met free Chapter 120 Bald Monk? It's almost time!
Chapter 120 Bald Monk? It's almost time!
Chapter 120 Bald Monk? It's almost time!
Qiu Chuji knew that Bianjing was in chaos and that various masters might take advantage of the situation to cause trouble. Therefore, he did not rashly disperse his disciples to different places, but instead took the lead to quell the troubles in the southern part of the city.
Beside him followed a Taoist priest who was neither male nor female, with long eyebrows and handsome eyes, and a refined appearance. He walked steadily, with a deep thought in his eyes.
Qiu Chuji noticed this and his expression turned serious. "Zhiping, have you thought of something?"
This person was Yin Zhiping, his most valued disciple. He was treated much better than Yang Kang. Fortunately, this disciple was also quite promising and was highly regarded by his fellow disciples, which pleased him greatly.
Yin Zhiping said, "Master, I was just wondering why the man I saw during the day wasn't in the courtyard. He's not Li Mochou's—"
"It may or may not be," Qiu Chuji interrupted his disciple, a deep glint in his eyes, before pointing to the indistinct, majestic buildings in the eastern part of the city and saying, "But he should be over there now."
"Dongcheng?" Yin Zhiping was shocked. After a few breaths, he understood the meaning behind Qiu Chuji's words and gasped, "He is Wei Yanwang!"
"Indeed, he was able to tell at a glance that I was seriously injured during the day. Such eyesight is not something that ordinary masters can do. It shows that he has profound skills and is so young. What merit does the martial arts world have to produce so many young talents at once?"
So I guessed that he was Wei Wu, the King of Hell. So when I was meditating and adjusting my breathing, I was also distracted by what was happening in Li Mochou's courtyard. But I was warned by a burst of true energy, which almost aggravated my injuries.
At that moment, I was certain that he was Wei Yanwang!
Qiu Chuji's complexion was ruddy, but the ruddy color was extremely abnormal. It was not the radiant complexion of an ordinary person. On the contrary, it looked more like the backlash caused by forcibly activating his true energy after being seriously injured to a certain extent.
But his steps remained steady. He raised his hand and slapped the scabbard on his back. The longsword flew out of its sheath with a "whoosh," like a white rainbow streaking across the night sky, and landed in Qiu Chuji's hand. "Don't worry about him. Just focus on saving people in the southern city. Don't do anything unjust, but don't ignore injustice either!"
"yes!"
Yin Zhiping and the other Quanzhen disciples immediately clasped their fists in response, drew their swords, and followed their master to the south city to rescue the people.
Wei Wu wasn't a clairvoyant, so he couldn't see the Quanzhen disciples in the south city, but he could clearly see the Mongolian masters in the east city, as well as a group of about thirteen Tibetan monks in red robes who came out of the palace, and Buddhist masters from various noble families in the city. In less than a quarter of an hour, they all arrived at the Left Prime Minister's residence.
Wei Wu's figure was like a ghost, leaving behind afterimages in mid-air until he landed on the gate of the Left Prime Minister's residence, where the afterimages slowly dissipated.
Such a scene naturally frightened some people who were not skilled enough, and caused those who wanted to watch the spectacle to turn away and leave, not wanting to get involved at all.
Alright, this is a characteristic of the Jin-style martial arts world. If this were placed in the world of Little Li Flying Dagger, it would definitely attract a group of bloodthirsty viewers.
Cao Cao, looking down from his high vantage point, remarked, "The Mongols, the Tibetan monks, and you bunch of bald monks—you've certainly given me quite a surprise."
There's nothing special about sharpshooters and wrestlers among the Mongols. They don't know internal energy cultivation, and their skills are only enough to take down four or five ordinary people.
However, there are some skilled ones among them. One of the Semu people dressed as a merchant has a decent whip technique, which he can teach to Hua Baifeng when he gets back.
The Indians who wrapped their heads in cloth practiced superior yoga techniques, and their bones were extremely soft and yin, which greatly helped Cao Cao's physical training techniques.
The group of experts, dressed as Han Chinese but clearly raised in the north, possessed a fierce and valiant air. Their internal skills might not have been particularly advanced, but each had their own unique abilities, and they had made some progress.
The old Tibetan monk didn't know many martial arts, but he was skilled in them—he had a flaming saber and a set of the eighth level of the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, so his strength was quite respectable.
But these bald monks—
Wei Wu's sharp gaze fell on the pile of bald heads like a knife, and the corners of his mouth curled into a cold, scimitar-like arc. "The bald monks of Shaolin Temple have done a good job changing careers. No wonder they're no longer wandering the martial arts world. It turns out they've all moved into the homes of the powerful and wealthy."
Without exception, all the martial arts skills collected by Wei Wu from these bald monks were the Seventy-Two Arts of Shaolin Temple!
"Amitabha, benefactor, you have excellent eyesight, you were able to see our martial arts foundation. Unfortunately, you are wrong. We are not monks of Shaolin Temple. It was the masters of Shaolin Temple who took pity on us, who, although we have Buddhist teachings, have no power to subdue demons and were afraid that we would encounter misfortune on the road. That is why they taught us Shaolin's unique skills for our self-defense."
An elderly monk, with completely white eyebrows and beard, took a step forward, carrying a staff weighing over ten kilograms. Despite his frail appearance, he spoke with remarkable ease and strength, saying, "Benefactor, you have committed countless acts of killing along your journey. Under the cycle of cause and effect, can you see the immense karmic burden you bear?"
"Why not give up and return to Buddhism, uphold the precepts and recite scriptures, so as to avert disaster—uh!"
Before the old monk could finish speaking, Wei Wu appeared in front of him and kicked the bald head like a soccer ball, sending it flying far away.
"What are you babbling about?"
Wei Wu picked at his ear, then shoved the old monk's remaining body to the ground. Looking at the terrified bald monks, he said, "So you're the ones spreading rumors about me?"
"Seven demons and gods—ha, I'll send you to hell to see what real demons and gods are like!"
Wei Wu crossed his arms and said, "Don't blame me for not giving you a chance. I won't use my hands, just my feet. Anyone who can withstand one blow and survive will be spared by the heavens!"
The bald monks initially wanted to run, but upon hearing Wei Wu's words, they secretly thought, "Although Master Longbrow couldn't withstand a single move, it was all due to this man's sneak attacks. I might be able to handle it!"
As they hesitated, Wei Wu's devilish voice rang out: "It's almost time!"
The monks quickly perked up.
Even the Mongolian masters and Tibetan monks watched Wei Wu's performance intently, trying to figure out his martial arts style.
Wei Wu moved with lightning speed, his body blurring into nine figures, making it impossible to distinguish the real from the fake. The bald monks were so bewildered that they had no choice but to unleash their ultimate techniques, attacking Wei Wu who was closest to them.
The Spiral Nine Shadows technique emphasizes the difficulty of distinguishing between truth and falsehood. By using this technique to confuse the enemy, the user can move freely, deciding whether to fight or flee in an instant.
But Wei Wu didn't do anything fancy; the nine fast-moving figures were all real!
Therefore, he kicked the heads of nine bald monks at the same time!
Tibetan monk: "!"
Mongolian expert: "?!"
The Semu man's lips twitched, his eyes gleaming with calculation. He leaned close to a Mongol and asked in a low voice, "Prince Möngke, are we really going to deal with this monster?"