Chapter 4705: : Twelve words!

The two voices sounded one after another, and it was so clear when they landed on this quiet square.

Then, the two seemed to look at each other.

The man in the white jade mask looked at Ye Wuque through the mask, and Ye Wuque also looked at each other quietly.

After several breaths, the man in the white jade mask let out a faint sigh.

"Yes, it's me."

"Qingyang hasn't been here for a long time, and the ancient talisman that entered the top of the sky is his most important treasure."

"You killed Qing Yang?"

"And then came here?"

The voice of the little uncle is still calm and peaceful, with a hint of misty, and his face is clearly wearing a mask, and there is no hole in the mask that can expose his eyes, but at this moment, he seems to be staring at Ye Wuque.

"Fang Qingyang didn't kill me."

"I just found two relics belonging to him, and the ancient talisman is one of them."

Ye Wuque replied lightly.

The little uncle did not speak any more, and he sighed again after three or five breaths.

"You didn't lie."

"Qingyang was indeed not killed by you."

When Xiao Shishu said such words, he seemed to have chosen to believe in Ye Wuque.

"Fang Qingyang left a last word. He said that the top of the sky is the place where his little uncle's tomb is located."

"Then can you tell me where is your grave?"

Ye Wuque's voice sounded again, but he said something that made people feel creepy.

Ask a living person where his grave is?

Isn't this weird?

The little uncle in the white jade mask seemed to be taken aback when he heard the words, and then sighed softly: "It should be somewhere in the back..."

The little uncle actually answered.

Ye Wuque nodded gently.

That's right!

Fang Qingyang's little uncle with a white jade mask in front of him was not a living person at all.

It's just a mark of the soul!

From his appearance to when he spoke, he had already fallen into Ye Wuqian's perception, so there was no accident or panic from the beginning to the tail of Ye Wuqian.

The imprint of Xiao Shishu's soul remains on the simple throne under him, and it will be activated instantly as long as someone approaches.

However, Ye Wuque's ability to see through Xiao Shishu was just a soul imprint, but Fang Qingyang couldn't see through it.

Therefore, Fang Qingyang was so surprised and unbelievable!

Why does a person who should only appear in a dream appear in front of him alive?

This is the power of the power of the soul, making you unable to distinguish.

This hand alone was enough to shock people incomparably and let Fang Qingyang sink into it.

Therefore, Fang Qingyang was extremely excited, leaving those words full of desire and excitement in his diary.

"I am here for your tomb."

"But I didn't expect that you left the imprint of the soul, so that made me a lot more convenient."

Ye Wuque spoke again.

"You didn't kill Qing Yang, but you were able to come here, which is enough to prove that you have a little fate with me."

"I'm a person who died long ago. It's been a long time since I was so busy."

"If you have any questions, I will answer them if you can answer them."

Little Master said like this.

And his voice seemed to relax, it seemed that he hadn't manifested for a long time, and he felt a trace of loneliness.

Ye Wuque nodded lightly, and then he stretched out a finger, making it empty.

Hum! !

Suddenly an image gathered together, it was the colorful auspicious clouds!

Keep going!

Nine deaths without regrets!

"Do you remember this pattern?"

Ye Wuque looked at the little uncle, and his bright eyes were deep.

Little Shishu looked above the void, his eyes seemed to be fixed on the pattern of colorful auspicious clouds.

"this is……"

The little uncle let out a whisper.

"I seem to have seen it before, but I don't remember."

Soon, the little uncle gave such an answer, with a slight sigh in his tone.

"Can not remember?"

Ye Wuque's eyes flashed.

"According to Fang Qingyang, there are several secret treasures to be buried in your tomb. Each secret treasure is engraved with colorful auspicious clouds, which is called a colorful secret treasure."

During the words, Ye Wuque flipped his right hand, and the colorful gourd with seven kills from Fang Qingyang suddenly appeared in his hand.

"This gourd is one of them, don't you really remember?"

"Before Fang Qingyang rebelled against the ancient alliance of the gods, he once returned to the top of the sky, entered your grave and took away all the colorful secret treasures."

"Do you really don't remember, or don't you want to say?"

Ye Wuque was holding the Seven-Colored Seven Killing Tiangang Gourd, unpredictable in his bright eyes, staring at the little uncle.

The little uncle didn't move, he seemed to be staring at the colorful gourd, but he remained silent.

"In Fang Qingyang's eyes, you used to be a living person, but then died."

"Because he didn't know from the beginning that you were just a ghost brand."

"But what I am curious about is that there were several quasi-lingzi in the ancient league at that time, why did you just look at Fang Qingyang? Choose to come in contact with him?"

Hearing this, the little uncle finally spoke: "Because he is destined to me, of course, in my remaining vague memory, he should have received the same inheritance, and I have also received it, but it is a different generation, so, This is the connection between us."

"I will become his little uncle."

"Is it?"

Ye Wuque was noncommittal, but just replied lightly.

I saw that he flipped his right hand and put away the colorful gourd.

Then he lifted his steps and went straight forward, and walked past Little Shishu lightly, past the throne, and toward the deeper area behind.

On the throne, the little uncle still sat quietly, he didn't stop Ye Wuqian, and didn't make any movements. In the end, he just let out a sigh.

But Ye Wuque was here, step by step, and came to the deepest part of this peach blossom field in the blink of an eye.

In the center where many peach trees are planted around, a simple and mighty tomb stands quietly.

In front of the grave, a tombstone stood quietly.

Whether it is a tomb or a tombstone, it is spotless and clean, as if someone often comes to clean it up and keep everything.

Ye Wuque approached, his eyes already falling on the erected tombstone.

There is a line of writing on it.

But it is not the identity of the person buried in the tomb, but a sentence.

"Sometimes, luck is also a kind of strength."

Ye Wuque slowly said this sentence, his eyes flickering.

A very simple sentence also explained a very simple truth, but that was not what Ye Wuque cared about.

What he cares about is the twelve handwritings that make up this sentence!

These twelve handwritings were engraved, but from the lines between the lines, it can be seen that these handwritings are beautiful and long, graceful and graceful, with a touch of softness.

in other words!

This is the handwriting left by a woman.