Chapter 57: Calamity Strikes Shaolin

Death ends all troubles? How could that possibly be.

Madame Ye had committed countless sins, and the vast majority of them could be attributed to the man right before them—Xuanzi.

How did a poor peasant woman, completely helpless when her father fell gravely ill, end up becoming one of the Four Evil Men reviled by the entire martial arts world? Where did her formidable martial arts come from?

Who was it that knew full well he had created a monstrous criminal, yet played deaf and dumb, remaining utterly indifferent?

Who was it that only cared about his son after the child was snatched away, tossing the boy's mother a sum of money and never checking on them again?

Zhang Chengyi was willing to grant Madame Ye a swift end, but he had no intention of letting Xuanzi die an easy death. He released the old bald donkey from his grip and said in a clear, resonant voice, "Xuzhu, step forward and acknowledge your father."

A wave of agitation rippled through the crowd. Xuzhu, who had been pushed to the back due to his low martial arts skills, was shoved to the front. He flatly refused to believe the abbot was his father.

Without paying heed to extraneous matters, Zhang Chengyi stated directly, "Madame Ye was originally a poor peasant woman. After becoming involved with Abbot Xuanzi, she bore a son. Mother Qiao acted as the midwife for this birth and can serve as a human witness. Afterward, the child was seized by enemies, left in the Shaolin Temple's vegetable garden, and raised to adulthood by Shaolin monks—"

"That person is you, Xuzhu."

"After losing her son, Madame Ye went mad, snatching other people's children everywhere she went. Abbot Xuanzi, you must bear the greater part of the blame for these evils."

His words rang with undeniable authority. The monks were stunned, and Xuzhu was left half-convinced.

"Amitabha," Xuanzi sighed, collapsing to the ground. With a portion of his inner energy drained, his face was deathly pale. "It is true. Everything the benefactor said is entirely accurate."

"Since you admit it, that settles it." Zhang Chengyi stepped forward, grabbed Xuzhu, and said, "Madame Ye has already received her punishment, but if you, the ultimate culprit, want to die and escape it all, who will pay for the sins she committed?"

Without wasting any more breath, he grabbed Xuzhu and leaped into the air, soaring over the heads of the bald-headed monks, leaving behind a single sentence: "In half an hour, deliver Shaolin Temple's martial arts manuals to the mountain gate."

He had not come on this trip alone; several disciples of the Deaf-Mute Sect were following behind in carriages, currently waiting outside the mountain gate.

Xuzhu felt as though he were flying. Light and shadow intertwined before his eyes, and by the time he regained his senses, he was already standing in front of the Scripture Pavilion.

"Benefactor, what—why are you grabbing me?" He looked at the fingers pressed against his body, remembering the unstoppable sword qi that had burst from those very fingertips moments ago, and a trace of fear stirred in his heart.

Zhang Chengyi looked at the thin, emaciated monk nearby who was leisurely sweeping up fallen leaves with a broom. "I killed your mother, Madame Ye, crippled your father Xuanzi's martial arts, and mocked you for being ugly in front of so many people. They sinned, but you are innocent. Furthermore, I find you quite pleasing to the eye, so I've decided to bestow a great fortune upon you."

Qi surged inward. Having received the power transmission from tens of thousands of people, he was undoubtedly one of the most brilliant experts in the realm of imparting internal energy. With a single exertion of force, he expertly guided the energy through Xuzhu's body for two cycles. The Beiming True Qi was generated, and in the blink of an eye, over a thousand points of inner energy were poured into him. After circulating through various pathways, a full seven hundred-plus points remained.

The sweeping monk put down his broom, raised his head, and looked over. A trace of astonishment flickered in his otherwise tranquil, ancient-well-like eyes.

"Whoosh!"

Xuzhu's robes billowed from the true qi, and the fallen leaves at his feet were blown empty into the air.

"Swoosh!"

Zhang Chengyi tapped lightly against a leaf, infusing it with true qi, and the leaf shot toward the sweeping monk like lightning.

"No!" Xuzhu's worried cry slipped out involuntarily, completely oblivious to how he managed to track the leaf's trajectory. Driven by an urgent desire to save him, he chased after the leaf.

To his surprise, before the leaf could even approach the sweeping monk, it slowed down as if falling into a spiderweb, eventually coming to a complete halt.

"Not bad."

Zhang Chengyi praised. That single move of his had utilized a full ten percent of his inner energy, yet the old monk had caught it with effortless calm. He truly lived up to being the character in the novel who conjured a three-foot qi wall.

This feat was not achieved by clashing true qi against his own; in terms of pure internal energy levels, the old monk opposite him fell far short of Wu Yazi, let alone himself. The man had used sheer skill to dissolve his attack, which was why the leaf remained completely unharmed.

Xuzhu charged forward recklessly and almost stumbled, but he was supported by a gentle, formless force. Once he steadied himself, he finally realized what had happened.

The sweeping monk parted his palms from the joined-hands salute, cupped his hands to catch the slowly drifting leaf, and asked, "The benefactor's internal cultivation has already reached the pinnacle of perfection. Why persist in coveting our sect's martial arts?"

"The pinnacle of perfection?" Zhang Chengyi laughed. "What I seek is the endless boundary of martial arts."

A hint of strangeness surfaced in the sweeping monk's eyes.

"Accompany me for a stroll." Zhang Chengyi stamped his foot on the ground. The fallen leaves rose into the air, standing rigidly upright under the influence of his true qi, ready to be projected outward the moment he exerted force.

His previous move had used ten percent of his inner energy, but his formidable physical constitution—capable of turning iron into clay—had not been utilized at all.

The old monk before him had performed well, but it was merely performing well. If they were to truly fight, he could thrust a single finger forward, and under the propulsion of his flesh, the sword qi would instantly puncture the old monk like a water bag riddled with leaks.

"It would be my pleasure."

The sweeping monk smiled faintly and agreed. Having reached his level of mastery, a single tentative exchange was enough to know who would win and who would lose; why create unnecessary unpleasantness for everyone?

Moreover, he was genuinely curious about what the other man hoped to achieve through such actions, and what kind of impact it would bring to the world.

"Good." Zhang Chengyi nodded and withdrew his true qi.

Seeing the two of them about to leave him behind, Xuzhu panicked slightly. "Benefactor, I... you—"

"My name is Zhang Chengyi, or you can call me the Golden Mountain Ranger," Zhang Chengyi said without turning back. "No need to thank me, and certainly don't try to claim any relations with me."

"If you want to take revenge, or save your father, come to Leigu Mountain."

Xuzhu looked blankly at the empty Scripture Pavilion as leaves fluttered down around him. Having grown up as a monk in the Shaolin Temple since childhood, he had never felt so utterly lost.

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During the Mid-Autumn Festival, the Shaolin Temple suffered a catastrophe. Six monks of the Xuan generation, including Abbot Xuanzi, were abducted together by the Golden Mountain Ranger, along with all the martial arts manuals either created or collected by the Shaolin Temple over hundreds of years of its existence.

This incident immediately sent shockwaves through the martial arts world. Ever since the imperial court offered amnesty in Suzhou city, that place had lost much of its sensational heat.

Leigu Mountain naturally could not escape the scrutiny of both the imperial court and wandering martial artists. This place was far too close to Kaifeng—so close that the imperial government could not possibly ignore a former rebel leader living right there, especially since this rebel leader had also brazenly stormed the Shaolin Temple, kidnapped high-ranking Shaolin monks, taken away a vast cache of Shaolin unique arts, gathered a multitude of experts, wiped out nearby wealthy households, and stubbornly refused official intervention...

The imperial court had countless reasons to annihilate the rebels on Leigu Mountain. Even if they were to offer amnesty, it would have to wait until they had clashed swords first.

Consequently, the imperial court formulated a plan: once the autumn harvest concluded, the grand army would set out in imposing formation to suppress the bandits on Leigu Mountain. Even before the operation commenced, the news spread across the entire realm like wings.

Everyone in the martial arts world was stirred into action upon hearing the news.