Chapter 270: [Tian Yin Ge] will be sentenced to punishment
The three-day deadline was fleeting. When the dawn dawned on the third day, the teacher came to the secret room.
Stepping on the fairy has been worn, still a black armor, the waist is thin and thin with a silvery dark box, the legs are slender, the shoulders are wide, the hands are wearing a scales, and the wrist is tied with a thousand shackles. .
He raised his eyes and his eyes were cold: "You are here."
"Ready, let's go to Tianyin Pavilion."
"You don't have to prepare, go."
The teacher looked at him: "So what is the late night?"
"Hey he took the medicine and slept."
The teacher nodded, but for the sake of prevention, he and Teng Xianjun re-entered the secret room once. After the diagnosis, the teacher said: "His energy will almost completely recover in these days, be careful."
Stepping on the battle against Chu’s fighting power is not afraid, but asks: “What about memory?”
The teacher gave him a look: "The same is true."
"..."
Ignore the gloomy dissatisfaction on the face of Stepanjun, the teacher got up and set up a fascinating scent in the secret room to ensure that Chu Ning would not suddenly wake up and make a bad plan. Finally, when I went out, I dropped a high-level curse on the door.
Stepping on the fairy eyebrows: "What do you do with this curse? There is no other person in this mountain. Nangong Liu is also the mind of the little devil. No one can go in and save him."
The teacher’s face is unchanged, faintly said: “The family thief is difficult to prevent.”
"Who?"
"You don't know." The teacher sighed. "It's one of my closest people. Don't say it, let's go."
The two left.
In the cold and cold stone room, there is only Chu Xinning himself. He is still in a coma, and the memories of the two worlds are recovering.
But not only, even the teachers didn't notice that the reason why Chu Yuning had been lingering for so long, the knowledge and memories have not fully recovered, not just because he is in poor health, but also has a very important reason. ——
What he wants to remember is not just his own memories!
About because half of the soul stayed in the body for a long time, and the soul of the burning soul was entangled all day long. When the soul returned, he also brought him some memories of the soul of the soul.
- At this moment, these memories became the last image that poured into his brain. He is dreaming, dreaming of some broken past events.
He first dreamed of a funeral post, and the unkempt child crouched on a rotten female body, squinting, and his eyes were blurred.
"Mother... A Niang... Anyone? Anyone... I buried it, buried me and Auntie..."
Then I dreamed of the drunken jade building in Xiangtan. The ink burned and was beaten in a purple cage. I curled up in a dog cage. The warmth of the cows and the beasts were fascinating. The child was kept in a cage and did not have to eat or drink. He can't even turn around.
A child who is similar to his age is grinning at him: "Don't look at what you look like, but also want to be a hero? I see you are a joke! Hey! You are a joke in your life!"
Spit spit.
Small ink burns off your eyes.
Chu nightning's eyelashes are also shaking.
Ink burning...
Then, he dreamed that the raging fire tongue was like a sling, and the ghost was twisted and twisted in the building.
There were crying everywhere, the burning beams collapsed, some people were screaming, and smoke was rolling.
The young boy burned in the fire of the sky, his face was very cold, his eyes were calm, he lowered his head, put a **** mottled knife on his lap, holding a bunch of grapes in his hands, slowly peeling the purple skin.
"It's all over, A Niang."
The smoldering looks very peaceful.
"But I can't see you... I killed someone, my hands are blood. A Niang, I will go to **** after I die, I will never see you again."
Ink burning... ink burning...
Suddenly the light started to shine.
It is a woman's gentle face, and her eyes are slightly picking.
who is it?
Chu Xiaoning felt that the woman’s eyebrows were similar to themselves, and when she looked down seriously, she was very clear.
She sewed the coat in her hand.
"A Niang..." There is a child's voice, calling in a light mosquito.
The woman screamed and smiled at him: "How did you wake up?"
"I have a nightmare... I am so hungry..."
The woman put off her clothes and opened her arms. She smiled softly and said, "I have a nightmare again? Well, don't be afraid, I will burn my baby in my arms."
Burning children... ink burning...
Chu nightning closed his eyes, and he did not know how bitter the taste was.
too bitter.
Just watching, I feel that this day is dry and shrinking, and every night is so difficult.
A Niang...
This is the first time he saw the appearance of the ink-burning mother. He suddenly understood why there was no sad temple in the past. Xiaomo burning instinctively grabbed his robes and believed that he prayed for himself. He suddenly understood that before the tower, that Why did the teenager come over to himself and beg for himself and accept him as a disciple.
The teenager smiled and said: "Because you look the best, the most gentle."
At that time, everyone was laughing at the back of the ink, and the sneer was burning.
Actually not.
no……
He is not awkward, nor is he a flattering. He can't tell the truth, he can't cry, he can't pull Chu night and say: "Xianjun, when you look down, there are actually some people who have been the best in the world. She is gone, can you ignore me, can you replace her, and look at me again."
I miss her very much.
Nothing can be said about ink burning. It can only endure the great bitterness in the heart and endure the tears rising. Endure the indifference and neglect of Chu Yuning. Chasing behind, pretending to calmly laugh and deceive everyone.
No one needs to know his past, no one can share his pain.
He can only smile like this, under the tower of the sky, the smile is too eager, too eager, stealing endless thoughts, so that the night will burn.
The ink burns open your eyes.
He is not dead, he is in an extremely narrow cell. The walls are gray and the only light comes from a small meal under the door of the Xuan Iron Gate.
The top of the cell was engraved with the coat of arms of the scales, and he knew he was in the middle of it.
This is the first fair and fair judgment temple in the world, independent of the top ten martial art outside the first martial arts.
Tianyin Pavilion.
He lay inside, his throat burning and his lips cracking.
It is very quiet around, and it can be quiet in the eardrum to produce an empty wind, and you can hear the slang of the soul. It took him a long time to gather his own distracted consciousness -
He actually felt that he should have had such a day in his life, but his fate is still kind to him, and he will be able to settle his sins with him in this life.
"The ink burns and eats."
I don't know how long I have been lying. Here, time is blurred.
He heard someone coming over and pushed the meal from the hole to him, a piece of oil swirling cake, a bowl of soup.
He did not get up and pick up, and the attendant of Tianyin Pavilion did not talk to him any more, and he walked quickly, and soon he went far.
How is Chu nightning?
How is the death and death?
Where did the pieces that were destroyed finally go?
He was faint, and he was tired of thinking about these three questions. After thinking for a long time, he was willing to accept his life and knew that no one would tell him the answer.
He is now a prisoner.
He sat up.
There was a pain in the chest, and there was no strength in the body. The once-frozen spiritual flow had disappeared. He stayed behind the wall for a while -
After the original nuclear nucleus was broken, it was this feeling.
Can not summon Shenwu, can not cast spells, as if the wind and the waves of the waves lost the tail, Peng Yun Peng has no wings.
He was kneeling in the corner, his black eyes staring blankly at the front.
The smoldering was suddenly very sad, but the sadness was not because of himself. He thought of the past life of Chu, and the reincarnation of heaven. He finally realized the helplessness and pain of Chu Xiening at that time.
He really wanted to say sorry to Chu’s late night.
But it is late.
Everything can't go back.
He was trapped in the house, the cake and a bowl of soup from hot to cold, from cold to cold. Later, he began to eat, and after eating this, no one has ever been to this cell.
He became the ink that was locked in the dog cage when he was a child, but the treatment of the house was much better than the dog cage. He could comfortably lie down.
He was lying in this darkness, and he woke up when he woke up, but it was not so important to wake up and sleep. In this room, he seemed to die.
The ink burned faintly, maybe he is already dead?
Perhaps this life, that is, he is lying in the raft under the tower of the sky, the soul is not scattered, and a good dream. He swayed the thirty-two years of life like a circus, and he was full of gloom and joy, and finally he became a bone in his heart.
He rolled his mouth slightly and smiled.
He actually felt that if the truth is true, then it would be better.
He was very tired. He walked for too long and struggled for too long. He was in **** or human. He was not so concerned. He just wanted to rest.
He is very old in his heart. In fact, when he was born in the middle of the night, he had already gone down completely and went on. He has been doing good for so many years, and he is looking for a cure for this aging medicine.
But he could not find it.
He fought for so long, unrelentingly and shamelessly seeking for so long, and now he is tired and tired. In this life, he lost his mother, lost his master, lost his best friend, lost his lover, lost his stolen relatives, and lost his vain reputation.
Now, he has lost even the core. But he was still taken to the Tianyin Pavilion, still unable to escape the most severe blame in the realm of cultivation.
He finally died, and he knew that he would never be forgiven.
His drizzle is an ugly and deformed mountain, and the vast winter snow covers his scars.
But it was snowing.
His darkness, his horror, nowhere to hide.
He couldn’t do the Master of Mozambique. When he was contaminated with the blood of the first innocent person, he was destined to be the emperor in his life. He burned the piano and burned his teeth. His face was as good as his beast. He Damn it.
He is dead, cheering in the world.
I don't know if he was trapped in the forbidden room, the door opened.
The disciples of Tianyin Pavilion came in and tied him with a bundle of sacred words, then picked him up and left him and dragged him outside.
They took him through a long, dark road.
The ink burned hoarse and sullenly opened, saying the first words from these days: "How are they?"
No one cares about him.
He was twisted and went to the end. The sky is set off, and the ink burns like a dragon that has been huddled in the dark for too long. It has already been glaring, and it seems so dull and uneasy in such a dazzling glare. He couldn't adapt to the sudden light. He wanted to cover his eyes, but his hands were tied back, so he could only bow his head and shed tears under the thick black eyelashes.
He was fainting, and he didn't know where he was. Only the sense of smell was clear.
He smelled the breath of the wind, the breath of the sea, the breath of flowers and trees, he was pushed a bit, and hesitated to go forward.
Slowly, the ears can adapt to the noisy here.
He heard many people talking, and whispering whispers together was like Jiang Chao. The tide can wash away the dirt, but the tide can also kill people.
I feel that I can't breathe.
He is very weak.
At this moment, it is weak to the extreme.
"Your Majesty."
The man who escorted him was pushing him, and he knelt down, and the sun shone in the high heavens, shining on his dry face.
I didn't think that the outside would be such a sunny day.
"That is the ink master..."
"I don't think that one day I could see him being judged in Tianyin Pavilion. Hey, it's really a matter of knowing people and knowing what to do."
The ink burns in the ears, and the eyes can gradually see something, but it is still very unclear. He can only look at everything in front of him with the shadow of the eyelashes.
It is the public auditorium of Tianyin Pavilion in memory.
When he was young, he once saw the place of trial with Xue Zhengyi Xue Meng.
But he has been a spectator and has become a person under trial.
The crowds in the audience are crowded and crowded. These are the ordinary people who came to the Tianying Pavilion for onlookers and interrogated. He couldn't see the faces of any one person, and he couldn't see the expressions on those people's faces. He only thought that those heads that had whispered together were together, and they became high and low undulating wheat waves.
Then he looked up again.
The four walls are towering, and the visitors from various sects sit on the stage.
The blue color is Bitanzhuang, the red one is the fire phoenix pavilion, the yellow one is the mourning temple... Then his heart slammed together, it is strange, he still feels pain.
He saw the familiar silver blue, the quietest of the entire stands, and the most popular martial art.
The shackles of life and death.
He blinked, regardless of the sting of his eyes, trying to look in that direction - but he couldn't see, he couldn't see where Xue Zhengyi was, and he couldn't see who was Xue Meng who was the elder of the wolf who was Hey, he can't find Mrs. Wang.
In the end, on the trial stage, he still couldn’t see those people he was most worried about.
"The smoldering of the dead, the ninth city of the Confucianism, the singularity of the Nangong, and the singularity of the Nangong." On the high platform, the wooden smoke was clearly stated in the sound of the sound, and the sound was suppressed. Adding trials, you can't misplace them, you can't make a mistake..."
The ink burned did not listen to her words.
Such a sharp voice is too harsh for a long-awaited person.
The wood smoke is not a singularity. It is about the slogan of a cup of tea. It floats into the ear of the ink, and it is the incomplete word of "killing and paying for life", "intentional speculation" and "cultivation prohibition".
In the end, he heard her say: "To remove the recidivism, and to give justice, this Tianyin Pavilion is also responsible."
After the wood smoke was finished, a disciple of Tianyin Pavilion came next to him. The disciple came to the front of the ink, and against the dazzling sunlight, cast a dark shadow of ink.
"Open your mouth."
"..."
Seeing that the ink did not respond, the man snorted and slammed his chin violently, pouring a pot of bitter medicinal juice into his mouth.
"Cough and cough -"
The ink can't burn the cough. He hasn't eaten for many days. The stomach suddenly touches such a strong slurry, and it is almost irritating. It seems to be retching.
The man held his throat and prevented him from moving, forcing him to swallow the pot of potion. The cold liquid is like a snake sliding into the belly, turning over the river, and tearing through the internal organs.
The ink burns his face, and he wants to vomit. He really wants to vomit.
However, he did not accept the soft, refused to ask for mercy, he did not even want to tears in his eyes. He is half-baked, and his despicable days are too much, but this does not mean that he has no dignity.
The potion was filled down, and the man loosened him, and he gasped heavily.
The wings are lost and the fatigue is exhausted.
However, there is still a fierceness before the death of a lonely eagle.
The people of Tianyin Pavilion are explaining to the spectators who come to the five seas and lakes as usual -
"This is a sin."
The ink burns the lips and the teeth are pale, and the coveted laughs.
Swearing water... Oh, complaining about water, how can he not know?
This kind of syrup, the sinless person must not drink, only to become the trial prisoner of Tianyin Pavilion, will be poured this kind of decoction, and then will be conscious of the sin, to describe the big mistakes made in life.
After the interpretation of the disciples of Tianyinge, they came over and tapped on the lips of the ink to expand the sound so that everyone could hear his words.
The ink burns and closes the eyebrows, and the head of the stomach seems to have a knife.
He was forbearing, because he was too hard to endure, and he was shaking and squeaking. He was pale and his eyes turned up slowly. He squatted on the platform... twitching...
He still has consciousness, but the consciousness is clear for a while, and it is blurred for a while. He exhausts all his perseverance to fight against the drug, but still can't get rid of it -
"I... killed people." In the end, it was still painful to close his eyes and hoarse.
His unspeakable voice, walking through every corner.
Everyone was quiet, and they looked at the people on the stage with their eyes.
The wooden cigarettes lingered on the high platform.
“How many people have you killed?”
"...too much...do not remember..."
The following people have changed their faces.
"How old are you when you first murder?"
"fifteen."
"Is it a monk or a mortal?"
"mortal."
"Is murder for revenge, or is it for self-protection?"
"There are both."
He asked one by one, and many of the spectators gathered to see the excitement. It was not clear about the previous things. When they heard the ink burning, they actually killed people at the age of fifteen, and the more they killed, the more they couldn’t remember the exact number. They were all shocked and angry.
"I don't think that this famous Mo Zong teacher is actually a devil who kills people without blinking!"
"It’s terrible... this person is so sinister."
"I didn't even dare to kill the chicken when I was fifteen, but he actually started killing! It's a metamorphosis..."
If the wooden cigarettes are not heard, they will be cold and cold: "Follow the crime."
"I..." I couldn't stand the bones and bursts, but I couldn't stand it. The ink burned and mute, "I...pretend, I pretend to be the scorpion of the Lord."
"how long?"
"eight years..."
"Continue to commit crimes."
The ink burns slowly and slowly: "I... cultivation... three major bans... Jane... Jane... the game..."
Many people in the stands were speechless at this moment.
Some people yelled at the side of the dead and sorrow, and sneered in the mouth: "Is Xue Zhengzhen not to give up this animal? I will say a cup of sin to feed, he must tell the truth - Xue Zheng Before the embarrassment, I still didn’t let the Tianyin Pavilion interrogate the ink. I saw that this old thing was blinded by lard, and the hatred of the killing did not want to be reported. The sect of the dead is actually a disciple practicing ban, this martial art Can you disperse it? What else to keep? Then cultivate the devil?"
"I also said that he did it! After the death of his life, he abolished his spiritual core to save us. It was nothing more than a bitterness. Fortunately, he did not let him go!"
"That is, staying in the green hills is not ignorant of firewood. He must have thought about it at that time. He is so great, how is the spiritual core abolished? Maybe he can think of any tricks to restore himself. It seems that it is really It’s dangerous, if it’s not the Tianyin Pavilion’s insistence, we might have misplaced this poisonous thing!”
On the public auditorium, there is a Pangshuo Libra, which is full of golden brilliance. It is a very special martial art. It has a hundred tons. Since the opening of the Tianyin Pavilion, it has been standing here for thousands of years. On behalf of the same.
It is said that this scale can be left in the world by the gods, and can clarify all the sins and punishments of the human world and give the most fair ruling.
The ink burned without opening an acknowledgment of a guilt. The wooden smoke left the disciples to put the weight of the golden spirit into the weighing pan. The exquisite code fell into the weighing pan and quickly became bigger, pressed down heavily, and the other side of the scale On the top, facing the corresponding punishment.
When he recited his first sin, Libra pointed to "the dig of the core."
After he finished the game, Libra pointed to the most extreme punishment -
"Crush the soul."
In the stands, Xue Meng’s face was full of blood.
He murmured: "Crush the soul...?"
Since then, there has been no light rain in the world, no more burning.
This is his brother, really good or fake.
Even if the round is reincarnation, it will never be seen again.
There was a blank in his mind and his hands were stiff.
Xue Zhengyi stood up and abruptly said to the wooden cigarette: "The punishment of smashing the soul has never been suffered since the Tianyin Pavilion. The wooden cabinet owner may fear that your trial is unfair."