Chapter 1883

There's no choice but to stop slacking.

"Instruct all monks in the temple: those willing to cultivate the Bixie Sword Art may do so."

"Yes, Fang Zheng."

The monks immediately dispersed, spreading the abbot's decree to others.

Lin Pingzhi had spread the Bixie Sword Art throughout the world, naturally including Shaolin.

In Shaolin Temple, the Bixie Sword Art was not just one or two copies.

In fact, monks in Shaolin had long been secretly cultivating the Bixie Sword Art, merely keeping it quiet.

With Fang Zheng's decree spreading, all monks began slaughtering birds to practice swordplay; the temple, once filled with yang energy, instantly became saturated with yin energy.

The monks' movements also grew distinctly effeminate.

Swordlight soared, dreamlike and illusory.

The entire temple transformed beyond recognition.

In truth, it wasn't just Shaolin that had changed.

Major sects like Emei, Wudang, and Huashan had long begun cultivating the Bixie Sword Art.

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Notably, Emei did not accept only female disciples, but both men and women.

Haven't you heard? Abbess Miejue had a senior brother.

It was precisely because of her brother's death that Miejue developed such hostility toward the Ming Cult.

At this time, over a hundred years had passed since Miejue's era.

But Emei's rules had not changed; disciples were still both male and female.

Lin Pingzhi ended his cultivation and rose to descend the mountain.

He had not walked far when he heard distant clashes of combat, the ringing of blades never ceasing.

"You also know the Bixie Sword Art?"

"Of course! Today, those who don't know the Bixie Sword Art are the minority."

Two soft, feminine voices spoke, followed immediately by another burst of clashing blades.

Within seconds, a scream rang out—the fight was over.

Lin Pingzhi's emotions grew complicated; as he approached, he saw two men clad in red robes, one driving his sword through the other's throat, the other piercing his heart—both ended in mutual destruction.

Because their bodies were locked together, though dead, they did not fall; instead, their eyes bulged wide, refusing to close.

Lin Pingzhi looked on, a chill rising in his chest.

He had roamed the Jianghu for decades and had taken many lives.

Logically, he should not fear corpses.

But seeing these men now, he felt his flesh grow cold and his heart tremble.

He had barely left the mountain and already witnessed Jianghu bloodshed.

How many will die because of one hundred thousand copies of the Bixie Sword Manual?

In his youth, he had been driven by family vengeance, his personality twisted, killing many in the Jianghu.

But the people he killed had provoked him or held grudges against him.

Do these Jianghu men now have any grudge against him?

Thinking of this, Lin Pingzhi felt a pang of pity.

Even though he knew that in the Jianghu, every single person, without exception, was hardly innocent.

But when the number swelled to tens of thousands, even millions, it still sent shivers down the spine.

These were tens of thousands of fellow humans, not tens of thousands of chickens or ducks!

"I thought too simply!"

Lin Pingzhi shook his head and sighed, "I only wanted to kill everyone who coveted the sword manual. Now I see, the karmic retribution is too heavy."