Flying Dust

chapter 16

"look around for something!" we disciples just have to eat well! li du on the side knocked on mo feichen's head with chopsticks.

"yes, yes!" mo feichen nodded, and glimpsed jun wushuang not far away watching him knock his head off, with a bad smile on his mouth.

at this moment, a disciple of muyun mountain villa ran in and seemed to say something in wen qianliu's ear, and after wen qianliu listened, wan'er smiled and looked at the mouth shape and seemed to say "follow him".

li du whispered from the side, "it seems that at this banquet, i can't see wen qianliu's disciple lu qingmo."

"lu qingmo? are you talking about the sword master of the dàng sword? mo feichen had heard of lu qingmo, this person had become famous very early, he had already produced a sword at the age of fourteen, and at the age of twenty-four, he had already become one of the top ten famous swords in martial arts. some people once said that his talent was far above the undercurrent of his brother wen, and he had high hopes from the former owner, but unfortunately, this life was uninhibited, not the kind of person who would be able to settle down when he sat in a chair.

now lu qingmo was about thirty years old, about the same age as yu ban, and i heard that he didn't have much time in muyun mountain villa, and he couldn't see it when he returned to the mountain villa because of the martial arts conference, and mo feichen suddenly felt a little regretful.

after all, lu qingmo was the youngest of the ten famous swords, and mo feichen wanted to see what kind of person this person really was.

the whole banquet is a group of leaders who chuī each other, but those who really have prestige, such as wen qianliu, liu feiying, or wuwei zen master, are indifferent and cannot see joy.

this is called cultivation.

mo feichen didn't care about anything else, just ate a full.

until the feast was almost over, i heard that the hall, which had always been somewhat lively, suddenly became quiet.

mo feichen was trying to swallow the last bite of mustard rolls, but li du on the side kept poking him with chopsticks.

"look! take a look! "look

... what..." mo feichen turned and looked at the place he was pointing.

i saw a man dressed in white walking in the middle of the hall, holding a wine jug in his hand, drinking heavily with his head on his back, his clothes casually folded, and the mihuáng-colored belt only randomly circled twice.

jomo was the slender figure of the man, and this dismal dress was actually dressed with an unusual taste. <

when the wine jug fell gracefully, a face like a landscape ink painting instantly grabbed everyone's attention, and people couldn't help but ponder carefully.

the corners of his mouth were sunken, and that smile had three points of laziness, three points of randomness, and three points of charm, and the remaining one point was imperceptible mockery.

it was just that flash of ridicule, but it was caught by mo feichen.

"lu qingmo has seen all the guests..." he seemed to be a little drunk, his half-open eyes were inexplicably seductive, but the bridge of his nose revealed a heroism that was difficult to ignore, "your guests make our village shine!" although

his voice was intermittent, each time the tail note was stretched very long, and people's moods also fluctuated.

turning around, the sleeves of his sleeves in an arc, he snapped the wine jug on the table of the disciple of lianxia dòng, and then walked straight to the wen undercurrent.