Chapter 406: I'm Still Here!

Could it be that the reason the Heaven-Hating God Monarch destroyed the Buddhist sect back then was because there existed such an overbearing and mysterious martial art within the Buddhist sect?

This aroused the Heaven-Hating God Monarch's covetousness and apprehension?

But even so, wouldn't simply seizing this martial art settle the matter? Such a martial art could not possibly be learned by everyone.

The Heaven-Hating God Monarch's hatred toward the Buddhist sect seems not to be a dispute over interests, but rather hatred born from the heart.

Irreconcilable enmity.

Like being robbed of one's "poor monk" by a bald donkey.

Regardless of the grudges and entanglements between the Heaven-Hating God Monarch and the Buddhist sect, and whatever hidden truths there may be.

The crowd gazed at this white-haired monk, suddenly feeling——the martial world is about to change again.

No longer paying attention to the three lying on the ground, awed to the extreme, Tang Luo greeted Ao Yulie and the others: "Let's go, to the Black Heaven Divine Palace."

Nai Taisheng walked over, lifted the unconscious Zhu Qiankang onto his shoulder and carried him away, also taking his sword—this sword was not equipment.

But when used, it would surely be far superior to their current weapons.

The people of White Feather Sword Manor did not stop them, nor could they stop them.

A group arrived at the Sword Manor's gate, had not yet truly stepped outside, when a group of people with dragon-like strides and tiger-like steps walked toward them head-on.

The leader wore a full set of white feathered robes, his hair meticulously groomed, with a beard, handsome mustache and beard, elegant yet revealing a hint of dignity.

It was none other than the master of White Feather Sword Manor, Zhou Yu.

At this moment his expression was slightly grim, seeing Tang Luo and the others emerge, along with some behind them who appeared formidable, he blocked their path of departure.

"Make way." Ao Yulie took the lead, staring at Zhou Yu.

What an old fellow, still dressed in white and handsome at his age.

"Master! Master!"

Someone immediately ran out, detoured around Tang Luo and the others, approached Zhou Yu's side, whispered in his ear, and quickly explained everything.

Zhou Yu's expression remained unchanged, his eyes carefully scrutinizing Tang Luo and the others.

He lingered longest on Tang Luo and the unconscious Zhu Qian.

"So that's how it is." After hearing the steward's words, Zhou Yu exhaled lightly, clasped his hands toward Tang Luo, and said, "So it is the young hero Xuanzang. My sect's misfortune—actually producing such a scoundrel—is the fault of White Feather Sword Manor."

He spoke the apology, very sincere.

"No matter, Master Zhou, please step aside; the poor monk still needs to go to the Black Heaven Demon Palace." Tang Luo said.

"Um..." Zhou Yu hesitated, "May I boldly ask one question: Is the young hero Xuanzang truly from the Buddhist sect, and is he a monk?"

"Yes." Tang Luo openly admitted, "The poor monk comes from the Thunder Sound Temple on Ling Mountain, Dharma name Xuanzang."

"So it is Master Xuanzang." Zhou Yu smiled, "Today's incident, White Feather Sword Manor has offended greatly, and the Black Heaven Demon Palace is no trivial matter. If possible, Master, could you and your party rest briefly at my Sword Manor, discuss things at length, so we may make amends and also express gratitude."

Thunder Sound Temple? Never heard of it.

This is also normal—after the Heaven-Hating God Monarch destroyed Buddhism, only one or two Buddhist sects managed to preserve their names.

"No need, we're rather busy, in a hurry." Tang Luo said, "Master Zhou's kindness, I appreciate it."

He spoke the truth—only three months have passed in this mission world.

Who has the leisure to idle about?

"This..." Zhou Yu said, "Frankly speaking, Master, your going to the Black Heaven Demon Palace is not merely your personal affair; it concerns countless martial world brethren. Moreover, Master, perhaps you do not understand—your identity—"

Knowing whose big talk Qin Xu'ao learned from.

"We understand very well." Ao Yulie interrupted, "You've blocked us, but we are truly busy."

Zhou Yu's face darkened abruptly; he had lowered his posture greatly, yet these fellows still showed no appreciation?

"What, want to fight?" Ao Yulie laughed.

Having just succeeded in pretending to be cool, he felt very pleased.

Pretend to be cool for a moment, feel good for a moment; keep pretending, keep feeling good.

Now Ao Yulie is feeling swollen with pride.

"Master Xuanzang has misunderstood." Zhou Yu shook his head, "Since you, Master, are determined to go your own way, I cannot dissuade you, so I can only wish you a smooth journey."

This sounds more like a curse.

Zhou Yu stepped aside, those behind him followed suit, but their gazes toward Tang Luo and the others were very unfriendly.

Unlike Zhou Yu, who could maintain surface decorum.

The crowd paid no heed, meeting the gazes as they departed.

They must first return to the tavern to retrieve their horses, then leave the city and head for the Black Heaven Divine Palace.

Seeing Tang Luo and the others off, someone approached Zhou Yu's side, wanting to say something, but Zhou Yu raised his hand to stop them.

Soon, they also returned to the Sword Manor, after a meaningless yet necessary exchange of pleasantries, the surrounding martial world people basically dispersed.

The White Feather Sword Manor's gate closed, shutting out the gaze of those unwilling to leave.

One could no longer see the corpses and blood on the training ground.

The three newly rising stars that had been slowly ascending suddenly fell—Qin Xu'ao and the two others were locked into the "Reflection Spring"—actually a water dungeon, left to fend for themselves.

Before that, Zhou Yu had questioned the three about Tang Luo's detailed circumstances.

Aside from what Zhou Yu already knew, they learned nothing more.

It was not that the three were uncooperative; on the contrary, they were very cooperative, bursting with fervent praise for Tang Luo from the heart.

They praised him to the heavens and earth, unparalleled.

Excessively exaggerated, completely without reference value.

As said by a certain Blue-surnamed man, imprisoned for pretending to be cool: "Admiration is the emotion farthest from understanding."

Furthermore, Qin Xu'ao and the three originally knew nothing about Tang Luo—how could they provide any information they possessed?

This Dharma name Xuanzang, who claims to come from the Thunder Sound Temple on Ling Mountain, this white-haired monk and his entourage, seem to have jumped out from a crack in the stone.

There had been no word of it whatsoever before.

Spirit Mountain and the Great Thunder Sound Temple were also places never heard of before.

Origin unknown, strength unknown, purpose unknown.

It was simply as if they were shrouded in mist.

The only certainty was that Xuanzang mastered a domineering and bizarre martial art; with a single palm strike, he could make Qin Xuao and the other two "suddenly repent and awaken," as if they had become different people entirely.

The method of "conversion" was brilliant beyond measure.

Not like a Buddhist disciple at all, more like a demonic heretic.

"Villa Master, aren't we giving chase? The whip is definitely in this group's hands." Beside Zhou Yu, an elderly man of considerable age but full of vigor asked.

Zhou Yu pondered for a moment, then stood and said, "Bring the men, let's go."

"Yes!" The elder was delighted. "I'll gather the men to pursue at once."

"Pursue?" Zhou Yu laughed. "We're not pursuing. We're going to the Black Heaven Demon Palace."

The elder froze, then immediately flattered him: "Villa Master is wise!"

"Enough talk, hurry up and go." Zhou Yu said.

Their sudden departure yesterday was naturally because they had urgent business.

They had received word and were searching for one of the Nine Great Holy Weapons, the "Shepherd's Whip," which had been missing for a long time.

For some reason, this whip had fallen into the hands of a few nameless nobodies.

Now the news had not yet truly leaked; if they could seize the Shepherd's Whip before the news exploded, the White Feather Sword Villa would be transformed from then on.

After much inquiry, Zhou Yu and the others finally learned the whip had ultimately fallen into the hands of a white-haired man — the original holders had all been killed.

And that white-haired man and his companions had already left, not concealing their tracks.

Zhou Yu's group continued the chase, but chased back to the vicinity of White Feather Sword Villa, then heard news of Black Heaven Divine Palace people breaking into the villa, and hurried back.

That was how the scene of them meeting Tang Luo came about.

Zhou Yu earnestly invited Tang Luo's group to stay at White Feather Sword Villa, naturally not for the righteous reasons he spoke of.

His purpose was the "Shepherd's Whip" in their hands.

Unfortunately the other party was very vigilant and simply wouldn't take the bait.

They were even anxious to go find trouble with Black Heaven Divine Palace.

How could Zhou Yu miss such a golden opportunity where the snipe and clam fight and the fisherman profits?

Before long, the White Feather Sword Villa's elites turned out in full force, and with night falling, departed.

"My father is—"

"You actually dare treat me like this—"

"I am—"

"Zhu Qian refuses to accept this! If you have the guts, let's fight fair and square one more time."

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!"

In the night, Zhu Qian's defiance gradually turned into submission.

"Is it this way?" Nan Taisheng asked, carrying Zhu Qian.

"Yes." Zhu Qian raised his head, reluctantly glanced once, then lowered it again.

In truth his injuries were truly severe; his vitality just now was because he was holding on with a single breath, but now he could hold on no longer and had entered a dying state.

However, for a martial arts master, such injuries are not fatal.

"Dying" for a month or two, and he would recover, bouncing around lively again.

Using internal energy to heal injuries is a basic operation for jianghu martial artists.

During the healing process, Zhu Qian didn't waste words either, afraid the other party would interrupt his healing.

If deliberately interrupted at that time, causing a deviation, injury atop injury, the situation would become dire.

As Tang Luo's group approached Black Heaven Divine Palace without any concealment.

Zhu Qian, who had been guiding the way, finally couldn't hold back: "You intend to just walk right up to their door?"

"Why not?" On the mountain path, Ao Yulie had naturally resumed human form, turning to look at Zhu Qian and ask.

Zhu Qian lowered his head and said nothing more.

These people either have such high skill they're fearless, completely not putting Black Heaven Divine Palace in their eyes.

Or they're a bunch of fools.

Judging by their strength, it's the former.

But the final result will make them the latter.

These people simply don't know what hidden trump cards Black Heaven Divine Palace has; if not for trump cards, how would Black Heaven Divine Palace dare expand so aggressively?

"You're a bit agitated."

Suddenly, Zhu Qian heard a voice.

He instinctively looked over; that white-haired monk was looking at him, tone calm and certain.

"What?" Zhu Qian played dumb. "What are you talking about?"

"Almost there?" Tang Luo didn't press further. "Black Heaven Divine Palace."

"Go around, the shady side is it." Zhu Qian said, composing himself, making his breathing as steady as possible.

Without a doubt, this white-haired monk is a master.

Monk... an identity, an appellation that has already vanished without a trace in the jianghu.

Borne openly and undisguised by this person.

True or false, it proves only one thing: he does not fear the Hate Heaven Gate!

Naturally, he would not fear the Black Heaven Divine Palace, which was a notch weaker than the Hate Heaven Gate.

However, in the end, he paid the price for his own arrogance.

Because the Black Heaven Divine Palace controlled a Holy Weapon!

They advanced for a while longer.

Rustle, rustle — slightly muffled, yet not muffled well enough; footsteps audible from all directions reached their ears.

"Heh, they're here," Ao Yulie laughed.

"Whoosh—"

The bowstring vibrated, a dull sound of tearing air rang out, and black feathered arrows burst from the darkness, shooting straight at the crowd.

"Do you want to die! I'm still here!"

Zhu Qian, who had been sneering inwardly just a second ago, instantly erupted in curses.