Qingyake

In the frost of that year, an old man holding a knife stood outside the door for half a stick of incense, then left these words and left. In the yard, a dozen children stood close to the wooden posts. In the corridor, the master wiped the weapons rack, and passed around the black sheathed sword at the top - that sword had been left unsheathed for thirty years. No one answered. Sixteen-year-old Lu Qingya didn't understand. Later, he went down the mountain carrying a half-cut knife - the master broke it in front of him. There were two other things in the baggage: a pair of wristbands with three layers of stitches, which he thought were issued by the same team; and a copper buckle, which fell on the third step of the stone steps, and he thought who had left it. On the third step, he stopped and turned back. The master sat without raising his head. He opened his mouth but didn't scream. The first night after going down the mountain, he almost died in an alley. The kung fu practiced in the gym is beautiful. There was no sound when it landed, and the whole hall was cheering. Master only said two words: It looks good. But Jianghu doesn't want to look good, Jianghu is fatal. He took apart the kung fu and practiced it again, practicing his master's stupidest tricks: wait, endure, stop. After killing each person, wash your hands with cold water until they turn red. Ten years. He beat back those who had forced the tavern to disperse one by one, and retrieved those who were scattered in all directions one by one. But those who were found were no longer the same people as before. He stood in the empty martial arts arena, with no one to hit the four piles. What he wanted to find back was never a martial arts gym. While I was practicing, someone stood behind me and watched. The brass buckle hadn't fallen off—someone had unscrewed the buckle from his boot and dumped it where he would step on it. On the flesh side of the wristbands, there was a word embroidered in red thread. It had been embroidered for ten years, but he didn't see it. The day he turned back, the third level of the stone steps,