Article 633
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Xu Shuanglin grinned, her smile evil and sweet, with a kind of self-satisfaction that comes from playing tricks on others.
I lied to you.
The handwriting on the ball of paper was neat, straight, stroke by stroke, and serious. What is written is——
I hope that Luo Fenghua, Nangong Xu, and Nangong Liu can be friends and relatives throughout their lives, eating oranges together, sharing pastries together, and climbing on roofs together.
From the weak years, to the gray hair on the temples.
Chapter 228 [Jiaoshan] All in vain
On the soul-calling stage of the Confucianism Gate, Xu Shuanglin looked at the golden light floating in the night, and suddenly it looked like the paper he threw into the furnace on the snowy night of the Lantern Festival that year.
It burned to ashes in an instant, and only a few sparks remained, scalding him through the years.
Wang Luo Fenghua, Nangong Xu, and Nangong Liu.
Can be relatives and friends for life.
But Nangong Xu is no longer in the world, and now standing here is Xu Shuanglin, a madman, a devil, Xu Shuanglin who crawled back from the depths of hell to demand the lives of all decent people in the world.
There is no more Nangong Xu.
Just like his name, he is wandering and floating in the vast world.
As time passes by, the bones and tendons of the rocks are also broken.
Not to mention this tiny catkin.
So many years have passed, the willow trees are old, the maple blossoms are withered, and the catkins are floating all over the place. What I see is not flowers from the end of the world, but blood all over the mountains and plains, and overwhelming hatred.
But why, why could he still involuntarily transfer to Ye Wangxi everything Luo Fenghua had taught him back then? Why could he still feel compassion when he saw a true gentleman and a good person, and could no longer be ruthless?
Why……
Why are you crying?
Xu Shuanglin knelt on the soul-calling stage and finally burst into tears, tears streaming down his ugly, twisted face. He rubbed and held Luo Fenghua's soul core, finally crying until he was mute and choked with heart-wrenching tears, as if every time Every inch of sound was dug out of the throat and blood.
"Master...Luo Fenghua..."
He has exhausted all his tricks, he is full of madness and hatred, distortion and desire, and he has spent his whole life making a fool of himself.
Is it just ruined?
After he thought about Lingshan's sword debate, he was filled with resentment. Later, when his father was rumored to be in Nangongliu, he was unwilling to accept it and took the throne in anger.
——
He still remembered his father's old and pale face when he was ill, staring at him in disbelief.
"This position as head of the clan belongs to me." He put his hand around his father's throat, tightening it bit by bit, with a cold and cruel look on his face, and a sparkle in his eyes, "If my father doesn't want to destroy the Confucianism Sect's century-old legacy, , I should accept it freely. You are old and can rest."
"Xu'er..."
He closed his eyes and did not allow his father to continue talking. The meridians on his hands were bulging, and he could only hear a heart-breaking "click", which was the abnormal sound of a broken throat.
He took off the Rufengmen ring and put it to his lips.
The fingers were cold, but not as cold as his face.
"I just want justice. If you don't give it to me, I will get it myself. Father, you don't have to hate me."
Turn around and go out.
The scene changes in the memory.
It was the first night after he usurped the throne. The servants were cleaning up the blood on the ground after the war. His father was dead, and Nangong Liu's family was also imprisoned in a water prison. All those who tried to resist him were suppressed. Everything was settled, but he didn't know what to do for a moment.
He lit a stove in the yard and cooked tea by himself. He was the only one in the courtyard, stroking the shining leader ring on his thumb.
From then on, he was the lord of the Confucianism Sect.
Needless to say, those outsiders who plotted against him in the Lingshan Conference would chop them into pieces and kill them all if they found an opportunity, but he didn't know how to deal with his eldest brother, let alone Luo Fenghua.
The dusk is getting darker and the golden crows are sinking in the west.
Seeing that the sky was getting dark, Xu Shuanglin finally made up his mind to go to the water prison to see his brother and master who were detained.
He took a few followers with him and walked halfway. The last ray of sunlight was swallowed up by the dark night. He shivered and suddenly felt a little cold and his head was a little dizzy.
"Lord, what's wrong?"
Waving away the servant who came to help him, Xu Shuanglin said: "It's okay. I suddenly remembered that something was not handled properly. I will go back to the main hall first. You don't have to follow me."
He suppressed the increasingly obvious pain, put on the hood of his cloak, and strode towards the main hall of Rufeng Sect. In the end, he couldn't hold it any longer. No matter how much he could bear it, he couldn't bear to run for a while, pushed the door open and went in, and then closed the palace door tightly.
"Lord?"
"Stand guard at the door. You are not allowed to come in. You are not allowed to move rashly. If anything unusual happens, report to me at any time."
After giving the instructions to the guard, Xu Shuanglin panted and staggered to the depths of the hall, and suddenly took off his hood. When he looked down, he found that his skin and flesh were all chapped, and there were hideous scars everywhere he looked.
His first reaction was that his father had cursed him.
Then he thought it was impossible. The old man was already terminally ill and didn't even have the strength to cast spells. How could he do such a thing without anyone noticing.
That is how the matter?
The pain was too much, the muscles and bones were broken, and the skin was hideous. He kept convulsing and shaking by the window, his knuckles were pale and twisted,
He lay on the ground and scratched out red marks.
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