Chapter 241

Feng Yi's words made Murong father and son's hearts jolt; with Kumozhi, they stood a chance against the Xiao father and son.

Although we were certain Feng Yi wouldn't intervene, this old monk said he admired Xiao Feng's character; if he were to intervene on some pretext, adding Xiao Feng and his son, let alone whether they could win, even escaping would be hopeless!

Kumozhi's thoughts raced, he loosened his grip, gave a slight smile, and pressed his palms together, saying: "Master, your divine powers are something I've only seen once in my life; if I could receive your instruction, that would be the greatest fortune of my life!"

Murong Bo

But upon further thought, since things have come to this, there is no other way.

Everyone present is a world-renowned figure; if they were to be scared off by a casual remark, though alive they'd be as good as dead.

At this point, the only thing to do is to give it their all; they couldn't help but admire his composure at this moment.

The old monk let out a deep sigh and said: "Ah! The Great Wheel Ming King already faces imminent disaster; why would I need to act?"

Kumozhi felt his blood rush to his head; he thought the big gang originally wanted to partition the Great Song, but with Feng Yi's arrival they're targeting him—this is also fine!

Who made it so that upon first seeing him, I wanted to snatch his ice silkworm?

But this old monk's opening words spell imminent disaster; could it be that he thinks I'm easily frightened, intending to carve up my little Tubo?

Kumozhi was about to speak, but when the words reached his lips he saw Feng Yi smile and say: "Master, you sympathize with heaven and pity people; could it be you also want to convert the Great Wheel Ming King?"

The old monk shook his head: "Tubo's national teacher, how could the Great Wheel Ming King be converted by my few words?"

"Hehe" came a girl's laughter from outside the door: "If words can't convert, then we'll subdue by force; anyway my elder brother says that when Shaolin monks meet someone they can't beat, they say they practice martial arts only to strengthen body and health; when they meet someone they can beat and provoke, then the Buddha also has the vajra angry eyes, thunderbolt to subdue demons!"

As they spoke, they heard the rustle of clothes in the wind; at the doorway appeared two women—who else could it be but the Zhu-Zi duo?

Xiao Feng saw A Zhu and exclaimed: "How did you come here?"

A Zhu looked at the broken table and scattered scriptures in the Sutra Pavilion; how could she not know a great battle had erupted here? Seeing Kumozhi, thinking of his relationship with her father and her own martial arts, unconsciously a mist of tears welled in her eyes, which is heart‑wrenching.

Great Wheel Bright King

Formless Calamity Finger Manual

"Why didn't you listen to me?" A Zi pouted: "It's not because you said Shaolin Temple is best at pretending."

"Indeed, Elder Xuanzi personally admitted he was Lady Ye Erniang's lover, sentenced to two hundred strokes; carrying out the punishment before everyone's eyes, he didn't use internal energy to protect himself, beaten until his skin split and flesh tore, blood flowing everywhere, likely he won't survive; seeing that Shaolin Temple is not a good place, fearing you'll suffer loss, I can only bring my sister to lend you a hand."

She actually just likes excitement; Feng Yi, while touring mountains and waters with her, naturally said a lot, including his purpose for coming to Shaolin Temple; A Zi naturally didn't want to miss it, so Feng Yi had her stay with A Zhu's parents, and that's why she didn't listen.

Shaolin Sect

They also knew that the one who took Lady Ye Erniang's virtue must be Xuanzi; otherwise Xiao Yuanshan wouldn't have said 'consider it a favor' when leaving. Yet they didn't expect Xuanzi to actually admit it.

Feng Yi is the same; he nodded and said: "Nobody's a sage, who can be faultless? Faced with beauty, Abbot Xuanzi is ultimately no pure and innocent god, buddha, immortal, or saint; this is no surprise, that he can step forward now, though a bit late, also shows some responsibility."

He knew that Xiao Yuanshan had just almost directly said that the man who seduced Ye Erniang was Abbot Xuanci, and that at least half of the several thousand heroes on Mount Shaoshi could guess the truth.

But daring to speak it out requires courage.

After all, not everyone is Xiao Yuanshan.

But once someone pierces this layer of window paper, Abbot Xuanci will have no choice but to die!

If one thinks that without Ye Erniang, Xuanci could flatly deny it, then the only person who could have falsely transmitted the message accusing Murong Bo would be Xuanci himself. Murong Bo could also deny it, claiming Xuanci framed him.

It's a pity that people of the jianghu value their word as weighty as a mountain, especially Xuanci and Murong Bo, men of great reputation who would not lie—how could Xuanci have been deceived?

Therefore, once the lid is lifted, if one still denies without even an opening, denying responsibility while pretending to be innocent, that is the behavior of petty scoundrels and street ruffians, far from the bearing of martial heroes.

To dare to act but not to own up is even more shameful than actually doing the wrong.

As for Xuanci's death, setting aside the need to protect Shaolin's reputation, only Ye Erniang was killed by himself; since the matter hasn't been made public, Xuanci could still pretend to be confused.

Once it becomes known, he lacks the power to avenge the woman; if he does not avenge, then he truly lives up to being heartless and unjust, and death would be his best refuge.

Xiao Yuanshan waved his hand and shouted: "Abbot Xuanci, old man, you'll die just like that—it's fine. Looking at how he raised and educated Feng'er to success, I will also return his precious son to him—that boy is of the Xu generation in Shaolin Temple…"

"The Buddha is merciful!" the old monk said, pressing his palms together. "The saying 'The sea of suffering is boundless, but turning back is shore'; the saying 'Lay down the butcher's knife and become a Buddha instantly'; Abbot Xuanci has today attained the great Dao, which is also a joyous matter; Amitabha!"

Everyone looked at each other, knowing that the old monk didn't want Xiao Yuanshan to reveal who Xuanci's son was, so he interrupted the speech; that too is understandable.

Now that his parents are both dead, knowing this only adds to his pain,

But this content is utterly confusing—does this even count as attaining the Dao?

Little did they know that the Shaolin Temple belongs to the Chan Sect, which emphasizes sudden enlightenment; even scolding the Buddha and insulting the ancestors is not taboo, unlike the Vinaya School and others that insist on strict observance of the precepts. Upon hearing Abbot Xuanci's deeds, the old monk knew his remorse was sincere.

The Buddhist gate is vast, delivering all beings; even for the wicked and obstinate, one must use every means to guide them—let alone the abbot of this temple. He, in front of outsiders, is able to accept punishment publicly; certainly he fears the heroes will say the Shaolin sect protects its own, but he values the sect's gate, regardless of right or wrong, only talking about martial arts, not the precepts—destroying Shaolin's reputation is nevertheless also an expression of sincere repentance, which is the Chan Sect's way of attaining the Dao.

Because, in the Buddha's view, humans are born sinful; cultivation is repenting of sin—attain enlightenment!

The old monk's dull gaze swept over Xiao Yuanshan once, and he shook his head, saying: "I still remember that, when the layman first came to the pavilion to borrow a book, it was a volume of the *Manual of the Formless Calamity Finger*. Alas, from that night on, the layman entered the demonic path—alas, alas!"

Xiao Yuanshan's heart pounded wildly; he knew that the first night he sneaked into the Sutra Pavilion, he indeed saw a volume of the *Manual of the Formless Calamity Finger*, which he knew was one of the Shaolin Sect's seventy-two supreme techniques; at the time he was overjoyed beyond himself, and apart from himself, no second person knew of this.

But thinking of the sweeper monk's earlier display of power, like a swift wind sweeping everything away, this supernatural ability is hardly something possessed by humans—if it were a ghost or demon sneaking about, it wouldn't be surprising.

Feng Yi laughed and said: "Master, you want Old Hero Xiao to also turn back to shore, lay down the butcher's knife, and become a Buddha instantly."

Xiao Feng, however, was even more certain, as Feng Yi had said earlier that his father's actions were entirely under the watch of others and that he was ill, which is why he referred to him as old, weak, and sick; he immediately cupped his fists and said: "Eminent monk, my father's offense against Shaolin was not intentional; is my father ill?"

Xiao Yuanshan stood dazed and stupid, as if turned into a wooden person.

The old monk let out a light sigh and said to Xiao Yuanshan: "Layman Xiao, you have killed many, greatly harming the innocent—like the Qiao Sanhuai couple and Master Xuanku—you really shouldn't have killed them."

Although Xiao Yuanshan is old, his fierce and valiant spirit has not diminished; upon hearing the old monk's reproach, he immediately came to his senses and spoke loudly: "Eminent monk, your supernatural powers are vast; I know I am no match, but while it would be easy for you to kill me, wanting me to admit fault and repent is absolutely out of the question."

The old monk shook his head and said: "I dare not. Admitting fault and repenting must come from within oneself to be meaningful; forced by others, it is of no benefit. Do you feel great pain in the 'Gateway' and 'Supreme Ultimate' acupoints on your lower abdomen?"

Xiao Yuanshan, having his own illness exposed in a single sentence by him, involuntarily trembled; but the old monk said he shouldn't have harmed the lives of Master Xuanku and others, so he only gave a grunt, indicating neither agreement nor disagreement.

But everyone saw his dazed gaze, obviously greatly moved; for a moment, everyone felt astonished, thinking: "Could it be that everything the old monk said is true?"

Xiao Feng immediately stepped forward two paces, dropped to his knees, bowed before the old monk, and said: "My father's illness is deep-rooted; I still beg the eminent monk to show great compassion."

The old monk returned the salute with clasped hands and said: "Please rise, benefactor. Your heart is kind and benevolent, thinking of all under heaven, unwilling to harm Song-Liao civilians over personal grudges; such great benevolence and righteousness—whatever your orders, I will obey without hesitation. No need for further ceremony."

Xiao Feng was overjoyed, knocked his head twice on the ground, and then rose.

Feng Yi sneered: "What is great benevolence? What is great righteousness?"

I also believe that a man of honor should prioritize the fate of the nation, treating personal grudges as light. As Xiao Feng holds the position of Southern Court Grand Prince of Liao, defending the borders and pacifying the people is his duty; attacking cities and seizing territory for the country, giving his all, is also his responsibility.

The more everyone listened, the more confused they became; they couldn't understand why Feng Yi would say such a thing—could it be that Xiao Feng's refusal to let him meddle in his personal grudges offended him? This person is truly wicked!

Xiao Feng laughed loudly: "Brother Feng Yi, Xiao Feng is just an ordinary mortal, I cannot ponder too many principles!"

All I can do is, when Liao attacks Song, I will resist with all my strength; when Song attacks Liao, I will also oppose with all my strength!" Feng Yi said: "I naturally know your thoughts, but I fear you are powerless; Yelü Hongji harbors grand ambitions, eyeing Song like a tiger watches its prey. You speak out now, and later you'll end up eating prison food."

"Even though you fear no martial arts, do they not know? They wouldn't poison you covertly!"

Xiao Feng was startled; he owed Yelü Hongji a life-saving debt and had sworn brotherhood with him—would he poison himself?

Feng Yi's reason for saying this is partly to oppose the Sweeping Monk, because from the moment he met the Sweeping Monk, they have been at odds.

True martial competition is discussing principles in words, testing skills with hands, and having full vigor and victorious momentum.

Even with me present, letting the Sweeping Monk perform a solo act, shocking everyone into bewilderment, that means I have lost; later, when we fight, my chances of winning will plummet.

Secondly, to remind Xiao Feng not to meet a mysterious demise; I saved his beloved for him, yet he will play himself to death.

The Sweeping Monk glanced at Murong Bo and sighed: "Murong Scholar, though he is of the Xianbei ethnicity, has lived in exile in Jiangnan for several generations; I initially thought he must have absorbed the literary grace of the Southern Dynasties, but who would have thought that upon entering the Sutra Pavilion, he would discard my ancestor's subtle teachings and the recorded insights of past eminent monks as if they were worn-out sandals, picking up only the Pinching Flower Finger Technique as if it were a priceless treasure. As the ancients said, buying the case and returning the pearl—a laughingstock for ages."

"Both scholars are eminent figures of the present age, yet they also commit this foolish act."

Murong Bo saw that Xiao Yuanshan's actions were all known by the old man, so his own affairs in the Sutra Pavilion would naturally not be hidden from him; he remained silent.

Only hear the old monk again say: "But the scholar's heart is even more greedy for acquisition than the Xiao scholar's. The Xiao scholar merely studies how to restrain the existing martial arts of the Shaolin Sect, whereas the Murong scholar gradually encompasses the temple's Seventy-Two Supreme Skills, copying them all."

"I suppose over these years the scholar has devoted himself wholeheartedly, intending to integrate and master the Seventy-Two Supreme Skills, wishing to pass them on to his son, but he is still young, his strength insufficient, unable to study the Shaolin Seventy-Two Supreme Skills, so you transmitted them to this Tibetan Imperial Preceptor."

=9+book_bar

Murong Fu glared at the old monk, his face flushed red, feeling offended, thinking, "What? Just lack of strength?"

The old monk glanced at Jiumozhi and slowly said: "Great Wheel Wisdom King, you are mistaken, utterly mistaken; you seek to penetrate the Shaolin Seventy-Two Supreme Skills, yet you have reversed the order—great calamity is imminent."

Jiumozhi, having just been told by him that great calamity is imminent, was already resentful; now he raised his voice, his tone revealing indignation: "What imminent calamity, reversed order—Master, do you only know how to speak alarmist nonsense?" As the Imperial Preceptor revered as a heavenly being by the Tibetan people, he undoubtedly possessed a strong self-confidence.

The old monk said: "It's not alarmist nonsense. Have you ever practiced the Carefree Sect's Minor Formless Skill?"

Jiumozhi was startled again; he had secretly learned the Carefree Sect's Minor Formless Skill, unknown to anyone—how could this old monk have seen through it?

But he soon relaxed: "Just now Feng Yi said I learned the Minor Formless Skill; most likely he overheard it—nothing surprising." He said: "Master, what's so special about the Minor Formless Skill? Can't one person embody the strengths of both Buddhism and Daoism?"

Seeing his stubborn and self-willed appearance, the Sweeping Monk shook his head: "The Minor Formless Skill is profound and subtle; it can be used to deploy various schools' martial arts, taking it as a foundation, the temple's Seventy-Two Supreme Skills can likewise be employed, though in the subtle intricacies there will inevitably be some discrepancy."

Azhi said: "Master, my elder brother has said all this before; can't you offer something new?"

The old monk smiled slightly and said: "If the Wisdom King only practices the application methods of our temple's Seventy-Two Supreme Skills, the hidden injuries, though harmful, will not yet endanger his fundamental vitality in the short term."

But at this moment the Wisdom King's Chengqi point shows a crimson hue, the Wenxiang point faintly reveals purple vapor, the Jiaoche point meridians tremble—these signs indicate that after practicing the Shaolin Seventy-Two Supreme Skills, the Wisdom King wishes to integrate them, merging several skills into one… He said this, shook his head slightly, and his eyes revealed great sorrow and pity.

After Jiumozhi mastered the Shaolin Sect's Seventy-Two Supreme Skills, he felt there were too many varieties; it would be better to merge similar techniques, but back and forth, he felt greatly vexed and restless, his thoughts tangled, hard to grasp—could the old monk's words not be empty talk, indeed being "reversed order, great calamity is imminent"?

Then he thought again: "Failing in cultivation and thus going berserk is originally common, but I am versed in the profound secrets of internal and external martial arts—how could I be comparable to an ordinary person? This old monk speaks boastfully; if I fall for his scheme, Jiumozhi's lifelong fame will be washed away."

The old monk saw his face initially show worry, but then he raised his brows, again displaying a full-faced stubborn and self-conceited appearance—evidently he treated the old monk's words as wind past the ear.

Feng Yi laughed: "Master, you meddle too much—whether it's the Tibetan Imperial Preceptor practicing Shaolin skills and going berserk, or going to Heaven Dragon Temple to seize the Six Meridian Divine Sword—alas, the Ningmiao Jiao, Shaolin Temple, and Heaven Dragon Temple are all major sects of our country; if they develop grudges, tsk tsk, that would be even more interesting."

Upon hearing this, Jiumozhi's heart shook violently; instantly his face flushed, veins bulged, and sweat poured like broth.

Murong Bo lightly stroked his beard and laughed loudly: "Feng Hero, your words are totally mistaken; back when I fought Xiao Brother, the Wisdom King watched from the sidelines, and after the battle I discussed in detail with him, gaining much benefit, which is why I gifted the Shaolin supreme skills—just mentioning that the Six Meridian Divine Sword is the number one sword under heaven, what ulterior motive could there be?"

Feng Yi lightly said: "Then it depends on what the Wisdom King thinks."

Jiumozhi is a wise person; hearing the string's song he knows the refined meaning. That day Murong Bo gifted him the secret manuals; Jiumozhi once suspected ill intent, but upon examining the secrets, each supreme skill was exquisitely indescribable; after careful study, truth and falsehood were immediately distinguished, his doubts vanished at once. From then on, diligently practicing, each skill mastered increased his gratitude toward Murong Bo.

But today, knowing he is a descendant of Yan State, recalling his then ethereal, immortal-like visage and courteous demeanor, how could he harbor even a hint of malice? Yet thinking that he wants me to exchange the Six Meridian Divine Sword for the Shaolin supreme skills—isn't that just to sow discord between Tibet and Dali?

The Duan clan of Dali also maintains good relations with the Shaolin Temple; if the old monk's words are true, should I practice Shaolin skills and go berserk, or succeed in seizing the Six Meridian Divine Sword from Dali, then Tibet, Dali, and Song would all become enemies—perhaps the Murong family could fish in troubled waters and restore Yan State; the depth of such scheming makes one shudder at the thought.

"Amitabha!" The old monk, seeing Feng Yi's single remark throw Jiumozhi's mind into turmoil, proclaimed the Buddha's name and sighed: "Our sect's martial arts were transmitted from the Elder Bodhidharma. Buddhist disciples who study martial arts do so to strengthen the body, protect the Dharma, and subdue demons. When practicing any martial art, one must always hold a thought of compassion, benevolence, and kindness. If not based on Buddhist learning, then practicing martial arts will inevitably harm oneself. The deeper the skill, the greater the self-injury. If what is practiced is merely external martial arts like punches, kicks, weapons, and hidden weapons, that's fine—harm to oneself is minimal; one only needs a strong body to fend for oneself…"

Suddenly, voices were heard downstairs; following that, light taps sounded on the stairs—tap, tap, tap—and seven or eight monks leapt up to the pavilion.

First were two Shaolin Sect senior monks of the Xuan generation, Xuan Yin and Xuan Sheng; then came several external eminent monks: Shen Shan, Shen Yin, Dao Qing, Guan Xin; after that were the two monks Xuan Gou and Xuan Jing.

These monks were all highly cultivated and accomplished; seeing everyone listening to a strange old monk's speech, they did not step forward to disturb, but stood aside and listened to what he said.

The old monk seemed unaware, continuing: "But if one practices our sect's supreme martial arts, such as the Pinching Finger, the Dew Leaf Finger, the Prajna Palm, etc., and each day does not harmonize with compassionate Buddhist teachings to resolve the hostility, then the hostile qi will penetrate the viscera, sinking deeper and deeper, far more harmful than any external poison—by a hundredfold."

"The Great Wheel Wisdom King was originally a Buddhist disciple of ours, deeply studying Buddhist teachings, memorizing and analyzing principles, unmatched in the present age; yet if he lacks the thoughts of compassion, giving, and universal salvation, even though he has penetrated the classics and his eloquence is unobstructed, he will ultimately be unable to dispel the hostile qi incurred from practicing these supreme martial arts."

The assembled monks only heard a few sentences and felt the old monk's words contained great profundity, expressing what predecessors had not said; they all felt a sense of awe. Several joined their palms in praise: "May the Buddha be compassionate; well done, well done!"

"The old monk really knows how to play mysterious tricks!" Azhi disagreed, saying: "My elder brother says the Shaolin Temple's fame under heaven relies on martial arts, not some chivalrous compassionate way!"

Several old monks hearing this all stroked their beards and glared; only Jiumozhi gave a faint smile, thinking: "Hmm, also right—perhaps this old monk is feigning mysticism to prevent the Shaolin supreme skills from leaking, thus instilling fear."

After all, Murong Bo himself also practiced the Shaolin supreme skills; his impure motive toward me is merely to lure me to Dali to seize the scriptures."

The Sweeping Monk glanced lightly at Azhi and said lightly: "Miss, you are a master of the Carefree Sect; if I could hear your high opinions, I would gladly listen to the details!"

Azhi glanced at Feng Yi, seeing he did not stop her, hands behind her back, walking and speaking: "My elder brother says martial arts progress from exterior to interior; the strength of martial power lies in internal force and technique; if internal cultivation reaches the pinnacle, these moves are shallow and boring, obvious at a glance."

"However, whether internal force or technique, both are governed by the human heart. Especially since internal force is profound and unfathomable, one requires the unity of spirit and intention, heart and qi combined, to achieve anything."

"The compassion you speak of in your mouth is actually due to Xiao Yuanshan, Murong Bo, and Jiumozhi having muddied minds, insufficient internal cultivation, and when practicing Shaolin martial arts, their practice not aligning with the martial arts' principles, causing their hearts to waver and spirits to flutter, unable to grasp the method; over time, difficulties accumulate and become hard to reverse—this is why today's calamity has arisen!"

"As the saying goes, lacking boundless magnanimity yet attempting to practice boundless martial arts is inviting disaster upon oneself."

"For example, the Beggar Sect's supreme skill Subduing Dragon Palm requires internal and external mutual aid, forming a whole; if one's breadth of mind is insufficient, the realm will inevitably be lacking, making it hard to enter the hall of elegance."

"For instance, the former chief of the Beggar Sect, Wang Jian Tong, was once beaten by the old hero Xiao into a dog; yet my brother-in-law's execution of it is unstoppable—old father cannot overcome son, the reason being only that my brother-in-law's disposition is more in tune with the Subduing Dragon Palm."

Over these three months, Feng Yi has roamed mountains and waters with Azhi, naturally incessantly imparting the essence of martial arts to her.

If Azhi were to engage the Sweeping Monk in combat, she would certainly not be a match on an individual basis.

But if it's only verbal discourse, she is clever and quick-witted, merely repeating Feng Yi's words—then it amounts to Feng Yi debating with the Sweeping Monk.

Initially everyone thought a little girl like Azhi unfit to debate with the Sweeping Monk, but as she spoke step by step, everyone was stirred; yet upon reflection that these were Feng Yi's words given to Azhi, it also made sense.

"Amitabha!" The old monk laughed: "Scholar Feng Yi has fine insight; the supreme Dao is simplest, when all things reach their peak, the principles therein also converge despite different paths, differing little."

Azi laughed and said: "My older brother also said, as the Art of War says: 'To attack the heart is supreme; to attack the city is inferior.' This Buddhist way of saving people is nothing but an attack on the heart; it's just that some people have deep‑seated obsessions, and no matter how great your reasoning, not everyone is willing to listen."

So if you want him to hear your reasoning properly, in the end you still have to rely on your martial skill, subduing him until he is obedient, making him go east and not dare go west; only then can you be said to have converted him.

Master, do you agree?

Everyone listening was dumbstruck.

The Sweeping Monk's old face, as calm as an ancient well, also twitched slightly.

(End of chapter)