not silent. ", and later became the evidence that Mr. Hearing used to identify with her."

This kind of thing for men and women is the most deplorable.

A female practitioner asked: "Is it difficult to be the foremost gate of the dead, and like Nan Gong Yan, did you abandon your wife?"

Xue Zhengxuan’s leopard was stunned and immediately shouted: “The nonsense! My brother is the kind of person! My brother, he, he has never forgotten the ink girl...”

Referring to the dead brother, this man can't help but feel sad, his eyes are reddish.

Elder elders also said next to him: "This fairy priest is cautious. The former generation was unfortunately sacrificed in a battle after the establishment of the school. It was not a deliberate remark. Before he died, he often talked with the deity. The woman always said that when the martial art was a little stable, she would pick her up immediately. He and Nan Gong Yan were not the same thing."

“It’s true.” The ink whispered, “She is still much more fortunate than my mother. Her husband has passed away, but some people still remember to take her back. Nangong is still alive, but never dares to recognize me and My mother."

"Ha! Then I can know! It turns out that for this reason, your heart is awkward, so the civet cat changed the prince, killed the ink lady, burned the drunken house, and impersonated!"

Hearing such a malicious speculation, the ink burned the "smart" monk and then said: "I never thought about making a name change."

The monk was not convinced and sneered: "What is going on? Is there anyone who forces you to be the son of this dead child?"

It is how it happened?

You can't help but think about it – in fact, there are many things in this world. At the beginning, it was totally different. Only one day, suddenly the butterfly fanned its wings, so the wind rose and the sea turned into a mulberry field.

It’s as if he didn’t think about replacing the position of Xue Zheng’s son at first, and the ink lady was not the one who was full of evil.

She also had a gentle and good-hearted lush years, and she was standing by the Xuan window, hoping that Lang Jun would return soon. She also knew that when she had a child in her abdomen, she was happy to write a letter to inform her distant lover. She also received his letter, and the father’s excitement overflowed with paper.

She has had these wonderful years.

What is a prostitute? Others sneered at her lover is a nameless pawn, laughing at her unmarried pregnancy. One day, he will honor his promise and pick her up and the children in the door. She is so convinced.

However, later, day by day, gradually, the letter changed from a letter on the third day to a letter on the seventh day, and from one day on the seventh day to one in January, and finally there was no news. The ink lady was finally disheartened. She was sexually wild. This relationship was originally taken care of by her parents. After giving birth to a child, she hesitated to take the child to go home. As a result, his father was furious and Mrs. Zhengfang was also insulted. The ink lady was angry and left. Later, several times, the big niece of the year, eventually became the treasurer of the drunken house.

Life is ups and downs, fate is like a melting pot, you go in without knowing what to do, and then come out, perhaps unrecognizable.

This is the case with ink burning, and so is the ink girl.

When Mr. Inquired about her, it was fourteen years since she was innocent and innocent.

The gentleman entrusted by Xue Zhengyi was seated, and folded a fan. He smiled and said, "What about your mother? Call her."

She is coming, she is wearing a peach flower, her arm is yellow, and she twists her waist. She carries a hookah and picks up the bead curtain. She smiles and smiles: "Hey, this son, come to listen to the little song in the morning." Do you like 琵琶 or dulcimer? My **** here, Jin Shi Si Zhu, all versatile, open the door business, slaves give you cheaper."

This is life. When the lover was gone fourteen years ago, she leaned against the bead curtain, looked sly, and looked beautiful and beautiful, and watched him go.

Fourteen years later, the younger brother of the lover finally found her, and the curtains of the years were separated from each other, and they were rolled up again. She opened the vermilion green, and it was already full of vicissitudes. The woman who used to be as shy as the little deer has already died. Sitting in the drunken jade building, it is a half-old Xu Niang who smokes a hookah and looks like a silky eye.

Mr. Inquired that Mr. did not feel so much, he only had money in his eyes. He shook his fan and smiled. "It doesn't have to listen to music. I am here, I want to ask my mother about it."

The smile on my mother’s face was stiff and the tone cooled down: “Ask the people? Who are you asking?”

That gentleman said slowly: "On the Yanbo River, in the boat, the fairy sounds slow, and Lang Jun is silent."

When she heard half of her, her face changed. When he finished the whole sentence, she was already unmanned, her lips were shaking, and a pair of sharp, even rather thin eyebrows twitched, holding her hands on her chest. For a long time, this is awkward to ask:

"You, who are you... who is it?!"

Mr. Inquired, Mr. laughed and said: "If I am not mistaken, then I can find someone for Xue Xianchang. In the past, you have a good time?"

The ink lady swayed, did not stand firm, fell on the paulownia stool, gasping with a big mouth, a red face on the face for a while, half a wave of waving and repulsing everyone, leaving only the bag to inquire about Mr. one in the hall. She stared at the businessman's face, her eyes ecstasy, sadness, and all sorts of complexities.

The bag inquired about the faint look of the gentleman. He mentioned the teapot and gave her a half-cold and cold tea. He handed it over: "First drink tea."

The ink lady took the cup and took a sip. She took another sip and waited for the tea to dry. It was still empty for several times, and then she looked up.

"Is Xue... Xue Lang let you come to me?"

The bag sighed and sighed: "To tell the truth, Xue Xianjun, who is mourning for her mother, has already passed away."

"what?!"

"It’s his younger brother, asking me to look around for my brother’s confidante. At the beginning, his brothers and two were in the lower self-cultivation, and they were no longer the ones who were wandering in the past. But the Xue Xianchang was busy. The sects made a tree and couldn’t get away from it. Later, when he was stunned, he had an accident. Unfortunately,..."

When the ink lady hadn’t finished listening, she immediately covered her face and burst into tears.

The bag inquired that she had persuaded her for a long time, and she barely stopped the convulsion. Then the gentleman continued: "Xie Xianjun had talked with his brother about the situation of her mother before her death. His younger brother has been looking for the whereabouts of her mother for years. Find you and pick you up."

The ink-naughter murmured and did not dare to be confident. He yanked the bag and asked Mr.’s hand to say, “You will repeat it again! I don’t believe it, I don’t believe that he is...”

This is the most important sentence of this business. Of course, he is backing up like a stream, and he repeats it again: "On the Yanbo River, in the boat, the fairy sounds slow, and Lang Jun is silent."

The low-low voice of the ink lady "ah" exclaimed, and the tears filled her eyes in an instant. "He, he never looked for me in the past, because I thought... I still blame him..."

Mr. Inquired Mr. sighed: "It’s been many years, and my mother, the festival will change. Yes, is there a son?"

"Yes...Yes, yes!" The ink lady cried and wept, crying, wiping her tears, and then shouting to the warmth upstairs, "A Nian, A Nian... Ink! Quick, come down!"

The door of the warm pavilion opened, but it was not the ink, but a child who could not help but wind.

The child held a pile of change of clothes in his hand, and the thin face came out from behind the clothes, and there were some bruises on his cheeks.

The package inquired that he was hesitant: "Is this... lang?"

"Ah, isn't it." The ink lady said with tears in her eyes, "This is a small fire in my building."

The gentleman immediately relieved and smiled and said: "Oh, it is."

The ink lady turned to ask the child: "Ink burns, where did the son go?"