Chapter 294

"Meals are brought in by her personal old woman, and we have secretly asked that old woman, but her mouth is very tight; she won't say what she won't say, and she even warned us not to spread rumors." "Is she that rare?"

"That's right. People are so precious, they can't even be exposed to the sun. Unlike us, who go through wind and rain."

The other farm woman sighed: "Actually, we are still doing okay. The things grown in our village are sold to the Li family in the south, so we don't have to worry about sales, and we can still mix a full meal in this famine year. Look at other places in the township; people are almost all gone."

Aunt Liu hissed: "Could that noble woman be from the Li family? Look at how the village chief treats her like an ancestor."

The two chatted for a few sentences, then suddenly felt drops of rain on their heads, looked up, and saw dark clouds bringing rain pressing over.

The weather in the mountains is like a child's face, changing several times a day, so the two had to pack up their things and rush home.

Before they had walked a few steps, dozens of riders rushed along the mountain road, and the leading rider reined in his horse and looked down at them: "Two aunts, how do you get to Benlei Village?"

Her companion opened her mouth to answer, but Aunt Liu pulled her and said vigilantly: "Who are you?"

The rider grabbed his waist token and flashed it in front of the two: "Official business from Xiazhou Prefecture, please cooperate."

A faint light flashed on that waist token. Although the two Aunt Lius were illiterate, they had heard that officials all had a practical and glowing treasure called the Sheji Order.

The waist token the rider took out carried an intimidating majesty.

Seeing these thirty-plus riders fully armed, Aunt Liu felt weak in her heart and had no choice but to point to the west: "Follow the road for a mile and you'll be there."

The rider whistled, and the thirty-plus people galloped toward the west.

At this time, the heavy rain came down with a splash.

Aunt Liu and her companion hugged their washing tubs, shrank their heads, and walked quickly home, one foot in mud and one foot in water.

The two were unusually quiet, unlike their usual cursing.

What exactly were those thirty-plus riders going to Benlei Village to do? Was it really just official business?

After a few breaths, the wind and rain were so strong that people couldn't even open their eyes.

They had no choice but to walk slower and slower.

When the two finally returned to the village entrance, they saw the group of riders they had just met coming toward them, as if they had finished their business and intended to leave Benlei Village.

Unlike before, there was an extra carriage in the team.

The carriage was surrounded by riders, as if escorting or transporting it.

Despite the heavy rain, the villagers also gathered to watch the excitement. Aunt Liu saw that the place with the most people was the village chief's house, and couldn't help but exclaim: "They really came to find the village chief!"

Everyone in Benlei Village knew each other, so she grabbed a farmer who was watching the excitement: "Brother Li, what happened at the village chief's house?"

"It seems official runners came and took away several people from the village chief's house, saying they were hiding wanted criminals!"

"Wanted criminals? What kind of wanted criminals could they be?" Aunt Liu immediately thought of the so-called noble woman.

Another villager on the side said: "It seems someone died inside! I just saw blood on the ground!"

Aunt Liu exclaimed: "Someone died at the village chief's house?"

"It seems it's not someone from the village chief's house..."

But this word spread, and soon it became: many people died at the village chief's house.

On the front lines of the two armies, it was also pouring rain.

The usually noisy military camp was quiet, everyone was hiding in their tents, and only the guards on duty were standing outside the tents and on the sentry towers, letting the rain pour on them.

Thieves are particular about stealing in the wind and not in the moonlight, stealing in the rain and not in the snow; in fact, it's the same for armies launching surprise attacks.

This kind of stormy weather is conducive to opponents taking advantage of the situation to launch a surprise attack, so they have to be on guard.

So the Yuan army was actually on edge, carefully on guard.

The waves of the Hanhe River began to rage from the afternoon, and the soldiers carefully stayed away from the shoreline, fearing that the riverbank would suddenly collapse.

Only Young Master He, the Young Master He who didn't die if he didn't seek death, saw the water level rising and the waves surging, laughed, and took his sword into the water.

This scared everyone quite a bit; the garrison soldiers went to report it, and Zhao Pan, fearing that the beloved son of Chief He would die in his camp, hurriedly sent someone to notify him.

He Chunhua also slapped the table and stood up, preparing to drag this wicked son back and give him a good scolding. Fortunately, at this time, Shan Youjun returned to explain, saying that the young master was about to break through and needed to practice sword techniques in the river.

What kind of sword technique can't be practiced on the shore or on flat ground, but has to be practiced in the water where the waves are strong?

"Is he for real? What sword technique is he practicing?"

Shan Youjun replied: "The young master said it's as real as it gets; he's practicing the Wave-Slaying Blade."

He Chunhua thought for a moment and sat down slowly: "You go and watch him. If something happens, I'll hold you responsible!"

"The young master has a rope tied around his waist." Shan Youjun smiled, "If he gets washed away, we can pull him ashore."

He Chunhua had no choice but to agree.

Zhao Pan shook his head secretly when he heard this result.

This Chief He is shrewd and has a good brain, so why is he so indulgent toward his own son? Forget it, anyway, he had fulfilled his duty to remind him, and he wouldn't care about the aftermath.

Over there, He Lingchuan saw the surging waves, took off his coat, grabbed the Floating Life Blade, and went into the water.

He wasn't brainless; he still found a hard rock to stand on.

What is the name of the sword technique he practices? Wave-Slaying, right.

This sword technique, he had practiced diligently for several months in reality + dream, and had made great progress in the "fast, steady, accurate" mantra. This is because Wave-Slaying itself can be combined with the Swallow-Returning movement technique he practices to become the Swallow-Returning Slash.

As light as a swallow, his blade can be as swift.

However, he couldn't grasp the continuous, majestic spirit of the sword technique.

After all, this sword technique is called "Wave-Slaying," and if you insist on slaying without waves, the practice effect will definitely be discounted.

He Lingchuan had also tried taking the blade into the big lake in the Panlong dream; the water was deep enough, but he complained that it wasn't "wavy" enough, and it was freezing cold.

Now that he had this heaven-sent opportunity, how could he not cherish it? The force of the water flow was getting stronger and stronger. The first few dozen times he swung the blade to slash the water, not only was it ineffective, but he was also tilted, his feet slipped, and he didn't know how much water he had swallowed.

The guards above pointed and gestured, all laughing at the fool below.

But gradually, He Lingchuan didn't stumble as much, even though the rock under his feet had been washed smooth.

The true power usually nurtured in his dantian operated efficiently, sinking into his feet, making his stance as firm as a rock.

Afterwards, his blade swings became slower and slower.

Slow, to be steady; slow, to be continuous.

Slow, the blade body receives a stronger impact.

When the water flow passed by him in a whirlpool, He Lingchuan began to recall the few shots fired by Commander Xiao Maoliang against the giant Meng Shan in the Jieqing River Valley, which were truly as swift as thunder and unstoppable.

And Nian Songyu, possessed by a god, fought the Black Flood Dragon in the Panlong illusion; that sword technique was also open and closed, domineering and leaking.

And when he recited the Wave-Slaying mantra, what he wanted to carefully experience with the help of the environment was the ups and downs of the waves, continuous and endless, formless yet powerful.

One after another, muddy yellow waves hit him; He Lingchuan had never felt the pain of being pushed, squeezed, and torn from all directions.

This is perhaps the essence of Wave-Slaying: the application of "force."

When he was determined and unremitting, slashing out the sixty-seventh blade, the waves rushing toward him seemed to pause slightly, and the impact on him was greatly reduced.

However, Shan Youjun above was already pointing to the west and shouting: "Master, come up quickly, a giant wave is coming!"

Immediately after, a wave hit He Lingchuan on the forehead, already submerging him.

Pfft, he swallowed a mouthful of water, sheathed the blade, and pulled the rope. He was here to practice the blade, not to really jump into the river.

The personal guards on the shore worked together to drag him up.

He Lingchuan was soaked all over, and just as he shook his head, a big wave swept across the riverbank, and with a bang, the rock he had been standing on was buried at the bottom of the water.

This wave was too big, and everyone hurriedly retreated.

The Hanhe River was originally clear, but the big wave rushing down from the west carried countless mud, sand, soil, stones, and branches, as wild as a yellow dragon.

The ground under his feet also trembled because of this force. He Lingchuan leaned on the blade, silently feeling the violence of the Great River, also feeling his heart surging, as if resonating.

Water has no constant form but has power, just like the blade intent he realized.

Rainwater flowed down his forehead to his chin; He Lingchuan pressed his hand on the hilt of the blade at his waist and suddenly slashed out a blade diagonally forward.

The small tree directly in front was still dancing wildly in the strong wind, its branches swaying, but not a single branch fell off.

His blade speed wasn't fast, and his strike was still crooked.

Shan Youjun and the others didn't say anything, but a sentry not far away couldn't help but laugh.

Is this Young Master He a silver-gun wax candle head? Slashing water in the rain, and then showing off again after coming up, but not even a leaf was slashed off; it's too funny.

I thought standing guard by the river was dangerous and boring, but who knew I could watch a show today.

He Lingchuan sheathed his blade with a clang, smiled at them, and turned to leave.

They had walked five or seven zhang away, and the two sentries were still chatting and laughing, when they heard a muffled "crack."

They looked back and saw a piece of ground larger than a round table on the bank suddenly crack; first a seam, then a trench, and then, this piece of hard mud fell directly into the rushing river water.

This piece of ground was about a zhang behind the small tree that He Lingchuan had slashed at.

The two stopped laughing and looked at each other.

Could it be that Young Master He's blade energy passed through the wildly dancing small tree and cut the bank behind it? It hadn't rained all winter, so one can imagine how hard the ground on the water bank was. How much force it took to cut it.

Besides, the small tree's hundreds of branches were dancing in the wind; could the blade energy pass through them without hurting them at all? This is a coincidence, right? It must be.

He Lingchuan couldn't be bothered with what the two were thinking; after slashing that blade according to the situation and time, his spirit was clear, his energy was refreshed, and even his breathing became smoother, and the feeling of stagnation from soaking in the water was swept away.

Can he slash another blade?

Hard to say, he didn't know either.

On this occasion of coincidence, he didn't dare to say that his cultivation or realm had improved, but at least he had broken through his blade intent, making himself more rounded.

The Wave-Slaying technique had taken a small step forward.

Just waiting for him to strengthen and consolidate it as soon as possible.

Therefore, he returned to the tent lightly all the way, humming a little tune.

But when passing by the main military tent, he seemed to hear an argument coming from inside, including the voice of his father, He Chunhua.

He Lingchuan didn't think much and was about to dive in.

The soldier guarding the tent refused him: "Stop, no entry without a summons!"

He Lingchuan couldn't be bothered to argue with him and shouted: "Old man!"

"Chuan'er?" He Chunhua's voice came out, "Come in!"

(End of chapter)