Chapter 674: A Saint Appears

For this world-ending situation, Daoist Taiping has prepared for hundreds of years, from the underworld to the human world, from the palace to the countryside, from the bank of the muddy water to the cloud platform and then back to the green hills, calculating the situation.

The old forests all over the world have collected countless information for him to ensure that there will be no misjudgments on those important nodes.

Zenzi is indeed in Baicheng, because he wants to guard the snowfield, and everyone knows that Cao Yuan, the sword sage, was seriously injured after the battle with the queen of the snow country, and has not been seen in the world for nearly a hundred years.

At the critical moment before his sanctification, Bu Qiuxiao sat quietly in the depths of a cottage, wandering between heaven and earth, unable to wake up.

But just like Daoist Taiping said that Jing Jiu couldn't count everything, how could he count everything clearly? Can you know what choices those people will make at certain moments? What kind of surprise is waiting for him?

In a thatched cottage, the wind howls and blows in the opposite direction, the willow trees on the bank are uprooted, and the lotus in the lake is broken, flying like a broken hat, or sinking and floating on the water surface, the picture looks extremely miserable.

What's even more frightening is that those winds were dyed red, like a steaming blood mist, full of evil spirits.

The formation that suppressed the passage to the underworld for countless years has failed, and the stone bell mountain at the end of the Thousand Miles of Wind Corridor is already riddled with holes. The sound of whimpering is like a broken flute, not a bell anymore. The hard rock has turned into powder, and it is poured into the deep underground with the wind.

A thin red feather fluttered in the strong wind, looking at a group of scholars on the ground who were trying to repair the formation, like an indifferent and merciless eye.

Suddenly, a touch of emerald color fell from the high and distant sky.

The emerald color did not melt when it met the blood-red wind, but it rose when it met the wind. It spread its wings with a whirring sound, and turned into a blue bird.

The blue bird's eyes were full of anger, and with a soft chirp, it pecked at the red feather.

The red feather seemed to have its own spirituality, and it dived with the wind, and instantly went to the surface of the lake more than ten miles away.

There was a poor broken lotus on the undulating lake, the blue bird suddenly flew out from the broken lotus, poked out its beak like lightning, grabbed the red feather with incomparable accuracy, fluttered its wings, flew high into the sky, and soon disappeared into the sky.

With the departure of the red feathers, the wind in the Thousand Miles Wind Corridor gradually faded away, and it was no longer full of bloody aura like before. The wind remained undiminished, but the damage to practitioners was much smaller.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, the scholars of Yimao Zhai started to carve characters on the cliff against the strong wind, trying to prevent at least slow down the speed of the formation's disintegration.

No matter whether it is applying talisman paper or engraving characters into talismans, it takes a lot of righteousness. In a very short time of dozens of breaths, many scholars collapsed to the ground, and even passed out directly.

But none of the scholars who were still standing left. They continued to work hard, using human power to fight against the power of the world, and bloodstains from their vomit could be seen everywhere between the cliffs.

Xi Yiyun and more than a dozen teachers stood in the place where the wind was the strongest and the situation was the most dangerous, his face was extremely pale, his breath was constantly being consumed, and he seemed to be unable to hold on.

At this time, around the simple residence in the depths of a thatched cottage, the wind suddenly became much quieter, and those annoying whimpers also became much quieter.

Bu Qiuxiao opened his eyes, glanced out of the window, smelled the lingering smell in the wind, glanced at his fingers, and knew what had happened.

He stood up long and floated out of the room. With a soft snap, he tapped the residual lotus on the lake with his toes, and walked away against the wind. He soon came to Shizhong Mountain at the end of the wind corridor.

The young scholars of Yimaozhai shouted in surprise: "Zhaizhu!"

The expressions of the ten or so old scholars in the front suddenly changed, and there was a look of regret in their eyes.

Looking at the familiar figure in the sky, Xi Yiyun felt extremely sad, and murmured in his heart, sir...

Dozens of days ago, Bu Qiuxiao entered the state of emptiness, roaming the world, comprehending the meaning of nature, and waiting for the final sanctification.

At this moment, he couldn't perceive any movement outside his body, so why did he wake up early?

Because of his divine sense that traveled between the heaven and the earth, he felt this drastic change in the sky and the earth.

Wandering around the world, returning once... this is a miss, and when you want to usher in sanctification again, you don't know how many years of hard work you will have to go through, and it is even possible... there will be no chance again!

Bu Qiuxiao ignored the shouts of his disciples and pointed his right hand at the cliff.

He usually writes with his right hand.

When writing, the index finger is at the highest point.

Today, his index finger was cut with a very small wound by the red feather, which had already condensed.

At this time, the wound opened again, and a drop of blood spilled out.

Immediately afterwards, more and more blood beads flew out, forming a blood line and falling on the cliff.

The blood is like ink, sometimes splashing, sometimes carefully falling on those gaps, trying to seal it and prevent the wind from pouring into the underworld.

But even if he is Bu Qiuxiao, how can he resist the power of heaven and earth?

Seeing the blood gradually dispersed by the strong wind, and Bu Qiuxiao's face becoming paler and paler, Xi Yiyun was in more pain, and a question arose in his heart.

In this catastrophe in the world, sir, you chose to come back, even if you gave up your sanctification, but you still can't change anything, is this... worth it?

Bu Qiuxiao knew better about the current situation.

If he chooses to wake up early, he cannot be sanctified.

If you can't be sanctified, you can't turn the tide.

But with the storm ahead, how could he not wake up?

It's really not an interesting subject.

He kept using blood to write words without real meaning on the cliff of Shizhong Mountain. Thinking of these things, the corners of his lips slightly curled up, revealing a somewhat bitter smile.

At the next moment, something that no one expected happened.

The bloodstains on the cliff suddenly emitted a bright light and became even more bright red!

No matter how strong and fierce the wind blows from all over the world, it can't dilute those bloodstains any more!

The blood that was getting brighter and red didn't smell bloody at all, it was just extremely solemn, like a vermilion pen falling on paper!

The entire Shizhong Mountain gradually stabilized, the stone wall no longer continued to melt, and the cracks were gradually congealed by blood!

The passage to the underworld is getting smaller and smaller, and the wind is naturally getting smaller and smaller!

What exactly is going on?

The young scholars were shocked and speechless.

Xi Yiyun looked bewildered.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Bu Qiuxiao was still laughing, there was no bitterness anymore, he was as innocent as a child, and even laughed out loud.

His laughter echoed to the top of the cliff, gradually suppressing those whimpers like broken flutes.

When he first entered Yimao Zhai to study, he was also a naive young man, but because of his master, he took on the responsibility and pressure prematurely.

Whether it was Yan Shusheng who left Yimao Zhai, or the conversation with Jing Jiu in the old plum garden, the pressure became heavier and heavier.

Until today, until this moment, he finally relieved all those pressures from his shoulders.

"This is the blood of a saint!"

"The Veteran is sanctified!"

Several old scholars from a studio shouted in ecstasy.

Yes, Bu Qiuxiao is sanctified.

Facing the catastrophe in the world, he resolutely chose to give up sanctification.

This is the saint.

...

...

"got windy."

Chanzi stood at the entrance of the small temple, grinding his bare feet on the threshold, looking very nervous.

He looked into the distance, his face was full of worry, but what he was looking at was not the snow field, but the distant east.

The aura of the world has changed... a huge change, which means that this world is going to have a big event, even bigger than the Queen of the Snow Kingdom giving birth back then.

At this time, the wind in Baicheng was not strong, but thinking of the incomparably far distance from where the wind went, Chan Zi's heart became more and more heavy, and he let go of his fingers.

The result calculated by Liangxintong was very bad, and what made him feel helpless was that Baicheng was too far away, and he didn't have time to get to those places.

How can we stop this catastrophe?

With a soft snap, the threshold was crushed by bare feet, and Zen Zi came to the sky, slightly opened the five fingers of his right hand, and aimed at the depths of the snow field with a light mirror.

The sunlight fell on the mirror, refracted to the north, and crossed the long snow field. Instead of being scattered, it became brighter, and it was extremely accurate without any deviation.

Tens of thousands of miles away, the lonely and high ice peak was illuminated by this ray of sunlight, revealing a light blue luster.

A divine consciousness emerged from the ice peak, crossed the snow field in an instant, and came to the small temple in Baicheng, with anger at being disturbed and... a trace of curiosity.

The wind howled, and the snow particles flew around. The believers and soldiers in the small town screamed and avoided.

This is the majesty of the Snow Queen.

"If I'm not mistaken, the passage to the underworld should have undergone drastic changes, and Daoist Taiping is destroying the world."

Zen Zi looked tens of thousands of miles away, and said with a pale face: "You should have felt it earlier, and you should be able to figure it out. In addition to killing mortals in the world, he also wants to kill all the creatures in the Snow Country, so as to completely eliminate the danger of the beast tide."

The indifferent but powerful will of the Queen of the Snow Country came from that divine sense—what does it have to do with me?

Every few hundred years, the north of Chaotian Continent will usher in a terrifying wave of beasts. At first, the powerful human race thought that this was the Snow Country trying to invade the south and occupy the territory of the Human Race. Now they are guessing that it is because the number of Snow Country monsters born in the ice and snow is too large, and the consumption of the extreme cold veins in the extreme north is too great. The Queen of the Snow Country will drive them south and kill them by the hands of the Human Race. If this is the case, how could the Queen of the Snow Country care about the death of Daoist Taiping?

Zenzi looked into the depths of the snow field and said sincerely: "Those are your people after all, you can let them die, how can they die under the plot of others?"

The Snow Queen's message in response remains clear and indifferent.

——What does it have to do with me?

"Yes, this matter has nothing to do with you. If you can not move, I will accept your favor."

A thick and perfect voice came from the ground.

Snow Queen's consciousness gradually faded away, and she actually acquiesced.

Zen Zi was shocked and looked back at Baicheng below.

That voice is still echoing in the city, like a bell, endlessly.

The blood-colored cliff trembled slightly, and the snow on the top of the peak fell rustlingly, and gradually piled up behind the small temple.

In the small temple, the iron knife, which was longer than the beams and was unimaginably heavy, was still quietly placed on the shelf.

A hand suddenly grasped the handle of the knife.

That hand was full of wounds and scars everywhere, and it looked like the peeling paint leather of a Buddha statue.