It is September, and the autumn air is frost.

In Nan'an City, Zhao Guo, there is an air leaking room in the Lin family's house.

Meng Yang woke up from his sleep as usual.

I was about to turn over and check the phone next to the pillow.

Who knew that as soon as he had moved, the colic from his arm made him open his eyes suddenly.

“Ahhhhh…”

The severe pain made Meng Yang's eyes sniff, and he couldn't help but let out a burst of wailing.

The body that was unable to move was lying on the bed, was wrapped tightly in layers of gauze.

The floor filled with bloody rotten mold, and you can even see a pool of blood.

"This, where is this?"

Meng Yang's mind instantly popped up countless question marks, turned his head and looked at it and was startled again.

In the sight, there were three strangers lying in the slightly crowded room.

One person slept with his head down, and the other grind his teeth and exhaled.

There was another person with blood-seeking bandages wrapped around his body and was fixed on a fixed cross bed frame.

His blood-filled eyes stared straight at the ceiling like a dead silence.

"Aren't I at home? Stumped..."

Meng Yang's heart was beating wildly, and he looked unbelievable.

Just as I was about to move my body, the closed door was suddenly kicked open.

"Bang..."

The voice not only scared Meng Yang, but also woke up the other two in the room.

The only thing I had was wrapped around gauze, and the bandage was not moving.

"What are you going to do? Don't..."

Meng Yang, who was frightened, had not yet figured out the situation in front of him, but he saw two men wearing armor and ferocious expressions snatching the door and pressing his head and legs.

Immediately afterwards, a middle-aged man in a silk dress also walked in.

He came to Mengyang's bed, glanced at him with interest, and reached out to Mengyang's chest, whose face was so scared that he was green.

He poked Meng Yang's chest, which looked like the tough and hard skin burned after the fire.

The middle-aged goatee cracked his mouth, exposed a yellow teeth, and nodded with satisfaction.

"It's well restored, you can try the effect."

Immediately, three elderly people dressed in the room walked into the room.

One of the old men poured a bowl of porridge into his mouth regardless of Meng Yang's shouting.

At the same time, the other two old men were holding scissors in their hands and cutting the bandages on Meng Yang's body.

The whole process was painful and itchy for Meng Yang, but he didn't dare to struggle at all.

"Pack up, tell him the rules of the Lin family, and then send it to the training ground."

Seeing that it was almost done, the goatee gave an order and left the room.

Looking at my chest, arms, thighs and belly, the rough skin that was brushed with Buddha iron.

The cold voice of guards rang in Meng Yang's ears, which were filled with food.

"In the Lin family, the disciples who train in the training should read, say, ask less. Since you are willing, your life is from the Lin family, do you understand?"

I know how to make a hammer, and I wake up after labor and capital. My life is from the Lin family? I am fooling around.

Also, what the hell is this training disciple?

Seeing Meng Yang sitting by the bed with a dazed look on his face, he kept staring at his body.

The two-meter-tall guard's face darkened. Meng Yang, who was struggling, took Meng Yang out as if he was carrying a chick.

When Meng Yang endured the pain and walked out of the door with a staggering pace, his shocked gaze was full of incredible results.

I saw more than forty people wearing disciple uniforms standing in line outside the quiet fence stone courtyard.

They had no eyes, their faces were desperate, and they looked down at their feet without saying a word, as if they were going to the battlefield.

"Go to the team and stand!"

Looking at the Lin Li attic on the ridge of the tiled loach in the distance, Meng Yang's eyes were complicated and he walked into the team in silence.

Six people were taken out from other rooms by the guards, and a group of dozens of people stepped forward under the escort of the guards.

After coming to the training ground, Meng Yang was surprised to find that the square in front of him was really big and there was no limit at first sight.

There are also many primary areas, intermediate areas, and advanced areas around the square.

There are another 100 sparring platforms with a radius of more than five meters in each area.

When the team stood on the central platform of the primary region, Meng Yang understood.

The disciples of the training are those who bought a training wooden stakes from the aristocratic families and were beaten.

A human flesh sandbag that can be beaten to death at any time regardless of life or death.

The only value before death is to use one's own body to help the core disciples of the Lin family to reach a higher level of martial arts.

"Okay, others are not a waste of aristocratic families, or a prince who is loved by a cute girl. I will be beaten when I travel through time. Not only will I be beaten, but I will also have to be beaten every few days. I have been in trouble for eight lifetimes."

Looking at the core disciple of the Lin family who was walking towards the square, Meng Yang, who realized that he might have traveled through time, his face immediately turned pale.

Seeing Meng Yang's head suddenly ache as he looked at the group of disciples with a harsh temperament getting closer and closer.

It seemed as if it was subjected to some kind of induction, and even its vision blurred.

The memory scenes were played in his mind like movies.

Until the silent heart thumped, reason gradually became clear.

Meng Yang, who seemed to be sucking the air all over the world, had a complex look on his face.

"This is the original owner's memory!"

After a moment, Meng Yang sighed in despair.

After the memory was merged, he discovered that the young man's body was also called Meng Yang.

In order to treat her seriously ill sister, she sold herself to Lin's family as a training disciple.

Finally, a core disciple of the Lin family scolded him for being a bastard, and he said a few words in anger, but he was tied to a stake and seriously injured.

He died not long after dragging it into the room, and Meng Yang's soul penetrated into his body.

"It's you..."

At this time, a young boy with a jade face and white clothes, who looked only about fifteen years old, came to the platform.

The cold eyes, which seemed to be hidden by the sword, swept to Meng Yang, who was shrinking his neck.

As he pointed his fingers, Meng Yang felt cold all over his body and couldn't help but tremble.

"Follow me to the No. 7 sparring platform."

Meng Yang, who was gritting his teeth, caught a glimpse of the guard holding a machete beside him, and followed him with a tough bullet.

Meng Yang didn't want to go, but he didn't want to die. After the memory was merged, he knew the cruelty of this world and understood even more the consequences of not going.

"Don't worry, Xuanyue Ghost Thunder has just been practicing the combat skills of the Xuanyue Ghost Thunder. He only practiced fingering in the early stage and did not have much lethality."

"With your flesh stake body, it's enough to resist."

After arriving at the No. 7 training platform, the young man looked at Meng Yang and spoke coldly.

Meng Yang smiled again and sneered at what the boy said.

Given his current physical condition, even if the young man's finger skills are not lethal, he may not be able to end the training.

The guard just told them that the Lin family trained for three hours each time.

Moreover, according to his understanding, this world is still a bizarre and dangerous world.

Any ordinary person who passes through qi and blood can be called a cultivator.

After learning a few skills, the pressure of qi and blood swelling is not something that ordinary people can resist when they just stand.

Even if you are beaten to death in the middle of the process, you will only deal with it after the sparring practice.

Let him block, he blocks with a hammer?

The boy did not take Meng Yang's cold snorting to heart.

After some movement of his hands and feet, his index finger, which was like lightning, tapped towards Meng Yang's chest at an extremely fast speed.

Looking at his fingers poked his chest, Meng Yang's face was ashamed and looked unwilling.
To be continued...