The body of life flows around, and the changes are not uniform. It may roar first and then laugh, or it may be good and end misfortune, it may come without being summoned, or it may help others. Intertwined and entangled, relying on cycles, it cannot be solved in one way or tested in one way. ——Liu Jun's "The Theory of Destiny"
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In the ninth year of Xinning, at the Cangling Gate Taoist Ceremony, Xuan Xingli gave Song Wuyan a grand burial, and his long-cherished wish came true.
Before he could be happy, his eyes darkened and brightened again, and he was back to the age of soy sauce. A hundred years of poor life will become a wrong payment, and everything will turn around and be read again.
Although Song Wuyan, as the first disciple and future leader of Cangling, was not easy to kill, since he could kill him once, he could also kill him a second time.
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I have always wanted to know, what will you do after you kill me?
How can you give them a satisfactory explanation for killing the senior brother of the Canling Sect who is so famous in the eyes of everyone?
Will you be injured? Will he die?
If you can escape unscathed, will you think of me?
Song Wuyan wanted to ask a lot about Xuan Xingli. These questions became more and more serious in the seemingly endless reincarnation. At the same time, his hatred, pain, and love were also aggravated.
But he couldn't ask. Every reincarnation is a new beginning for everyone except him. Xuan Xingli looked at him with amber eyes, a look that only belonged to the young Xuan Xingli.
Xuan Xingli can't remember. I don't remember every time.
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However, the wind in Canngling started blowing again.
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