Chapter 75
Fan Zhuoyuan had never met Hu Qi at all, so of course he didn't know who he was, so he still drank and ate calmly.

He said casually: "There is nothing to regret for fighting for a chance for one hundred thousand colleagues."

As he spoke, he raised his head, a pair of tiger eyes stared firmly at the other party, and rushed towards him with a bloody aura that killed thousands of people.

Hu Qi couldn't help breaking out in a cold sweat, and took a step back, resisting Fan Zhuoyuan's coercion and staring at him.

Fan Zhuoyuan sneered, "Are you a Song native who escaped from Japan?"

Hu Qi's eyes turned red, and he pointed his halberd angrily and said, "That's right! You are in Japan, and you killed so many people of the Great Song Dynasty! Today, I will avenge those souls who died under your sword!"

Fan Zhuoyuan said in a cold tone: "Expedition outside the territory, destroy the country and slaughter the city, those who follow me will prosper, and those who oppose me will perish!"

There was a voice of clapping the table from behind, "What a Shunchang rebellion, now you are in a tight siege, we will do justice for the heavens, punish you as a traitor, let's see if you can still be a Shunchang rebel!"

The woman holding Ziwu Yuanyang's ax turned to the person who spoke: "Daoist Zhenyangzi, what are you talking about with this man! His father rebelled against Song Dynasty and Jiang Yuan, took the lead in breaking Lin'an, and owed countless blood debts.

My father, mother and relatives died in Lin'an City. If this revenge is not avenged, we will not share the sky!

Like a father, like a son, this man attacked Japan and killed a large number of Song people who fled overseas. He was more brutal than his father. If he didn't kill him, why would the people be angry! "

The leading Taoist priest said: "He Xiangu, the owner of the villa seems to be in the future, so why not wait for him?"

Seeing that the scene was tense, the grandpa and grandson had already hid in the distance with their heads in their arms.

The grandson asked: "Grandpa, what would happen if there was a mighty and strong man who was strong on the outside but also offended a beggar woman?"

The old man glanced at him and said, "What else can you say, just wait for it to cool down."

Everyone thought that Fan Zhuoyuan, who was surrounded in the middle, could only wait for the cool ending.

The leading monk raised the handy shovel, "Amitabha, I think something may have happened to the owner of the villa. There are so many knights gathered here, are you still afraid of him? If you don't come up, monk, I will do it first!"

As he said that, he left face to face, and with a shocking drink, it was convenient for the shovel to smash down on his head!

Fan Zhuoyuan didn't raise his head, he put his hand on the shovel, and the other hand was still holding the last haggis on the plate. He never liked wasting food.

"Who is the owner of the villa you are talking about?" He asked in a calm tone.

The monk in front of him is called Zen Master Kuye, and he is the elder of the Baita Temple in Wutai Mountain.

Before the Shaolin Temple closed down, the Zen school took the Baita Temple in Wutai Mountain as its sect, and there have always been many talented people, and countless Buddhist masters have been born.

For Zen Master Kuye to become the elder of the Baita Temple, his strength is no small matter, and his internal strength is among the best among the besieged people.

However, with his internal and external dual cultivation strength, even Fan Zhuoyuan couldn't hold down with one arm, until his face was flushed and his arms were bulging, Fan Zhuoyuan was still able to eat the last bit of haggis without slowing down.

Seeing this, the disciples beside the monk drew out their eyebrow-leveling sticks and Jiedao one after another, and attacked in four directions: left, right, up, down, up.

Fan Zhuoyuan still sat firmly on the spot, pushed with one hand, and shook the square table in front of the four novice monks.

The man in the lead didn't know the strength on the table, so he swung the Jie knife and smashed Huashan!

Zen Master Kuye hurriedly shouted: "Wait!"

But one step too late, the novice slashed down with his knife, and the knife embedded in the square table, but it was hard to stop the incoming force, he slammed into his stomach fiercely, his muscles, bones and viscera were shattered by the strange force, and he flew back backwards with blood spurting from his mouth.

The other three novice monks knew it was powerful, but they couldn't dodge it in time, so they had to work together to block it.

Six hands were propped on the table, but all six of them were broken. The violent force threw them all into the air.

Zen Master Kuye's face changed in shock, and he slapped the table with one palm, smashing the table with his strong internal force just now.

However, the hand holding the handy shovel was empty. It turned out that Fan Zhuoyuan took the opportunity to snatch the weapon.

He looked at the handy shovel in his hand, shook his head and said, "This thing is only suitable for digging, not for killing people."

As he spoke, he struggled with his arms, and easily broke the convenient shovel with a thick iron-wood bottom into two pieces, and smashed it at Zen Master Dead Leaf with his backhand.

The expressions of the bystanders changed when they saw Fan Zhuoyuan grabbing the Zen Master Withered Leaf's weapon and lightly killing the four monks at Baita Temple.

"Traitor! It's really powerful! You don't need to talk about the morals of the rivers and lakes, let's stand shoulder to shoulder and see if he can beat four hands with two fists!"

He Xiangu took the Ziwu mandarin duck axe in her hand, kicked the table towards Fan Zhuoyuan, hiding her inner strength in it.

There was a table of Taoist priests sitting behind Fan Zhuoyuan. The long sword on the leader's back popped out of its sheath, soared into the air, spun around, held the sword in both hands in mid-air, and stabbed Fan Zhuoyuan's vital points in the back in a spiral manner.

The rest of the Taoist priests drew out their iron guts and poison darts to harass them with long-distance hidden weapons.

Fan Zhuoyuan sat on the spot, smashed the table kicked by He Xiangu with his palm first, then put his feet on the ground, and flew backwards.

A few hidden weapons were nailed to the body like mosquito bites, and the Taoist's long sword pierced the vest in a spiral posture.

This was a blow with extremely strong penetrating power, but the blade was quite tough, so the strength was scattered.

The Taoist felt like a fine iron and a hard stone, and it was difficult to get into it. He was shocked, and with the power of the sword body bending and collapsing, he quickly swung back to avoid Fan Zhuoyuan's backhand blow.

But his three disciples were not so lucky, they only heard three muffled sounds.

Before the three disciples of the Taoist priest could even draw out their swords, they were punched in the chest at the same time, and they were thrown out like a kite with broken strings, knocking over several tables, and died of a heart attack on the spot.

The Taoist priest's eyes were about to burst, and he roared: "You are really vicious! These disciples of mine have no grievances or enmity with you, and you actually took people's lives!"

Fan Zhuoyuan looked at the other party in surprise, and said: "Why don't you want to take Fan's life? Why do you say that there is no injustice or hatred? If this is the case, why do you blame Fan for killing?"

At this time, people surrounding Fan Zhuoyuan included He Xiangu, Zen Master Kuye, this Taoist priest, and the nine-bag beggar who was sleeping under the eaves and had already sat up.

The rest, like Hu Qi, four people, and a group of beggars, surrounded the periphery. Their martial arts are ordinary, so it may be difficult to join them, so they can only respond according to the situation.

As for other business travelers who were not on the Jianghu Road, when they saw the fight, they had already fled.

Only the shopkeeper and his family shrank in the shop, not daring to say a word.

Those who stayed on the field were considered outsiders, including the grandparents, but they also fled far away, watching the battle curiously with their necks stretched across the official road.

There was also the family of three who seemed to be stunned in a corner of the restaurant, and all got under the table at this time, trembling all over.

"Daoist Master Zhenyangzi, it seems that your Seven Star Sword Style can't do anything to this person."

The nine-pocket old beggar laughed and said, facing Fan Zhuoyuan's previous massacre, the only one who didn't change his face was this person.

(End of this chapter)

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