Chapter 300

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Protagonist:

Chen Yi

Hearing "South Gate," Qingjing's face darkened further, and he couldn't help but ask: "How did you know it was South?"

"I've known for a long time."

"Pah, you knew and still came to catch me."

Chen Yi laughed and said: "Pretty smart, you're the type like Zhang Fei — coarse on the outside, careful within?"

"Hmph."

"Zhang Fei had his head cut off and hung up." Cao Zhengsen said grimly. His status among the martial arts hall students was second only to Luoxiong; he often carried out corporal punishment, and not only had his tone become bailiff-like, but he also naturally carried a threatening air.

Qingjing stiffened his neck to show bravery, but his mouth uttered not a word, lest he provoke the other party.

Chen Yi chuckled darkly a couple of times, and tossed the little monk, black as charcoal, into the cargo bed behind the pickup truck.

Qingjing sat cross-legged resolutely, letting the cold wind blow, steadfast like Li Kui on his way to the execution ground.

It didn't take a few minutes before word came from inside the martial arts hall: "Old Monk Ru Ding is hiding in the teahouse at the South Gate entrance."

"There are still teahouses in this era?" Chen Yi asked Jin Douna in the passenger seat.

Jin Douna feigned bewilderment and asked: "The one Lao She wrote about?"

Chen Yi didn't know whether to laugh or cry: "You know Lao She, but don't know teahouses?"

The Korean beauty teased with a laugh: "I don't live in Guangzhou."

Chen Yi only then realized he'd been tricked by her; he ruthlessly groped her slender waist and said: "Guangzhou's sugar water is really good..."

The teahouse wasn't actually a real teahouse, but a mahjong parlor operating under the name of a teahouse. The little boss knew the chief of Jiangbei Police Station, so he rented a shopfront in a remote corner and started a business collecting money on the spot.

However, Jiangbei people have always been stingy to the extreme; during holidays when playing mahjong, one yuan counted as a big stake. Later the boss just charged by the table, regardless of wins or losses on the tiles.

Monk Ru Ding took off his kasaya, changed into casual wear; his shaved head looked like he'd just come out from behind four walls, attracting quite a bit of attention.

He alone occupied the window-side table but didn't play mahjong; he only ordered tea to drink, then concentrated fully on observing the outside of the martial arts hall.

Separated by a T-junction, those with good hearing could hear the training shouts; Ru Ding sat for a whole morning, waved to summon the boss, and asked: "How do they train inside the martial arts hall? Is it also running?"

"The ones running are new recruits." The boss chuckled twice and said: "Do you want to find a few people to play together?"

"Unnecessary."

"Alright then, you sit." The boss didn't like provoking bald heads, but wasn't afraid either.

The monk still didn't know he was borrowing his cousin's glory; he hurriedly waved: "Boss, boss, still have something to ask you."

"Hey, look, I've really got a bit of business on my hands." The boss's eyeballs rolled, wearing a look of not getting up without profit.

Ru Ding glanced at him, face benevolent, pulled out a hundred-yuan RMB note, placed it on the table, and smiled: "Just two questions — what background does the martial arts hall have?"

The boss smoothly pocketed the money, patted his pocket and laughed: "Look at what you're saying; ask as much as you want — running a shop means being questioned. This martial arts hall was opened by the Chen Family Second Young Master. The Chen Family Eldest Young Master went to join the army; the Second Young Master was idle at home, so he opened a martial arts hall. They say the treatment is unbelievably good; later they'll probably set up a bodyguard company."

"Boss He, don't fool outsiders — what bodyguard company? I'd say a security company is more like it. They're all outside guarding gates and courtyards."

"Gate-guarding courtyard-guarding are called workers, you understand or not? Thirty thousand..." This person slapped his mahjong tiles face-down on the table to show he was ready to win, lit a cigarette for himself, and put on an insider air: "My eldest nephew is in the martial arts hall; they have ranks — can a security company earn over ten thousand yuan a month? Dream on. That's called mercenaries; they have to fight wars overseas."

"Still go abroad to fight wars? Where's there a war now?"

"Iraq and such, Afghanistan?"

"Heard Americans' money is easy to earn."

The mahjong customers chatted among themselves; Ru Ding asked again: "What's the situation with the Chen Family Second Young Master? Tell me about it."

"He's formidable, you'd better be careful." The boss looked Ru Ding up and down, smiled, and turned to leave.

Ru Ding's speed was faster than his dodge; he grabbed him in one hand, fished out all 1,200 yuan from his pockets, and smiled: "Boss, don't rush — tell me and let me listen."

This sum was his income for a whole week; so the boss sat down and said: "You want to know, it's simple — in the past, Jiangbei didn't have a martial arts hall."

"Everything has a founding time; what year was the martial arts hall built?"

"Just over half a year ago." The boss said, lowering his voice: "The area you see now used to be slated for demolition. Japan's Mitsubishi Group, heard of it? They partnered with Mingde Group to take all this land. Later it was Second Young Master Chen who stepped forward, built this martial arts hall, established the Inspection Team, and drove Mitsubishi's people away."

"That formidable?"

"Far more formidable. My brother told me the martial arts hall has experts gathered; they even send people to the Public Security Bureau to do training. To put it plainly, if it weren't for Chen Family Martial Arts Hall, my teahouse couldn't stay open — where would Jiangbei people get money? It's all supported by the martial arts hall."

"The martial arts hall is wealthy?"

The mahjong customer next to them laughed: "Not just wealthy — it's dripping with oil. Ask anyone in the teahouse: before the martial arts hall, who could afford mahjong? Later, when someone in the family worked at the martial arts hall, that's when they had money to spend — or else they did business with the martial arts hall..."

Ru Ding missed no information and asked again: "You also do martial arts hall business?"

"We do neighborhood business; neighbors get rich, we don't starve either."

"Prosperous market." Monk Ru Ding spoke a bookish phrase, then asked the boss again: "Any other fresh news about the Chen Family Second Young Master?"

The boss smiled without speaking.

Monk Ru Ding had no choice; he fished a gold lock from his pocket and said reluctantly: "Consecrated — you examine it carefully."

The boss took it, bit down on it in one go, then examined the tooth marks closely; feeling it seemed genuine, he satisfactorily pocketed it. Only in the monk's eyes did the Buddha-light flowing around the gold lock also vanish without a trace.

Ru Ding's expression remained calm as he thought: Fool wasted a week of my sutra lectures. Common petty people truly have no blessings. Mustn't curse, mustn't curse... little scum made me break the precept against anger... mustn't curse, mustn't curse.

Though his heart surged, Ru Ding forever looked as if he'd had too much botox — calm; his bare upper arms exposed, he held up his teacup toward the boss.

"Earlier, the Chen Family Young Master was even more formidable — especially rich. Heard once kidnappers or something in Jiangning, he proposed several hundred million at once..." The boss rambled on, and with good service ethic even poured tea for Monk Ru Ding.

"Not needed." Ru Ding suddenly pressed down the boss's hand.

"What's wrong?"

"They're here." Ru Ding said, standing up and straightening his casual clothes.

Several Inspection Team members carrying short staffs walked up to the teahouse's second floor, killing intent surging, shouting: "Unrelated personnel, all leave."

Everyone in Jiangbei knew the uniform of the Wuguan Inspection Team; the mahjong players didn't even care about winning their hand anymore, turning around and leaving.

Ru Ding seemed like a wandering pugilist, standing there calmly, shouting: "I am Ru Ding, abbot of Baima Temple. How dare you lot."

The Inspection Team Member shouted back: "Scram downstairs."

Ru Ding laughed furiously: "How do we go downstairs? You've blocked the road."

"The window." Xie Wuyang waved his short stick and came up from the corridor; behind him was another archer, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow, aiming at Ru Ding.

A distance of over ten meters, a two-meter-long bow was no joke; Ru Ding looked around in all directions, decided to believe the other side was serious, and then jumped down from the second-floor teahouse.

Chen Yi caught him downstairs, smiling: "Who are you?"

"I am Master Ru Ding; if you don't like that, you can call me Ru Ding Monk."

"Sounds interesting. What are you looking for Yin Senyong for?"

"I don't understand."

"Let's go in and have a look." Chen Yi spoke while observing Ru Ding, hoping to find a trace of battle qi or magic on him.

Seeing they were about to take him to the Wuguan, Ru Ding Monk hesitated, twisted twice, and said calmly: "I am a National People's Congress Deputy; if you want to arrest me..."

"Just asking you to go in." Chen Yi waved his hand, and Xie Wuyang took over.

He had long had Chen Yi's instructions, gripping the monk's arm tightly, once making him feel pain.

However, although the sturdy Ru Ding made movements of resistance, his strength was not as great as Xie Wuyang's.

Xie Wuyang was Level 6 Body Technique... Chen Yi clearly remembered that when the black-faced monk punched him, Ru Ding had blocked his fist with his hand.

"Where did your strength go?"

"Just a monk; where would there be any strength." Ru Ding looked as if resigned to being slaughtered.

Only after entering the Wuguan backyard and seeing Yin Senyong did Chen Yi signal Xie Wuyang to release him, asking: "Do you remember anything now? What do you want to find Yin Senyong for?"

"Mm..."

"Everyone else, go out." Chen Yi waved his hand, then turned to Yin Senyong and asked: "Do you know this monk?"

Yin Senyong racked his brains for half a day, doubtfully saying: "Go remove hair faith?"

Ru Ding's face turned green, thinking viciously: I'm the one who removes hair from pigs, anger precept, anger precept... laugh, laugh.

Chen Yi saw a twisted smiling face.

After asking two more questions destined to have no answers, Chen Yi judged others by himself and suddenly said: "You are looking for battle qi, aren't you? Yin Senyong!"

As a Knight, Yin Senyong was relatively sensitive to the "lord's" command; he immediately surged battle qi throughout his body, emitting a bright yellow light, like a streetlamp with insufficient voltage.

"How is it?" Chen Yi turned around, only to see Ru Ding Monk in tears, as if he had just eaten his fill of fragrant dog meat and had the abbot who presided over two beggar's chickens confiscated.

"Magic power... so much magic power." Ru Ding trembled as he walked up to Yin Senyong, stroking him carefully, as if seeing his lover's wolfhound.

"What is magic power?" Chen Yi asked urgently.

"This is magic power."

"How did you obtain your magic power?" Chen Yi held the business card in his hand.

Ru Ding said softly: "Magic power... is what laypeople call Opening Light."

"Is there really Opening Light?"

Ru Ding looked helplessly at Yin Senyong and said: "He's as if he was Opening Lighted in the womb."

Chen Yi's mouth corner twitched, not feeling it proper to laugh outright. But the worry he had raised was also calmly put back into his stomach; the monks' method of obtaining battle qi was rather strange, but if they couldn't even reach Yin Senyong's level, it wasn't worth mentioning.

Yin Senyong was eating konjac and asked at this moment: "The Opening Light you speak of, what is it?"

"Chanting scriptures and worshipping the Buddha will cause Buddha's Supreme Glory to fall upon objects, called Opening Light."

"Opening Light is obtaining battle qi? You have no battle qi on you."

Ru Ding said sternly: "There are many frauds in the world; who would know that one must devoutly worship the Buddha to obtain Buddha's Glory."

"Faith?"

"Yes."

Chen Yi turned to ask Yin Senyong: "Is it somewhat like Divine Art?"

Yin Senyong's face immediately turned solemn: "Skipping Combat Skill Level directly? There are actually such divine temples?"

... (Unfinished, if you want to know what happens next, please log in to www. qidian. com, more chapters, support author, support genuine reading!)