Chapter 101: Silver Tongue, Turning Hands into Clouds

Feng Yi's fist power issued forth as he willed, extremely fierce; the Golden Wheel National Master had already been shocked by Feng Yi's astonishing inner power, and now, being at the cliff's edge, he dared not meet it head‑on—his body went boneless, he floated sideways several zhang, waving both palms.

His internal and external arts had both reached the pinnacle; his Palm of Splitting Void was immensely mighty, its wind reaching several zhang, its force still formidable. Only the sound of two whooshes was heard, like a great wind blowing; even the pine trees several zhang away swayed once, needles falling like rain.

Seeing this momentum, Feng Yi was also startled; he didn't bother with old moves, circling the Golden Wheel Master without touching the ground, and struck six punches in rapid succession—swish, swish, swish.

These six punches were the Great Subduing Demon Fist; their force stacked in succession, momentum like pushing waves to aid the surge.

The National Master felt the force rush at his face, his eyes dazed; relying solely on the technique of listening to sound to discern position, he sensed the opponent's movement, avoided the solid and struck the void, flying back and forth, employing the Dragon Elephant Prajna Palm while retreating to dispel the opponent's fist power.

Unexpectedly, the more they fought, the more his heart trembled; this was not because Feng Yi's martial arts were exquisite—he had long known that.

Rather, it was the two strange sensations the opponent gave him: one of lightness, one of heaviness.

Sometimes when he attacked, he felt the opponent as heavy as Mount Tai; sometimes when he attacked, he felt the opponent light and agile, elusive like a shadow.

Feng Yi struck too fast, continually switching between the Great Subduing Demon Fist and the Shadowless Divine Fist—these were arts unknown to the National Master; whichever it was, left him with no opening to counter.

As a grandmaster of his generation, the National Master knew that heaviness and lightness must be balanced and relinquished accordingly, but Feng Yi's fighting style seemed to fuse both strengths into one, leaving him greatly alarmed. He exerted his utmost movement technique to dodge, yet saw a string of black shadows darting east and west, sweeping to and fro; he found himself constrained everywhere, repeatedly encountering danger, fleeing east and west, utterly embarrassed.

Feng Yi employed Ancient Tomb lightness skill together with the Great Subduing Demon Fist and Shadowless Divine Fist, taking Divine Illumination Skill as his foundation, unleashing his attacks in one seamless flow—so swift it defied description—and when deployed, its power surpassed the peak of Mei Niansheng, Ding Dian, and Lin Chaoying.

Although the National Master's martial arts were high, in his life he had never met an opponent who could withstand three rounds of his; how could his combat experience compare to Feng Yi's, who had endured a hundred battles? Now facing Feng Yi's style, his heart had already faltered; though the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill's force was considerable, it came straight and simple with little variation, whereas Feng Yi's fists flowed forth continuously—sometimes straight, sometimes curved, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes direct, sometimes oblique—his fist technique was unpredictable, his body seeming to shift left then right, swift as shooting stars and lightning.

The National Master saw only the flickering fist shadows, unable to tell where they came from; his eyes dazzled, his left defenses feeble, his right clumsy; exhausting all his techniques, he could not escape, not even finding a chance to draw his wheel.

Worse still, when his Dragon Elephant Palm force collided with the opponent's fist power, he felt the opponent's inner energy surge from all directions like the Yangtze River, as if he were inside a great bell; his true qi trembled, his head instantly swelled and ached, his blood and qi surged chaotically, and he retreated in panic.

Feng Yi clung like a shadow, the Heavenly Net Earthly Net swirling around his body as he hurried, unleashing the Great Subduing Demon Fist in succession; he suddenly shouted a loud "Zhe!", took a big step, and a punch abruptly accelerated, piercing the National Master's palm posture and striking his left chest with a puff.

The National Master grunted in pain, his left chest aching fiercely, and hastily shifted his body backward.

This strike of Feng Yi's was the Shadowless Divine Fist—silent and unseen, catching the National Master off guard; yet the opponent reacted swiftly, and Feng Yi had no time to emit his divine skill to harm the foe, so he immediately leapt forward and threw out both fists again.

The National Master boasted of being a peerless talent, invincible under heaven, yet had been struck by a single punch from a youngster; if this were a formal match, by rights he would have lost.

But this was not a match; in his anger, he also reacted with astonishing speed, drawing a long breath, his palms slightly sinking, then slowly pushing them forward.

Feng Yi laughed loudly: "Good, this move will decide the outcome!"

Employing the Great Subduing Demon Fist, their fists and palms met, making no sound; the National Master sent his inner power forward urgently, little knowing that Feng Yi's force would suddenly retract.

In desperation, the National Master exerted both palms with all his lifelong strength; unexpectedly, at the moment of his full-force exertion, the opponent's force abruptly recoiled backward, as if a thousand‑jin force had been wholly spent on empty air; he was startled, his footing unsteady, his body involuntarily leaning forward and stepping a pace.

This was also the moment when the National Master's old force had ended and new force had not yet arisen; Feng Yi's fist power erupted violently, and the National Master instantly felt as if a thousand‑jin giant gate were pressing down on him—his vision darkened, thunder roared in his ears, his whole body felt ready to fall apart, and blood surged toward his mouth and nose.

Knowing that a hard clash would mean certain death on the spot, he immediately stomped his foot and flipped backward in a somersault—but how could Feng Yi's extremely fierce fist power be dissipated? In an instant, the National Master's bones sounded like frying beans, his meridians trembled, his dantian boiled; before he landed, with a puff, a jet of blood spurted out, his body went limp like mud, and he collapsed to the ground.

The internal cultivation method recorded in the Divine Illumination Classic is immensely powerful, capable of raising the dead—a rarity in the mundane world; hence its reputation as the foremost extraordinary martial arts manual.

Feng Yi, after successive strange encounters and repeated trials, had already reached the pinnacle of perfected mastery.

Yet the Divine Illumination Skill's great supernatural power of raising the dead—just how it is marvelous and what its principle is—remains known to few.

Actually it is quite simple: it lies in "one inhale, one exhale."

However, this inhale emphasizes "empty yet not empty, weak yet not weak," aiding the body in absorbing energy elements, just as letting ordinary people inhale oxygen.

This exhale stresses "solid and yet more solid, strong and yet more strong"; it not only arouses the body's potential but also injects pure power into the person, regulating the internal organs, achieving the effect of raising the dead.

Whether Ding Dian rescuing Di Yun or Feng Yi rescuing Li Mochou, both were done by applying pressure with the Divine Illumination Skill—one inhale, one release.

Naturally, this principle of the Divine Illumination Skill can both save and harm; he used the "inhale" formula to gather force, emptying the National Master's power in that instant, then employed the "exhale" formula to unleash the mighty force of the Great Subduing Demon Fist, instantly toppling the National Master.

Moreover, the National Master's practiced Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill is strong, overbearing, and domineering, with great force and deep foundation; its changes are not agile, so if they clashed with pure force, Feng Yi and he would likely not decide a winner within a thousand exchanges.

But having previously been struck by Feng Yi's Divine Illumination Skill, his heart was already fearful, and he actually abandoned his own strength to compete with Feng Yi in speed.

His combat experience was terribly lacking, and his manner of exerting force could not be as free and instantaneous as Feng Yi's; naturally, after just a few dozen moves he was defeated by Feng Yi.

Naturally, if Feng Yi's move were used on anyone else, it would on the spot break bones and sever tendons, causing an untimely death; but the National Master's Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill had been trained to the ninth‑layer realm—although his viscera had been severely shaken, he did not die immediately.

All this sounds lengthy when recounted, but in fact the victory or loss was decided in the blink of an eye.

Feng Yi flicked his sleeve, gave a faint smile, and said: "National Master, what do you have to say?"

The National Master understood his meaning, yet his inner qi had gone awry, his meridians blocked, he felt stifled and near death, lying on the ground, utterly unable to speak.

Suddenly a sharp shout rang out, like a thunderbolt from clear sky; a gust of wind surged from behind, straight for Feng Yi's vital spot on his back.

Feng Yi's smile unchanged, he twisted his body and threw a punch at the comer with a ho; the opponent sent his right fist straight out, their palms met with a bang, the two forces collided, and the wind rushed out in all directions.

The opponent let out a muffled groan, his feet staggered, he seemed drunk, and retreated five or six steps before regaining his stance.

This man wore a red robe, thin and gaunt, his face flushed crimson like blood, his eyes sharp—it was Darba.

His internal energy was weak; Feng Yi had merely tapped his acupuncture point casually, and after so much time had passed, he, respecting his teacher and valuing the Dao, seeing his master felled by Feng Yi, in his desperation actually forced open the sealed point.

Now, having been repelled by Feng Yi's single move, he still disregarded his own safety and rushed forward again.

Feng Yi frowned slightly, swept his wide sleeve, and a strong gust made Darba unable to open his eyes or exhale, whereupon Feng Yi drifted back.

The National Master had long feared his disciple might come to harm and wanted to stop him, but being unable to speak, he at last cleared a mouthful of stagnant air and hurriedly shouted in Mongolian: "Darba, halt!"

Darba hesitated a moment, then rushed over, helped the National Master up, and asked: "Master, are you injured?"

The National Master saw Feng Yi shake out his robes, his smile warm and gentle, standing tall like a peak, he shook his head and said: "I'm fine!" He inwardly mocked himself: "This old monk has never in his life suffered even the slightest injury when facing opponents, yet today he has been defeated by a youngster."

And his martial arts and bearing are so extraordinary—how could my Mongolian heroes compare?

Could it be that Heaven truly protects the Great Song, thwarting my great endeavors? He stroked his chest, let out a long sigh, and his body swayed.

The National Master deeply believed in fate, feeling that his plans had come to naught and could not be forced; he exhaled a long breath, looked at Feng Yi, and said: "Wind Hermit, if today I do not follow your wishes, what will you do?"

Feng Yi chuckled: "At the outset of our clash, I said I respect your school's master, gentleman before villain. Your skill is inferior; if you wish to live, you must obey my orders. If you insist on playing the tough guy, then don't blame me for being ruthless and using any means."

As for reputation, you need not worry about it for me; you are the Mongolian National Master, inherently the mortal enemy of the Han people—no matter what method is used to kill you, everyone will applaud; guess what I will do."

The National Master said: "The Song state is already declining, at the end of its rope. You are youthful and handsome; my Mongolian fortune is flourishing. If you become my disciple, your future will be limitless—do you still fear mastering the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill?"

"National Master, you need not put a high hat on me!" Feng Yi sighed: "In others' eyes I am merely a wanton, fluke‑made rascal whom everyone avoids; what talk of prospects is there?"

Feng Yi is by nature carefree, never concerning himself with how others view him. Yet his deeds often involve renowned martial heroes and the world's masses; sometimes he must pay attention to manner and method, lest he ruin others' lifelong reputations and their lifelong undertakings.

But when his true nature surfaced, Cheng Ying simply walked away; though Feng Yi claimed he didn't care much, he ultimately realized a fact: in her eyes he was certainly not as likable as Yang Guo.

Now only those familiar with him remain, and even they have nothing left unsaid.

The National Master shook his head with a wry smile: "You are being overly modest—could it be that I, this old monk, have been defeated by a mere rascal, and furthermore, since you are such a rascal, how could I possibly trust you?"

Feng Yi gave a faint smile and said lightly: "In the presence of a true person, one does not speak falsehoods."

You just said you wanted me to become your disciple, yet you intend to do so at the martial arts assembly. Hehe, for a single martial art, you would make my name stink for ten thousand years, leaving no room for retreat in the Central Plains martial world—your heart cannot be called anything but vicious.

I understand your meaning, and I'm too lazy to argue with you. Now that things have come to this, the State Preceptor should also understand my meaning. As long as you agree to my condition, I can guarantee that I will immediately release you and your disciple.

The State Preceptor secretly admired him, while Feng Yi's thoughts were meticulous.

He just had Feng Yi promise to become his disciple at the Central Plains martial arts assembly, precisely to cut off his retreat, and he had no fear of Feng Yi changing his mind.

Once done, there would be no leeway; unexpectedly, Feng Yi had long known his intention and simply ignored it! Such composure and insight are truly formidable!

The State Preceptor laughed and said: "Since you, a layman, say this, you want me to believe that a mere youth is certainly a great benevolent and righteous man of integrity?"

Feng Yi replied calmly: "State Preceptor, ask yourself honestly—you are revered as a deity by your followers above and below; then are you a gentleman or a petty person?"

The State Preceptor stared for a moment, then laughed: "I am one who transcends the world; I am neither a petty person nor a gentleman."

Feng Yi gave a hehe laugh and said: "Since you are one who transcends the world, why are you so fond of worldly affairs?"

Buddhist martial arts emphasize non-abiding and non-attachment, no scent, no thought; as a high monk, your desire for fame and anger is no less than that of this mere youth of mine—why then put on airs?

These words left the Golden Wheel State Preceptor momentarily speechless.

As a Buddhist high monk, his competitive and combative spirit is not inferior to that of ordinary martial artists; he retorted sharply: "I, too, am cultivating!"

Feng Yi's face showed a smile, and he said gently: "Buddhism teaches the salvation of all beings, without form or self; since the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill is a Buddhist martial art, it should be transmitted without distinction of closeness or distance, to all myriad beings."

As a grand master and a Buddhist high monk, to cherish your skill selfishly is a grave violation of Buddhist principle—how could you ever attain fruition?

Upon hearing this, the State Preceptor's heart swelled, and he coldly said: "If I were to transmit our sect's divine skill to you, would that not violate Buddhist principle? Does not the Central Plains Shaolin Temple's failure to disseminate the Seventy-two Absolute Skills worldwide also violate Buddhist principle?"

Feng Yi laughed and said: "That is only natural."

Buddhist martial arts take emptiness as the ultimate; your Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill is indeed immensely powerful, yet you can emit but not retract—first, your attainment is insufficient; second, your nature makes you overly vicious, striking out with intent to kill! Hehe, having excess without restraint, neither leaking nor revealing, you fall far short.

Including the so-called high monks of the Shaolin Temple, although over the centuries of its founding there have been no lack of famous masters who shone for a time, strictly speaking, it has never produced a truly outstanding top-tier master.

Because such a master has already comprehended 'no form, no self, no self-aspect, nor object-aspect'; his divine skill has reached the highest state where release and retrieval are effortless, his mind follows his will like a finger, and he fundamentally disdains contention for fame and fighting.

If the State Preceptor could attain such a realm, how could this junior's modest skill possibly block his strike?

Although the Golden Wheel State Preceptor is arrogant and domineering, having long dwelt in the Western Regions, his daily contacts are all sturdy and simple Mongols, Hui, etc., most of whose thoughts are not as sharp as Han Chinese; Feng Yi's flattery and provocation left him speechless, he gave a cold snort and could not answer.

Feng Yi would not let him think further, continuing: "I am no extraordinary figure; you may also treat me as a mere youth, but I am not a fickle, faithless petty person, and I also respect your hard-won martial skill, treating you as a dignified person—if you truly do not want this dignity, then…

The State Preceptor coldly asked: "How?"

Feng Yi said slowly: "You will endure the greatest suffering in the world."

The State Preceptor said: "I will kill myself and not give you a chance to torment me."

Feng Yi shook his head: "As you are now, you will have no opportunity to kill yourself, nor do you have the courage."

He said it lightly, but his tone was extremely stern, allowing no doubt.

The State Preceptor could also feel the weight of Feng Yi's words, saying: "Venerable one……" Feng Yi lifted his head to gaze at the sky and said softly: "Moreover, even if you die, I can also make you live."

Then you will not die quickly; you will taste the most painful death in the world, you will howl for three days and three nights in a state of lost autonomy, and every moment you will struggle in pain exceeding what a person can bear.

Furthermore, if you provoke me, I can let your retinue and disciples see exactly how their revered Great State Preceptor differs from them; thus this is my meaning of 'courtesy before force, clarity before contention'—the rest is for you to ponder.

Although Feng Yi did not specify exactly what he would do, anyone present at the peak at this moment could hear it and feel a chill down the spine.

The State Preceptor's heart raced, he stared blankly, and stammered: "This…… this……

Such a State Preceptor, yet frightened by Feng Yi to the point of being unable to utter a complete sentence.

Because he had guessed Feng Yi's method.

That is to strip himself naked and display himself for others to view.

As a Mongol State Preceptor and a Ningmiao Jiao master, he need not fear death, yet how could he not fear this? The State Preceptor's heart burned with uncontainable rage, only resenting his inability to prevail over the opponent, and he trembled: "You act with such cruelty—how can I know you will not go back on your word?"

Feng Yi gave a ha-ha laugh, his expression eased; he understood he held an absolute psychological advantage, yet he dared not push the other to desperation, gave a slight smile, pointed afar, and said: "State Preceptor, I—you may not believe me.

But I am one of the Five Absolutes of the Central Plains, the Master of Peach Blossom Island, formerly the Mongol Golden Sword Prince Consort, and now Guo Jing, the Great Hero Guo.

With these two as witnesses, how could you still not believe?

The State Preceptor and Darba raised their eyes to look; amid the obscuring trees came a long "haha" laugh, and two figures stepped forward, one after another.

Huang Yaoshi wore a blue-green robe, graceful and carefree as ever; Guo Jing strode swiftly like flight, steady and composed.

The State Preceptor's gaze was seasoned; seeing the two's extraordinary bearing, he already harbored doubts, and could not help thinking: "In the midst of fierce combat, Feng Yi can still hear all directions, whereas I fall short."

Then Huang Yaoshi laughed: "I, Huang, seeing you two climb the mountain, felt moved, thus came as an uninvited guest—little did I expect it would be an eye-opener!"

Feng Yi bowed his hands and said: "Master of the Island, you are too polite."

After Huang Yaoshi and Guo Jing parted with Huang Rong, they wandered leisurely; happening upon a small tavern for a light drink, they suddenly saw a Mongol troop passing by, and thus quietly followed.

Until they saw Feng Yi and the Golden Wheel State Preceptor engage; observing that this monk's inner depth was profound and his martial skill peerless, truly a rare master in a lifetime, they could not help but feel delighted at the prospect, followed from the other side of the peak and climbed up, whereupon they saw Guo Jing in the midst of ascending.

The father‑in‑law and son‑in‑law then competed another stretch; fortunately Guo Jing was no longer the silly boy of old, knew to defer to his father‑in‑law, so the two did not fight and arrived even faster than Feng Yi and the State Preceptor.

Thus they witnessed every exchange of blows and words between Feng Yi and the State Preceptor.

Feng Yi's Divine Illumination Skill defends the enemy with divine perception; his spiritual acuity is extraordinary, and when Huang Yaoshi and Guo Jing reached the summit, he had already sensed them—though he discerned the arrivals from their qi flow, he remained calm, did not expose it, and waited for the State Preceptor to show a loosening, intending to use them as added weight for himself.

After all, for one who covets others' martial arts and violates the great taboo of the martial world, making the opponent feel that you can speak sincerely is no easy feat.

Guo Jing, such an honest person, perhaps would not believe it, let alone the State Preceptor, this cunning fellow.

Upon hearing this, the State Preceptor was even more startled: Huang Yaoshi had seen them first and then ascended, and together with Guo Jing they had reached the peak, yet he himself knew nothing at all—evidently his martial attainment was not inferior to theirs; had he simultaneously attacked then, facing three great masters, he would have no chance of survival. Thinking this, he broke out in a cold sweat, but then reflected: Feng Yi hasn't even fought a single opponent, so why entertain such thoughts?

Then Huang Yaoshi laughed again: "Brother Feng seeks perfection in all things, comprehensive, avoids the solid and strikes the void, seeks victory in danger, decides promptly—truly impressive. This great State Preceptor's martial arts are unrivaled, his aura majestic and splendid, extraordinary—what a pity!"

"What a pity?"

The State Preceptor's gaze, sharp as a sword, fixed upon Huang Yaoshi.

Huang Yaoshi said: "A pity that your method of exerting force is purely hard and forceful, with soft force unable to be effectively controlled; consequently your martial arts are grand and ample yet lacking in subtlety, and your combat experience is also too lacking—otherwise, with your skill, who in the present age could match you for dozens of moves and decide victory?"

The State Preceptor could not help but startle, his thoughts turning, in an instant his complexion went ashen, he clenched his teeth, his whole body twitched repeatedly, and pain spread across his face.

The so-called exertion of force refers to the accomplishment of applying internal energy in the hard and soft directions.

When internal energy's hard aspect is exerted to the extreme, it becomes utter hardness—nothing can resist it, no strength can break it; when the soft aspect is exerted to the extreme, it becomes utter softness—it can be perfectly appropriate in all situations and advantageous everywhere.

The Golden Wheel Dharma King was defeated by Feng Yi in dozens of moves—not because his martial realm was far inferior, but because he focused solely on hardness when exerting force, lacking soft variation and thus agility, and also lacked combat experience, so his actual strength did not match his martial arts.

Otherwise, as a great master of the Esoteric School and an outstanding figure of the ages, how could the Golden Wheel Dharma King be thrown down by Feng Yi in just a few dozen moves?

However, the Dharma King's martial prowess is far from ordinary; Guo Jing had just been secretly pondering it, Feng Yi's lightness skill covers all directions, his punches strike in eight ways, and his inner power secretly holds boundless strength—if I were to cross blades with him, my chances of victory would likely be slim.

In the original storyline, the Golden Wheel Dharma King, upon his debut facing a peak-condition Guo Jing, could determine victory or defeat within a few dozen moves—who wins and who loses goes without saying.

Later, after repeatedly sparring with Guo Jing, Yang Guo, and Xiao Longnv, this great master who had never exchanged more than three moves in his life learned how to respond beyond the fourth move; his combat experience and lessons increased, and his strength improved accordingly.

Yet in the Mongol great camp, the heavily wounded Guo Jing, facing several masters' siege, could still cope with only seventy percent of his inner strength; the Golden Wheel Dharma King's martial arts are not inferior to Guo Jing's, but he still lacks practical experience.

Only after successively fighting masters like Li Mochou, Zhou Botong, and Nimoxing, and after cultivating the tenth layer of Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, did he rid himself of stubborn flaws and shortcomings, becoming able to exchange moves with the Five Greats.

In short, the present Golden Wheel Dharma King, when encountering any of the Five Greats, can only suffer a crushing defeat.

This is because the Five Greats not only have martial arts that have reached the pinnacle, but their inner power is also exceptionally pure—take Hong Qigong, Yideng Master, and Ouyang Feng: their force has already reached the point where hardness gives rise to softness, indistinguishable.

Or, softness reaching the extreme gives rise to hardness, as with Huang Yaoshi and Zhou Botong: their seemingly light palm strikes possess the cutting power of swords, knives, and axes.

Their force, when displayed, can undergo myriad transformations. As for the Golden Wheel, hardness is abundant but softness lacking—this is due to insufficient refinement; when fighting at a distance with pure strength, the weakness is not obvious, but once engaged in close combat with a peer‑level master, defeat comes swiftly and horribly.

The Dharma King, a master of his generation, having heard Huang Yaoshi's words, already understood his meaning, but being extremely proud, he found it somewhat unpleasant to be instructed; thus he carefully scrutinized this green-robed old man, who bore an air of unworldly elegance. He pressed his palms together and said: 'When I was in Mongolia, I heard that only the Five—East Heretic, West Venom, South Emperor, North Beggar, and Central Divine Talent—were outstanding in the Central Plains; now that I have met you, your reputation is indeed not unfounded. Where are the other four?'

Huang Yaoshi said: 'The Central Divine Talent has long passed away; the West Venom, North Beggar, and South Emperor are hard to trace.'

Feng Yi pointed at Guo Jing and laughed: 'This Sir Guo is a high disciple of the North Beggar; Master Yidong once instructed him in the essentials of martial arts, and he is also a sworn brother of Old Urchin, the junior disciple of the Central Divine Talent.'

Seeing Guo Jing's deep, mountain‑like presence and extraordinary bearing, the Dharma King felt he seemed even more formidable than Huang Yaoshi or Feng Yi; he immediately turned and performed a salute: 'Excellent, excellent—I never expected to meet Sir Guo here; truly unexpected for this humble monk.'

Guo Jing clasped his hands and said: 'Ashamed!'

Feng Yi smiled and said: 'Dharma King, now you should believe me, right?'

In an instant, silence fell.

Huang Yaoshi and Guo Jing understood Feng Yi's intention in their hearts; although they did not approve of his approach, from the outset of his clash with the Dharma King Feng Yi had made his purpose clear, and the peril and hardship they endured in their entangled battle can be imagined.

As mere observers, they had become witnesses; for the moment they could only remain silent—this neither supported nor obstructed.

The Dharma King's face sank like water; after a long silence he said coldly: 'You want the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill and for me to return to the Western Regions—I can grant only one of these; I have something to say first.'

Feng Yi nodded and said: 'You cannot return to the Western Regions—I anticipated that long ago; what else do you have to say?'

The Dharma King started, saying: 'You already knew?'

Feng Yi smiled; his smile carried comfort, without a trace of mockery, and he said: 'Dharma King, actually I know that the matter of the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill concerns your Esoteric Sect; as the head of a lineage, you need only agree.'

As for returning to the Western Regions, you cannot agree, because your sect's followers are all under Mongol rule; at this critical juncture, how could you dare to return on your own?

The Dharma King shuddered at the words; he had not expected Feng Yi to have considered even this.

Indeed, that is the case; granting Feng Yi the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill is within the Dharma King's authority, but returning to the Western Regions is not.

This time he was ordered to confront the Central Plains martial world and cooperate with the Mongol army in destroying the Song; though his own aim remained unfulfilled and he could return alone without fear, he could not ignore the safety of the myriad temples and thousands of disciples of the Esoteric Sect Ningmiao Jiao in Mongolia and the Western Regions. The Dharma King exclaimed in alarm: 'Then why did you raise this condition—are you merely trying to mock this humble monk?'

Feng Yi shook his head and said: 'Why would I need to toy with someone like this? You are merely a top figure of Mongolia, peerless under heaven; today, for my own purpose, I release you—this is tantamount to letting a tiger return to the mountain; if you then deal with others, would you not be harming them?'

The Dharma King replied coldly: 'How could a layperson like you not let me harm others?'

Feng Yi gave a slight smile and said: 'Simply, today you will explain the Dragon Elephant Skill to me, and I will let you go—this is the first condition.'

As for returning to the Western Regions, I will not force it, but from now on, whenever I act, I may only take the initiative against the Five Greats of the Central Plains and Sir Guo; or if you ever defeat me, this agreement will be void—this is my concession and my sincerity.

Huang Yaoshi and Guo Jing exchanged a glance; the Dharma King snorted coldly: 'You won't let me act against those inferior to myself—are you yourself doing the same?'

Feng Yi furrowed his brows slightly, gazed at the sky, and said lightly: 'If today our positions were reversed and my life lay in your hands, whatever you say would naturally be law.'

The Dharma King's face flushed and paled alternately.

Feng Yi lowered his head, fixed his gaze on the Dharma King, and said coldly: 'Dharma King, today you and I have a gentleman's agreement; if you are honest, should you lose to me, whatever you do I can keep quiet about.'

You remain that invincible, revered Grand Dharma King of Mongolia; otherwise… heh…

Feng Yi's thoughts are meticulous; he always prepares against future troubles, looks three steps ahead, and with his foreknowledge advantage naturally exploits people's characters to the fullest.

He knew well that in the original storyline the Golden Wheel Dharma King had originally captured Guo Xiang, intending to use her as leverage against Guo Jing and Huang Rong.

Later, however, he found the other party icy‑smart and kind‑hearted, and conceived the idea of taking her as a disciple; after much persuasion he achieved his goal. But the Mongols' prolonged siege of Xiangyang failed, so Kublai wished to publicly massacre Guo Xiang before the city to break Guo Jing's will to defend it; the Dharma King firmly refused, loudly cursed Kublai's envoy, and in his fury struck out with a palm that killed someone.

The Dharma King took Guo Xiang and immediately wished to depart the army far away.

Kublai himself came to apologize and make amends, after which the matter was not mentioned again. However, later the Mongol Great Khan Mongke led troops to attack Xiangyang without success; he personally issued an edict ordering the construction of a wooden platform, to which Guo Xiang was bound, in order to coerce Guo Jing into submission.

Although the Dharma King felt great reluctance at heart, he had to comply, considering the safety of the myriad temples and thousands of disciples of his Esoteric Sect Ningmiao Jiao in Mongolia and the Western Regions.

Thus Feng Yi, knowing he would not accept the second condition, chose the next best course—giving the Dharma King a way out while also binding the Golden Wheel's hands and feet; should he refuse or renege…

Feng Yi has plenty of ways to deal with him!

The Dharma King, clear‑minded, naturally understood Feng Yi's implication; he exhaled a long breath and said slowly: 'This matter, you must keep it buried in your hearts—not a word may be spoken.'

Feng Yi blurted out: 'Good, I agree.'

Huang Yaoshi and Guo Jing were about to leave to avoid suspicion.

Then they heard Feng Yi laugh and say: 'No need! Today our gathering is a matter of fate.'

I am simply someone who is quite curious about profound martial arts, with no intention of insisting on obtaining them; since the Dharma King speaks of bearing, I will not press too hard, nor be stingy.

The Dharma King need only explain the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill twice; I will retain as much as I can, and I will absolutely not listen to a third time. How about that?

On the faces of the Golden Wheel Dharma King, Huang Yaoshi, and Guo Jing alike appeared an expression of disbelief.

The Dharma King frowned and asked: 'What other scheme do you have now?'

Feng Yi laughed helplessly, shook his head, and said: 'No scheme at all!'

(End of chapter)