Chapter 245

Anyone who worries can see that these two are locked in combat, and unless one of them yields, no one can break them apart.

Interpretation: No matter who worries, everyone knows that these two are fighting together; unless they voluntarily stop, nobody can separate them.

We need faithful translation: "No matter who worries, everyone knows that these two are locked in battle; unless they voluntarily stop, nobody can separate them." Keep meaning.

Nobody dares utter a word to stop them, fearing it would distract the fighters and bring about catastrophe.

Translation: "Not even a word of dissuasion dares to be spoken, for fear of distracting the opponent and causing great disaster."

Both sprang into the air simultaneously, like cranes rising to the heavens, making a solid sound, and in an instant they unleashed nine strikes.

Translation: "Then both leapt up simultaneously, like cranes soaring to the heavens, with a solid thud, and in an instant they exchanged nine moves in midair."

They attacked again with swift fury; Xiao Feng, his father, Murong, his son, and other masters observed the brilliant exchanges, trying to anticipate each shift.

Translation: "The two again launched a rapid assault; Xiao Feng and his father, Murong and his father, and other experts, seeing the brilliance, strained to deduce the changes of both sides."

With a loud 'bang', their palms clashed in midair, sending each flying several zhang to land on a tree; they lightly tapped the branches with their toes, sprang back up, and returned to where they started, leaving the surrounding twigs and leaves shattered to dust.

Translation: "With a 'bang', the two exchanged palms in midair, each drifting several zhang away, landing in the trees; their toes lightly tapped the branches, they sprang up again, then fell back to the original spot, and the surrounding dry twigs and leaves had already been reduced to powder."

Xiao Feng thought, 'Their martial arts are extraordinarily profound; no matter who wins, it won't be pleasant for either.'

Translation: "Xiao Feng thought to himself: 'These two's martial arts are so sublime; whoever wins, I fear they will not fare well!'"

The sweeping monk suddenly yelled, thrusting a palm forward; midway he pulled his left hand back, turning both palms soft as cotton, drifting like fluff, and the force shifted abruptly, feeling both there and not.

Translation: "Suddenly the sweeping monk shouted, thrust out a palm; halfway through, he drew his left hand inward, and both palms became soft as cotton, floating like fluff, the force suddenly changing, seeming present yet absent."

The sweeping monk, sharp and knowledgeable, sensed Feng Yi's deep inner power, his prime vigor and endless techniques; he knew that direct force met force was Feng Yi's strength, so he chose to counter hardness with softness and substance with emptiness, waiting for Feng Yi's energy to falter before slipping in.

Translation: "The sweeping monk, perceptive, knew that Feng Yi possessed deep inner strength, in his prime with endless follow‑up moves; hard clashes and fierce contests were his forte, so he could only meet strength with softness and substance with emptiness, waiting for Feng Yi's qi to weaken before slipping in."

Feng Yi initially felt the old monk's palm power as strong and solid, but suddenly it seemed elusive and shifting, impossible to grasp, so he quickly drew his palm back to guard himself.

Translation: "Feng Yi originally felt the old monk's palm force mighty and substantial, but suddenly sensed it as elusive and unpredictable, with no place to land; he hastily retracted his palm force to protect himself."

Feng Yi, having fused many divine arts, considered his inner power peerless and thought the Dragon‑Subduing Eighteen Palms enough—yet he didn't expect that this monk, empty as bamboo, would be perilous whether he struck firm or gave way.

Translation: "Having fused various divine skills, Feng Yi felt his inner power unmatched under heaven; he thought the Eighteen Dragon‑Subduing Palms sufficed, yet he did not expect this old monk, empty as bamboo, to be dangerous whether solid or void."

Only because his palm force is both completely hard and completely soft, with steady following power, could he avoid the sweeping monk's lightning‑fast force changes that would otherwise throw his strength off balance and defeat him.

Translation: "Were it not for his palm force being both utmost hard and soft, with relentless following strength, the sweeping monk's power shifts so swiftly that it would be easy to misdirect one's force and suffer utter defeat."

When Feng Yi drew back his palm and his momentum faded, the old monk acted swiftly, a blue‑clad blur flashing to hover above Feng Yi's head.

Translation: "As Feng Yi withdrew his palm force and his momentum waned, the old monk seized the moment; a blue‑green flash, and he appeared above Feng Yi's head."

He fired six consecutive palms with both hands, each strike surpassing the previous, their forces piling up and multiplying manyfold—a raging torrent like a bronze wall and iron wall hurtling straight at Feng Yi.

Translation: "He unleashed six palms in succession, each stronger than the last, their force stacking like waves; the power increased manifold, a furious torrent like a bronze wall and iron barrier, pressing straight at Feng Yi."

Feng Yi sensed a massive force bearing down from above, knowing the old monk had taken the initiative; a head‑on clash would leave him on the defensive until defeat, so he swiftly waved his hands as if strumming five strings.

Translation: "Feng Yi felt a great force pressing down from above; knowing the old monk had seized the initiative, he realized that a hard clash would inevitably put him on the defensive until defeat, so he immediately waved his hands swiftly, as if plucking five strings,"

A series of hisses rang out as his true qi whirled like dancing swords; his palm force was shattered into fragments, and a sword‑qi burst forth unimpeded toward the sweeping monk.

Translation: "With a series of 'hiss' sounds, his true qi danced like swords and blades; this palm force was scattered into disarray, and a sword qi shot forth unimpeded toward the sweeping monk."

The crowd marveled at this divine skill, cheering loudly, though no one knew what martial art it was; the Shaolin practitioners were stunned and silent, never imagining that the old monk's power could be pierced by Feng Yi's palm.

Translation: "All witnessed this divine technique, erupting in cheers, yet none understood what skill it was; the Shaolin folk were all shocked and speechless, never expecting that the old monk's ability would be broken through by Feng Yi's palm force."

Murong Bo chuckled, 'Great! I've long heard the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword is the world's finest sword; seeing it now, it truly lives up to its reputation—what a shame, what a shame!'

Translation: "Murong Bo laughed: 'Excellent! I have long heard that the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword is the number one sword under heaven; seeing it today, it truly lives up to its fame—alas, alas!'"

'What's the pity?' Azhi asked.

Translation: "'Alas what?' Azhi asked."

Murong Bo shook his head; he had long considered the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword the supreme sword and the Shaolin Yijin Jing the ultimate martial‑arts treasure. Their clash fulfilled his longtime wish, yet he regretted not being able to witness it firsthand.

Translation: "Murong Bo shook his head; he had once deemed the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword the supreme sword under heaven and the Shaolin Yijin Jing the ultimate martial treasure; their clash now fulfilled his long‑held wish, yet he regretted that he could not personally experience it."

With a sigh, the old monk grew as light as a paper cut, floating back more than a zhang, and said calmly, 'Layman, to see the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword return to the jianghu is wonderful and congratulatory; I am truly honored. But in my opinion, your sword is still unrefined—just a test.'

Translation: "Hearing a sigh, the old monk's body instantly became as light as a paper effigy, drifting back over a zhang, and he said leisurely: 'Layman, to let the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword reappear in the jianghu is delightful and congratulatory; I am also deeply honored! But in my view, your sword is still unrefined in its trial.'"

Feng Yi smiled, 'Master, you see it perfectly.'

Translation: "Feng Yi laughed: 'Master sees it clearly!'"

After mastering the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword, one can turn true qi into an invisible qi‑sword—countless variations, force focused to a point, able to shatter any obstruction, wielding a divine power far beyond ordinary palm strikes.

Translation: "Once the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword is cultivated, one can transform true qi into an invisible qi‑sword, myriad and wondrous, condensing force to a point; unleashed, it cuts through anything, possessing a divine might distinct from the ferocity of palm power."

In the Dali Duan line, only the founder Duan Siping and one Duan Yu have mastered the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword; but Duan Yu's skill is hit‑or‑miss, leading observers to sometimes underestimate this profound art.

Translation: "Among the Dali Duan clan, only the founder Duan Siping and one Duan Yu have mastered the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword; yet he is sometimes effective, sometimes not, leading those who have seen him to look down on this esoteric art."

Feng Yi has indeed cultivated it, but his training is brief, his mastery not yet at the highest level, and he seldom meets a master like the sweeping monk, so he rarely employs it.

Translation: "Although Feng Yi has cultivated it, his training period is still short, his attainment has not reached the peak of perfection, and he seldom encounters a master like the sweeping monk, so he rarely uses it."

Yet just now Feng Yi was forced to use it, cutting through the opponent's palm force to seize the initiative.

Translation: "However, just now Feng Yi had no choice but to deploy this technique, slicing through the opponent's palm force and regaining the initiative."

As they talked, Feng Yi swiftly turned, circling the sweeping monk in a looping path, his figure drifting erratically like a flight through the air, leaving the spectators shocked and exchanging glances.

Translation: "While speaking, Feng Yi's body swiftly turned, circling the sweeping monk in a loop; his form was elusive and unpredictable, like soaring through the void, leaving everyone staring in shock."

'Marvelous lightness!' Xiao Feng exclaimed, deeply impressed.

Translation: "'Marvelous lightness!' Xiao Feng could not help but be moved."

Feng Yi used the ancient tomb footwork, light as a startled swan, agile as a gliding dragon; his hands performed the Six Meridian sword techniques—Shao Shang, Shang Yang, Zhong Chong, Guan Chong, Shao Chong, Shao Ze—flashing in all directions like quicksilver, penetrating every opening, the whistle of his fingertips unceasing.

Translation: "Feng Yi employed the ancient tomb footwork, light as a startled swan, agile as a swimming dragon; with both hands he performed the Six‑Meridian Sword techniques—Shao Shang, Shang Yang, Zhong Chong, Guan Chong, Shao Chong, Shao Ze—crisscrossing in flight, swift like mercury spilled on the ground, penetrating every opening, the sound of his fingertips breaking wind never ceasing."

The old monk also praised, 'Superb footwork; such a peerless, unparalleled art—could it also be the Dali Duan clan's martial art?'

Translation: "The old monk also praised aloud: 'Excellent footwork; such an unparalleled art of the ages—could it also be the martial art of the Dali Duan clan?'"

Though learned and experienced, he did not recognize this lightness technique, and his sharp sight immediately showed him that Shaolin's lightness was inferior to Feng Yi's.

Translation: "He, well‑versed and knowledgeable, actually did not recognize this lightness skill; moreover, his keen eyesight told him at a glance that Shaolin's lightness paled beside Feng Yi's."

As the old monk spoke, his hands never stopped; turning and waving his sleeves, he seemed to float on waves like a bit of duckweed on a great surge, rising and falling with the current, unable to steer himself.

Translation: "While the old monk spoke, his hands never ceased; turning and sweeping his sleeves, he seemed to drift upon waves, like a duckweed leaf in a torrential flood, bearing up and down, going with the flow, unable to control himself."

The onlookers were dazzled and stunned, speechless; while the old monk's age and his standing as the orthodox Shaolin master made his skill plausible, how could Feng Yi, so young, reach such a height? It was inconceivable.

Translation: "The heroes watched, dazzled and shaken, tongues tied; though the old monk's age and his status as the orthodox Shaolin master were understandable, how could Feng Yi, at his age, attain such a realm? It was beyond imagination."

Azhi laughed, 'Big brother will win!'

Translation: "Azhi laughed: 'Big brother will win!'"

Xiao Feng shook his head, 'Not necessarily!'

Translation: "Xiao Feng shook his head: 'Not necessarily!'"

He realized that Feng Yi, while swiftly changing his stance, was simultaneously using the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword, yet could not get within one chi of the sweeping monk, as if an invisible barrier protected him.

Translation: "In fact, he saw that Feng Yi, while rapidly shifting his stance, simultaneously wielded the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword, yet could never penetrate within one chi of the sweeping monk, as if an invisible barrier shielded him."

Soon hisses rang out again and again; much of Feng Yi's invisible sword qi was bounced away, kicking up sand and turning the soil, as though he were digging a hole for the sweeping monk.

Translation: "Soon the 'hiss' sounds rose and fell; much of Feng Yi's invisible sword qi was bounced away, sand flying, soil turning, as if he were digging a pit for the sweeping monk."

Feng Yi felt his sword qi as if plunging into cotton—exceedingly awkward—and blurted, 'Master, is this the Vajra Indestructible Divine Skill?'

Translation: "Feng Yi felt his sword qi as if stabbing into cotton, exceedingly awkward, and blurted: 'Master, is this the Diamond Indestructible Divine Skill?'"

The old monk declared loudly, 'Yes, but not entirely; it embodies the idea of a mustard seed in Mount Sumeru.'

Translation: "The old monk proclaimed loudly: 'Yes, but not entirely; it takes the meaning of Sumeru mustard seed.'"

Feng Yi said, 'Ah, I see!'

Translation: "Feng Yi said: 'Now I understand!'"

He realized that the mustard seed in Mount Sumeru represents the vast profundity of Buddhist teaching—embracing everything while being exquisitely perfect; if the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword is like countless wild horses charging wildly, then penetrating within one chi of the old monk is like food for him; no matter how strong or great the force, it ultimately turns to emptiness and cannot be overcome.

Translation: "He understood that Sumeru mustard seed describes the vast profundity of the Dharma—embracing all things yet exquisitely exquisite; if the Six‑Meridian Divine Sword is like countless wild horses galloping and charging wildly, then entering within one chi of the old monk is like becoming his food; no matter how strong or great the force, it ultimately becomes emptiness, beyond remedy."

Feng Yi thought, 'I guess I have to use brute force.' His robes billowed, he resembled a great bird soaring upward, and with a shout he thrust both palms down, a violent gale like a mountain pressing down.

Translation: "Feng Yi thought to himself: 'It seems I must resort to brute force.' His robes fluttered, he took the shape of a great bird, soaring to mid‑air, and with a shout his palms descended like a raging gale pressing down like a mountain."

Everyone felt a chill creep in, and suddenly they all circulated their inner power to resist.

Translation: "Everyone felt a chill seep in, and suddenly they all circulated their energy to resist."

In fact, Feng Yi's palm power was matchlessly mighty, exceeding a thousand jin, and his true qi also contained a yin‑cold chill; he was readying for a final showdown with the old monk.

Translation: "Indeed, Feng Yi's palm power was matchlessly formidable, exceeding a thousand jun, his true qi also containing a yin chill; he was about to make a final showdown with the old monk."

The nearby martial‑arts experts, seeing Feng Yi's sudden strike, all cried out 'Ah ya!' in shock.

Translation: "The surrounding martial arts experts, seeing Feng Yi's sudden strike, could not help but cry out 'Ah ya!' in alarm."

Such was the ferocity of Feng Yi's palm force that the onlookers stayed at the edge, still circulating their energy to resist; even though the old monk stood at the center and possessed transcendent‑to‑saintly cultivation, he could not rely solely on bone and sinew.

Translation: "Such was the fury of Feng Yi's palm power that the onlookers retreated to the periphery, still circulating their energy to resist; even if the old monk, standing in the midst, possessed transcendent sage‑level cultivation, he could not rely on his bones and sinews."

Seeing a flicker, the old monk saw Feng Yi already airborne, descending from above; his force was like a mountain and a wall, as heavy as peaks, as tight as a net, sealing off every direction.

Translation: "Seeing a flash of a figure, the old monk observed Feng Yi already in mid‑air, descending from above; his force was like a mountain and a wall, heavy as peaks, dense as a net, sealing off all directions."

Even if his protective divine skill were immensely strong, he could not keep Feng Yi's solid palm force beyond one chi; short of meeting it head‑on, there was truly no escape or alternative, so he immediately thrust out both palms as well.

Translation: "Even if his protective divine skill were strongest, it could not block Feng Yi's solid palm force beyond one chi; aside from meeting it head‑on, there was no way out, no recourse, so he likewise thrust out both palms."

When their palms collided, a thunderous 'boom' erupted, like the earth splitting and mountains collapsing; the roar rang in everyone's ears, hearts pounded, shockwaves blasted outward, whipping up gusts and clouds of dust.

Translation: "When their palms met, a 'boom‑rumble' erupted, like the earth splitting and mountains collapsing; the sound was so great that it only made everyone's ears ring, hearts pound, gusts blast in all directions, whipping up winds, dust and sand flying."

Everyone shouted in unison; someone waved a palm and sleeve to blast away the wind, and all that could be seen was Feng Yi and the old monk pressing palm to palm.

Translation: "All cried out in unison; someone extended a palm and swept his sleeve to dispel the wind, and all that could be seen was Feng Yi and the old monk pressing their palms together."

Feng Yi's handsome face paled, the old monk's face flushed red, his white beard fluttering, and white vapor grew thicker above his head.

Translation: "Feng Yi's handsome face turned pale, the old monk's face flushed red, his white beard fluttered, and white vapor above his head grew ever thicker,"

Yet neither moved; they stood motionless like two stone statues.

Translation: "yet neither moved, like two stone statues."

Everyone knew they were testing inner strength, and couldn't help but feel deeply worried.

Translation: "Everyone knew they were comparing inner strength, and could not help but feel great anxiety."

In other matches, the loser might only get hurt, but in a contest of inner strength there is no room for luck.

Translation: "Know that in other contests, the loser might merely suffer a bruise, but in a contest of inner strength, luck plays no part."

Determining the winner also decides life or death!

Translation: "To decide victory or defeat is to decide life or death!"

Even if evenly matched, both could still die together!

Translation: "Even if evenly matched, both could perish together!"

Therefore, martial‑arts masters avoid comparing inner strength unless absolutely necessary, lest they seek honor and instead bring disgrace and lose their lives.

Translation: "Thus martial arts masters will not compare inner strength unless absolutely necessary, lest seeking honor bring disgrace and cost their lives!"

But worrying is futile; these two great masters each possess divine arts, and no one in the world can settle their conflict.

Translation: "But worrying is futile; these two great masters each wield divine skills, and no one in the world can neutralize them."

Feng Yi felt his blood rush upward, yet sensed the opponent's inner power flowing ceaselessly; though extremely soft, it was immensely tenacious, endless and boundless.

Translation: "Feng Yi felt his blood surging upward, yet sensed the opponent's inner force flowing ceaselessly; although extremely soft, it was extraordinarily tenacious, endless and boundless."

The sweeping monk also felt a yin‑cold force surge into his wrist; while he used inner power to resist, he expelled the yin‑cold qi from his body, saying, 'Feng Yi, if you use your skill like this, even if you win you will surely fall seriously ill afterward.'

Translation: "And the sweeping monk felt a yin chill streaming straight into his wrist; while circulating his inner force to resist, he expelled the inner yin qi, saying: 'Feng layman, if you exert yourself thus, even if you win you will surely fall gravely ill afterward!'"

Feng Yi heard he could still speak; the depth of his internal energy was truly unfathomable; in an instant he felt admiration, his urge to contend vanished, and he said, "Master, your divine abilities, I admire!" He then gradually withdrew his power.

One must know that Feng Yi's internal strength is formidable, uniting righteous and evil, Buddhist and Daoist cultivation combined; speaking only of his overbearing, fierce aspect, he surpasses anyone in the present age, but after all his cultivation time is too short.

This old monk merely stayed in the Sutra Pavilion of Shaolin Temple for forty-three years; the purity of his internal energy is something Feng Yi could never hope to match.

Feng Yi bears no grudge against him; having fought to this point, he truly does not wish to continue the struggle.

Xiao Feng said loudly: "Master, Brother Feng, with your two martial arts attainments, today's gathering is a rare occurrence in a hundred years, enough to let martial arts shine brightly; why must we insist on deciding victory or defeat, life or death?"

In fact, the old monk sensed that Feng Yi was gradually withdrawing his energy, so he too began to withdraw; but comparing internal strength is like drinking water—its warmth or chill is known only to oneself, outsiders cannot discern.

The old monk laughed: "Sir Xiao, your heart is benevolent; truly the nature of a hero."

Feng Yi also said: "Yes, if it were anyone else, they'd probably hope we both perish together; today our intentions are exhausted here, no need to fight further!" As he spoke, both shot away in opposite directions.

The sweeping monk laughed: "Excellent, intentions exhausted here, no need to fight further!" Saying this, he flicked his sleeve, raised his head and laughed long: "When fate brings together, life arises; when fate ends, things cease; such is the principle, human effort cannot seek it!" His silhouette flickered a few times, and he had already stepped out of the forest.

This fierce battle truly startled everyone's hearts, yet the old monk suddenly vanished, truly carefree.

Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo, palms together, said to Master Xuan Ji, Master Xuan Nan, and the others: "Our ill fame spreads across the four seas; I do not know whether your temple's venerable masters will accept us as disciples."

Xiao Feng and Murong Fu again felt an indescribable sorrow.

Master Xuan Ji said: "We have practiced Chan for many years; although we have not attained the emptiness of the four elements nor the unreality of the five aggregates, in worldly matters of right and wrong, grudges and entanglements we can also view them lightly; since you two now lay down the butcher's knife and wish to devote yourselves to revering the Buddha, our temple cannot refuse you."

Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo, palms together, performed the salute, saying "Excellent, excellent," then each swept a hand over his head, and all their hair fell away.

The two laughed facing each other, flicked their sleeves, and were already ten feet away,

Xiao Feng and Murong Fu shouted: "Father, where are you going?" Before they finished speaking, the two had already rushed out of the forest.

The heroes saw that Xiao Yuanshan and Murong Bo, having been enlightened by the nameless old monk's Buddhist teachings, had taken refuge in the Three Treasures and become monks at Shaolin Temple.

The Shaolin sect's martial arts would not be transmitted outward, especially not to Liao State; thus the heroes of the Central Plains all felt relieved.

Feng Yi had already exchanged blows with the sweeping monk; as for where these two would end up, he did not care, so he did not hinder them, turning to Master Xuan Ji and saying: "Master, where is your sect's Xu Zhu's master?"

Master Xuan Ji was startled; Shaolin Temple has over a thousand monks, aside from several dozen of the Kong class, there are also the Hui class, plus a few miscellaneous workers not in the ranks, and the remaining Xu and Kong classes also number in the hundreds; as the chief seat, he truly did not know this disciple.

Master Xuan Du said: "Great Hero Feng, why do you seek my disciple?"

Master Xuan Du is kind and amiable, greatly loved by the temple's junior monks. When Xu Zhu was sixteen, he had been assigned to sweep the grounds and brew tea for Master Xuan Du, serving him for eight months. Master Xuan Du treated him very affectionately, even instructing him in some Luohan fist techniques, so he knew Xu Zhu. Feng Yi laughed: "I have been entrusted with a message to convey to him."

Master Xuan Du nodded: "Xu Zhu, come out."

"Yes! Grand-uncle master!"

As the words fell, a young monk in his early twenties stepped forward from among the Shaolin monks.

Everyone wanted to see who could make Feng Yi take notice; what kind of person he was—only to see thick brows and large eyes, a huge nose with nostrils upturned, his appearance rather ugly, his monk's robe patched many times yet clean, his expression somewhat dazed, moreover somewhat agitated, yet he walked with furtive steps, as if afraid to tread on an ant on the ground.

He approached Feng Yi, lowered his head and drooped his eyebrows, pressed his palms together, and said: "Junior monk Xu Zhu offers his respects."

Feng Yi said: "Several masters, I have some words to speak with him privately."

"Please, benefactor!" Master Xuan Ji said.

Feng Yi seized Xu Zhu and leapt outward.

Although the crowd was curious, they also knew Feng Yi had words he did not wish others to hear to say to Xu Zhu, so they could only respect his privacy.

A Zi, however, said: "Wait for me!" Mei Lan Zhu Ju also followed after.

=9+_

Feng Yi brought Xu Zhu to a secluded spot, only to see Xu Zhu tightly closing his eyes, murmuring Buddhist sutras.

Feng Yi laughed: "You are not afraid of me, yet you are still reciting the sutra."

Xu Zhu opened his eyes and said: "Sir, you are a good person; moreover, my grand-uncle master sent me to follow you, so I am not afraid."

Saying this with an air of admiration and reverence, Feng Yi's peerless bearing displayed in the Mahavira Hall had long made Xu Zhu's blood boil; seeing him match a master of his own sect, shaking earth and moving mountains, only further caused Xu Zhu to regard Feng Yi as a celestial being.

Feng Yi laughed: "You are truly a fine piece of jade; you will surely become a great talent in martial arts."

Xu Zhu, flustered, said: "I dare not accept your praise, Sir; I am utterly dull and weak in aptitude, not material for martial arts."

Feng Yi laughed: "If you were stupid, how would you know I am the patron?"

Xu Zhu's face instantly reddened past his ears.

Feng Yi laughed: "All right, I won't tease you anymore. We won't mention almsgiving; however, having met here, it is also fate, and there is something I wish to borrow your hand to return to its rightful owner."

Xu Zhu felt bewildered and at a loss, saying: "What?"

Feng Yi took out a secret manual from his bosom and said: "This is your sect's Sanskrit Yi Jin Jing, which also contains a method of Divine Foot; you can go to the Sutra Pavilion and ask that old monk for guidance."

Upon hearing this, Xu Zhu's face showed shock, suspicion, feeling deceived, humiliation, his forehead veins jumping, his face red as fire.

The three characters 'Yi Jin Jing' are, to Xu Zhu, naturally not unfamiliar.

But is this really true?

How did he obtain it?

And why would they have him pass it on?

All these doubts caused large beads of sweat to well up on his bald head.

Seeing Xu Zhu's appearance, Feng Yi patted his shoulder and said: "Xu Zhu, if you had a choice, would you rather be a monk or marry a wife, drink alcohol, and eat meat…"

Xu Zhu shook his hand repeatedly: "Sir, do not speak nonsense, Amitabha…" his whole body sweated like a steamer, soaking his clothes.

Feng Yi laughed: "All right, I was just joking with you, please don't mind." He handed the secret manual to him, then turned and left.

Only then did Xu Zhu awaken, holding the secret manual in his hand, doubtful in his heart, about to ask, but Feng Yi's figure had already vanished.

He did not understand.

He really did not understand.

He was dazed, when suddenly a mountain wind blew; Xu Zhu felt cold, startled, and cried out loudly: "Master, master…" his voice full of panic, he ran toward the Shaolin Temple.

Feng Yi and A Zi and the others were behind a tree; A Zi watched Xu Zhu's receding back and snapped: "Big Brother, why are you being so good to this monk? He won't just go rampaging through Shaolin Temple, will he?"

Feng Yi said: "This is not being good to him; it is merely that in one's lifetime, one should try not to owe others, and that is enough."

A Zi, puzzled, said: "What do you owe him?"

A Zi did not realize that without Feng Yi, not only would her own martial prowess be lacking, but even the abilities of Tong Lao and Li Qiu Shui would have been obtained by Xu Zhu.

Moreover, Feng Yi also killed Xu Zhu's mother, leaving him to this day unaware of who his parents are.

Feng Yi seized Xu Zhu's rightful opportunity and gave it to his own woman; how others understand it is none of his concern.

But here, he ought to repay Xu Zhu a share, and also find peace for himself.

Even if Xu Zhu becomes a monk at Shaolin Temple, that is precisely what he has long dreamed of.

In doing things, I seek only to have no guilt in my heart!

Mei Jian said, "Supreme Master, between you and this old monk, who will win?"

Feng Yi looked up at the sky and said softly, "Until the end, perhaps only it knows."

Lan Jian said, "Granny once said that in the martial world, the rumors claim the Shaolin Sect is the foremost of all martial arts, the pinnacle of the martial world—indeed formidable!"

Ju Jian said, "If Shaolin Temple obtains this Yijin Jing, they will become even more arrogant."

Feng Yi smiled and said, "The Sanskrit Yijin Jing I obtained is Bodhidharma's true transmission; Shaolin Temple also has a Chinese translation of the Yijin Jing, but this internal skill is hard to grasp, so over the past few centuries, those who have succeeded in cultivating it can be counted on one hand."

Zhu Jian chuckled, "Supreme Master, why do you say that little monk is fine material and beautiful jade? I see him as dull and clueless."

Feng Yi chuckled lightly, "You don't understand; this monk appears clumsy, but his nature is simple and sincere—he is a talent for cultivating divine skill, perhaps one in a hundred thousand. If he receives guidance from an expert, he will surely bring great glory to Shaolin Temple in the future—let's go!"

They descended the mountain leisurely; the several women nodded silently and followed Feng Yi.

A Zi asked, "Big brother, where are we going?"

Feng Yi said, "My wish is fulfilled; under this vast heaven, there is nowhere I cannot go."

"Supreme Master, let's return to Piao Miao Peak!"

"Yes, yes!"

A Zi snorted, "All you think about is returning to Piao Miao Peak—what are you planning?"

The four women laughed in unison, "We four sisters all want to marry the Supreme Master as his concubines!"

Before Feng Yi could speak, A Zi said, "We have decided to send you to my brother; he will become the Emperor of Dali and appoint you as imperial consorts—how wonderful!"

Upon hearing this, the four women were all stunned.

Feng Yi laughed, "Then I cannot bear to part with them!"

The four women shouted together, "A true man keeps his word!"

Feng Yi burst into laughter.

A Zi gave him a sideways glance and said, "They're just being mischievous; indulge them."

Feng Yi replied, "I actually find them as lovely and charming as you; I still need to indulge them."

Upon hearing this, A Zi tilted her head and smiled, feeling sweet inside, and said, "Are we just going down the mountain like this?"

Feng Yi said, "What else?"

A Zi's face flashed with a hint of helplessness as she said, "Shall we not greet the heroes of the martial world and instead enjoy their reverent worship?"

Feng Yi smiled and said, "In Li Bai's 'Song of the Knight-Errant' there is the line, 'Having finished affairs, I brush off my clothes and go, hiding my body and name'; though I am not a knight-errant, I also like this carefree, unrestrained spirit."

As the saying goes, 'Right and wrong, success and failure vanish in an instant'; just as that old monk said, perhaps heaven, earth, sun, moon, and we ourselves are illusory—if we cling to displaying power in the martial world, we merely become attached to appearances.

A Zi pursed her lips and said, "I see you, your words are becoming more and more like a monk's—do you want to become a monk?"

Lan Jian gave A Zi a sideways glance, clapped and laughed, "Good, good, Granny once said that the two characters 'Lingjiu' of Lingjiu Palace originally have an affinity with Buddhism; Supreme Master, you might as well become a monk outright—we would accept that too."

She deliberately provoked A Zi; A Zi wouldn't have it, went to strike Lan Jian, Mei Jian and a few others stepped in to help, and they ended up in a chaotic scuffle.

Watching the women scuffle, Feng Yi also felt broad-minded and laughed loudly, "Becoming a monk need not be rushed, but returning home to attend to proper business is rather urgent." They chatted and laughed, and soon descended Shaoshi Mountain.

Feng Yi suddenly let out an 'eh'; the others followed his gaze and saw a thatched hut by the roadside. Feng Yi shouted, "Who is peeking from in there?"

"It's me!" a clear voice cried out, "It's me, it's me!" Before the wooden gate appeared a youthful figure, his clothes ragged and his face dirty.

Feng Yi immediately stared dumbfounded. (End of chapter)