On the sacred platform of the Confucianist Gate, Xu Shuanglin looked at the little golden stream in the night, and suddenly felt like the year of the Lantern Festival, he put the paper into the hearth.

Instantly burned to ash, only a little spark is still there, scalding him through the years.

w.a.n.g Luofenghua, Nangong floe, Nangong Liu three.

I can be friends for a lifetime.

However, the South Palace has long since disappeared. Now it is Xu Shuanglin, a madman who is a demon who climbs from the depths of **** and returns to the world for all the righteous gentlemen.

There is no more than Nangong.

Like his name, he floats in the sky between heaven and earth.

The years have pa.s.sed, and the rock is also staggered.

What's more, this is a small catkins.

So many years have pa.s.sed, the willow tree is old, the maple tree is dying, and the wandering is wandering. It’s not the end of the world, it’s the blood of the mountains and the overwhelming hate.

But why, still involuntarily put Luo Fenghua to teach him the things that year, spared no effort to give the leaves to forget, why do you see the real gentleman and good people, can not help but feel guilty, can not stop squatting.

why……

Why do you cry?

Xu Shuanglin squatted on the soul-studded stage and finally lost his voice. The tears followed his ugly, distorted face and could not fall down. He rubbed the nucleus of Luo Fenghua, and finally cried so hoa.r.s.ely and heartbroken as if One inch of sound is dug out of the throat and blood.

"Teacher... Luo Fenghua..."

His organs are exhausted, and he is full of madness and hatred, distortion and longing, and a life-long game.

Is it ruined?

After he thought of Lingshan's sword, he was so full of resentment that his father was transferred to Nangongliu. He was unwilling and angry.

——

He still remembers the aging and pale face of his father's illness, and stared at him incredulously.

"The position of this head is mine." His hand was in the throat of his father, and he gathered it little by little. His expression was cold and awkward, and his eyes flashed with light. "The Confucianism is a hundred years old. If the father does not want to destroy, I have been taken care of by myself. You are old enough to rest."

"Float..."

He closed his eyes and did not allow his father to continue. Hearing the meridians in his hands, he only heard the heartbroken "squeaky", which was the abnormal sound of the broken pipe.

He took off the ring of the Confucianist door and put it on his lips.

The finger was cold, but it was cold but his face.

"I just want a fair, you don't give it to me, I will take it myself. Father, under Jiuquan, you don't have to hate me."

Turned around.

The scene changes in the memory.

It was the first night after he seized power. The servant was cleaning up the blood of the land after the war. His father was dead. The Nangong Liu family was also locked in the dungeon. All those who tried to resist him were suppressed. Everything was fixed, and he did not know what to do at the moment.

He gave birth to a stove in the yard and made tea from his own place. There was only one person in the court, and he rubbed the ring of the ring on his thumb.

Since then he has been the Lord of the Confucianism.

Lingshan Conference, those who calculate his outsiders naturally do not have to say more, look for opportunities to smash and kill, but he does not know how to put his big brother, but do not know how to put Luo Fenghua.

The twilight is getting deeper and the golden crow is sinking.

Seeing that the sky was getting dark, Xu Shuanglin finally made up his mind to see the detained brother and the master in the prison.

He took a few followers and walked halfway. The last trace of suns.h.i.+ne was swallowed up by the night. He snorted and suddenly felt a little cold, his head, and he was a little dizzy.

"Respect the Lord, what happened?"

Swinging to help his servant slave, Xu Shuanglin said: "No problem, suddenly remembered that something was not handled properly, I will go back to the hall first, you do not have to follow."

He suppressed the more and more obvious pain, put the hood of the cloak on, and strode toward the main hall of the Confucianism. In the end, I couldn’t hold it anymore. Rao was able to endure it again, and he couldn’t help but ran a section of the road, slammed the door in, and then closed the door.

"Respect the Lord?"

"You stand at the door and keep it, don't come in, don't move, if there is any abnormality, feel free to report to me."

After the guards told him to go down, Xu Shuanglin gasped and squatted to the depths of the hall and violently took off his hood. He looked down and found that his skin had been cracked and he was acne.

His first reaction was that his father cursed him.

Then I felt that it was impossible. The old man had already become ill, and he did not even have the strength to cast spells. How could G.o.d do this without knowing it?

That is how the matter?

It was too painful, the bones were broken, and the flesh was smas.h.i.+ng. He s.h.i.+vered at the window, the knuckles were pale and twisted, and he squatted on the ground and grabbed the red marks.

It’s really painful...

He did not dare to shout, nor dared to call the medical officer. The situation was not stable. How can he, as the owner of the rebels, reveal a half-inch weakness?

He kept on breathing in the hall, □ □, painful, rolling, convulsions. Kneeling, under the pain, he did not intend to tear down one side of the curtain and landed on him.

The moonlight outside the window was covered.

Suddenly he felt a sudden pain. He was cold and sweaty, shrinking under the curtain and gasping for a while. After a while, he thought that the pain had pa.s.sed, and then he pulled off the curtain and sat up straight, trying to stand up.

Who knows that the moonlight is s.h.i.+ning, but it is actually skin-opening, painful and painful.

Xu Shuanglin suddenly realized that he might not be able to s.h.i.+ne on the moon. So he squatted and climbed, struggling to close the window, hiding in the darkest place in the hall, reaching out and not seeing five fingers.

His breathing gradually calmed down.

The pain disappeared, and the **** flesh of the blood was also healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Xu Shuanglin felt guilty, so he draped his cloak tightly, and he didn't expose his flesh. He rushed to the library and looked through the middle of the night to find a record in his grandfather's book.

It turned out that the first generation of Confucianism, the head of the South Palace, Chang Ying, once fought with the shackles, although the final victory over the evil beasts, the town under the Golden Drum Tower, but in the midst of evil.

The ancient evil beast is yin, and it is closely related to the night and the moonlight. It curses the head of the Confucianist door. As long as the moonlight is seen, the flesh will be torn and painful.

And every moon night, the yin is the most prosperous, even if not in the moonlight, hiding in the darkest, it will be full of suffering.

So for centuries, this has always been the biggest secret of Confucianism, and the heads of all generations have been ignorant of it, lest anyone take the opportunity to take advantage of it, even if it is a biological son, it will not reveal the truth until the last moment.

It’s ironic.

He has spent a lot of time, and he got a bit of a sinful power.

On the second day, Xu Sulin came to the dungeon.

Nangong Liu and his wife Rong Rong were both inside, and another dark room was imprisoned by Luo Fenghua.

He did not go to see Luo Fenghua, first came to the prison of his brother.

"Ao! Abu! What are you doing? What are you doing?" When he saw him, Nangong Liu was extremely excited, but his hands and feet were sealed by curses. He couldn’t move at all. Kneeling on the ground, tears toward the younger brother, "Are you crazy? For a head position, do you want to do this?"

After a night of torture, Xu Shuanglin was still weak, and he smiled coldly: "I just took back what I deserved."

"..."

"You took my sword and destroyed my name. I was only twenty years old, Nangong Liu." He paused and his eyes were cold. "I am only twenty years old, and you let me see my life."

He slowly walked over and robbed his face, then leaned down and stared at his brother's face.

"Nan Gongliu, a waste like yours, has the power of ambition, wants to get ahead, what about me?" He said slowly, "I am more diligent than you, more talent than you, I have compared anything." You are nothing more than your tongue."

He pinched the chin of Nangong Liu, and pressed his fingers to open the closed mouth.

He stared at the slippery, sticky, reddish thing there.

"It’s a weapon to kill people without seeing blood. Cut it."

Nangong Liu stunned her eyes wide, but because her mouth was stuck, she couldn’t speak, she could only mourn and sigh.

"Do not cut?" Xu Shuanglin sneered, "You can also cut your tongue. Look at you, I am a brother, a painful killing of you, but also my hands."

When he slammed his hand, Nangong Liu burst into tears: "Don't kill me! Don't kill me! No, isn't that the Lingshan meeting? You, take me out, I am in the face of the whole world, me, I am still fair to you!"

"It’s late." Xu Shuanglin pulled out a white towel, rubbed his hand, and gave him a faint look. "What do you say now, everyone in the world will only reluctantly admit when you are under pressure from me?" The sewage that you poured on me can no longer be cleaned up."

Nangong Liu had not had time to talk, and he heard the voice of a woman next to her sharp knife.

"Nan Gongxu! I know that you have been wronged, but what are you doing now? Killing your father, robbing the head ring, now you have to marry your brother, you... how can you be so worried?"

"Oh, Rong s.h.i.+jie." Xu Shuanglin smiled slightly. "If you want to talk, I have forgotten that you are here."

Although Rong Rong was shackled by the curse, her look was stunned, but her eyes were tearful, but she was not weak: "I was at the beginning... I really misread you."

"You can't see what I can do?" Xu Shuanglin smiled. "The person who gave me the sachet was you. Later, the person who married Nangong Liu is also you. You are the one who took me first. Hey, now you have He Yan noodles told me about the old things? I would never want to tell me that you are involuntarily, is he forcing you?"

Rong Rong looked white and seemed to have something to say, but eventually he bit his lower lip and slowly closed his eyes.

Tears fell down her cheeks.

The knife is already in the hand, with a cold light.

"No... no... Abu, anything can be said, I can talk to you about anything... Don't kill me... Please, don't kill me..."

"Would you make a mistake in your position?" Xu Shuanglin wiped the blade, and there was still a sinister smile in his mouth. "Nan Gongliu, now I am the head, you are a prisoner, you have nothing in your hand, you want to follow me." Talk about the conditions? What is your chip, is your dog life?"

"I can give you a cow! You can... you can get a gra.s.s ring, I, I am willing to do anything! If you like, you can return it to you!"

Rong Rong suddenly opened his eyes and suddenly turned his head. It was extremely angry: "Nan Gong Liu!"

Nangong Liu was scared to be sifted. He ignored his wife, but he whimpered at his younger brother. "As long as you let me go... please let me go..."

"Get it." Xu Shuanglin lazily took a knife and patted his face. "Do you think that you have touched the orange, will I touch it again?"

"Then I can still - I can still -" Nangong Liu searched the intestines, but he couldn't think of anything. Only the tears and snots flowed, and finally he burst into tears. "Ax, we said, There are cakes to eat together, and there are roofs to climb together... We practice together, and we will go through the Yuanxiao with the teacher and learn to play the piano. In those days, you, have you forgotten?"

Xu Shuanglin’s face was so heavy that he only sneered and did not answer. The knife had been lifted, and he was half-squatting and swaying.

"what!!"

"Wait!!"

The cold blade hung from the neck of the Nangong Liu neck. In fact, Xu Sulin was not sure. Even if there were no such two calls, could his knife swing a few more inches.

But his face did not change, it was still faint: "What happened? The two last words are really much."