Ding Hao clenched his fist tightly, his heart surging.

　　He swore to himself that one day he would also cultivate the best Xuan Gong, with the best force, alone at the peak, a sword to defeat the heroes, a view of the mountains.

　　Of course, right now he is still just a sweeper boy with underground status.

　　No one noticed him.

　　Leaving the square announcement area and following a winding path, Ding Hao soon arrived at the back mountain area of the Sword Asking Sect.

　　Compared with the magnificent beauty of the front of the mountain like a fairyland, the back of the mountain area is simply a dirty slum.

　　It is a place of thorns, treacherous terrain and strange rocks, like a land of demons.

　　The daily garbage produced by tens of thousands of people up and down the sword clan will be dumped on the other side of this tilted rock forest and under the ten-thousand-foot cliff, thousands of years of accumulation, wind and sun, garbage decay and fermentation, has made this place stink, snakes and rats.

　　The air was filled with a pungent fishy smell, just like hell.

　　But just in this harsh environment of the backwoods rocky forest, but built large and small shacks, densely packed next to each other, as in the former Brazilian slums, where no less than two to three thousand people live.

　　The old Ding Hao lived here at a snail's pace.

　　"It seems that this is the slum area of the Sword Asking Sect, meow, it seems that I can't get rid of the fate of losers in my past life and present life, I can only slowly rebel."

　　According to Ding Hao's fused memories, most of the people living in this garbage piled mass grave were the inferior people of the Ask Sword Sect [Logistics Cleaning Group].

　　These people are not martial artists, do not have strong strength, can not survive in the demon-ridden wilderness, can only rely on humble manual labor to get the blessing of the Sword Asking Sect, living in the back of the mountain, in this dangerous world surrounded by demons, as difficult as ants to survive.

　　The curved path is lined with thatched huts built along the stone walls and stone forests.

　　Wind and water under the sun the surface of the thatch has become a deep black, a thick accumulation of years to meet the face.

　　I do not know worry about the bare bottom of the young children's laughter can be heard everywhere, some thatched huts out of the faint fragrance, curling smoke rises, in this dirty and smelly small area is full of vitality.

　　Along the way, there were many people greeting Ding Hao warmly.

　　All are friends made by the previous owner of this body.

　　With a smile on his face, Ding Hao responded to each person in a warm and friendly manner.

　　In the twinkling of an eye, across the narrow path, the back of the slum near the garbage dump, and three or four kilometers further in, is a deep, bottomless abyss of cliffs.

　　And in the edge of the garbage heap, but surprisingly have a piece of bright green colorful colored money.

　　Dozens of bright green saplings clattered and chanted in the late sunset breeze, like a group of soft green elves dancing, and a small green fenced yard surrounded by two carefully built thatched huts in a staggered manner.

　　Although the whole compound is the closest to the garbage heap in the slum area, this green is like a green state in the middle of the desert, which makes people brighten up at first sight and even their mood instantly gets much better.

　　This is Ding Hao's [home].

　　He pushed open the fence gate and gently entered the small courtyard.

　　The courtyard is neatly placed in more than twenty pots, which are planted with extremely common wildflowers, the roadside of the former mountain dojo, such wildflowers can be seen everywhere, unnoticeable, and will even be pulled out as weeds, but placed here, but it is beautiful.

　　Ding Hao fiddled with the flowers and plants in the yard for a while before pushing the door into the hut.

　　The sunset shines in from behind the window pane, and the light is slightly dim.

　　There was little furniture in the house.

　　A broken wooden bed covered with thin cloth, a missing leg of the eight immortal table, a stone piled up stove, black iron pot, a simple stove, some broken tile jars, which contains pickles and cured meat and other things, thatched walls hung with some simple daily utensils, have been very worn out.

　　The only thing that stands out is a small women's cotton jacket hanging on the wall of the front door.

　　This about five or six-year-old girl wearing a cotton jacket, the fabric is extremely rough earth cloth, workmanship is also very ordinary, but washed very clean, spotless, the red color, to this monotonous shabby little hut, adding a warmth and color.

　　When Ding Hao pushed the door in, the first thing he saw was this little cotton jacket.

　　These are the clothes worn by her sister, Ding Keer, before she disappeared.

　　Memory, it was three years ago that snowy afternoon, when Ding Hao completed the day's duty back, found waiting at home sister, suddenly disappeared.

　　He searched everywhere throughout the slums like a madman.

　　Later, many people said that they saw a mysterious person dressed in white, like an immortal, somehow appeared in the thatched hut, passing by the hut, took away the little loli Ding Ke'er who was crying.

　　Then later, before that Ding Hao, in the thatched hut above the wooden pillar, found a line before he neglected the word nephrite.

　　"This woman has a destiny with me and can cultivate my great path. South domain, Mu Huang Tianji leave word."

　　The handwriting is natural, straight through the column and out, containing strange power, ordinary people look long, will be dizzy, many people in the slums look, are determined, is definitely an extremely powerful supreme person left by.

　　Just who is this Mu Huang Tianji?

　　And no one knows.

　　The only thing that can be sure is that the southern domain, very far, very far, so far that ordinary people, even if they ride a fast horse, do not eat or drink without stopping, all their lives, can not go to.

　　And after the disappearance of Ding Ke'er, the little red cotton jacket, it holds all the thoughts of the former Ding Hao for three years.

　　At this moment, in the moment of seeing the little red cotton jacket, a memory like a tidal wave unstoppable surge to Ding Hao's mind, and sister dependent on the fragment, like a film footage flashed rapidly, while a four years deep into the marrow, like a growing weed, in the depths of Ding Hao's soul irresistibly spread out.

　　"Brother, why doesn't mom and dad want us anymore? Where did they go?"

　　"Brother, Ke'er is hungry, how about you make congee for Ke'er?"

　　"Wow, what a beautiful cotton jacket, brother, is it really for Ke'er? Oooh, thank you brother!"

　　"Brother, when I grow up, I will make delicious food for my brother every day ......"

　　"Brother ......"

　　Little Lori's familiar crisp voice, as if still lingering in the ears, Ding Hao froze in the doorway, tears could not stop slipping from the eyes, the heart produced an almost unstoppable impulse, so he now wants to immediately rush out and get his sister back.

　　Ding Hao did not want to cry.

　　But it was out of its own hands.

　　An uncontrollable sadness and impulse pervaded his entire soul.

　　Ding Hao knows that this is because of the memory fusion, the former owner of this body's deep affection and longing for his missing sister is affecting his emotions.