Chapter 216

A flicker of surprise flashed in the old monk's eyes; evidently he had not expected Niu Dingtian to be able to voice his secret.

"A tattered secret manual—I didn't expect you to have seen it too." He whispered, and golden light burst all over his body, becoming even richer and more blazing.

The intertwined gold and white light shot out of the cave in an instant, rushed out of the rear mountain, causing the Five Breast Peaks to burst forth with blazing, dazzling light.

Time was passing.

The monks inside Shaolin Temple had already noticed the situation on the rear mountain.

There was nothing to be done; the light was simply too blazing, like a sun rising in a pitch‑black night as dark as ink.

The newly appointed abbot, Tianming Chan Master, rushed to the cliff edge of the rear courtyard at once, gazing toward a spot on the rear mountain, only feeling a stab of glare and unable to make out the details.

The remaining monks arrived one after another; those with weaker strength could not even look at the center of the light.

At a glance, their eyes felt a sharp sting.

"What happened?" the newly appointed head of the Arhat Hall, Wuxiang, exclaimed.

He, Abbot Tianming, and the Dharma Hall's head, Wuse, standing nearby, were all just past thirty; after the disappearance of Juézhēn and Juéxìng, the three became the new leadership collective of Shaolin Temple.

"Someone is fighting at the location of the Dharma Cave." Tianming narrowed his eyes, spoke in a low voice, his heart unable to calm.

He recalled the words his granduncle, the Grand Master Kuhui, had told him in childhood: the Dharma Cave houses a great demon, one must not approach it lightly! "The battle…"

Hearing Tianming's words, Wuxiang and Wuse turned pale with alarm, hastily raising their hands as a shield, squinting toward the opposite cliff, their hearts churning with huge waves.

The blazing light seemed to condense into substance, incomparably dazzling; wave after wave of powerful energy surged out from within, alternating cold and hot, rushing toward the surrounding peaks.

"How is the situation? It's too glaring—I can't see anything." Wuxiang hastily employed the Thousand‑Pound Drop to brace against the surging energy waves, shouting loudly.

Tianming stood firm on the cliff edge, his monastic robe fluttering loudly in the blast.

He narrowed his eyes at the dazzling spot several li away, shook his head, and said softly, "The light is too blazing; I can't see clearly either."

Actually, he was merely guessing; from the violent entanglement of two different forces, he sensed that someone was fighting in the direction of the Dharma Cave.

As the light grew ever more blazing, the distant heavens seemed to twist, and a creeping fear rose in Tianming's heart.

He suddenly shouted, "Quickly gather the temple's disciples and retreat swiftly down the mountain, lest the upheaval reach us!"

Wuse and Wuxiang dared not delay; they hurriedly led the monks behind them back into the temple to pack various scriptures and secret manuals.

"What happened, Elder Brother Wuse?"

The newly appointed guardian of the Sutra Pavilion, Juéyuǎn, had just braced against a sudden gust and secured the second‑floor windows when he saw his senior brother Wuse leading a few monks, faces flushed with haste, rushing into the Sutra Pavilion.

Although Juéyuǎn was of the same generation as Tianming, Wuse, Wuxiang, Juézhēn, and Juéxìng, his different lineage and his status as a monk‑scholar meant his standing in the temple was not high.

It was only two years ago, after Juézhēn and Juéxìng suddenly disappeared, that he, together with Wuse, Wuxiang, and Tianming, as youthful strength, secured the position of guarding the Sutra Pavilion.

Hearing Juéyuǎn's inquiry, the ill‑tempered Wuse had no time to explain, nor did he want to; he simply said, "By order of the abbot," and summoned the monks to quickly pack the second‑floor secret texts.

Juéyuǎn was not annoyed either; he deftly took a few large cloths from the cabinet, spread them on the floor, and began carefully packing the first‑floor scriptures.

As he placed the books onto an empty spot on the shelf, he couldn't help but sigh again.

The loss of the Sanskrit version of the Laṅkāvatāra Sutra has, since he took office, continually left him feeling a sense of regret.

Inside the Dharma Cave——

The old monk's body still radiated undiminished golden light, but his face had taken on a reddish hue; the violent auras each emitted were straining against each other.

He lifted his gaze to Niu Dingtian, as if victory were already in his grasp, and smiled: "Your skill is indeed not bad, but if you do not withdraw, you will eventually become my nourishment."

The two had been locked in silent stalemate until now, and he no longer had confidence in keeping Niu Dingtian.

The opponent wanted to kill him, which he deemed impossible, but if the opponent sought to escape the Dharma Cave, he could hardly stop him.

"You can try."

Niu Dingtian's face was icy cold; he fixed his stare on the old monk and said coldly, "Old ghost, how many years has it been since you last tasted the flavor of being struck by lightning?"

"Huh?" the old monk's eyes narrowed.

Then, as if something had occurred to him, his expression shifted slightly and he warned, "You have only just entered the realm of Heaven‑Human; you can still linger in this world a while, but if you draw down the heavenly tribulation that drives away intruders, neither of us will escape!"

"I'm just hard‑boned; I can withstand the strike!" Niu Dingtian snorted coldly.

The next moment, he gathered all his strength into his right arm; before the old monk's astonished eyes, he turned his palm into a fist, raised a dazzling icy blade, and struck the top of the Dharma Cave with an ultimate punch.

"Boom!"

"Rumble—"

Amidst the rumbling, the earth shook and the mountains trembled, and silver light burst forth.

Thread after thread of blazing, dazzling silver light erupted like a fierce sun descending upon the world, blasting upward and directly cracking the half‑mountain of the Five Breast Peaks.

"The Dharma Cave is destroyed!"

"We can no longer conceal the heavenly secrets!"

"Let go of hands and feet and fight!"

Several loud shouts, like thunderclaps, boomed out from the fractured mountain mass, echoing throughout Mount Shaoshi.

"You're really courting death!!!"

The voice of extreme fury followed close behind.

Before the words had faded, the intertwined gold‑and‑white blazing light shot out of the mountain body in an instant.

Thereafter it resembled a rapidly rising sun, wrapped in violent surges of cold‑hot air, speeding through the mountain range; wherever it passed, the earth quaked, the mountains trembled, and the rock burst apart.

"There really is someone fighting!"

Tianming stood on the cliff edge; a moment's inattention and he was blown away by the violent momentum.

His face turned to horror as he watched that blazing light speeding between the peaks.

"Is this a person… or an immortal buddha? The Dharma Cave is destroyed, yet it actually shattered the Five Breast Peaks!"

Wuse and Wuxiang, who had already led the monks to retreat to the mountain gate, together with the multitude of Shaolin disciples, gazed upon the horrifying sight in the distance, all feeling shock and dread.

The tremendous commotion of the two combatants, together with that blazing light, startled not only the whole of Mount Shaoshi but also Dengfeng City at its base.

In a cave on Mount Zhongnan, Wang Chongyang, who had originally been sitting with eyes closed tightly, legs crossed in meditation, suddenly opened his eyes and shot out of the cavern at great speed.

After rushing to the highest point of the mountain summit, his expression grew solemn, and he fixed his gaze toward the exact east.

"Could it be the direction of Shaoshi Mountain?"

Wang Chongyang silently felt the two faintly transmitted colliding auras that made his heart palpitate, and his expression grew even more solemn.

As an innate peak expert like him, he is naturally extremely attuned to movement and stillness; furthermore, even this collision still makes him feel palpitations.

"Two auras—why are there two? Could someone have already broken through that realm?" Wang Chongyang muttered to himself.

Feeling that aura intensify his palpitations, he hesitated slightly, his form instantly turning into a blur as he shot toward that direction. In Lin'an City, the palace, unlike the continuous autumn rains of Xiangyang, was now under a blazing sun. The sunlight on the colorless glazed tiles shone with flowing brilliance, magnificently splendid.

Inside the hall, the Kui Hua Ancestor wore a fiery red robe, leaning sideways on the bed; her stunning posture and face were even more alluring than two years prior.

The only flaw was that his right sleeve was empty, making him a one-armed beauty.

Glancing at Li Gonggong kneeling beneath the bed, the Kui Hua Ancestor said coldly, "Since your martial arts have been abolished, why have you come back?"

Li Gonggong panicked, "Ancestor, please hear me; I, too, took advantage of the chaos caused by the Divine Sect to try to flee, not wanting to be..."

"Whoosh!"

"Bang!"

Before he finished speaking, the embroidery needle pinched between the Kui Hua Ancestor's left fingertips shot out with a whoosh, and the domineering force it carried directly blasted Li Gonggong's withered body out of the hall doors, shattering it to pieces.

"Ancestor, I do not keep idle people."

The Kui Hua Ancestor lightly raised her hand, smoothed the black hair at her chest, and said lightly.

At that moment, a chaotic footsteps sounded outside the hall; a middle-aged man in a dragon robe, escorted by a group of eunuchs, arrived at the hall's doors.

He was the current Emperor of the Great Song, Zhao Kuo.

Seeing the gruesome sight at the hall's doors, Zhao Kuo waved his hand, dismissed the attending eunuchs, covered his nose and mouth, and walked along the wall into the hall.

"Ancestor."

Zhao Kuo slightly bowed his body in a salute.

"What else is the matter?"

The Kui Hua Ancestor flirtatiously played with the hair in her hand, asking in a light tone.

Zhao Kuo hesitated, then pondered and said, "These days, on the Xiangyang front, the Divine Sect's troops are strong and well-mounted, and their navy on Tai Lake already numbers nearly fifty thousand; I truly find it hard to rest or eat."

"I have already ascertained that Niu Dingtian has not appeared for two years, and just now a pigeon-delivered letter reported that he did not show up during the recent disturbance at Nine Palaces Mountain; I wish to ask the Ancestor to act once more, so we can strike first."

"Strike first?" The Kui Hua Ancestor's face instantly turned cold.

"Ancestor, I have told you before that innate experts must not arbitrarily interfere in worldly affairs. Last time I acted for you, the Ancestor lost an arm to heavenly tribulation, and you still had to compensate a commandant."

"This time, what are you preparing to compensate? A princely title? A princess? I hear that lad likes married women, or will you send your palace's empress and consorts to keep him company in bed?"

After hearing this blunt reprimand, Zhao Kuo's face flushed alternating shades of green and white.

Although he is after all an emperor, only before this old monster would he be scolded like a grandson.

But constrained by the other's martial power and his reliance on this old fiend, he could only remain silent.

Seeing this lad's look of being angry but unable to speak, the Kui Hua Ancestor felt a surge of satisfaction, thinking to herself, "Although I am a eunuch, I am also the one who has reprimanded several generations of your Zhao emperors."

Just as he was about to speak to drive him away, he suddenly felt a sense, and fixed his gaze toward the northwest.

"Such a terrifying collision—could that old fiend have emerged?" the Kui Hua Ancestor muttered to herself.

"Ancestor, what has happened?" Zhao Kuo stepped forward and asked softly, feeling curious as to who could make this old monster so wary.

The Kui Hua Ancestor's face showed extreme turmoil.

"Ancestor, I will go out for a while; please temporarily avoid provoking the surname Niu!"

Finally, he left a warning, and his fiery red silhouette instantly vanished within the hall.

Mongolia, inside the golden tent.

The guests filled the seats, the dancers graceful; this was the wedding feast held by Temujin for Yang Kang and Huazheng.

"Master Ouyang, please!"

"Master Murong, please!"

Temujin smiled, lifted the silver bowl on the table, and offered a distant toast to Ouyang Feng and Murong An on the left, then drained it in one gulp.

"Old man congratulates the Great Khan on obtaining a fine son-in-law!" Ouyang Feng glanced smirkingly at Yang Kang opposite, raised his bowl toward Temujin in congratulations.

Murong An's eyes flickered slightly; he also raised his silver bowl in return, smiling, "Prince Consort, though young, your martial prowess surpasses even Ouyang's son; the Great Khan has obtained a precious steed, truly a cause for joy and celebration."

Ouyang Ke, who had been lowering his head to drink, heard this; his hand holding the bowl paused slightly, and a flash of embarrassment crossed his face.

This old thing compares his thirty years to someone not yet eighteen—isn't this openly humiliating him?

The key is that he cannot refute it, and losing face is not on the same level; he can only lodge this resentment against Yang Kang opposite.

Yang Kang wore a blue Mongolian robe, his handsome features complementing the pink robe of Huazheng beside him, making the occasion especially festive.

When he sensed Ouyang Ke's faintly hostile gaze, although he wore a faint smile on his face, his heart kept sneering.

He hated the old man to the core, and he must quickly find a chance to get rid of this guy!

Upon hearing the praise from Ouyang Feng and Murong An, Temujin could not help but burst into loud laughter, declaring, "Only by gaining such eminent persons as Master Ouyang and Master Murong can the Khan truly have cause for joy and celebration!"

Afterwards, looking at Yang Kang he smiled and said, "Kang'er, Huazheng, you two still have not offered a bowl to the two masters."

"Yes, Great Khan!" Yang Kang, following Mongol etiquette, rose and bowed his body.

"Ah, why are you still calling him Great Khan?"

Temujin's face showed a hint of displeasure.

"Yes, Father Khan!"

Yang Kang corrected his address at once, then seeing Huazheng beside him sitting with a bland expression, unmoving, he directly took her small hand, scratched his palm, and pulled her up.

"Besides, this Mongolian maiden's hand is quite soft." Seeing Huazheng's cheeks blush slightly, Yang Kang felt a surge of pride; his sworn brother's woman had finally fallen into his hands!

Just as the two raised their silver bowls toward Ouyang Feng and Murong An, the black-robed man seated beside Temujin suddenly sprang to his feet.

"What's wrong, Master Meng?" Temujin startled, feigning calm as he asked.

Seeing this situation, everyone in the golden tent turned their gazes toward it.

"I need to go out for a trip." Mr. Meng looked toward the southwest, his expression extremely solemn.

"This..."

Tiemuzhen was somewhat displeased.

If you go, the two below could kill me as easily as taking something from a bag.

"They wouldn't dare!"

Mr. Meng let out a cold snort, the shock making Ouyang Feng and Murong An's ears buzz.

The two were so shocked they hadn't even reacted when his figure instantly vanished inside the golden tent. (End of chapter)