When Jiang Baochan woke up from his drowsiness, it was already bright and the stars were sparse.

On the bonfire not far away, two branches as thick as a bowl were inserted into a pork leg, grilling oil, smelling the fragrance.

He lowered his head and hugged a pig's leg, his hands full of oil, and occasionally wiped a smear of broken hair falling from his forehead. The flames reflected the bald head and were shining!

"Awaken?" Jian Wuzheng patted the pig head beside him and said, "Come and try my skills."

Jiang Baochan sat aside silently, reached out to take Jian Wuzheng's hand over to the pig's legs, staring at the bonfire and dazzled.

Jiang Baochan suddenly didn't know what to say about the car driver who had been sent by his father to drive around him for many years.

Did he accuse him of not reminding himself not to get into a trap? Or did he blame him for not taking action to rescue him when he was attacked?

Or, why didn’t he appear in the black prison and rob the prison with his unparalleled strength as his father?

After coming out of the black prison for half a year, I never left the Marquis' Mansion again, so naturally I had no contact with him.

Now when we meet, we really don’t know what to say.

Jian Wuzheng finished gnawing the remaining meat on the pig's legs in two bites, threw the bones into the bonfire, and smashed a piece of Mars. He stroked his hair with his greasy hands, and looked at Jiang Baochan holding the pig's legs, and suddenly spoke solemnly: "Young Master, you are not suitable for practicing swords, let alone martial arts."

When Jiang Baochan heard his affirmative words, he couldn't help but be stunned, and then looked at this master of swordsmanship, which is said to be a rare swordsman in the world.

"You missed the best time to practice swords. Even if you practice San Fu and San Jiu in the summer, you will not be able to catch up with the master ambushing you in Yinjiagou in your lifetime." Jian Wuzheng stared at the bonfire. The bonfire was constantly emitting heat, but Jian Wuzheng's words were getting colder and colder. He didn't know why he wanted to stop Baochan's sword practice. He probably didn't want his senior brother's only son to follow his old path: "What's more, the immortal arts you practice are not a clever internal kung fu. It's a joke to spend half a day before taking the move. Your luck is enough for those two killers to kill you ten times."

"Oh." Jiang Baochan just responded lightly, put down the pig legs that he had no appetite to eat, and learned Jian Wuming's appearance and stroked the broken hair on his forehead. In the past six months, he has read many secret books and read almost all the books at home. He naturally knew that the Art of Eternity is not a masterful martial art, and it is even worse than ordinary boxing and foot skills. He practiced this technique simply because he could practice this technique as long as he didn't die, and he could achieve success as long as he worked hard. When it came to Jian Wuming's words, he could only smile: "I want to take revenge."

"If you want to take revenge, you don't have to become a martial arts master. There are many people in the world who are willing to kill people with your head for money and power that are within your fingers." Jian Wuzheng turned his head and looked at his senior brother's only son. Jiang Baochan was wearing white clothes and staring at the bonfire. The bright bonfire shone brightly in his eyes. He was never the senior brother and himself who were still on the mountain back then. Jian Wuzheng suddenly felt a little powerless to continue: "Baochan, go find the old friends of the senior brother before, learn some power-making skills, this is the art of longevity, just practice Johnson and Johnson to strengthen their bodies."

"Senior Brother?" Jiang Baochan was only a thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy after all. When he heard the secret that his father had never mentioned before, he naturally became interested: "So, my father is the same schoolmate? Then he is also a master?"

A trace of thought flashed in Jian Wuzheng's eyes. This brain that has been practicing sword for many years is really hard to tell. Is it better to make up a good lie or tell him the truth?

Fortunately, Jiang Baochan is not the kind of person who breaks the casserole and asks the whole thing. Jian Wuzheng doesn't answer. He doesn't care. He said to himself: "No wonder my father often boasts that even a fly can't fly in the Hou's Mansion."

Jian Wuzheng looked at the same child as his senior brother when he was young, and silently lowered his head.

After all, the more people know, the more tired they live. Perhaps the senior brother knows too many secrets and carries too many secrets. He simply gave up this time and handed over the biggest variable.

The brothers who put down the mountain are just chess pieces after all. The ones on the mountain are chess players.

The darkness of the night was covered with darkness, as dark as iron, making people feel uncomfortable.

"By the way" Jiang Baochan seemed to remember something: "Did the woman who killed Li Yanguan use a sword? Who is better than her?"

Jian Wuzheng shook his head: "I can't explain who is stronger and who is weak. Life and death fight is just a moment. There are too many variables and too many possibilities that can occur."

"Oh? I thought that the masters were just like the blind man who was in the storyteller in Huailou, and when they met, they reported to their own house and competed with their internal strength. Those who won said they would give in, and those who lost said they would say goodbye again."

Jian Wuzheng also laughed: "If the masters only compare internal strength, then the masters must be all seventy-year-old and eighty-year-old figures. What's the point of this world?"

"Isn't there any treasures like a thousand-year-old man who can ginseng ten thousand-year-old Ganoderma lucidum that can easily increase its skills for a hundred years." Jiang Baochan was also fascinated by those legends. Collecting magical weapons and weapons from all over the world is also a kind of compensation for this dream of the world that can never be realized.

"There is this mountain, I'll take you to find it?" Jian Wuming pointed to the top of Qing Peak in the distance.

Jiang Baochan was stunned, his eyes lit up, and then he became ecstatic and nodded repeatedly.
Chapter completed!