East Zhangcun, Zhang Jitiepu door.

The original iron shop had long been buried in the fire, leaving only a stubble wall and acrimonious fireworks.

The old man's head seemed to have lost his soul, kneeling quietly on the ground, and lying on the ground beside him was a coma.

On the way back with his daughter, he saw corpses all the way, and numerous houses were buried in the fire.

"Dead, all dead!"

The old man held the golden sword in his hand tightly, his body trembling constantly.

More than three hundred people in Dongzhang Village, regardless of their age, gender, were killed by the mysterious black men in the previous group.

Zhang Yuan died without pity.

The only thing that saddened him was that Lao Yuan, who sells bamboo baskets at the east of the village, likes to drink stone roots, and the orphans and widows who died in the army next door ...

Those familiar faces, now only the cold corpse kept pounding his mind.

An old man over fifty years old opened his head, drowsiness leaped from his eyes, actually holding his head, squatting down and crying.

"What did we do wrong, and why did we endure this ..." He knelt on the ground with his legs bent.

Dongzhang Village is his home, but now, the home is no longer there. In the past, all the distant relatives and neighbors died, leaving only their father and daughter.

At this moment, an extremely weak voice came from behind him: "Daddy ..."

The old man hurriedly wiped his tears, turned and looked at the awakening Cuihua, and squeezed a stiff smile from his face: "Daughter, are you okay?"

Cuihua seemed to be at a loss. After looking around for a while, there was a trace of lucidity in his eyes: "Dad, how could I be here? Didn't I get arrested?"

"And you ... aren't you ..."

She covered her mouth and looked at the old head, her eyes full of wonder.

She clearly remembered that her father had been severely chopped off by the group, but now she stood in front of her.

"Dad, where's the wood ..."

Suddenly a thought flashed through her mind, then she suddenly looked at the ruins behind her, her body trembling violently: "Wood ... wood ..."

After saying that she would rush into the ruins.

The old head hurriedly held her and sighed softly, "Your wood is not dead, it's just ..."

"What about others? Just what?"

In the face of Cuihua's out of control, the old Zhang's head was slightly blocked, and his expression was so complicated that he told the story after 1510.

After a long while, there was a dead silence in the night, leaving only a silent confrontation between the father and daughter.

"Dad, did you lie to me, right?" Cuihua was thundered and roared in her head.

What did she hear?

Instead of being burnt to death by fire, her wood recovered her memory and became normal. She also killed those dozen mysterious people and cured her father's hands and feet ...

The old Zhang head knew that it was difficult for her to accept for a while, and it was worth standing silently waiting for her to digest.

In fact, why is he acceptable? Even if he saw the previous scene with his own eyes, he still felt like a dream.

It is true that people like Ye Chen are too far away from ordinary people like them, living only in the myths that the neighborhoods boast of.

I don't know how long it took before Cuihua sat down on the ground with a dismay, bit her lip and said, "Daddy ... you ... do you say that the wood is a fairy?"

"Perhaps……"

The old man took a deep breath and then subconsciously clenched the gold sword in his hand.

At this time, the ground began to tremble faintly, as if there were thousands of troops running wild.

In the fearful look of the father and daughter, a large number of armoured armours came.

The old Zhang subconsciously protected his daughter behind him, holding the gold sword tightly in his hands. He didn't know whether the gold sword could really protect them, but that was their only hope.

"The enemy ... this is the army of the enemy ..."

After seeing the armor and black flags worn by the army, the old head became more nervous.

When he was young, he had been to Lin'an County. On the street, he saw soldiers from the enemy's Da Luo Dynasty at the time being detained to show the crowd.

The army of the Da Luo Dynasty suddenly stopped. The vanguard officer reached out and pointed at the old father and daughter: "General, there are people here!"

"Take it down!"

With an indifferent voice, dozens of people rushed towards the father and daughter.

The old Zhang head subconsciously poked out the gold sword in his hand, his body trembled, thinking about how Ye Chen told him how to use it before leaving.

"Slow!"

Just then, an old voice suddenly came from the army, and there was a hint of fear in the voice.

next moment!

Then he saw an old man in purple clothing suddenly leap forward, walked slowly to the old father and daughter, staring at the gold sword.

"Lao, don't be nervous."

Seeing the tension in the old man's head, the old man in purple smiled: "My husband is from the Da Luo Dynasty and will not hurt your people. Just ask a few questions."

The old man looked at him alertly.

The old man in purple was not angry, took a deep look at the golden sword in his hand, and seemed to be afraid: "Dare to ask Lao Zhang, who gave this sword to you?"

He was a man of Wusheng Mountain in the Da Luo Dynasty and was worshipped by Da Luo for generations.

Ordinary people who seem to have old heads, as a matter of common sense, simply cannot get into his eyes, let alone appear in person.

No matter what, because of the golden sword in the hands of the old man, he felt a terrifying feeling of this three-turn martial arts saint, which seemed to be the power of the imperial realm.

He had a hunch that once the old sword was activated by the old sword, including him and the 100,000 army behind him, I'm afraid it would disappear with it.

Therefore, he appeared in time to stop.

The old head seemed threatening: "This ... this is what my son-in-law gave me ..."

"What son-in-law ..."

The old man with purple eyes narrowed his eyes. Although he didn't believe the old man's words, he still said: "Lao, you can leave."

After all, he went back into the army.

"go!"

The army advanced again, orderly in the eyes of the old father and daughter, heading south.

It wasn't until they went away that the old head woke up like a dream, and couldn't believe it. The enemy army did not kill them.

He looked thoughtfully at the golden sword in his hand, and his subconscious trembling became tighter.

...

Among the army fighting at Minghuo, a luxury carriage was surrounded by everyone and moved forward.

As the commander of the army, Liang Wucema moved forward, running in parallel with the carriage, and couldn't help but say, "Old man, why do you let go of those two people?"

Although Liang Wu was the commander-in-chief of this trip, he was very polite, because the existence in the carriage even had to respect three points today.

It is also the **** in their hearts.

A few seconds later, the voice of the old man in purple came out of the carriage: "General Liang, can you see the golden sword in the hands of the old man?"

(End of this chapter)