Chapter 251: The End of the Smoke and Water
Hongluo made a high mountain, and the vital energy filled its bellies. Suddenly, the divine power was achieved, and it stood tall and majestic in the vastness.

In midsummer, Mount Xiyue is lush and green.

On the Yunu Peak, a waterfall after the rain rushes down the cliff like a white dragon in the mountains, and the water vapor rises continuously, bringing a cool breeze.

Accompanied by the chirping of cicadas, there are occasional flickering fireflies.

Two teenagers were climbing a mountain together, and in front of them was a little girl.

She has pigtails and big, bright eyes.

Climb up the stairs without anyone’s help, and stagger upwards.

She was mumbling a lot of things, and it was hard to hear her clearly to begin with. The sound of the mountain waterfall was getting louder and louder, and I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

Only when I saw the newly renovated wooden building below the Yunu Peak Waterfall did I hear her calling “Daddy”.

The two young men at the back looked up at the same time.

I saw two people sitting opposite each other and chatting happily in the wooden building.

There were two long swords placed next to them, perhaps they had just been used in a sword fight.

The shorter boy then pulled the little girl and shouted “Daddy”.

Then he respectfully called out “Uncle Master”.

At this time, a young man above turned his head, smiled and nodded.

The slightly taller boy also greeted the two elders, then picked up a few wine jars and went up to the wooden building and placed them on the stone table.

As soon as the wine was served, a middle-aged man who looked to be about 40 years old, handsome and carefree, immediately smiled.

Linghu Chong looked at the wine jar and asked with a smile:

“Yuzhen, where did this wine come from?”

Zhao Yuzhen said respectfully, “My mother asked us to bring this up.”

Linghu Chong glanced at Zhao Rong and said with a smile:

“Brother Rong, every time you come to Huashan, I ask you to bring wine up the mountain. How can I do that?”

“Then I won’t bring it next time.”

Zhao Rong responded, and Linghu Chong immediately showed disappointment. He touched the wine jar and regretted what he had just said.

Seeing this, Zhao Rong teased, “You really haven’t changed at all.”

“I came to visit a good friend and brought some wine to meet him. There is no need to distinguish between Huashan and Hengshan so clearly.”

After hearing this, Linghu Chong nodded happily.

At this time, the little girl called for daddy again, and Linghu Chong picked her up and played with her.

Zhao Rong watched with a smile from the side.

After a while, he asked his son to take his sister down the mountain.

Looking at the backs of his two children, Jiumengzi raised his glass again, his face filled with a loving smile that he had never had before.

“Now that he has both a son and a daughter, and is a world-renowned senior master, Brother Linghu can be said to have a perfect life.”

Zhao Rong raised his glass and drank with him, feeling happy for his good friend.

Linghu Chong wanted to thank him.

But when he thought about their many years of friendship, why should they be so distant? He simply drank three bowls of the honey wine that Zhao Rong brought, took a long breath of the wine, and felt more heroic.

“I heard that you went to the Western Regions.”

“Yes.”

“Is it because of the Mayue Cult?”

Zhao Rong nodded slightly: “It’s not a big deal.”

Linghu Chong showed curiosity, “Who is that leader?”

“His name is Shangguan Hong, the son of the former Eagle Knight Shangguan Yun. Shangguan Yun died on the Fengshan Terrace at the top of Mount Song. Shangguan Hong took advantage of the fact that the Black Wood Cliff was ownerless and stole the Sunflower Manual with the purple-robed waiter. They also took the remaining fragments to the Western Regions and fled to Persia.”

Zhao Rong satisfied his curiosity and patiently told the story:

“There is a great religion in Persia called Manichaeism, which once brought the Holy Fire to the Central Plains. Now its martial arts are declining. Shangguan Hong is a genius. With the help of the Central Plains martial arts thoughts and the fragments of the treasure book, he sorted out the Manichaeism martial arts and rekindled the Holy Fire.”

“Change Manichaeism to Moyueism, and then establish the Demon Sect.”

“After the rise of the Moyue Sect, the Fire was gradually passed on to the White Camel Villa and the Vulture Peak, opening up a new atmosphere in the Western Regions martial arts world. He was known as the Fire Transmission Sect Leader.”

Linghu Chong laughed out loud after hearing this:
“I see.”

“However, Brother Rong, you think so highly of him, but you forget that the source of the prosperity of martial arts today is all due to you. If you hadn’t spread martial arts throughout the world, no matter how capable he is, he wouldn’t be able to spread this fire to the Western Regions.”

Hearing him say this, Zhao Rong did not deny it.

“I wonder what this Fire Master said to you after meeting you?”

“The Mayue Sect has been causing chaos in the Central Plains. I had some thoughts of raising an army to punish them, but I didn’t expect that this person was actually a big shot. As soon as he saw me, he pretended to be a junior and showed me the teachings and martial arts manuals of the Mayue Sect.”

“He said that his original intention was to lead his followers onto the right path, but he was limited by the general environment and had his own difficulties.”

Zhao Rong shook his head: “I don’t believe his words, let alone any oaths, but…”

Linghu Chong smiled and continued:

“I am just a sword god of my generation, I don’t want to attack a junior.

It seems that the leader of the Fire Sect was well prepared and had the worst-case scenario in mind. When you arrived, he simply admitted his mistake and did not dare to use force.

What a smart guy.

If you make a move, the fire will be extinguished by the sword energy.”

“Just as you said. I immediately lost interest and did not kill anyone from the Moyue Sect.” Upon hearing this, Linghu Chong looked at Zhao Rong deeply. As an old friend, he understood Zhao Rong’s temper very well.

“These people made you unhappy, so you just let them go so easily?”

Zhao Rong smiled:
“I left a trail of sword energy in front of the gate of the Moyue Sect.”

He said it lightly, and Linghu Chong showed an expression that showed it was just as he expected.

I thought that this sword might cut the family’s gate in half.

From then on, whenever the believers entered or left the gate, they would see the sword hanging over their heads, which was extremely stressful.

The two drank a few more glasses of wine.

Zhao Rong looked towards the Siguo Cliff and said, “Let’s go up and take a look.”

Linghu Chong nodded, knowing what he was going to do.

They went up the mountain path for seven or eight miles and arrived at the back cliff of Siguo Cliff, facing a tomb.

“Mr. Feng, I come to visit you again.”

“Uncle Taishi.”

The two men bowed deeply to each other. Zhao Rong held the wine glass while Linghu Chong held the jar and poured the wine. Zhao Rong took two steps forward and poured the wine onto a rusty sword beside the tomb.

There was a stubborn stone in front of the tomb. As usual, they raised their sleeves to sweep away the dust and sat on it.

They were drinking and talking at this time, and they were very close to Mr. Feng, so it seemed that the old man could hear them.

When he was in high spirits, he invited Mr. Feng to have a drink.

Although we are separated by life and death, it seems as if we are penetrated by this friendship that transcends age difference.

“Grandmaster Uncle always talked about you in his later years. He cared more about you than me, his disciple.”

Zhao Rong laughed a few times, “You love wine, but Mr. Feng is obsessed with swords.”

“I am a sword friend to him, so what’s so strange about him being better than you, his disciple?”

Linghu Chong thought what he said made sense.

At this time, he raised his cup towards the tomb, and after drinking it all, he said, “Uncle Taishi, this young friend of yours really understands you.”

“Every few years, he comes here to have a drink and chat with us. It’s really a joy in life.”

He turned to Zhao Rong and said:
“Grandmaster Uncle has felt the sword power of the Sword Demon and once said that he was invincible and lonely. For this reason, he left a letter for you. It has been with me for more than 20 years.”

“Brother Rong, do you want to take a look?”

Zhao Rong thought for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled at the grave:

“Mr. Feng, you are obsessed with swords, but you have a very delicate heart.”

“but.”

“I don’t think I need to read this letter.”

On the Cliff of Repentance, Linghu Chong’s joyful and carefree laughter suddenly rang out.

“What loneliness, what sadness.
“Life is brilliant, and there is always a place to rest.”

“Brother Rong’s words are what Grand Master Uncle wants to hear the most.”

“Come on, have a drink!”

Linghu Chong was full of heroic spirit and picked up the jar of wine to invite Zhao Rong. Zhao Rong smiled and shook his head, but also picked up a jar of wine.

“Dry.”

The two of them held the jar and drank deeply. The wine was finished, but their heroic and carefree spirit could never end.

Linghu Chong poured out the empty jar, his eyes full of regret.

At this moment, he suddenly looked towards the direction of the mountain path.

There are footsteps coming
I heard some people calling him “Senior Brother” and others calling him “Brother Rong”.

Two beautiful figures also climbed up to the Cliff of Repentance.

When Linghu Chong saw the wine jars they were carrying, he excitedly exclaimed “Great”.

After a while, the lifeless and green Siguo Cliff was
Just like back then, it was filled with laughter.

Soon, someone was heard singing impromptu.

There is also a flute playing the song “Swordsman”
……

……

……

At this point, the extra chapter will be discontinued.

As I write this, I feel very complicated. The author is a sensitive person with a low tear point. After writing this story, I couldn’t control my tears, as if I also heard Mr. Mo Da’s Xiaoxiang Night Rain.

Originally I wanted to write about the old Sword God in the extra chapter.

But when I wrote in my later years, although the works were legendary, they were more tragic. After much thought, I decided to give up.

This world of “Swordsman” still exists, but Arong has already escaped from the author’s pen.

What his future will be like is all in everyone’s imagination.

The smoke and water are vast, from ancient times to the present.

Goodbye, Arong.
Dear book friends, thank you for your continued company.

I wish you success in the world.

(End of this chapter)