Chapter 100

Feng Yi, with the strength of one man, faced the Golden Wheel National Master and a crowd of lamas and warriors, killed Huo Du, captured Da Er Ba, came and went as he pleased, simply treating the Esoteric Sect and Mongol Warriors as nothing.

The crowd, besides being angry, felt utterly humiliated; upon seeing the Golden Wheel National Master give chase, they all shouted loudly and pursued after him.

Yet Feng Yi and the National Master both possessed top-tier lightness skill and were both individuals of formidable inner strength; their speed was truly faster than a galloping horse, vanishing like light smoke. When the crowd chased into the forest, they saw only broken trees, as if a hurricane had passed; seeing this, they were greatly astonished.

It turned out the Golden Wheel National Master's lightness skill ultimately could not match that of the Ancient Tomb Sect; seeing Feng Yi carrying Da Er Ba, he also could not catch up, thinking he needed to show some might lest people look down on him, his Golden Wheel Cauldron clanged as he shot it toward Feng Yi's back.

Feng Yi's lightness skill surpassed the National Master's, and his inner strength was not inferior either, but with the extra Da Er Ba weighing over a hundred catties on him, the two ran at about equal pace, always keeping a distance of ten zhang.

The Golden Wheel National Master's wheel force was very strong, but as it flew toward Feng Yi's back, Feng Yi tapped with his iron fan, using the 'four liang moves a thousand jin' method, merely deflecting the wheel away.

This time he did not seek to counterattack, only letting the wheel change direction; its momentum naturally did not diminish in the least, still fierce and unmatched.

With a 'crack', the thick old pine, arms-wide, snapped at the roots, showing just how astonishing the National Master's throwing force was.

Feng Yi's feet did not stop, and he shouted loudly: 'Great Monk, you sneak-attack from behind—what kind of Great National Master is that?'

The Golden Wheel National Master spat and cursed: 'You are so vile and shameless, using my disciple as a hostage—what kind of hero are you?'

Feng Yi laughed heartily and said: 'National Master, it seems we are a mismatched pot and lid, each set matching the other! Wonderful, wonderful!'

The National Master had just lunged forward, taken hold of his golden wheel in hand, heard these words, and was so angry he nearly fainted.

He awed the Western Regions, his whole life receiving reverence and flattery; in Mongolia he was as respected as an emperor, even Kublai Dai did not dare slight him—yet who would have thought he'd encounter Feng Yi, this calamity! The National Master coldly said: 'If I do not kill you today, heavenly principle cannot be tolerated!' Then he took out a silver wheel from his bosom, also engraved with the Diamond Sect's mantra, and this time sent both wheels flying.

The Golden Wheel National Master possessed five wheels of gold, silver, copper, iron, and lead in his hand; when truly facing a formidable foe, he could unleash all five at once, but he had previously used only the golden wheel, and no one could withstand three of his moves, thus earning him the title 'Golden Wheel National Master'; the remaining silver, copper, iron, and lead wheels had never been used, and in fact, given his martial cultivation, he ought to be called the 'Five Wheel National Master'.

Seeing that Feng Yi truly bore extraordinary skill, he put aside his contempt, his true anger aroused, and then drew out the silver wheel to attack Feng Yi together.

Attacking from behind to front, he already had a great advantage, and with deep inner strength, this simultaneous flight of the two wheels, separable and combinable at will, possessed absolutely unmatched power.

Yet Feng Yi's 'Divine Illumination Technique' and 'Blood Blade Classic' had reached the state of perfected mastery, the 'Tendon-Changing and Bone-Forging Chapter' of the 'Nine Yin True Classic' also cultivated to the third section; his inner strength was so profound that none in the world could match it, facing the flying double-wheel attack, he remained calm and unhurried, his folding fan waving casually, his technique elusive, like plucking five strings.

The Golden Wheel's double wheels fiercely attacked more than ten times, yet not only failed to injure him, but he deflected the double wheels askew, with incessant cracking sounds, trees shattered, thick and thin branches falling like rain, hindering the Golden Wheel National Master's advance.

The Golden Wheel secretly sighed, knowing Feng Yi had not placed Da Er Ba behind him as a shield; this was his arrogance, not something he failed to think of.

In this way he could not wound him, so he did not launch the wheel from his hand.

Feng Yi, seeing no wheel flying, laughed: 'Exactly as it should be; let us find a good place to fight fairly, so as to display true ability!'

'Good!' the National Master also laughed loudly: 'Old monk fears you will not succeed!'

The two leapt up and down in the mountains like flying, clouds and misty pines, wind clamor and forest cries, Russian clear springs flying; such wondrous mountain scenery also lessened some hostility in their hearts, and they ran for dozens of li.

Feng Yi far off saw a hundred-foot perilous cliff, layered peaks verdant, solitary peak rising verdant, and laughed loudly: 'National Master, have you ever heard of the great peng rising with the wind in a day, soaring straight up ninety thousand li?' He tapped his foot and headed straight for the summit.

Feng Yi blocked the Golden Wheel's palm with force, knowing his power was truly profound, thus realizing that dealing with the Golden Wheel alone was not difficult.

But if he wanted the Dragon Elephant Prajna Technique, even if he won, the Golden Wheel National Master, in front of the crowd, would certainly not yield out of face; he must certainly be lured to a deserted place to achieve the goal.

To this end, he deliberately informed everyone of the matter of Huo Du leaking Esoteric Sect martial arts, so that he would know the danger yet still be compelled to pursue him.

Although the Golden Wheel National Master's conduct was somewhat base, he was extremely proud of his martial reputation; this time he wanted to establish prestige in the Central Plains before everyone, and moreover, this famed 'Slayer of Mongols' was all the more a rare find.

Yet the Golden Wheel National Master lifted his gaze to the peak, seeing it rise tall and outstanding among the mountains, aloof and peerless, solemnly facing the heavens, its momentum extraordinarily perilous, his heart immediately filled with doubt.

He knew well that when Feng Yi ascended the mountain, if he blocked him with stones, it would be taking full advantage; but thinking that two of his disciples had died, one fallen into human hands, those people, even while carrying a single person, still dared to climb—if he himself did not dare, what talk was there of establishing prestige in the Central Plains? He then laughed: 'As for Li Taibai, how could this old monk not know?' He flicked his sleeves and also surged straight upward.

Climbing and pursuing most tests lightness skill; Feng Yi had an extra Da Er Ba in hand, which was originally extremely unfair, yet he knew well that the Ancient Tomb Sect's lightness skill was number one in the world, and he himself possessed the supreme martial arts of both righteous and evil schools from the Divine Illumination Technique and Blood Blade Classic.

Merely surpassing the Golden Wheel in mountain climbing is nothing remarkable; only with an extra Da Er Ba, being the first to reach the summit, counts as true ability.

Feng Yi grabbed Da Er Ba with one hand, stepped on stone and clung to vines; his climbing speed was not slow, yet the Golden Wheel National Master was no ordinary person, able to rely on his two hands, naturally climbing like flying, steadily gaining the upper hand and gradually approaching Feng Yi.

Feng Yi glanced back and thought: 'You just flew enough wheels behind me; now it's my turn!' He casually flicked out a fist-sized stone, which whooshed toward the National Master.

The National Master suddenly felt a strong wind hit his face, drew out his golden wheel and swung; with a 'clang', stone fragments scattered, striking his face and causing faint pain; he was immediately startled, and upon seeing Feng Yi's motion, his mind nearly fell into disorder.

It turned out Feng Yi, occupying the high ground, had gained the advantage, shaped like a great bird, soaring and leaping, sometimes left, sometimes right, his legs kicking out, continually striking down some stones.

The National Master's golden wheel swung, the cauldron clanging repeatedly; only saw sand particles flying, and how could it injure him.

But Feng Yi occupied the advantage of timing and terrain; the stones and trees on the cliff continued to roll down unstoppably, and to resist them head‑on would inevitably be passive on every move until defeat.

The Golden Wheel National Master no longer dared to meet them head‑on, twisting his body left and right to dodge incoming objects; yet when stones and trees swept past, the swift wind scraped his face, causing pain—if he were struck, today he would meet his end here. But at this moment he was as if on a tiger's back, unable to dismount, forced to grit his teeth and climb upward, his heart filled with secret resentment.

Feng Yi suppressed the Golden Wheel so it could not exert full strength upward, while he himself leapt up swiftly, his whole body like a flying bird, stepping on stones, branches, vines that could lend force, whooshing straight up, gradually approaching the summit.

The lamas and warriors under the Golden Wheel National Master, inferior in skill, could not keep up with Feng Yi and the National Master, yet they still followed the traces left behind.

From afar they saw a black shadow and a red shadow slowly rising on the cliff face; all were terrified, yet they dared not follow. After all, if the cliff top had large stones, and Feng Yi pushed some down, whoever was hit could not survive; as Feng Yi neared the summit, the fierce wind howled, the clouds, mountains, pines, and stones all became illusory, and they no longer bothered to obstruct the National Master, merely exerting themselves to climb upward.

Upon reaching the summit, Feng Yi exhaled a mouthful of turbid air, and saw the peak was broad, spanning several tens of zhang, the terrain flat, surrounded by ancient pines standing tall, their branches twisted and graceful, bones exquisite and wind‑spirit.

With true qi circulating and his mind clear and empty, reflecting the reality of all directions, he casually tossed Da Er Ba under a tree; this person of over a hundred catties seemed like straw.

Feng Yi ran to another cliff edge, saw that descending posed no obstacle, untied his waist gourd, took a few gulps of wine, and saw distant mountains, verdant peaks towering, clouds encircling mist; he thought: 'This truly is a good place!'

Suddenly a strong wind struck; the National Master acted swiftly, already having climbed to the peak, and from afar delivered a palm of Emptiness-Piercing.

Feng Yi's hands and feet remained still, yet his body floated sideways upward, standing on a treetop, and he laughed: 'National Master, do not be anxious or impatient!'

The National Master's brows furrowed, he glanced at the distant Da Er Ba, his gaze sharp as steel needles, piercing Feng Yi's face, and he coldly laughed: 'You lured me here to this place, is it not just for this moment?'

Feng Yi fell silent for a moment, then gave him a slight smile and said: 'National Master, I have long heard that the Esoteric Sect possesses a technique called Dragon Elephant Prajna Technique; I have heard it grants the strength of dragons and elephants, and in my heart I secretly admire it, dreaming that one day I might witness this marvelous learning!'

The National Master gave a cold snort and said coldly: 'Old monk is already here; do you still fear you will not get to see it?'

Feng Yi laughed: 'I am still young and my experience shallow, yet I truly harbor the desire to learn the Dragon Elephant Technique; having just seen the National Master's divine skill, it is indeed rare in the world. But my heart is not only that; today I killed one of your disciples and have heard your sect's martial arts, so you will surely kill me!'

The National Master coldly said: 'Are you afraid then?'

Feng Yi shook his head and laughed: 'If I were afraid, I would not exert this effort; I am simply a gentleman before a petty person. If I were to lose today, life or death as you wish, I would bring it upon myself; but if you were to lose to me, I would not kill you, but you must hand over the Dragon Elephant Prajna Technique and return to the Western Regions.'

A hint of mockery appeared in the National Master's brows; he was about to readily agree, but then thought this person full of schemes—if one move went awry, could he really accept his terms?

This is indeed of great importance! Firstly, the Dragon Elephant Prajna Technique is the supreme protective divine skill of the Diamond Sect.

Secondly, for the sake of the Nyingma Sect's foundation and myriad followers, how could he dare agree to the condition of returning to the Western Regions without authorization?

Even if he could renege without credibility, he still would not dare utter those words lightly.

The National Master burst into loud laughter and continued: 'Old monk has long dwelt in the Western Regions, rarely venturing into the Central Plains; although in the remote frontier, yet he often hears people speak of the Central Plains martial world teeming with talent, among whom the East Heretic, West Poison, South Emperor, North Beggar, and Central Divine Adept are the most accomplished.'

Today meeting you, such a formidable opponent, also makes the journey to the Central Plains not in vain.

You clearly hide many secrets, unwilling to speak openly—what is your surname and name, what do you really look like? I, the old monk, know nothing at all. My Dragon‑Elephant Prajna Skill is the secret art of my esoteric sect; how could I possibly pass it on to those who hide their heads and cover their faces?

The Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill consists of thirteen layers; the first layer is very shallow and easy, so even a dull-witted person, once taught, can master it within one or two years.

The second layer is twice as deep as the first, requiring three or four years; the third layer is twice as deep as the second, requiring seven or eight years. It doubles each time, so progress becomes harder the further one goes. After reaching the fifth layer, to advance another layer often requires thirty years or more of bitter practice.

In the Vajra Sect, eminent monks and extraordinary talents have appeared generation after generation, yet no one has ever cultivated the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill beyond the tenth layer.

This skill progresses step by step; in principle there is no reason it cannot be mastered. If someone could live several thousand years, they would surely reach the thirteenth layer, but human lifespans are limited, so the Vajra Sect's high monks wishing to reach the seventh or eighth layer before their allotted years end must rush, which often lands them in the great peril of haste making waste.

The Golden Wheel National Master secretly studied and trained bitterly, advancing with astonishing speed; at only sixty years old he has already reached the ninth layer.

During the Northern Song dynasty, a Tubo high monk once cultivated to the ninth layer, then continued with brave diligence; upon reaching the tenth layer, inner demons arose suddenly, he could not control himself, and finally danced madly for seven days and nights, severing his own meridians and dying.

According to the Dragon Elephant Prajna Sutra, at that point each palm strike possesses the strength of nine dragons and nine elephants; the National Master confidently believes he has no equal under heaven, so even reaching the tenth layer would be superfluous.

This time coming south, his aim is to defeat the Central Plains' masters and proclaim his might in the martial world; however, Feng Yi possesses such marvelous martial arts, causing his resolve to waver, no longer as arrogantly confident as before, and he now thinks he must find out Feng Yi's details at any cost, and if he cannot, he will take revenge later!

Feng Yi laughed heartily, wiped off the human-skin mask from his face, and said: 'I am Feng Yi. National Master, you have brought your supreme skill eastward to aid the Mongols in contending for the Central Plains, but as a Han Chinese I must oppose you with force, hence my deed of slaughtering Mongols.'

Speaking, his ears twitched slightly, his expression turned solemn, and he said solemnly: 'Today many masters have gathered; we shall see whether your Western Region's wondrous skill is formidable or my Central Plains martial arts are superior—today the outcome will be decided!'

Such a rare opportunity—if we two do not add a grand stake, we would waste this excellent moment and betray our shared ambition; would that not be a lifelong regret?

Feng Yi never intended to conceal his real name; he simply did not wish to tell others.

Removing the mask also served to inform the Golden Wheel of his sincerity, and of course to prevent certain people from thinking him cowardly and his actions base.

Yet this act left the Golden Wheel National Master stunned, eyes wide and mouth agape.

One saw Feng Yi, not yet twenty, handsome and graceful, heroic aura shining, standing still on a large tree, truly like a jade tree in the wind. At that moment dusk approached, the sunset glow like gold, as if he stood in the setting sun's light, resembling an immortal.

Even though the Golden Wheel National Master had already heard he was young, he never expected him to be so youthful; he could not help but feel myriad emotions, silently praising: 'The world is vast, indeed talents emerge in succession; for such an unimaginable feat, how could I have dreamed of it in Mongolia? If given him a few more years, how could I be his opponent?'

Alas! I am a frog at the bottom of a well, having slighted the heroes of the world. He also felt somewhat dispirited.

The Golden Wheel National Master pondered long, then chuckled and said: 'Feng Layperson, I am of the Red Sect's Nyingma tradition; could you belong to the White Sect's Kagyu, the Flower Sect's Sakya, or the Yellow Sect's Gelug?'

Esoteric Buddhism divides into several major schools, openly and secretly contending, with no interaction; now that Feng Yi covets the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, he assumes the other party belongs to a different school. After all, the Blood Sword Scripture martial art Feng Yi just displayed is indeed an esoteric teaching, without doubt.

Feng Yi replied solemnly: 'What I have studied is extraordinarily broad and mixed; moreover, the martial way, though myriad changes, never leaves its source, ultimately all paths converge. Even if my martial art occasionally resembles esoteric Buddhism, to insist I originate from that tradition would be rash.'

The Golden Wheel National Master's face alternated between bright and dark; after a long silence, he clasped his hands and smiled with great poise: 'Feng Layperson, someone your age who can conceal his abilities and not be moved by fame is truly rare. Though your martial prowess has reached such a level that your future accomplishments will far surpass mine, at present you may not necessarily be able to defeat me.'

Even if you could defeat me, you would still not obtain the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill. If you truly desire it, you need only agree to one condition!'

Feng Yi asked: 'What condition?'

The Golden Wheel National Master slowly said: 'As long as you, at the Central Plains martial arts assembly, become my disciple and inherit my mantle, I will not only give you the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, but also grant you the wealth of enemy states and worldly glory and riches, for you to take as you please.'

He employed both soft and hard tactics, both elevating Feng Yi and carrying a deep threat.

A faint, hardly perceptible smile flickered at the corner of Feng Yi's mouth as he said: 'I have slain many Mongol officials, and also killed your fine disciple—can you still allow me to become your student?'

The Golden Wheel National Master replied lightly: 'In this matter, I have my own considerations.'

Those who leave home have no offspring; all their abilities rely on disciples to transmit the lineage, and the passing down of the mantle is a matter of utmost importance.

The Golden Wheel National Master has taken three disciples in his lifetime: the eldest, accomplished in both civil and military affairs, of exceptional talent, whom the Master originally intended to pass the mantle to, but unfortunately died early; the second, Darba, is honest, simple, and steadfast, possessing only divine strength, unable to grasp the profound and mysterious internal arts; the third, Prince Huodu, is dead.

The National Master possesses divine skills; after a hundred years, would this unparalleled martial art not vanish into obscurity? Seeing Feng Yi's excellent qualities, rarely seen in a lifetime, although he has slain Huodu and some officials, it is not worth worrying about.

For Tubo and Mongolian esoteric Buddhism have long held the belief in reincarnation; although the Dalai Lama and Panchen Lama's reincarnation lines had not yet begun, the idea that after death one is reborn and the spirit does not perish has long been firmly believed by practitioners of esoteric Buddhism.

Although the Golden Wheel National Master is Mongolian, after leaving home he studied Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism; his eldest disciple died before twenty, and Darba and Huodu never met him, only knowing of such a matter.

Darba ranks second under the National Master's seat, and Huodu third, precisely for this reason.

If Feng Yi were to become his disciple, one need only say he is the reincarnation of the eldest disciple, and all problems would be readily resolved.

Should the Mongol elite question it, if Feng Yi were not a prodigy who brought his arts with him in rebirth, how could he possess such martial skill at this age? Moreover, being a Central Plains person, how could Tantric martial arts be so proficient?

Therefore, as long as Feng Yi agrees to become a disciple, the Golden Wheel National Master can explain everything from any angle.

Feng Yi smiled and said: 'I appreciate the National Master's high regard, but I dislike having more than one father.'

I have expressed my intentions to you beforehand, merely out of respect for you as a sect master, observing courtesy before combat.

This is called stating clearly then not contending; if later I give offense, I hope you will forgive me.

The National Master said coldly: 'Then make your move; let me see what abilities you possess at your young age.'

'Good!' Feng Yi exhaled, exerted force with his toes, the branch beneath him sank, his body shot forward like an arrow, and he threw a punch at the National Master.

The National Master watched Feng Yi descend headfirst from above, relying on his status as a grand master, seeing the opponent wield no weapon nor use a wheel, only preparing with bare hands.

However, when Feng Yi threw his punch, there was no sound of wind from the fist, nor any perceptible surge of hidden force.

The Golden Wheel National Master startled in his heart; after all he was a generation's martial arts master, he hastily retreated two steps, clasped his hands, and still laughed loudly: 'Excellent fist technique; today's battle will more than satisfy my lifetime!'

In an instant, a muffled thunder-like sound rang out; only the National Master's wide monk's robe moved without wind, his whole body underwent a wave, his stature suddenly shrank by three inches, but immediately returned to normal.

Feng Yi also flipped out in a somersault, tracing a beautiful arc, thinking: 'This old fellow is indeed formidable; my Shadowless Divine Fist has reached the pinnacle of refined perfection, issuing forth silently, capable of shattering stones and breaking trees within two zhang, yet I cannot harm him!' His feet had not yet landed when he suddenly floated forward, skimming low toward the National Master.

The National Master said: 'Slowly, slowly! Allow me to utter a few words; Layperson, if you truly wish to fight, you may do so later without delay.'

Feng Yi, no rascal, immediately halted his hands and said: 'What else is there to say?'

The National Master, whose feet had just sunk more than three inches into the ground, lifted his deeply buried feet, took a step forward, and said: 'Layperson, this fist method of yours I have rarely heard of, never seen; does it have a name?'

Feng Yi slowly replied: 'Shadowless Divine Fist.'

The National Master nodded: 'When this fist is issued, there is no wind, no sound; it injures unknowingly, and one cannot tell where the opponent's fist power is directed, making it extremely hard to avoid—truly deserving the name Shadowless; I have received your teaching.'

The Shadowless Divine Fist relies entirely on profound internal energy, emitting a silent, yielding yin force; only after the hidden energy is released and strikes the body does it generate an immensely powerful rebounding shock that damages the viscera.

Because that hidden energy arrives without any forewarning, even a highly skilled martial artist cannot anticipate its onset beforehand, relying solely on prior precautions; if this art is used for ambush, it is at its most vicious.

Just now the National Master sensed something amiss, secretly circulated his qi in readiness, using the gesture of clasped palms he had already channeled decades of refined Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill to shield his body, parrying a move; yet he still felt a residual force permeate his body, like a vast, warm spring breeze, which is why he suddenly shrank three inches to dispel that excess force.

Feng Yi gave a long laugh: 'All that needed to be said has been said; today let us see whether my Shadowless Divine Fist can match your Dragon Elephant Prajna Palm.' Speaking, he threw a punch like lightning, straight at the National Master's chest.

The National Master gathered his power and lifted a palm to meet the attack.

This time both exerted their full strength; fist and palm met solidly, yet produced not the slightest sound. However, internal energy surged like a raging torrent, violently striking the opponent; the National Master shot forth like an arrow released from a bow, barely landing on the cliff edge, half a foot from falling into the abyss, golden stars flashing before his eyes, his qi and blood churning, he murmured inwardly: 'Had I not personally tried it, I could never have imagined that such overbearing, robust internal energy exists in the world. What a splendid Shadowless Divine Fist, what a fine Mongolslayer, what a magnificent Feng Yi!'

In the National Master's slightly regretful expression, there also seemed to be a fighting spirit stirred by his opponent.

Feng Yi also felt the opponent's palm as solid as cast iron, and involuntarily his body swayed, he stepped back a step, a surge of hot blood rushed to his head, his true qi immediately circulated, returning to normal, and he called out: 'Good, again!'

Both fists flashed like lightning and illusion, raised twice.

(End of chapter)