Chapter 33 Chapter 3 The Old Man Sharpening the Knife

In the evening, the sun is already westward, and the twilight is low. The plum grove is full of the cold and damp fragrance of plum blossoms, and there are still fallen flowers in the last autumn in the soil. Foggy. The light mist floats in the merry grove and beside the stream. Yang Zheng was still sitting in front of the grave, his gaze was still so empty. The figure in the fog is approaching, it is an old man. It's an old man who looks like a Japanese. White coarse cloth short robe, tied with a black belt, hemp woven shoes on a pair of muddy feet. His hair was loose, his face was full of bitterness of years, he was carrying a worn-out bundle in his hand, but there were two swords stuck in his waist.

The old man staggered to the side of the grave, slowly put down the burden, slowly untied it, slowly picked up a whetstone in the burden, put it on the ground, and slowly untied the two swords around his waist. The sound of "clang" sounded, and the sword's edge shone with golden light in the setting sun. The old man stroked the edge of the sword with his thumb and shook his head in dissatisfaction. After splashing water on the whetstone, the old man squatted down, sharpening the sword carefully. The old man appeared, untied and sharpened his sword, but Yang Zheng didn't seem to notice, his person still didn't move, his gaze was still dim.

The old man didn't look at him either, he just focused on sharpening his sword, as if he came here just to sharpen his sword and ignored other things. Fog in the sunset? Sunset in the fog? The setting sun is bright red and the fog is soft. The light mist wetted Yang Zheng's hair, brushed his eyebrows, and slowly condensed into drops of water. The water droplets reflected the setting sun, emitting a golden brilliance, flickering indefinitely. There was also sweat on the old man's forehead. It was sweat from exertion. Beads of sweat flowed down the wrinkles and fell into the mud.

The old sword grinder was still sharpening his sword with his head bowed, all his energy had been concentrated on this not very expensive sword in his hand. Grind the first one, and replace it with the second one. The sharpened sword lay beside it, its edge gleaming in the afterglow of the setting sun. Both swords have finally been sharpened. The old man breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. If he came here to sharpen his sword, now that the sword has been sharpened, it's time to leave. But looking at his appearance, it seems that he has no intention of leaving.

Yang Zheng didn't seem to want to move, his posture was still the same as before the old man came, and he didn't even move his eyes. The old sword grinder finally stood up, holding a sharpened sword in one hand, then turned to face the setting sun, with his back to Yang Zheng who was sitting. Yu Hui met the old man's face, and took a clearer picture of his marks left by the years. The old man suddenly smiled, swung his left hand suddenly, and the sword in his palm flew up into the setting sun and into Yang Zheng's hand. It flew into Yang Zheng's right hand, as if someone sent it with both hands.

Take the sword, shake it, and the sword will bloom. The light flickered, and the person stood up. Yang Zheng stared at the sword in his hand, the sword's edge was facing the setting sun, and its brilliance flashed. The old man returned his sword and stabbed at Yang Zheng along the setting sun. The movement was sudden, and the sword move was fierce. Yang Zheng raised his sword, blocked it, and swept away. The sword wind breaks through the air, like a complaining woman. People and shadows cherish each other, like a monkey playing with a tree. The swords exchanged, sparks flashed like meteors, and disappeared like meteors.

The old man's sword moves are pungent, Yang Zheng defuses them with the sword. One sword stabs and one sword undoes, the sword is deadly, the sword is drawn. The sword is full of energy, the plum blossoms wither, and when they fall, they will shatter, and when they are broken, they will flutter with the wind, far away, and float into the stream. Float into nothingness. The fallen flowers have been tuned, broken, and floating. It has also fallen, into the soil. The figures intertwined, the swords' edges thwarted each other, and the light died. The tip of the sword hangs down, but the person does not move.

In an instant, the two had exchanged sixty-four moves. Eighty-eight sixty-four. The wrinkles on the old man's face seemed to have deepened again, he suddenly sighed, and said something that no one expected him to say. "Yang Hen's son really deserves to be Yang Hen's son." Yang Zheng turned around, facing the old and frail sword-grinding old man, and suddenly said something surprising. "thanks." The old man looked at him. "You look exactly the same now as when I saw him." The old man said, "Even your temper is the same." "yes?"

"yes." The old man sharpening his sword seems to have sunk into his memory. "That was a long, long time ago. At that time, he was younger than you are now, and he was still learning how to use a sword, and how to make a sword." The old man was intoxicated and said: "His master Shao Kongzi's sword skills are not good It is good, but the kung fu of making swords can be called the best in the world." He sighed again. "It's a pity that your father's ambition is not to make swords, so Master Shao's sword making skills will never be handed down."

"My father has been dead for a long time, and he often regretted it when he was alive." Yang Zheng said: "He often told me that if what he learned was not the art of fighting, but the art of making swords, this life must be very happy. .” The old man sharpening his sword was suddenly sad. "Time flies, things change people, people have their own destiny, and no one can force it." The old man looked at the sword in his hand. "It's like a sword." Yang Zheng understood, but the old man still had to explain. "The sword also has the fate of the sword, and he is the same as a person, there are good and bad." The old man said: "I went to visit Shao Kongzi that time, just to have a look at his newly refined sword spirit for him. null."

"Ling Kong?" Yang Zheng said. "It's a fierce sword, and the wearer will definitely bring bad luck, and there may even be a disaster of family destruction." The old man said, "So Shao Kongzi immediately destroyed the sword. Then he used the remaining iron of the broken sword to make a sword as thin as a sword." paper knife." "gentle." "Yes, that knife is called gentleness." The old man said, "The knife was replaced by Ying Wuwu with a broken ancient sword manual." Yang Zheng's face suddenly changed, and he thought of that mysterious, wonderful and terrifying thing about his father again. "It is said that the left half of the sword manual has been burned, so every move in the sword manual is only half a move, and it is impossible to practice swordsmanship," the old man said. "I know." "Later, Yang Hen used a strange hook to rule the world," said the old man, "The moves he used came from that incomplete sword manual." "Because the moves in that sword book are incomplete, even though you can't practice them with a sword, you can practice them with an incomplete and deformed sword, but you can practice an unprecedented move. Every move is completely out of the ordinary. No one can predict a single move." Yang Zheng said: "So once it is launched, few people can resist it." "The incomplete and deformed sword is the parting hook." The old man said, "It is the sword that Mr. Lan Yichen entrusted Shao Kongzi to forge with one of the god-tie elites, Mr. Lan Da, but failed." "yes." "God's will." The old man said, "Make up for the incomplete with the incomplete, and fill in the incomplete with the incomplete. With that incomplete sword manual, there will be that incomplete sword." A very strange expression suddenly appeared in the old man's eyes, and he continued: "This is not God's will, maybe it is Shao Kongzi's own will." Yang Zheng was speechless. "Yuanwei already had the incomplete sword manual, so he made that incomplete sword on purpose and left it for his only disciple." The old man sighed. "His own swordsmanship is not good, but he can make his disciple a swordsman who can rule the world. It can be regarded as seeking benevolence and gaining benevolence. He will die without regret." Yang Zheng was astonished, as if there was a chill in his bones, and it took a long time before he said: "The tenderness is in the hands of Ying Wuwu's only disciple." Yang Zheng stared into the distance. "Hereditary first-class Marquis Di Qinglin." "Killing with gentleness, the wound cannot be seen from the outside, and the blood cannot flow out." The old man said, "But the person who is assassinated will definitely die immediately because of the massive internal bleeding, and he will die without salvation." "There is no trace, there is no substance, it is as fast as electricity, and as soft as hair." Yang Zheng said: "My father once told me that it is best not to see that gentleness in my life." "Softness can control rigidity." The old man stared at him. "You probably don't understand why I want you to let Di Qinglin take the parting hook." "Yes." Yang Zheng said, "I don't understand why you want me to do this?" "In that battle twenty years ago, you should have been the one who lost." The old man said, "Di Qinglin was defeated because he was too arrogant, because he underestimated you and the parting hook. parting." "Gentleness can control parting," "Yes." The old man said, "The parting hook is like a piece of steel, strong and violent. Only a person like your father is worthy of using a parting hook." The old man swallowed his saliva, and then said: "The tenderness of a young girl's feelings is not useless, so he passed the tenderness to Di Qinglin." The old man said: "Gentleness is given to a passionate person. If Di Qinglin knows how to control gentleness, then he will be invincible in the world." Yang Zheng remained silent. "Twenty years ago he was defeated, and twenty years later he will definitely deal with parting with tenderness." "Parting must not be able to deal with tenderness?" Yang Zheng asked. "Definitely." The old man said: "If the parting hook is still in your hands, you will lose this battle and die." "Without the parting hook, can I defeat him?" "cannot." "No one in this world can deal with tenderness empty-handed." "I will lose this battle." "uncertain." Yang Zheng didn't understand what he meant, so he looked at him with wide eyes. The old man looked up to the sky, the sky was red, and the setting sun was like blood. A strange expression suddenly appeared on his haggard, old and tired face, and his voice also had a strange tone. "Since there is a Gentle Knife and a Parting Hook, there must be a third one." "The third one?" Yang Zheng asked. "Yes." said the old man. "What is it called? Why does no one know its whereabouts?" "There are legends in the rivers and lakes that Shao Kongyu did not hesitate to sacrifice himself because he failed to forge Mr. Lan Da's piece of elite iron into a sword." The old man said, "Actually, that was wrong, so Shao Kong died with his body, but It was the third sword that died." "why?" "When tenderness and parting came out, it seemed that there was a force in the dark, asking Shao Kongzi to fuse the remnants of tenderness and the remnants of parting, and then add the blood of the martyrs who fought in the most tragic battle in Taihang Mountain back then, to cast That third one." "What kind of weapon is the third one?" "Sword." The old man stared at him. "It's a sword." "Sword?" Yang Zheng asked, "What's it called?" "Rage Sword." "The name of the sword is Fury," "yes." The old man's eyes suddenly brightened like a sword's edge, and he slashed into the distance like a sword's edge. "When the third sword was cast, the light lines on the sword body were like silk, and the light lines on the tip shot like fire." The old man said, "And when this sword was just out of the oven, the heavens, earth, gods and ghosts were all angry, and the sky The thunder roared, and the spring rain was half a month earlier." "When the sword is released, the spring rain will fall early?" "Yes." The old man said, "That's why the sword of anger is also called spring anger." "Spring Fury?" Yang Zheng asked again: "Then where is this sword now?" "This sword is originally an ominous thing, like a person born with deformities, born with evil spirits, so once the sword is forged, Master Shao will sacrifice his life to accompany the third sword." "Where is it buried?" "A horrible place."