This man and his sword go their own way.

It is a unique scene in Nanxiaoyaozhou.

It has even become the case that when people from other continents who have been to Nanxiaoyaozhou meet someone from other continents, as long as they 'accidentally' mention that name, there will be a knowing smile on their faces.

As for the people in Nanxiaoyaozhou... who dares to laugh?

Well, the owner of the restaurant and wine shop on the mountain should be smiling in his heart.

Because as soon as someone mentions the name of the purple-clad person during the dinner, everyone will drink to calm down, right?

After you finish pressing your semen, you have to grab some chopsticks and take a few bites of food to calm yourself down, right?

After relieving the kidneys, your movements will become more gentle, right?

After their movements became gentler and less rude, these swordsmen, knights, and heroes drank more than half a bowl of wine before finishing a sentence. They put down the wine bowl and pressed it down hard, for fear that less than half the bowl of wine would be left.

It didn't all splash out to show the heroic spirit of the warrior, but the result was a clang. If it weren't for the bowl being damaged or the table being unlucky, it would have been less, wouldn't it?

This has become the only way for the owner of the Xianjia Winery on Nanxiaoyao Mountain to increase wine sales, stabilize the order in the store, and make a fortune. Occasionally, colleagues will share their experiences with each other.

This is much more useful than the old stories about the love dispute between a fairy and a knight, the soul-stirring romance, or the old story about a swordsman becoming a beauty in anger...

There is a low white wall outside the library, which surrounds the library. There is a gap of several feet between the building and the top of the wall. It is a small transitional courtyard. People coming in and out usually have to pass through the courtyard gate first and then the tower gate.

After passing through the double doors, enter the library.

At this moment, the Confucian words appearing on the building and the location of the flipped Confucian scripture are not actually close to the library, but are separated by several feet like the courtyard wall.

Thousands of ink words are flowing continuously.

One step away from the threshold of the courtyard, the old man with white eyebrows turned his head and glanced at the Confucian scriptures in front of him at the place where the library had just hit.

His gaze under his white eyebrows swept around, paused slightly on Li Xueyou's face, then moved away and continued to look around.

The old man shook his head and did not see the shadow of the man or the other swords.

That dazzling color can be seen from a long distance if you enter the academy. It cannot be hidden, and it is impossible to hide it.

Because it is an unsheathed sword with a sharp edge.

Only the fallen sword tomb can hide its sharp edge.

Yisu, who was originally showing off his power, suddenly burst into purple light, and the sword body swung horizontally.

The tip of the sword was pointed directly at the white-browed old man who dared to ignore it and look left and right.

The whole place was silent and the atmosphere was tense.

The old man with white eyebrows in an old black shirt took a look, raised his feet, and took half a step forward. The toes of his cloth shoes were pressed against the threshold of the courtyard door.

He shook his sleeves, and an old book fell from his sleeves into a dry hand.

Holding the book in one hand, he raised it with the other hand, dipped his index finger into some saliva, and then opened the pages.

The white-browed old man flipped through the book as if no one was watching, pausing for a moment.

During this period, he raised his hand from time to time and grabbed it with his lean fingers, as if he was ingesting something from a certain page of the book.

But he moved too fast, and with a flash of light of various colors, it was caught in his palm. Zhao Rong and others who were watching quietly from the side didn't even have time to see it clearly. He had already made a fist and stuffed it into his sleeve.

It's like sorting out clutter, taking your time.

Only occasionally, the old man would glance at the object in his hand, then raise his hand, loosen his fingers, and throw it towards the library courtyard to the side.

It turned out that some long and short words were included in the sea of ​​words in the library that was being mended.

Among them is an abrupt sentence from a scenic travelogue.

"There is a forbidden frog pond in front of me, and there are no frogs chirping in the summer moon."

There are also scraps of paper from ancient biographies.

"When I was a boy, I asked my teacher what was the first priority. The teacher said: "Reading is the first priority." Bo'an said otherwise, and said: "This is not the first priority. Is he a sage?"

There are also a few words from the casual notes.

"I fell asleep while holding my pen, and suddenly I wrote a poem in my dream. When I woke up, I could remember it, and when I finished it, the pen stopped and the flowers fell."

To name a few.

The ordinary words were lost in the sea at first, and then, the sea of ​​words in the library suddenly boiled, and vague and strange phenomena appeared one after another on the wooden building.

There are quiet night scenes, images of saints, and flowers falling in dreams...

The white-browed old man wants to make some space in the book for a little guy who is baring his teeth.

I haven't gone out of the library to bask in the sun for a long time. I've been flipping through books in the building, and I've saved a lot of things.

The owner of this sword.

The background is indeed big.

The location is really high.

Gold is expensive, indeed.

It is said that among the many monks in the human race, sword cultivators are the most money-hungry and the most lethal.

A certain Taizong cultivated swords for the Xuanhuang tribe, and the owner of this sword could be said to be... extremely expensive.

The money for food is not measured in green clam money and colorful butterfly money, but starts with priceless gold turtle money.

The white-browed old man frowned slightly. If this money were invested in No. 72 Academy, I wonder how many promising reading seeds could be cultivated.

Even if we are afraid that Confucianism will grow bigger and the power of hundreds of schools of thought will grow bigger, if we spend this unpredictable mountain money on people's livelihood at the bottom of the mountain, we don't know how many dynasties can make the people of the dynasty have food, clothing, health, and live happily.

No matter how bad it is, you can still spend it on the four Taiqing mansions in each continent, and the effect will be excellent.

But the result...

The old man stopped turning the book because he reached a certain page.

There, there is a special bookmark.

With dry hands, gently pinch it out.

Among the Confucian scholars present, those with sharp eyes suddenly choked when their eyes fell on the bookmark.

The bookmark is a thin piece, made of ancient jade, round, as big as the mouth of a teacup, but somewhere along the curve, there is a straight gap opening!

This is... Yujue.

The white-browed old man held the book in one hand, and held the 'bookmark' as thin as a cicada's wing in the other hand. The hand holding the gentleman's jade was placed across his abdomen.

He looked at the smallest sword cultivator's natal sword Yisu registered on the gold slips in the Sanchi Building of Tai'a Sword Pavilion.

Like the sword master, the little guy has never been disciplined by Mr. Confucius?

No matter what happens, as long as it is reasonable, we Confucian scholars can take care of it.

Who said that? Your sword cultivator ancestor Jiang Taiqing.

The old gentleman smiled.

Yisu saw that this troublesome, troublesome person seemed to be ready, so without any hesitation, he struck westward with his sword.

"Stop it, come back!"

Li Xueyou's voice sounded again.

It's just that the 'pen tip' that drew the straight purple line stopped somewhere and didn't care at all.

"I told you to come back!!!"

A scolding sound.

This woman who used to be soft and frail and dared not speak loudly when shouting, now her voice was surprisingly loud, and what was even more surprising was her tone.

And this angry words seemed to have worked.

Yisu stopped suddenly, barely three feet away from the door of the small courtyard of the library.

The straight purple line suddenly turned in direction, shot up into the sky, and then drew a circle to ease its momentum.

Yisu could no longer pay attention to the old man with white eyebrows. Instead, the sword trembled, but it turned towards Li Xueyou silently.

I saw that Li Xueyou was a little different at this time.

He put his hands behind his back, raised his eyebrows, raised his chin, stared at the flying sword, and pursed his lips.

The woman said with a cold face, "Huh?"

Yisu stopped drawing circles a long time ago, and the scolding sound came. It swayed in the air, teetering on the edge of falling, and almost fell. At this moment, seeing the person angry, he swished and hurried back to her side.

This priceless psychic first-class flying sword came to Li Xueyou's body nervously. It moved fearfully and slowly circled around her, as if it was sizing up Li Xueyou's cold face and did not dare to get close.

Li Xueyou said softly, "Will you still transfer?"

Yisu suddenly stopped, the sword stood upright, stood at attention, and became honest.

In the distance, Yu Huaijin looked calmly at this natal plane that could be thousands of miles away from the sword master.

Beside her, Zhao Rong put his hands in his sleeves and watched this scene with interest. If there weren't so many people, he would have wanted to grab a handful of melon seeds and squat down to watch the fun.
To be continued...