The faster he walked, the closer he got, the more he could hear the commotion coming from the top of the mountain. Thus, he hurried even more.
If he was too slow and Qinglian was killed by Young Master Xiao, then Yang Jian would be in trouble!
To put it lightly, he would only regret not being able to kill his enemy with his own hands.
But to put it more seriously, it would go against his conscience and cause him to be unable to think clearly. It might not matter now, but it would definitely affect his progress to the peak in the future!
If he really did not make it in time, Yang Jian would probably find Young Master Xiao to settle the score!
Yang Jian ran as if he was flying and rushed to a wide stone path. The stone path was filled with messy footprints and many damages left by the battle that had happened not long ago.
The loud shouts, cheers, and the roar of the battle were right in front of him!
With just two leaps, his figure shot into the sky like an arrow!
Qinglian!
Brother is coming!
This was supposed to be the words of someone who could not wait to see their sweetheart, but it had now become the cry of an enemy seeking revenge.
"Whoosh!"
Yang Jian rushed all the way to the top of the mountain, only to find that there were two groups of people in front of him that looked like dark clouds.
A group of people flew in the air, either using various flying artifacts or relying on their own cultivation. There were about a hundred of them.
A group of people piled at the entrance of the square at the top of the mountain at the end of the stone path. There were probably no less than a thousand people standing there. The commotion came from this group of people.
Yang Jian just happened to rush to the height between these two groups of people. He could see that in the training grounds of the Ping Tian Sword Sect, there were two figures in the air, using their treasures to attack each other.
It was precisely because the commotion caused by the clash between the two magic treasures was too great that Yang Jian's movements were concealed.
Yang Jian still did not have the ability to float in the air, and the second layer of the Eight Nine Arcane Art could not use treasures.
He landed straight on the ground and rushed towards the group of people in front of him anxiously.
Even if the people in the air saw him, they just thought that he was an itinerant cultivator who came to join in the fun. Not many people looked at him.
Most of the people piled on the ground and flying in the air had come to cause trouble for the Ping Tian Sword Sect because of Young Master Xiao's words.
"Ahem, please make way."
Yang Jian said awkwardly at the back of the crowd.
The two fellows who were watching the commotion turned their heads and glanced at him. Impatiently, they scolded him, "Go find another place for yourself! If you go any further, you won't be able to see it! "
"Don't you know the rules of cultivators! I think you're courting death, little brother! "
Yang Jian pursed his lips and raised his hand to grab their collars. He did not dare to use too much strength, but he gently picked them up and placed them behind him.
The few cultivators stared at Yang Jian angrily, but before they could say anything, they wanted to say something.
The cultivators glared at Yang Jian angrily, but before they could say anything, they forcefully swallowed their words.
"Yang," they, the cultivators, and Yang, the "Sect, they, and", "Chen"., I, I, I, I, I, "I, I, I, I," I, I "I, I, I.
Most independent cultivators could live for a long time. They could control their mouths and were sensitive to danger.
Although Yang Jian did not give off a cold murderous aura, he gave off a fighting spirit that made these people tremble in fear …
What's more, Yang Jian kept on talking.
"Excuse me for a moment."
"Many thanks."
"My apologies, I have something urgent to attend to."
These words of apology could be considered as giving face to these cultivators.
Yang Jian was like a hand that slid through the gap in the curtains. He effortlessly squeezed to the front of the group and stared at the two people fighting.
One of them was Fairy Qing Lian. At this moment, she was wielding a white sword and was firmly suppressing an old man who held a blood red banner. Victory was already within her grasp.
Just nice, he could fight the next one after she was done.
The last figure was Yang Jian. He shouted out of habit, "Excuse me, I have something urgent to attend to."
The back of his hand touched the arm of the old man in the green robe.
The old man was originally ordinary and did not have a terrifying aura. When Yang Jian gently patted his arm, the old man was like an unsheathed sword. A sharp and cold aura locked onto Yang Jian.
Yang Jian was stunned for a moment before he looked straight ahead.
The old man turned his head slightly and looked at Yang Jian.
Their gazes met. The old man's eyes were filled with a strong warning. His legs seemed to be rooted to the ground, and he did not move at all.
The apologetic look in Yang Jian's eyes … was also quite strong.
He used 20% of his strength. The old man was caught off guard. Yang Jian increased his strength and pushed him a foot away. Yang Jian turned sideways and walked forward.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I have something urgent to attend to. Uh, why is there a chair? "
Yang Jian stopped in his tracks, standing right where the old man had been standing.
The handsome young man sitting on the chair also looked behind him. When he found that the old man was gone, his face turned pale and his pupils subconsciously shrank.
However, Yang Jian saw that there was still a large space beside the chair. He pushed the other person aside and stepped directly into the open space.
"How dare you!" The old man in the green robe came to his senses.
What happened?
He was pushed away by this young man just now?
He, the dignified Zhen … What was that? He was actually pushed away by a little cultivator whose aura could not be sensed at all?
If this young man was here to assassinate his young master, then he had made way for the assassin because of a moment of carelessness!
The old man in the green robe was about to shout, but the young man who was the only one sitting on a chair shouted in a low voice, "Uncle Wu!"
The old man in the green robe was not an ordinary cultivator. He immediately calmed down and stood behind the young man with great vigilance. His eyes were locked on Yang Jian.
However, Yang Jian did not care at all. He took two steps forward and locked his eyes on Fairy Qinglian.
The anger in his eyes was ignited and gradually extinguished, turning into coldness.
However, his heart was burning with battle intent!
"Good!"
The group of loose cultivators suddenly cheered. It was because Qinglian's sword had pierced through the blood-colored banner. She had already gained the greatest advantage.
Most of these loose cultivators were here to join in the fun. They wanted to get familiar with the mysterious Young Master Xiao and ask for a fortuitous encounter. They were not on the opposing side of the Ping Tian Sword Sect. Therefore, cheering for Qinglian at this moment could be considered an act of temperament.
Yang Jian thought, What's good about that? That evil bitch Qinglian's aura is clearly stronger than her opponent's. She is also vicious and merciless. How could she not win?
Suddenly, his heart palpitated. It was as if there was an ancient beast staring at him from behind, as if it wanted to swallow him in one bite.
Yang Jian could not help but be distracted. He turned his head and looked. To his surprise, he discovered that it was the old man whom he had just pushed.
Alas, he was in a hurry to rush over and had bumped into the other party. Moreover, he had to use twenty percent of his strength to push him away. He must also be a great cultivator. It was better not to create enmity.
"I was a little impatient just now. Sorry." Yang Jian squeezed out a smile that was uglier than a crying face.
The old man snorted and met Yang Jian's gaze again. After discovering that there was nothing strange, he could only blush and look away.
He could not be calculative with a mortal cultivator.
Yang Jian took a few more glances at the handsome young master on the seat. The handsome young master was actually sizing him up as well.
The young master sat there smiling and nodding. Taking advantage of the time when the surrounding cheers had died down, he simply asked, "You came for the beauty?"
"Yes." Yang Jian nodded solemnly.
"Wonderful, wonderful." The young master shook his head and praised. If this was done by someone else, it would definitely be very artificial.
However, when this handsome young master did it, it was very natural and made people feel comfortable.
"May I ask for your name?"
Yang Jian replied, "I don't deserve a name. My name is Yang Jian." Then, he turned to look at the sky.
He did not ask for the young master's name because he had no intention of befriending him.
Meanwhile, the young master smiled and shook his head. A folding fan appeared in his hand out of nowhere. He gently tapped his palm and seemed to be talking to himself …
"People say that beauty is a source of trouble. How would you know that she is loyal? When the beauty's sect was about to collapse, she risked her life to come to help. Her friendship is really priceless. She is a person of character. "
While the young master was commenting on Yang Jian, the battle in the sky had also come to an end.
The body of the owner of the long banner was pierced through by a sword shadow. He was seriously injured and was about to fall from the sky.
There were seven or eight figures above Yang Jian's head. They immediately rushed forward to help. Meanwhile, on the side of the Ping Tian Sword Sect, Fu Dongliu also shouted, "Little Junior Sister, please have mercy! There is still room for negotiation today! "
However, Qing Lian only snorted coldly and became even fiercer. She created dozens of sword shadows and attacked the owner of the blood banner!
The sword shadows were stained with blood. The blood banner and its owner were like two pieces of torn cloth that slowly floated down in the sky.
"Martial Aunt!"
"Damn the Ping Tian Sword Sect! Damn it! "
"Master!"
Cries of grief sounded from the crowd. The group of wandering cultivators who had cheered earlier were now silent. The atmosphere was very tense.
"This woman is a little too vicious!"
"The Poison Sword Fairy lives up to her reputation. It looks like there will be a huge battle today."
"It's better if we don't get involved in this mess."
The group of wandering cultivators were clearly shocked. In the sky, the cultivators from the other sects were also silent. A few people wanted to rush up and fight with Qing Lian, but they were held back by their fellow sect members.
Yang Jian looked at the fairy in the sky. She was dressed in feathered clothes and her sword was stained with blood. She looked up at the sky like a beautiful sword that stood between heaven and earth, proud of the heavens.
The sword bones and the sword body shocked thousands of people.
The young master smiled and said, "This beautiful fairy is also powerful. She is decisive in killing. She is a talent."
Yang Jian nodded when he heard that.
To be honest, a ruthless person like Qing Lian was more suitable to live in the world of cultivators.
Compared to her, Yang Jian's temperament was not as good as hers. He was more like a mortal who had his own emotions.
However, what was wrong with being a mortal?
A person who pursued the so-called transcendence of the state of mind was also at a disadvantage.
He was Yang Jian and was destined to not be an ordinary cultivator. They had different paths and could not be judged.
Fairy Qing Lian opened her thin lips and only said, "Who else?" She suppressed the group of wandering cultivators to the point that they could not speak.
The young master, who was the only one sitting, frowned and looked at a gray-robed old man on the left. Just as he was about to signal the old man to take action and suppress the woman, he heard a chuckle in front of him …
Yang Jian took a step forward and walked into the field.
His spiritual perception was fine. At that moment, Qing Lian could not give him any sense of danger.
The battle intent in his heart was burning, and he wanted to melt the piece of ice that was standing in midair.
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