Chapter 312: Where Did the Monk Come From

Bai Lang has never been the sort of guy with a rice‑green worm in his head, nor would he easily spare a beautiful witch—this fellow is even more capricious. But if he intends to kill Wanwan, the witch's beauty is of no use.

At this moment, when a murderous intent flashes on Bai Lang, the climate between heaven and earth instantly turns ice‑cold. It bears the grimness of late autumn and winter, and Bai Lang, carrying that killing intent, lunges at the Wanwan who seems to be floating in the air.

Considering Wanwan's current martial skill, Bai Lang knows she is far from his match—"She's still too raw, not mature enough." If it were her master, perhaps she could contend with Bai Lang. Thus Bai Lang cannot comprehend why Wanwan blocks him now; the witch's thoughts are truly hard to grasp.

Bai Lang steps forward, raising a gust of wind, his arm stretching to grasp Wanwan. This claw's domineering, fierce momentum could even snatch stars from the heavens. Wanwan seems adept at Lightness Skill; she employs the push‑pull of the Heavenly Demon Force Field and the shifting shadows of Illusion Technique, achieving a split‑self that resembles a phantom.

Moreover, she floats like an immortal; at a glance her Lightness Skill far surpasses Bai Lang's—what is Bai Lang, a tiger pouncing? Wanwan is truly a celestial maiden soaring in the void, far stronger than any tiger's strike. Yet in reality Wanwan barely evades Bai Lang's lunge; the tiger‑claw tears the air and cracks the ground, and the half of Wanwan's Heavenly Demon Force Field shatters completely, rendering the Illusion Technique useless.

The Seventeen‑layer Heavenly Demon Skill she has cultivated appears extremely fragile before Bai Lang; his claw‑wind even rips half of her clothing, the remaining cloth unable to cover her body. Though the customs are relatively liberal and Wanwan usually flies barefoot, being exposed is still quite embarrassing for the girl.

So she lets out a startled cry and tries to flee, which is far braver than crouching to shield her modesty—after all, she comes from a brothel‑trained sect. Bai Lang chuckles, "Your figure is quite something. With such skill you dare call it Heavenly Demon Skill? I know the One‑path Heavenly Demon Skill can forge a Heavenly Demon Sword and a Heavenly Demon Golden Body, and ultimately achieve the Heavenly Demon Four Eclipses. Your Illusion Technique is far inferior."

Bai Lang's hand does not pause; he reshapes his claw, then transforms it into a fist that sweeps forward—if it lands on Wanwan, it would be a fragrant demise. It now seems entirely possible, for Wanwan's martial art is truly suppressed by Bai Lang; the Heavenly Demon Force Field's deflection of true Qi is useless, unable to disturb Bai Lang's true Qi.

The force of Bai Lang's fist is like a meteor falling; if Wanwan lacks any special ability, she likely cannot dodge it. Another silhouette appears, slapping out a palm that propels a person toward Bai Lang, while it itself snatches Wanwan and vanishes without a trace.

The person thrust forward should have originally been a handsome middle‑aged man, but now is twisted into a grotesque shape; Bai Lang can even see the venomous hatred on his face—not directed at Bai Lang, but at the one who pushed him.

This man also thrust out both palms, using all his strength to block Bai Lang's punch. "He does seem to have the power of a full sixty‑year cycle, but it's tangled and impure, probably borrowed," Bai Lang comments, while his true Qi, like a heavy hammer, shatters the incoming palm‑splitting force and lands a fist upon the opponent's palms.

A series of soft explosions rang, and the flying fellow's bone joints burst into clouds of dust on his clothing. Bai Lang's unyielding strength, invoking the "Zhen" technique, began to crush the middle‑aged man before him—Bai Lang guessed he might be called Bian Bufu—as the bones from the area struck by his fist started to shatter.

The force penetrated his body; his eyes widened enormously, yet to what use— the fierce, domineering true Qi wrapped his own bones, segment by segment, crushing them and turning his flesh into a paste beneath the skin. Soon the colliding bone force passed his shoulders and began to fan out.

First to suffer were the clavicle and ribs; if the force had simply blasted the organs, Bian Bufu would have died instantly, but the power only caused internal bleeding without rupturing them—Bai Lang's force is peculiar: it is massive against hard resistance, while flesh's toughness exceeds that of organs, so the flesh is pulverized more than the organs.

Bai Lang grins as he withdraws his fist; since the witch Wanwan was rescued, killing this unlucky fool still lets his emitted killing aura not go to waste—White Tiger's strike is meant to kill. Yet after a few breaths, the man shrinks a notch—his leg bones shatter, and his whole body collapses like a deflated sack.

Bai Lang withdraws his fist, watching the man wildly signal with his eyes for a quick finish, but Bai Lang has no intention of a follow‑up strike. He simply watches the fellow gradually collapse, as if struck by the Bone‑Melting Soft Palm's little spring. Since the body has softened, it flows along the ground into the river ditch.

Bai Lang folds his arms and returns to his manor; killing and combat leave him both satisfied and a bit hungry for more—still not enough. Yet this feeling vanished when Wei Zhenzhen stepped out the door. The woman seems accustomed to being a concubine; after rolling in bed with Bai Lang, she now places herself firmly in the concubine's role—apparently she truly harbors no ambition.

Yet this world is already rather bizarre; someone willing to sleep with two dragons simultaneously and bear their children would be considered a scandal even in this era.

The ones stepping out were not only Wei Zhenzhen; since they learned that Wei Zhenzhen could sleep with the White Right Supervisor, other beauties sent by Wang Shichong also emerged, dressed elegantly to welcome Bai Lang's return to the manor.

"I've already seen the Buddhist Sect nun and the Demon Sect witch; they're all clueless scum. Fine, I'll stay in Luoyang for a while, and if the chance arises, I'll try again to infiltrate the Pure Thought Zen Temple," Bai Lang thought.

The second infiltration of the Pure Thought Zen Temple occurs two nights later; Bai Lang suppresses his aura, tiptoeing silently toward the massive jungle. Yet the temple appears affluent—astonishingly, lanterns hang in every main hall, making the night, free of light pollution, look as if the Buddhist halls were lit by celestial lanterns. It seems the Buddhist Sect enjoys this ambience. Their so‑called Buddhist Kingdom is indeed a realm of great illumination.

Bai Lang feels that scaling the wall might be a slight hassle; while he ponders, he spots a monk stepping toward the monastery in the night. The monk looks ordinary, his appearance not handsome but rather a slightly withered middle‑aged man. Upon seeing him, Bai Lang feels no murderous intent at all...