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Chapter 8 The sword, fish and dragon! (Please collect monthly tickets!)
  With a trace of suspicion in his heart, Chen Yan followed Lao Dao from the beginning to the end of the city.

Seeing the city gate in sight and about to leave the confines of Shanxi Town, Chen Yan couldn't help but said:

"Where are we going? If we go any further, we'll be out of the city."

The old man walking in front glanced sideways at Chen Yan: "What? You are a smart young man, are you afraid that a bad old man like me will harm you?"

Chen Yan rolled his eyes when he heard this. He didn't think this sloppy old man was an "ordinary" bad old man.

Being able to see his martial arts skills at a glance and accurately calculate what happened to him last night, Chen Yan had long guessed that this old Taoist was probably the legendary practitioner.

Chen Yan knew nothing about what the monks of the Wu Dynasty could do.

In short, when fighting Master Fa, the closer the distance, the greater the advantage.

Thinking of this, Chen Yan couldn't help but speed up the pace and close the distance between him and the sloppy old man.

Sensing Chen Yan's approach, the old Taoist priest glanced at him inexplicably and continued to lead the way.

The two walked for more than half an hour, until the sun set over the western mountains and dusk was approaching. Finally, the old Taoist stopped in front of a small hill.

This hill looks like a cemetery, with large and small graves everywhere, mottled tombstones scattered everywhere, and unknown weeds growing wildly in the gaps.

In the silence, a few crows occasionally croaked in the treetops, and a cold wind blew by, making the sound of the wind sound like ghosts crying.

"What are you doing here at this mass grave?"

Although Chen Yan has never been to the mass grave, he also knows that there is such a place outside Shanxi Town. Those victims and refugees, or those who died unexpectedly in a foreign land, are usually buried here.

"doing what?"

The old Taoist looked at Chen Yan like an idiot. As he spoke, he flicked his sleeves and a shovel appeared out of thin air. He threw the shovel to Chen Yan and said:
  "Of course I'm here to dig graves, why not bury people?"

Subconsciously taking the shovel, the veins on Chen Yan's forehead began to bulge. His eyes flashed coldly when he looked at the old Tao. His eyes kept lingering on the old Tao's neck and heart, as if he was considering where to start.

The old Taoist couldn't help but shudder when being stared at by Chen Yan, and said quickly:
  "Okay, okay, it's just a joke. You really can't take a joke."

"Come here, what you need is inside."

The sloppy old man muttered something and took the lead to walk up the mass grave, bypassing the scattered tombstones, and finally stopped in front of a grave. There was no tombstone on the grave, and it seemed to be a headless grave.

Pointing to the grave bag, the old Taoist said:

"Dig it."

"You still said you weren't digging graves." Chen Yan said expressionlessly.

"Why don't you dig a grave? I buried this grave myself. Can digging my own grave be called digging?"

"Why are you burying your own grave when you have nothing to do?" Chen Yan was puzzled.

"I want you to take care of it!" The old Taoist glared angrily and said angrily: "You can dig it out or not. If not, I will leave."

"dig!"

Without saying a word, Chen Yan picked up the shovel and started digging hard into the grave.

After digging for a while, Chen Yan heard a clang and felt the shovel touch something hard.

He raised his head and glanced at the old Taoist. After receiving the old Taoist's confirmation, Chen Yan leaned down, dug up the soil, and took out an iron box about four feet long and three inches wide.

"This is it?"

Handing the iron box to the sloppy Taoist, Chen Yan asked curiously.

The old man nodded, opened the box, and took out a long sheathed knife.

Throwing the scabbard to Chen Yan, the sloppy old man said casually:

"One hundred coins is a bargain for you." Chen Yan took it from the air and drew out the long knife.

Zheng!
  I only heard a soft cry, but I saw that the knife was about four feet long, with a straight blade, a thick back and a broad face. Each hilt was engraved with a picture of an evil ghost with a green face and fangs. The blade was white and clear, and there was a vague desire for a strange beast with the head of a dragon and the body of a fish. To fly out.

The most eye-catching thing is that at the end of the blade, at the connection between the blade and the handle, there is a talisman that Chen Yan doesn't recognize.

The blade of the blade was obviously clean and clear, but it could not hide the surging aura of blood, as if what was being held in the hand was not a knife, but a ferocious beast that chose people to devour, which made people feel frightened.

"Good knife!"

Chen Yan's eyes lit up.

The old Taoist replied lazily:
  "Can't the official Thousand Forged Sword be a good sword? The entire Wu Dynasty made no more than a hundred such swords, and each one is the best of the best. Although this sword is not a magic weapon, it is better than a magic weapon. It is used to deal with Those monsters and monsters can do a lot of harm, and they only charge you a hundred cents, which is an advantage for you."

Chen Yan is not an ignorant fool. The knife in front of him may not be worth a hundred taels of silver, let alone a hundred taels of gold, or even a thousand taels of gold.

Forced to hold back the excitement in his heart, Chen Yan couldn't help but ask again:
  "Does this sword have a name?"

"The previous master is dead, so what's the name? It doesn't matter if it's a ghost-head knife or a beheading knife, you can call it a pig-butcher knife."

The sloppy old man drank alone and waved his hands nonchalantly.

Chen Yan couldn't help being speechless when he heard the words, rolled his eyes at the old man, looked at the sword in his hand again, gently stroked the blade, felt the coldness of the blade, and couldn't help but say:
  "In that case, from today on, it will be called [Fish Dragon Sword]!"

"Fish-dragon knife?"

As the old man raised his head to pour the wine, a complicated look flashed in his eyes.

After muttering something vaguely, the old Taoist priest said with a wine-red face:

"Okay, now that you've drank the wine and got the knife, it's time for you to talk about the evil spirits, right?"

After hearing this, Chen Yan put away his knife and his expression became serious.

Although the true identity of the sloppy old Taoist in front of him was still unclear, Chen Yan already had some guesses about his origins. He was most likely a practitioner with an official background, or a similar position.

No matter what, one thing can be made clear, that is, the sloppy Taoist in front of him at least has nothing to do with the skinned puppet last night.

Thinking in his mind, Chen Yan told what happened last night in detail.

Of course, this omits the need for him to exchange blood overnight.

"Skinned puppet?"

After listening to Chen Yan's narration, a glimmer of light flashed in the old Taoist's eyes, and then he frowned, showing a thoughtful look, and said to himself:
  "Could it be the "Skinning Method"?"

"But hasn't the "Skinning Technique" been lost? Could it be that a demon accidentally obtained it and practiced it secretly?"

Chen Yan on the side was confused when he heard it, but he remembered the "Skinning Method" in his heart. At the same time, he was sure in his heart that this old Taoist was indeed a practitioner, and the sloppy old Taoist didn't seem to shy away from this.

"Is the human skin still there?"

"Yes, right at my home."

"Okay, then you will send this human skin to the county government tomorrow, and I will see if I can find any clues."

"Tomorrow? What about now?"

"What are you doing? Of course you're going back. Do you want to spend the night here?"

"Forehead……"

……

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(End of this chapter)