Chapter 310: Husband and Wife in Harmony, Easily Killing Hanlin, Domineeringly Protecting Wang Linger

Zhuang Diemeng looked up and saw a girl in red who was younger than her playing the jade flute, and another woman in a light green Confucian robe and a veil.

"Who are they?"

Just as she turned around to ask about the identities of Ci Song and the others, Ci Song had appeared in front of the woman in red without her knowing when.

Ci Song and the woman in red smiled at each other, then turned to look at Yang Taotian and said, "Yang Taotian, your death is coming."

"No birds fly in the thousands of mountains, and no people are seen in the thousands of paths."

In the cold air, Ci Song chanted "Snow on the River", and every word seemed to be a chill from the bottom of his heart, which contrasted with the falling snowflakes. His right hand tightly grasped the Shuihan Sword, and the sword seemed to be sealed with endless ice power, which condensed the surrounding air.

"Then let's try it, the ants are proud of losing water!"

Yang Taotian took out a piece of clothing, put it on himself in an instant, and then swung the sledgehammer towards Ci Song.

With a "whoosh", the Shuihan sword in Ci Song's hand was accompanied by a biting cold wind. Wherever the sword energy passed, ice and snow flew, as if to freeze the whole world.

"Bang!"

A huge roar sounded, and Yang Taotian's body shook suddenly, and then a huge sword mark appeared on his body.

"An old man in a straw hat and raincoat is fishing alone in the cold river snow."

The blood mist spread in the icicles, like a group of frozen flames, sad and weird.

Yang Taotian's left shoulder had disappeared in the blood mist, and that part of his body seemed to be swallowed by an invisible force, leaving only a deep black hole, emitting a cold chill. The law enforcement hammer that he was once proud of also turned into fragments, scattered around him, flashing the unique cold light of metal.

The clothes that Yang Taotian had just put on fluttered in the cold wind, and the empty sleeves swayed in the wind like hunting flags, intertwined with the drifting blood mist and icicles, forming a suffocating picture.

Yang Taotian covered his empty clothes with his trembling hands, trying to cover up the irreparable wound. However, blood still flowed out from between his fingers, mixed with the broken ice, forming a shocking red line. His face was full of pain and confusion, and his eyes were full of shock and fear.

He struggled to stand up, looking at Ci Song and the woman in red, his eyes full of shock and fear.

"How is this possible..." Yang Taotian struggled to stand up, his body swaying, as if he would fall down at any time, "How could Confucianism cultivate such a young Jinshi?"

His words were filled with endless astonishment and unwillingness, as if he really realized his failure at this moment. However, this cognition came too late, and his life had begun to pass away.

After he finished speaking, Yang Taotian's body suddenly turned into an ice sculpture, instantly freezing into a sad and beautiful work of art. Then, the ice sculpture exploded, turned into a piece of ice crystal powder, and disappeared in the ice and snow. Only the broken hammer and his dying words were left, echoing on the silent snowfield.

At the same time, the woman in red also stopped playing her flute, looked at the direction where Yang Taotian disappeared, and said coldly: "This way of dying is really too easy for you. You hurt Brother Ci Song. I should slowly torture you to death."

Ci Song put away the long sword in his hand, turned around and rushed to the woman in red, hugged her in his arms, "Yao'er, long time no see, I really miss you."

"Brother Ci Song, Yao'er misses you too."

Mo Yao's originally cold face instantly became like spring breeze, spring flowers blooming, and also hugged Ci Song.

"Ahem, be careful, there are so many people now."

Mo Yao's teacher Wang Linger coughed lightly, reminding Ci Song and Mo Yao, but the two seemed not to hear it and still maintained the hug.

"This may be the result of a long separation."

Wang Linger helplessly supported her forehead, then looked at the legalists present and said, "Why, you bunch of rabble, do you still want to continue to cause trouble?"

These legalists saw the terrifying strength displayed by Ci Song and the woman in red, guessing that the identity of this woman must be extraordinary, and retreated one after another, not daring to shout anymore.

At this moment, another purple-clothed figure walked out of the literary academy. He looked about 40 years old. Shang Wuqing and Shang Wuliang looked six points similar to this man. He was the dean of the literary academy, Shang Ming.

"I wonder which Confucian academy you are from?"

Shang Ming bowed to Wang Linger after seeing her.

"Hmph, what does it have to do with you? If I were from an ordinary Confucian academy, would you also attack me?"

Wang Linger snorted coldly and said coldly.

"This, senior, even if Confucianism is now the world's number one school, my legalists are not easy to mess with." Shang Ming shook his head helplessly.

"Really? Let me see how many half-saints in your Fa family can come out to fight me."

Wang Linger took a slight step forward, and the next second she came directly to Shang Ming's side, stretched out her hand and grabbed Shang Ming's collar.

"Obviously, you are just a weak Confucian scholar, not even qualified to be looked at by me."

"Senior, although my Fa family is declining, it is definitely not an easy person to deal with. Senior's behavior, I am afraid that it will hurt the friendship between the two factions and cause disputes?"

Shang Ming was grabbed by the collar by Wang Linger, but his expression was not panicked at all, and he said slowly.

"Chichi!"

Wang Linger smiled and shook her head, "I like what Ci Song said just now. To stir up a dispute? With you small fish and shrimps, even if I slaughter all the students from your two colleges today, do you believe that I, Wang Linger, can still leave the capital of South Korea safely?"

After that, Wang Linger threw Shang Ming out directly.

"Bang!"

Shang Ming fell directly into the snow, splashing a large piece of snowflakes. His clothes fluttered in the cold wind, his brows were tightly knitted together, and he didn't speak for a long time, because he couldn't sense any talent from Wang Linger at all. There are only two possible reasons for this situation. One is that Wang Linger is an ordinary person, and the other is that Wang Linger has entered the sainthood and broken through to the semi-saint realm.

"Senior, you are a semi-saint strongman. Did you violate the covenant of the saints by attacking us ordinary literati privately?"

After a long time, Shang Ming slowly stood up, with a reminder in his tone.

"Heh, if it weren't for the Saint's Covenant, do you really think you could still be alive and talk to me?"

Wang Ling'er looked at Shang Ming with contempt, her tone full of teasing.

"Senior, if you get involved in worldly affairs, you will also violate the Saint's Covenant. In my opinion, Ci Song should be held responsible for what he did. As a half-saint, you cannot interfere in this matter."

Shang Ming continued to use the Saint's Covenant to restrain Wang Ling'er.

Hearing this, Wang Ling'er's face was full of disgust, "No wonder Brother Ning would abandon his own Dao fruit and return to the realm of literary masters. This Saint's Covenant is indeed a bit annoying."

. . . . . . .