In the autumn of the tenth year of Jinghe, Bai Lu.

The trees fell on Ziyun Peak. Half of the towering mountain peak still has the lushness of the thick heat, but the other half is decorated with golden and vermilion.

Migrating flocks of birds flew out of the dense forest, and their gray-white wings were reddish by the sunset.

"Can you recognize it?" Zhang Ziqiao looked at the birds and asked the boy beside him.

Tang Ou had just finished practicing swords, but she fell dozens of times because she was thrown to the ground by Zhang Ziqiao. At this time, her head was still dizzy. Hearing Yan, he looked up at his master, but he didn't dare to stop, and followed closely by the man in blue.

Zhang Ziqiao asked again when he turned his head: "Can't you see clearly?"

Tang Ou wiped the sweat that was about to fall into her eyes, squinted her eyes and stared at the flock of birds that were leaving for a while.

"I can't see clearly." Tang Ou said.

He was only in his early eleven or twelve years old, and he only learned martial arts for one year with Zhang Ziqiao on Ziyun Peak. In a year, he had just learned his internal and external skills, and he had only practiced the Qingyang mental method passed on to him by Zhang Ziqiao to him to the second level. He really couldn't see the flock of birds that were already as big as dust.

After Tang Ou finished speaking, she didn't see Zhang Ziqiao reacting, so she looked up again.

Zhang Ziqiao stood still and looked back at him, his brows furrowed.

"You haven't practiced Qingyang's mental method these few nights, right?"

Before Tang Ou went to Ziyunfeng to learn martial arts, his family tutoring was quite strict and he was not good at lying, so he nodded in embarrassment.

Zhang Ziqiao instructed him to practice Qingyang's mental method twice before going to bed every night, so that the true qi can walk in his body two small circles. However, these days, Tang Ou saw that Zhang Ziqiao had not checked, so before going to bed, he secretly lighted the light to see his father stuffed his luggage and asked him to bring him with him. He did not practice the exercises.

Zhang Ziqiao sighed, lowered his head and asked him gently: "I have been practicing for a day, Eme?"

Tang Ou nodded quickly.

Zhang Ziqiao: "Go and cut ten bundles of firewood and come back to have a meal. Remember, you can't cut my trees down the mountain."

Tang Ou: “…”

He had a mistake first and dared not argue. He hurried back to his place where he lived and put his sword, picked up the tools and ran down the mountain. Zhang Ziqiao was waiting for him while he was standing by the roadside, and his blue shirt was blowing away in the evening breeze.

"Ten bundles this time." Zhang Ziqiao said calmly, "Next time I discovered that you have not practiced Qingyang's mind method, you will have twenty bundles, and then you will add up in order: forty, eighty, and one hundred and sixty."

Tang Ou nodded while sweating coldly, ran a few steps and turned around and bowed to Zhang Ziqiao. At this moment, a smile finally appeared on Zhang Ziqiao's face and nodded at him.

After cutting ten bundles, Tang Ou was so tired that she was almost lying on the mountain road.

He carried two bundles on his shoulders, carried one bundle with both hands, and built the remaining firewood behind the big rocks and began to go up the mountain.

At this time, the night was already dark. Tang Ou walked for a while and saw a faint fire in the forest from the corner of her eyes.

Every tree on Ziyun Peak is the lifeblood of Zhang Ziqiao. Tang Ou thought to himself: the autumn is so clear that the fire is burning from the bottom of the mountain and will soon burn to Ziyun Peak. Thinking of this, he didn't even bother to put down the fire, and ran towards the fire.

Fire is so hot, warm and bright. A person sat next to the fire, looking up at Tang Ou who was coming out of the forest.

When Tang Ou saw that the man was sitting by the stream and the fire was burning by the stream, it would not endanger Zhang Ziqiao's life. She suddenly breathed a sigh of relief, her feet softened, and she sat on the ground.

The man by the stream laughed. Seeing that he was dressed simply and carrying so much firewood, he thought he was a farmer's child nearby. "Don't you go home yet? It's so dark that the tiger and wolf are about to come out."

Tang Ou said seriously: "There are no tigers and wolves in Ziyun Peak."

The man next to the fire was tall, with thick and long shadows, and the laughter made Tang Ou's ears buzz. He stood up from the ground and was about to leave when he suddenly saw a person lying by the stream.

He was a five or six-year-old child, his clothes were torn, and his skin was covered with black marks, as if he was smoky by fire. Half of his body was soaked in the stream, his hair was scattered on the ground, and he couldn't see clearly, but he was very embarrassed.

I carefully used the fire to see that the child's abdomen was slightly undulating and still alive.

"Do you know him?" Tang Ou shouted to the man, "It's cold in the water, he will freeze to death..."

"I can't die." The man interrupted him, "I'm very lucky and it's not easy to die."

He suddenly laughed, and a straight face looked very strange in the shaking firelight.

Tang Ou felt that this man was not right. He threw away two bundles of firewood in his hand and wanted to go over and see the child.

After just a few steps, the moment he saw darkness. The wind had not stopped, and the man was already standing in front of Tang Ou.

He stopped immediately, with his right leg back, and his feet pinned to the ground, showing his defensive posture.

The man laughed: "You want to save him?"

"If you ignore him, I will save him." Tang Ou pulled out the axe for chopping wood from his waist and spoke loudly to boost his courage.

"Why?" asked the man, "Do you know whether he is good or bad? Do you know whether his parents are good or bad? If you save him, he will become a great evil man who kills and sets fire in the future. Do you think it is good or bad?"

Tang Ou was hungry, tired and nervous. The man asked a series of questions that made him dizzy. He only remembered the set of "The Deer Hunting" stuffed in his father's luggage, and the gangsters in the book, and blurted out: "No, it's not the gangsters who don't save him when they die!"

The big man laughed even more violently. His voice was deep, and he heard Tang Ou's heart jumping in his chest, and his true energy was running around.

"Don't talk about being a hero and righteous boy. Let's wait until you have learned the kung fu." As soon as the man finished speaking, Tang Ou's head hurt hard.

He couldn't even see the man's fist movement clearly and had already fallen to the ground.

When Zhang Ziqiao found him and woke him up, there was no one by the stream and even the fire disappeared.

Tang Ou wiped the blood under his nose and mouth, and told Zhang Ziqiao about the weird guy he met. Zhang Ziqiao touched his pulse and found that the man had no malice and only knocked Tang Ou unconscious. He walked to the place where Tang Ou said to touch the ground and stones, and there was indeed a vague heat.

"What does that person look like?" Zhang Ziqiao asked.

Tang Ou only remembers that the man was tall but couldn't explain clearly.

"Before I fainted, I saw his shoes, with black soles, with a word embroidered on it." Tang Ou said, "It's the word Shen."

"Shen?" Zhang Ziqiao said, "I have never heard of a gang with this name. Tang Xiaoou, do you have the leisure to meddle in other people's business? Have you prepared ten bundles of firewood?"

Tang Ou: “…no.”

Zhang Ziqiao glared at him angrily for a while and asked him to take him to the place where the firewood was put. Tang Ou knew that his master was stubborn and soft-hearted, so he hurriedly led Zhang Ziqiao to get the firewood.

When he went up the mountain, he was still thinking about the unknown child and the mysterious man.

"Master." He asked, "Is there no hero named Shen in the world?"

"No." Zhang Ziqiao carried three bundles of firewood in each hand and walked faster than Tang Ou. "Even if there is, no hero would embroider his name on his shoes, which would be embarrassing."

"Is that true?" Tang Ou followed him and asked nonstop, "Why do you have to write so many 'Zhang' on your robe, and you still have to wear it every time you go down the mountain? Can you throw it away..."

Zhang Ziqiao said angrily: "Go quickly! Do you still want to eat?"

Tang Ou immediately fell silent. Two figures, one tall and one short, advanced on the mountain road, and soon disappeared in the shadows of trees that were not shining brightly by the moonlight.

A few days later, Zhang Ziqiao received a letter from Shanwai.
Chapter completed!