Chapter 403: The Incident Unfolds

Bai Lang really wanted to say he hadn't seen it, didn't know, and also really wanted to say I know where this thief is, sir, Di Si Wei! But in the end he only said he didn't have much impression. The handsome man who produced the wanted poster smiled half‑heartedly. "Oh?" As for the hyperactive skinny guy, he simply laughed, "He's also a heart‑not‑dead one, so why not let me have a good talk with this little brother about reason."

The handsome man's eyebrows twitched slightly, "It wouldn't be good to say we broke it, right? If this gets out, our reputation would be… not pretty." The skinny guy kept laughing, "Amitabha, I haven't done this kind of thing for years. Now I've long cultivated my body and nature, and I'm discussing the sutras with this little brother; he'll surely tell us everything he knows."

The back‑and‑forth between the two made it seem as if Bai Lang were already dead; his hands were trembling. So he simply shut the door, leaving the two outside.

Useful? Probably not at all. Every cell in Bai Lang's body was screaming to his will, urging him to run or die. In his eyes, the two men in black were immensely towering, like two majestic peaks whose summits he could not see. The impression was the same as when he saw the demon monk Da Dian and his thief‑general master Zhou Shubi; with his shallow cultivation he could not tell which of the four was superior.

"Ask… ask the world… is… is this mountain the highest? Or is there a height higher than the heavens?" the fellow sang in a trembling voice, expressing his feeling. Even with a door between them, Bai Lang could feel the smiles on the two outside; he was quite familiar with that smile—he had worn the same smiling‑tiger face when fighting and killing.

The next moment, Bai Lang found himself standing on a rustic, round arena built of large blue stones, surrounded by a sky full of stars. This was not martial arts at all, but pure sorcery; the world had no means to counter such methods. Bai Lang was on one side of the arena, opposite him was the shaggy‑faced, thunder‑mouth fellow. At a glance Bai Lang let out a wry smile—this golden‑haired monkey, indistinguishable from Mr. Zhang, was all too familiar, meeting almost every summer and winter vacation.

On the other side, a tall, handsome man stood with his arms folded; the vertical scar on his forehead instantly reminded Bai Lang of the notorious Qingyuan Miao Dao Zhenjun, and now no further thought was needed—if he could fight, he would fight, then wait to be smashed to pieces. Even if he unleashed all his strength—indeed, here he could wield the power of an Innate Expert, a formidable force—but even that was still weaker than the dying blue lion on Ling Mountain back then.

But the two before him, either one was probably far stronger than the blue lion, so Bai Lang was bound to be in trouble. Standing helplessly was not his style, so Bai Lang assumed his opening stance, a white‑tiger illusion roared wildly, and a windstorm inexplicably swept the arena. At that moment, channeling Internal Force felt exhilarating, the world's constraints were also quite strong. Suddenly breaking free, Bai Lang felt his power rise a notch, becoming smoother and more harmonious.

Bai Lang's aura blazed, while opposite him was only the skinny monkey in a suit; the monkey scratched his ear, grinned, and thrust a fist—this was the Buddha of Battle's preaching. The punch never landed; after extending, his fingertip flicked. The furry fingertip barely absorbed force, not really snapping out, more like bending then straightening.

Bai Lang spun and scooped his way out.......

A wall rose behind the arena, and Bai Lang was slammed into it. He could only exhale. "Good grand‑son, don't pretend; with all that flashy kung‑fu, you're nowhere near Old Sun's light‑touch kill." The monkey crossed his hands, twirled a staff, and leapt as he spoke. Bai Lang strained to pull himself out of the wall, blood still flowing from his mouth, "Damn it! At least seventeen or eighteen of my bones are broken!" Yet it was truly just a light touch...

Otherwise the monkey would pull out a mourning‑staff, and a single swing would make Bai Lang... "Wait, that stick is only about seven tons, maybe I could withstand it?" Bai Lang's wild imagination resurfaced.

"You clueless grand‑son, isn't the thief on the sea‑capture ledger actually your teacher? He has violated Heavenly Court edicts dozens, even hundreds of times, and rampaged on Ling Mountain; we must bring him to justice. You're his disciple; since you're involved, come with us." The monkey started off rather flippant, but the farther he went the more serious and lively Buddha‑like demeanor emerged. His words grew increasingly solemn, and when he spoke to Bai Lang it seemed equally serious.

"There's no such rule in the world! When a master errs, the disciple bears the blame! Besides, I haven't even had time to commit any crimes! So, monkey, tell me which Heavenly Court edict I've broken!" Bai Lang insisted on replying. At that moment San Yan Wa laughed, "You're that guy's disciple, so you've already broken an edict! And you want to argue about it? First study the Heavenly Court laws, find a good lawyer, then speak."

Sun Houzi didn't go any further to beat Bai Lang; Bai Lang's luck clanged as he aimed at his broken bones—indeed he was using the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield, clamping the fractured bones with Internal Force and muscle as a routine move. He stood there, seemingly with no chance to flee—he didn't even know how to escape this world. "Yo! Are you two looking for me, old master?" a brazen, overbearing voice rang out among the star‑filled sky.

"Don't wait for your thief‑general? We already captured your disciple." The speaker was again Sun Houzi; the monkey shook his body as if thrilled, reaching into his ear and pulling out a massive staff. Bai Lang's heart sank to his gut; Heaven seemed to pity him as he was already prepared to go to prison—logically the Demon‑Slaying Platform shouldn't be that far? His master appeared, still descending from the heavens.

Wearing a pair of multi‑ear hemp shoes on his feet, he stepped onto the arena and sent out a shockwave. The counterfeit‑and‑authentic Haogui Zhou Shubi made his entrance. The shockwave forced Yang Jian and the monkey‑head to adopt a defensive stance. This baboon‑like demon was bigger than Bai Lang; he turned back, grinned, and said, "I told you, being my disciple is unlucky, what do you think? Want to break the gate and betray the master? Rest assured I won't take back your cultivation—hahaha."

"Ridiculous! I, Bai Lang, the White Junior Guard, am that kind of person? You thief‑general should have been caught and jailed earlier!" Bai Lang was also hard‑headed. Zhou Shubi, far from angry, laughed even louder. "Old Sun's hand itches, this Er Lang True Lord will take care of it!" The monkey‑head could no longer hold back and leapt, swinging a staff down.