Chapter 771: Only the Clear Wind

"True, wonderful!" Xi You chuckled, stepping back step by step.

Nü Zhao bore a mysterious smile, light as a ghost, retreating together with Xi You.

This is a good show.

Disciples from the Extreme East Divine Province, from the mighty Blaze Dynasty's Three Great Protector God Sects, have actually arrived on the scene.

Moreover, the newly arrived young Daoist expressed no stance, but regardless of Fan Kun or the three Bai Lu brothers, they all showed great interest in Wu Tie and the Wuguo he controls.

Before Wu Tie revealed his Grand Righteous Qi, Fan Kun had said that if Wu Tie did not surrender, he would be killed outright and replaced with a Martial King.

But after Wu Tie revealed his Grand Righteous Qi, Fan Kun's attitude toward him changed considerably.

Although not as fervent and greedy as the three Bai Lu brothers, Fan Kun's attitude toward Wu Tie also became much more passionate and fervent.

Wu Tie felt he was a slab of bloody pork belly, while Fan Kun, Bai Lu, and the others were like wild dogs that had smelled blood—each harboring ill intentions toward him.

"May I ask where you come from, Daoist? What brings you to my Wuguo?" With the mindset of "better to lose one sheep than the whole flock," Wu Tie clasped his hands and asked the youthful Daoist riding the plump ostrich.

"I am Qing Feng..." the youthful Daoist grinned at Wu Tie, sitting cross-legged on the mat, and gave him a respectful salute.

"My dao name is Qing Feng, but there is no fellow disciple named Ming Yue in the Qinglian Temple." Qing Feng lifted his head with a hint of regret and softly sighed: "Qing Feng and Ming Yue were originally the most traditional and famous pair of dao names in our Daoist tradition..."

"Just like the legendary 'Yuelai Inn' from ancient times, full of symbolic meaning, a pair of dao names with wholesome sprouts, ah."

"It's a pity that none of my fellow disciples would ever change their name to Ming Yue, even to death... So only Qing Feng remains in the Qinglian Temple, no Ming Yue... Ah, I am Qing Feng!"

Qing Feng chattered on incessantly; obviously, he is a motormouth.

He merely enjoys being talkative; his words are quite normal, unlike Bai Lu, who would directly employ divine abilities to scheme against those present when speaking.

Wu Tie silently employed secret arts, consecutively displaying seven or eight secret techniques and divine abilities, confirming that Qing Feng was merely complaining idly and that he himself had suffered no strange attack, whereupon he relaxed.

This Qing Feng is quite interesting; the impression he gives Wu Tie is utterly different from that of Fan Kun and the three Bai Lu brothers.

"Qing Feng Daoist, what brings you to Wuguo?" Wu Tie interrupted Qing Feng's chatter.

"Oh, this is Wuguo?" Qing Feng laughed, pulling out a string of prayer beads from somewhere and spinning them rapidly in his hand: "I merely follow the bald donkeys and pale faces; wherever they go, I go."

Spreading his hands, Qing Feng beamed extraordinarily brightly: "Who let my master tell me—'Qing Feng, you thick‑skinned dead donkeys, shameless hypocrites, they've sent people out… follow them around, take any advantage you can, grab any benefit; if there's no advantage or benefit, at least it's fun to disgust them'!"

Qing Feng's eyes narrowed to slits as he laughed: "My master says, since I idly loaf all day with no proper occupation, even the temple's guard dog Yellow is more promising than I… so it's better to let me out to annoy people—it counts as making use of waste!"

Wu Tie's mouth twitched as he cursed inwardly in fits and starts.

The faces of Fan Kun, Bai Lu, and the others grew extremely wan; they stared deeply at Qing Feng, and Fan Kun suddenly said: "Qing Feng, your Qinglian Temple has always dwelt aloof from the world—why have you been pestering us all along, and what do you really want?"

Qing Feng gazed earnestly at Fan Kun: "I'm here to take your advantage, seize your benefits, and incidentally disgust you—do you not understand human speech?"

Shaking his head, Qing Feng broke into another grin: "Oh, right, right—your true form is a dim‑witted fish, so of course you can't understand human speech."

Fan Kun's face darkened; he thrust out his right index finger, seemingly lightly, pointing at Qing Feng.

Heaven and earth became pure and clear.

The void within a radius of ten thousand li turned into a crystal‑clear glazed world.

As Fan Kun's fingertip extended, the heavens above lost their stars and moon; only a single golden finger, standing tall like a pillar that props up the sky, whistled down from the firmament and poked downward.

This finger was tens of thousands of zhang thick and of unknown length in zhang; its tip rubbed the air, scattering great sparks, exhaling purple qi and red clouds, accompanied by heavenly chanting, it slammed straight down onto the ground.

Though enormous, the finger's entire force converged upon Qing Feng alone.

The ground beside Qing Feng instantly vanished, revealing a pit about three zhang in diameter. The black, bottomless pit, under the terrifying pressure from the falling finger, utterly annihilated everything within it.

Qing Feng laughed and lightly shook his head at Fan Kun: "You remember eating but not being hit, you bald fool… you forgot, you used this move on me three hundred years ago..."

"Ah, why don't you lot remember? Never use the same trick on me again—it's useless!"

Qing Feng lifted his head and grinned.

With a "Hualala" crash, a golden dharma manifestation burst forth behind Qing Feng—three hundred sixty zhang tall, with eighteen heads and one hundred eight arms, wielding various golden vajra swords, clubs, bells, umbrellas and other Buddhist implements.

The golden dharma manifestation rose into the air and rammed head‑first into the descending giant finger.

With a tremendous boom, the void lit up; the massive golden finger was smashed to pieces by the golden dharma manifestation, shattering into countless fragments that drifted down.

Before the fragments even landed, they transformed into countless golden lotus blossoms the size of fists.

The drifting golden lotuses fell to the ground accompanied by wondrous celestial music; amid a "ding‑ding" explosive sound, the lotuses dissipated, leaving the ground turned to gold.

Wu Tie stamped his foot, and his complexion shifted slightly.

The land for tens of thousands of li around became a single massive gold ingot.

No falseness, no second chance—pure gold through and through, gleaming gold with a faint reddish hue, unmistakably the finest, highest‑purity red gold!

Wu Tie couldn't help but marvel: "Great Monk, your divine powers… you'll never have to worry about poverty in this lifetime."

Qing Feng burst into laughter: "Haha, even if the bald monks of Honglian Temple can't do this move, they enjoy endless offerings from countless believers—those foolish men and women would gladly donate even their foot wrappings; they'll never be poor either."

Fan Kun stared grimly at Qing Feng.

After a while, golden blood uncontrollably seeped from the cracks of Fan Kun's tightly shut lips.

Just one blow, and Fan Kun was mysteriously gravely wounded by Qing Feng.

Bai Lu on the side shouted in a deep voice: "Fan Kun, join forces… first drive away that hanging‑boot ghost, or else in this Wuguo, neither of us will get anything to eat."