Chapter 1908: then translation of chapter title

Flames ignited from inside the Cangshuge; the phosphorus arrows were made of special material, which not only does not extinguish on contact with water but burns even fiercer. As expected, the Tibetan monks inside the Cangshuge soon noticed the fire. They rushed over with buckets of water to help, but when the water was splashed onto the burning phosphorus arrows, with a boom the flames did not go out but shot up higher. Two monks fighting the fire were instantly engulfed by the flames, screaming as they fled in all directions. A companion came over intending to smother them with a blanket, only to be grabbed around the waist by the burning monk, and the phosphorus fire leapt onto the companion's body.

Several monks had caught fire, flailing about like headless flies. Since the phosphorus fire already spread quickly, their panicked, indiscriminate flight greatly accelerated the blaze's spread. Moreover, a monk tumbled down the stairs, and wherever he went, everything caught fire.

Hu Xiaotian peered through a crack and saw the horrific scene inside; he silently sighed that, had it not been for the greater good, he would not have struck so ruthlessly.

At that moment a harsh shout came from below—someone had spotted Hu Xiaotian on the eaves of the Cangshuge.

A red‑clad monk was the first to react; he planted his foot and lunged toward Hu Xiaotian's hiding place.

Hu Xiaotian raised his hand, aimed at the monk and loosed an arrow. The hand‑held crossbow was specially made by Zhuge Guanqi; even at close range it would be hard for a top‑tier expert to deal with, let alone an ordinary monk. The monk was struck squarely by the phosphorus arrow, screamed in mid‑air, his whole body ignited, his motions went awry, he slammed hard against the eave's edge and then plummeted straight down.

Clang! Clang! Clang! A metallic ringing rose from below. Hu Xiaotian looked up and saw more than a dozen monks brandishing gleaming gold sutra tubes; with a swift turn of the right hand, the tubes' edges clanged, revealing a row of sharp blades. Accompanied by the monks' angry shouts in unison, the tubes spun and flew toward him from various angles.

Hu Xiaotian snorted coldly, leapt into the air, and drew a soft sword from his waist. This soft sword had just been forged for him by Zong Tang; it was tougher and sharper than the previous one. A ribbon of white light enveloped his body. Hearing the constant clatter of projectiles, he knocked down each of the Buddhist hidden weapons flying at him. By now the fire in the Cangshuge had started from within, thick smoke rising. He did not want to linger fighting these monks and prepared to break away, when a gray shadow darted from the crowd and struck at him with a palm.

Before the person arrived, the palm force pressed forward; the gathering and dispersing smoke split apart, the dust cleared, and a mighty invisible palm‑blade, with the aura of rending heaven and earth, chopped down toward Hu Xiaotian's head. Sensing the sudden surge of pressure from ahead, he instantly knew the opponent was formidable; without hesitation he flicked his soft sword in the air, and the blade instantly transformed into myriad rays of light. The light sliced the invisible palm‑blade into countless fragments, and its great power, broken into countless segments, dissolved into nothing.

Hu Xiaotian deflected the opponent's palm‑blade with his right‑hand sword, drew back his left fist slightly, then launched an arcing strike like a sea‑jiao dragon leaping from the water. This punch resembled a boxing swing; though simple, it was a distillation of his God‑Demon World‑Destroying Fist, and with his powerful inner energy gathered into it, its force was not to be underestimated. By now he had made out the attacker's face—the sudden assailant was the mute henchman of the Ghost Doctor Fu Duo.

The mute's palm‑blade, having been neutralized by Hu Xiaotian, instantly retracted his right fist, turned palm to fist, gave the fist‑tip a subtle reverse twist, and collided head‑on with Hu Xiaotian's incoming punch.

Both bodies hung in mid‑air, but Hu Xiaotian held the higher ground and his inner strength surpassed the mute's; their fists met squarely. An invisible shockwave radiated outward from them, and the smoke and dust enveloping their bodies instantly cleared away.

Unable to withstand the tremendous pressure of Hu Xiaotian's punch, the mute's body fell straight down; while descending he twisted and turned, trying to prolong his fall time and distance to gain ample cushioning.

After that punch, Hu Xiaotian used the rebound force to shoot his body upward like an eagle soaring to the sky, and at the same time fired a whistling arrow into the air. The arrow shot straight into the clouds, exploded at its peak with a loud 'Boom!', and colorful thick smoke appeared in the sky.

Dong! Dong! The evening drum and morning bell are an immutable rule in Buddhist temples, yet today the bells and drums sounded together, obviously something major was happening. Before the bell tower, a bronze bell weighing thousands of jin was lifted overhead; the monk holding it, with tiger eyes and braided beard, was none other than Master Xiangyin. The bell, weighing a thousand jun, felt light as a feather in his hands, seemingly effortless, as he stepped toward the Golden Summit Hall. On the other side of the drum tower, a white‑haired old man gripped a drum mallet and struck the great drum—dong! dong! dong! dong! —the dull sound waves spread in all directions; any monk who heard the drum felt his heartbeat affected, as if an invisible force were tearing at his heart, pain reaching its peak.

Just as the monks were suffering unbearably, Xiangyin slapped the great bell with his palm; the bell's tone rang like a thunderclap from a clear sky—a loud 'Dong!'—and it shocked more than a dozen monks into vomiting blood and dying on the spot. One monk hurriedly warned the others to tear off their clothes and stuff them in their ears to lessen the impact. At the same time, hundreds of monks converged on Xiangyin, realizing they must first eliminate these two unfamiliar visitors to remove the danger.

Xiangyin laughed loudly, watching the tide‑like crowd of monks surge toward him; instead of retreating he quickened his steps. Suddenly he hurled the great bell upside‑down; the bell spun like a top, racing across the ground, and as it rolled forward the friction between its top and the earth threw off a long trail of sparks. Xiangyin leapt into the air and landed on the bell, driving it with his inner energy as if riding an invincible war chariot; the bell crashed into the monk crowd. Although most of Fan Yin Si's monks had rushed to the Cangshuge to fight the fire, there were still over two hundred here. Seeing the bell come speeding, they scrambled to dodge; those who failed were struck and crushed—light injuries meant broken bones and torn tendons, heavy ones were ground into flesh‑paste.

Although Xiangyin was a Buddhist disciple, his murderous nature was extraordinarily heavy.

The old man beating the drum was Liu Yuzhang. According to their prior plan, after Ji Feihua entered the Golden Summit Hall, Hu Xiaotian would go to the Cangshuge to set fire; once Hu Xiaotian gave the signal, Xiangyin and Liu Yuzhang would enter through the main gate to create chaos, drawing the attention of the Fan Yin Si monks, thereby giving Hu Xiaotian and Yuanmu the chance to go to the Golden Summit Hall to rendezvous.

Liu Yuzhang lifted his leg and kicked the great drum out of the drum tower; the drum rolled forward gurgling. Liu Yuzhang leapt into the air, his drum mallet like a meteor smashing toward two monks who charged at him holding Zen staffs. Seeing the mallet flash like lightning, the monks hastily raised their staffs to knock it down; although the staffs struck the mallet, they could not withstand its overwhelming force, and the mallet rebounded, striking the monks' skulls squarely, blasting out their brains and killing them instantly.

Liu Yuzhang tapped the tip of his foot, soared up, and alternately stepped on the great drum with both feet; the drum sounded dong‑dong‑dong, as if heaven and earth themselves were trembling.

With bells and drums sounding together, a buzzing noise came from all directions around Fan Yin Si. The monks looked up and saw a dark, heavy cloud of crows sweeping in from the eastern sky. On closer look, it was not clouds at all but tens of thousands of crows, each not small, gathered together to block the temple's upper air, plunging the whole Fan Yin Si into sudden gloom, as if night had fallen.

Xima fled desperately toward the outside of the Golden Summit Hall, when she saw a thin figure walking toward her, blocking her path—the young novice who had just guided her and Ji Feihua. Xima pleaded with the novice, "Little Master, please let me leave this place."

The novice's face was expressionless as he said, "You dare disrespect the Living Buddha; today I will surely take your life as an offering to the Buddha." Such vicious words from one so young. He threw a punch at Xima, his strike flashing like lightning, evidently his martial arts were not weak.

Although Xima was skilled at horseback archery and had some ability in martial arts, after exchanging a single punch with the novice his arm went numb and sore, forcing him to retreat. After delivering his punch, the novice snapped his waist‑band with a 'jang!' and drew his precept blade; the blade flashed, each strike as swift as the last, showing no intention to spare him—clearly he meant to take Xima's life.

Xima had not had time to put on clothes; she wore only a towel. Moreover, the novice's martial arts were so formidable that after a few exchanges she already showed signs of defeat. The novice seized the moment and slashed at her shoulder; though Xima promptly lowered her shoulder, the blow did not land fully, yet it still sprayed her with blood. Her delicate frame swayed once, she clenched her lips tight, and her face turned as pale as paper.

The novice stepped closer to her, his face showing a cruel grin that belied his age.

Xima's fragrant shoulder was half exposed; her snow‑like beautiful skin was cut by the precept blade, leaving a blood‑stain about an inch long, blood oozing out and staining the white towel red—truly a shocking sight. She held a jade flute between her lips, blowing hard, but no sound came out.

The novice gazed at her curiously, wondering why, on the brink of death, she still blew that jade flute—could she be calling for help?

A war‑eagle swooped down from the sky straight toward the Golden Summit Hall; wherever it passed, the crows scattered. Hu Xiaotian had already arrived near the Golden Summit Hall; seeing the eagle's dive direction, he roughly located Xima's position. He shouted loudly, summoning the eagle. The eagle banked sideways in mid‑air and swept past him; as it passed, Hu Xiaotian leapt up and landed securely on its back. The eagle's momentum did not wane as it headed for the southwest corner of the Golden Summit Hall.

Hu Xiaotian drew a black‑iron sword from the eagle's saddle sheath, gathered all his strength, and struck straight at the hall's front wall; this full‑force blow had enough power to cleave mountains and split rocks.

Today the pain has eased a bit; I've finished a chapter. Additionally, friends Recommendation one book, the name is quite interesting 《Insect Master Lu Xiaodao》.

Insects are the primary productive force!

Lu Xiaodao obtained an insect incubator that can let any organism evolve and revert to ancestral traits, expanding their talents.

Using electric earthworms to plow the fields is fast, gives good fertilizer, burns no oil, and is naturally pollution‑free.

Using top‑snails for transport makes loading easy, offers high stability, needs no fuel, and is convenient and efficient.

Airplanes imitate dragonflies; nuclear submarines imitate sharks.

Come on, come on, add ten times the speed, and your super‑fighter will be able to see the dragonfly's shadow.

Chase, chase, chase—increase the horsepower a hundredfold, and your ultimate nuclear submarine can catch up to a shark's tail.

Commanding endless insect troops, Lu Xiaodao proudly says, "Don't be unconvinced! Believe it or not, I'll haul Mount Fuji to the Pacific."/Book/(To be continued~^~)