Chapter 66

Gu Qing flicked his hand, and the Tatars' heads rolled on the ground with a clatter.

"You, you..."

The old monk glared at Gu Qing, his heart turning cold. If he had suspected Gu Qing was here to hold them accountable just a moment ago, now that Gu Qing had killed the Tatars, he was forcing the Shaolin Temple to take a side.

"Your Quanzhen Sect was burned down; do you also want the Shaolin Temple to be reduced to a barren wasteland?"

The old monk said angrily.

Everyone knew that the Quanzhen Sect was the leader of the world's martial arts, but everyone also knew that the Shaolin Temple was the source of the world's martial arts. The two names were mentioned together. In the current world, the Quanzhen Sect's reputation was extremely high, but a fire set by the Mongol prince Huo Du had caused the Quanzhen Sect to lose the Chongyang Palace and become a barren wasteland, while the ancient Shaolin temple had been preserved. Gu Qing's move had the implication of dragging Shaolin down with him.

"Am I really that bad?"

Gu Qing heard the monks around him talking one after another and understood the Shaolin monks' meaning, saying in surprise.

The old monk, in a fit of rage, shouted, "Luo Han Hall martial monks, take orders! Surround him!"

Gu Qing was killing people inside the Shaolin Temple; the Shaolin Temple would ultimately have to provide an explanation.

At this order, the martial monks on the left and right came one after another, holding sticks. There were a full 108 of them, surrounding Gu Qing in the middle. At this moment, the Mongols in the Shaolin Temple learned of the commotion in front and swarmed to this place. Surrounded by many Mongols, a Mongol prince stood under the corner of the hall on the hillside, looking down at Gu Qing.

"Old Abbot, is this that man-slaughterer Gu Qing?"

The Mongol prince said, "As long as you take him down and hand him over to us, the Great Mongol Empire will immediately pardon you as State-Protecting Dharma Masters, and the Shaolin Temple will be the number one temple in Mongolia."

The current Mongolia had boundless territory. In such territory, being called the number one temple was extremely tempting to Shaolin.

The current Shaolin Abbot was Zen Master Tianming. Upon hearing this, he silently chanted and said, "Shaolin is a place beyond the world..."

The old monk wearing the kasaya reached out and flicked his hand. The martial monks of the Luo Han Hall heard the order, and holding their sticks, some in front, some behind, some left, some right, they struck at Gu Qing in a chaotic manner.

Gu Qing was in the formation. He struck the leading stick with his hand, and the stick shook. The martial monk behind spat out blood and rolled to the ground, limp.

In this instant, Gu Qing's moves were strange, fast, and accurate. Palm strikes and finger pokes were all basic Quanzhen Sect skills. But after hitting the sticks, the monks behind them all looked up and spat blood, then collapsed to the ground. There was never a second move against any monk.

These Shaolin martial monks were all trained in the Luo Han Hall and were best at combined attack methods. Seeing Gu Qing's fierce moves, they immediately changed tactics. The sticks connected, and in an instant, it was like an iron barrel.

"What kind of martial arts are these?"

The old monk who gave the order asked the head of the Dafan Dafan Bore Hall.

Shaolin disciples who walked the Jianghu would report the various martial arts they encountered upon returning to the mountain gate. As long as there was something worth learning, the Dafan Dafan Bore Hall would record the martial arts and then think of ways to break them. Now, the old monk saw Gu Qing's strange palm moves and asked, aiming to have the Dafan Dafan Bore Hall provide a solution.

"The martial arts of the Quanzhen Sect, originating from Wang Chongyang."

The head of the Dafan Dafan Bore Hall said, "When he was at the Mount Hua Sword Discussion, he was called the Central Divine. Those two words 'Divine' should be the way of exerting force in Daoist martial arts. Such profound things—we only see the moves, and have absolutely no strategy to break them."

The old monk frowned and looked into the formation, watching the Shaolin monks connect their sticks and approach Gu Qing, intending to use an iron barrel human wall to trap Gu Qing inside.

Gu Qing was in the middle, calm and composed. He kicked his foot, and the sticks left behind by the Shaolin monks suddenly flew forward, poking the monks' legs. One monk was hit, and the monk next to him supported him forward. The iron barrel formation was undamaged. Gu Qing's footsteps were continuous, and the dozen or so sticks left behind here flew up one after another, heading toward the surrounding monks.

These sticks contained elasticity, and after one strike, they would rebound toward Gu Qing's position. Gu Qing was in the middle, hitting the sticks with palms or feet. A dozen sticks were flying in mid-air, now left, now right. This situation was just like the legendary Sun Wukong splitting his staff.

The Shaolin monks would have been fine if they had taken one hit, but now there were a dozen sticks at once, and the momentum was endless. Even those who practiced hard-body skills could not withstand it. One by one, their sticks left their hands, and they retreated while shouting.

A new wave of monks was about to move forward, but they saw Gu Qing holding a stick, twisting it in the air. The sticks in mid-air shot in all directions. They were hit head-on by the sticks and fell to the ground one by one.

This 108-man Luo Han formation had already suffered heavy damage after a few rounds. The remaining monks really dared not move forward. At this moment, Gu Qing abandoned the stick in his hand and suddenly pounced toward the Mongols. These Mongols were watching the show, and seeing Gu Qing's unfathomable divine power, they felt timid, only to see Gu Qing already close by.

"Pa pa pa pa!!!!"

Gu Qing's palm momentum was continuous. He easily turned a circle among the Mongols, then flipped and flew toward the Mongol prince under the hall eaves.

The Mongol prince was about to call for protection, but saw his subordinates spitting blood and rolling to the ground one by one, their bodies motionless. They were clearly dead.

Gu Qing, this demon, had held back against the Shaolin monks, but when he hit the Tatars, he never held back.

"Abbot, save me!"

This Mongol prince hid behind Abbot Tianming.

Abbot Tianming watched Gu Qing approach, pressed his palms together, as if praying, and when he got close, he suddenly reached out and slashed!

Gu Qing leaped and flew to the front, his palm meeting Abbot Tianming's palm. This was also the first time Gu Qing had palmed against someone after his martial arts were successful. As the two sides' palms slashed, Abbot Tianming felt as if he had hit a cotton ball, completely powerless.

And Gu Qing and he were like ordinary clapping. His momentum did not decrease at all. While his right hand was palming against Abbot Tianming, his left hand formed a fist and slammed directly into the Mongol prince's head!

"Bang!"

When palming against Abbot Tianming, Gu Qing used soft force. When slashing this Mongol prince, Gu Qing used hard force. This blow made the back of the Mongol prince's head look like it had been split open, red and white, all spilled on the hall behind!

Abbot Tianming withdrew his fist, pondering Gu Qing's moves just now. It was clearly the simultaneous use of two sets of martial arts, one hard and one soft, one to receive the palm, one to blast. This kind of move was beyond the common sense of martial arts known to Shaolin, but it was indeed efficient.

"I said it, I have a sickness where I can't control my hands when I see Tatars."

Gu Qing withdrew his fist, looked at Abbot Tianming, and said, "So I came to Shaolin to see the Buddhist scriptures and resolve my inner obstacles."

Abbot Tianming suddenly came to his senses and said, "The Shaolin Temple's methods are convenient. It is perfectly fine for the benefactor to come and see the Buddhist scriptures." After saying this, Abbot Tianming made a gesture to Gu Qing, inviting him to the Scripture Library.

"Abbot!"

The old monk shouted, "He killed so many people in the Shaolin Temple."

"People will eventually die. What difference does it make if they die here or there?"

After Abbot Tianming palmed against Gu Qing, he seemed to have a sudden realization, becoming very reasonable.

"But..."

The old monk still had words.

"Salt is tasty, but eating too much causes trouble."

Abbot Tianming said indifferently.

The old monk's unfinished words were about the Mongol State Preceptor. And the salt Abbot Tianming spoke of was a Buddhist fable, saying that a person found food tasteless, so he added salt to it. Feeling it was tasty, he started adding more salt, and as a result, he damaged his mouth.

Abbot Tianming said this because the position of the Mongol State Preceptor was like salt—it looked good, but eating too much was harmful.

More importantly... under their noses, a Mongol prince was killed, and they were all beaten into this state by Gu Qing. Still want to be a State Preceptor?

(End of chapter)