The scorching sun was in the sky, and there was a lot of people's voices.
The noisy voices were like the tide, one wave after another.
At ten o'clock, some masters among the inner disciples had already appeared.
They did not express any opinions on the situation that Zhao Yufan had not appeared so far.
Han Bingyue was dressed in a white robe, her hair on her temples was fluttering gently, and a smile appeared on her lips.
This guy Zhao Yufan must be sleeping.
At noon, it was time to eat, and everyone was impatient to wait.
Even Han Bingyue frowned slightly and looked worriedly in the direction of Zhao Yufan's room, thinking in her heart that if Zhao Yufan didn't come, he would have provoked everyone's anger.
It's time to face more than just the masters on the Qingyun List.
"He's coming" Suddenly, someone shouted loudly, and everyone turned their heads behind them.
The dark crowd fell into dead silence, and countless eyes stared at the little black dot that was getting closer and closer behind them.
The small black dot gradually grew larger, and Zhao Yufan finally appeared in everyone's sight.
The crowd was like a tide, spreading to both sides, making way for Zhao Yufan.
He took small steps carelessly, step by step.
With every step he took, everyone became more nervous.
When he reached the ring, everyone finally let out a sigh of relief.
He stood upright on the ring and asked in a long voice: "Who is the ninth master who dares to come up and fight?"
His words were casual, with contempt in his tone.
The words floated in the blue sky, and a dark shadow flashed in front of his eyes.
A young man jumped onto the ring.
This man was like a sword that had just been unsheathed, with a chilling look all over his body.
Zhao Yufan glanced at the young man contemptuously, lowered his head and raised his right hand, patted the clothes on his chest lightly, and asked lazily: "Who are you?"
"I am the eighth master on the Qingyun Ranking, Zhao" When the young man was halfway through his words, Zhao Yufan interrupted him rudely and said with an unhappy face: "The eighth one I will challenge first is the ninth master.
You go and wait in the back.
You will be beaten when the time comes."
Everyone was dumbfounded when they heard this.
Zhao Yufan's words were too arrogant.
He directly asked his opponents to line up to be beaten before challenging him.
This was definitely a sign of extreme contempt for the masters on the Qingyun List.
The corners of the young man's mouth twitched, his eyes widened, and his upper and lower teeth intertwined with each other with hatred, making a grinding sound.
He waved his hand and took out a golden sword, pointing it at Zhao Yufan's chest without saying a word.
The atmosphere instantly became solemn, and everyone's psychology was the same as that of Ming Jing.
This was the precursor to the war.
Everyone's eyes naturally shifted to Zhao Yufan, and they saw him slowly raising his right arm, bending the middle finger of his right hand, clasping the middle finger with his thumb, and flicked towards the golden sword.
Suddenly, the golden sword made a clear and sweet sound.
At the same time, the sword trembled slightly, rising and falling like water waves.
Zhao Yufan's flick of the finger was like hitting everyone's heart, and everyone's heart rose and fell like a sword, trembling slightly.
Who could have guessed that Zhao Yufan would do such a weird thing in such a solemn atmosphere?
What's even more annoying is that after he finished playing the sword, he wiped the middle finger of his right hand with his left hand, as if to say that the middle finger of his right hand became dirty because he played the sword, and he wanted to wipe it.
Zhao Yufan wiped his right hand with an extremely serious expression, so serious that many people believed him.
They stood on tiptoes, raised their heads, and looked at the golden sword, thinking that there was really some dirt on the sword.
The young man held a sword and glared at Zhao Yufan.
This was the greatest shame in his life.
He expressed his anger in the simplest words: "I want you to die."
Zhao Yufan had a sly smile on his face and replied solemnly: "Get in line."
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His words were serious, but they felt more like contempt for his opponents.
Many disciples around him couldn't help laughing when they heard his words.
At this time, Zhao Yufan rolled his eyelids upward, looked at the young man for a few times, and suddenly turned around and took a detour.
The moment he turned around, a sly smile flashed at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes were full of huge confidence.
The young man's sword pierced out straight at the moment Zhao Yufan turned around, as fast as a ray of sunshine, piercing Zhao Yufan's back in the blink of an eye.
The sword stabbed Zhao Yufan in the back, and the moment the sword touched Zhao Yufan's body, he moved his lips slightly and shouted softly: "Break" His voice was very soft, but it resounded throughout the sky, and with his voice, there was deathly silence around him.
Everyone stared at the golden sword, with dull and frightened expressions on their faces.
The sword began to break strangely from the tip, slowly extended to the hilt, and finally turned into pieces of golden leaves scattered on the ground.
The young man's hands were holding the empty air, his face was dull, and his eyes were full of fear.
Everyone's mood was as complicated as the young man's.
They didn't know what happened and why the sword suddenly broke.
But they knew one thing.
The young man failed, strangely, bizarrely, and unbelievably.
Zhao Yufan said it was broken, but the sword was really broken.
What I said just now is like an imperial edict, and everything dare not disobey it.
Zhao Yufan defeated his opponent with just one word.
It was difficult for everyone to understand that such a terrifying thing could happen in the world.
They were wondering if Zhao Yufan was the one who said he would die, so would the young man just now die?
Thinking of this, everyone's hair stood on end and they looked at Zhao Yufan in fear.
Zhao Yufan was not too happy, because in the eyes of some experts, everything he did was within the control of these people.
Things that seemed weird and bizarre were actually very simple.
Someone did guess the method used by Zhao Yufan.
Although the method was simple, few people could do it as easily as he did.
Although the masters could see the methods used by Zhao Yufan, they had to admire him, because if it were them, they would definitely not be able to do it.
Looking at the lost young man, Zhao Yufan shook his head and said reproachfully: "I asked you to line up but you didn't.
It's over now."
As he spoke, he glanced at the crowd and shouted toward the ring: "Nineth on the Qingyun List.
Masters, come out quickly, my time is limited and I don’t have time to play with you.”
If this sentence had been said at the beginning, everyone would have scoffed at it, but at this time, they obediently kept their mouths shut and did not dare to speak.
The eighth master was defeated by Zhao Yufan with one word, let alone the ninth master.
The ninth expert walked out of the crowd silently, extremely nervous.
Zhao Yufan defeated the eighth expert with just one sentence.
He was probably going to be defeated by him as well.
He stopped before he could reach Zhao Yufan and said with shame: " I admit defeat" There was no ridicule around, normal people would make such a conscious choice.
The ninth master admitted defeat, and everyone's attention naturally moved to the seventh master.
The seventh master is a short young man.
His small eyes move around and the bridge of his nose is slightly depressed, giving people a sinister feeling.
In order to deal with Zhao Yufan, he carefully prepared a lot of good things, and even had extremely powerful attack items in the inner sect.
His purpose is simple to kill Zhao Yufan.
If he cannot be killed, he will be defeated.
If he cannot be defeated, he will be injured.
If he cannot be injured, he will consume his strength.
In short, he cannot let Zhao Yufan win easily
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