Song Qian pointed his sword at the person holding the bell.

The visitor calmly raised his hand and avoided Song Qian's sword. He slapped out his palm, making Song Qian's palm deflect. The sword edge tilted to the side. He took advantage of the situation to catch Song Qian's wrist, tied a sword flower, and pushed the green edge and stabbed Song Qian.

With the advantage of cutting thoughts, if you are stabbed, Song Qian will not only break a hole, but also have a high probability of even his hands and shoulders being cut off.

Zhan Nian buzzed, resisting the force coming from the hilt of the sword.

The person who came exclaimed, obviously, he didn't expect Zhan Nian to be so spiritual.

He let go of Song Qian's wrist, slammed Song Qian's shoulder with a palm, and staggered him and took a few steps back.

Song Qian stabilized his body and raised his head, his hairband suddenly broke, and his black hair flew in the wind. His hair was stunned by his eyes. He seemed to feel no pain, so he raised his sword and continued to attack.

At this moment, the sword was in the hand and the thought was in the heart. As soon as the action was made, there was a thunderous momentum, and the mountain was broken and the stone was broken.

The visitor was a little impatient, and he no longer had the same calmness as before. He snorted heavily and suddenly threw the sound towards Song Qian.

Song Qian paused, subconsciously reached out to take it, but his chest hurt hard, and a slender and fair palm was printed on his chest.

He did not retreat in half a step, and took the palm with his body, but his hand didn't catch it.

The visitor was angry with Song Qian's appearance, "Are you strong will? Are you talented? I want to see if you will let go."

Blood spilled out of the corner of Song Qian's mouth, and he waved his sword to force the person to retreat.

His lungs were severely impacted and a vague pain. Every breath he breathed was painful, but his hands were firmly held without sound.

He shook his head and said contemptuously: "Rat."

When fighting against others, you don’t even dare to use the weapons you are good at. What if you are not a rat?

When talking to people, I don’t even dare to use the original sound. What if I am not a rat?

The visitor sneered, and all the attacks were aimed at Song Qian's left hand that was not holding loudly.

He seemed to be unable to listen to Song Qian's ridicule, and his performance became increasingly crazy like a dragon touching the scales.

Zhan Nian cut his arm, he didn't care, he cut his cheek, he didn't care, he just couldn't snatch it.

Song Qian was on the verge of being obsessed with his brain, his mind was not very clear, and his eyes could only blur the sight of things. The battle was entirely based on instinct. After the attack of the person became fierce, he gradually struggled to deal with it.

He had a palm in his left hand, his finger bones clattered, and several bones shattered in an instant.

The broken bones pierced into the flesh, and cold sweat on his forehead emerged uncontrollably.

He still didn't let go.

His left hand naturally drooped, and he did not dare to use force, but his right hand continued to swing his sword.

Both of them used the method of exchanging injuries with injuries, and neither of them was better than each other, but Song Qian's injuries were concentrated on his left hand, and one arm almost shattered inch by inch.

The visitor asked in a cold manner: "Don't you let go? Are you not going to ask for this hand anymore? A man is a real man, he wants to die for a woman... Song Zimu, I feel ashamed of you."

He slapped another palm.

Song Qian shook his body, his center of gravity unstable, and he knelt on the ground on one knee.

The visitor was about to take action again, but a team of monks who came from swords suddenly appeared within the range of the spiritual sense. These monks were all wearing school uniforms embroidered with flying black bird patterns.

People from the Song family.

The person who came narrowed his eyes and said in his heart: Good luck to you, I won’t play with you for now.

He bent down, grabbed Song Qian's left hand, and broke Song Qian's fingers. Song Qian refused to let go, so he broke Song Qian's fingers one by one.

He was confused, "Look, you can't keep what I said I would take away."

The light in Song Qian's eyes finally went out, and he fell to the ground head-on.

The person who came stood up straight, kicked Song Qian's left hand away, swayed, and disappeared into the wilderness.

Song Qian felt relieved, and the wound he suffered began to be a monster. His broken left arm was okay, but the injury from his lungs caused him to have a high fever, and he fell into a deep coma.

A few surviving crows flew back.

They stood three feet away, tilting their heads to look at Song Qian.

They still remember that this human was very dangerous and killed many of their companions, and did not dare to approach them easily.

However, this person seemed to be unable to do it and remained motionless.

Finally, a brave crow approached Song Qian little by little. It walked to Song Qian. Song Qian did not react. Then it lowered its head and pecked Song Qian's left hand, and pecked off a piece of flesh, but Song Qian still did not respond.

The crow bean's eyes lit up.

This hateful person is dying, it is the food in their mouths, so eat it quickly!

A group of crows rushed to Song Qian and pecked at Song Qian's left hand frantically.

The monk's meat is really delicious in the world, and you can't stop eating it once you open it.

When the Song family members arrived, they saw such a scene that made them terrified.

If they brought such a Song Qian back to Nanye, even if they didn't lose their lives, their lives would be ruined.

They did not dare to delay any longer and quickly rescued them. The external trauma was easy to say. The arm was treated with bone-restoring pill, but it recovered in a short while. The internal injury was a little troublesome, so they had to take turns to cast spells to help sort out the meridians.

They tried a lot to cure Song Qian's injuries, but Song Qian still had no fever and showed no sign of waking up.

They looked at each other helplessly and could only bring Song Qian back to Nanye.

Song Qian couldn't wake up in a deep nightmare. In the dream, he lost Tushanling and couldn't find it no matter how hard he looked for it.

Not found.

---

---

"A Qian." Tu Shanling shook Song Qian's arm, "Can you hear me?"

After searching for her half passage, she turned around and saw Song Qian standing stiffly, and her condition was very wrong. She hurried over and wanted to wake him up.

She pointed her finger on Song Qian's spiritual platform, but Song Qian did not respond.

She tried to call his name again, but he still didn't respond.

Song Qian's left hand was frequently opened and held tightly, as if he was holding something.

Tu Shanling suddenly became lucky to her heart. She didn't sound and gently sent it into Song Qian's palm.

Song Qian used a little force, but couldn't pinch it. He confirmed that it was indeed back in his hand. He calmed down and his spine relaxed, looking like he was asleep while standing.

Tu Shanling held Song Qian and sat down against the earth wall, while she herself lay at the entrance of the passage and looked inside.

In the glimmer of purple light, it seems that there is a ball of black things lying deep in the depths.

Tu Shanling: "Come."

The sound she made was not heard by people's ears, but the earth sensed it.

The ground vibrated slightly, pushing out the deep things.

It is a pitch-black wooden box with a soul-suppressing nail inserted on it.

Sure enough, here.

Tu Shanling picked up the thought of killing, swung his sword and slashed the soul-squeezing nail, and the soul-squeezing nail was cut in half.

The bond on the spirit tail was loosened, and he actively broke through the wooden box and rushed towards Tushanjing, rubbing against her face, like a tired bird returning to her nest.

She spread her palms and let the spirit tail fall into her palm.
Chapter completed!