RNP Page 33
Page 33
This time, the palace doors were tightly closed, and there were no outside guests. Those present were all core members of Wudang. Qiao Tian stood before the statues of the Three Pure Ones, with Wu Yazi and the proudly standing Wu Xingyun behind him. Below, Huang Shang, Jinzha, Yao Yao, as well as elders such as Su Xinghe and Granny Yu, all stood solemnly.
Qiao Tian's gaze swept over the crowd, finally settling on Huang Shang. His voice was steady and clear: "With the completion of the 'Wanshou Daozang,' the relationship between Wudang and the imperial court has temporarily come to an end. However, the Wudang lineage needs someone to inherit and carry it forward. Today, witnessed by my master, senior uncle, and fellow disciples, I, Qiao Tian, in the name of the Wudang Sect Leader, formally pass on the position of Sect Leader to Huang Shang!"
Huang Shang's body trembled slightly. He took a deep breath and slowly stepped forward. He was still wearing that blue robe. His gentle and scholarly demeanor seemed out of place for the position of the leader of this martial arts holy land, but the firmness and clarity in his eyes made him impossible to underestimate.
Wu Yazi looked at his grand-disciple and spoke gently, his voice carrying the wisdom and experience of someone who had seen through the world: "Shang'er, you are calm and composed, with deep-rooted wisdom. Your understanding of the Dao surpasses that of your master and me. The position of sect leader is not merely power, but also responsibility and constraint. I hope that in the future you will wield power with a Daoist heart, guide your path with wisdom, uphold righteousness and justice, and never forget the fundamental principle of 'doing nothing yet accomplishing everything'."
Although Wu Xingyun's expression remained cold, his tone had lost some of its former sharpness and gained a touch of solemnity: "Boy, remember! Wudang's prestige is not earned through forbearance. When it's time to stand firm, you must not be soft-hearted! If you are unsure about something, you can ask your master, or you can ask me, your grandmother. Do not tarnish Wudang's reputation, and do not let down your master's painstaking efforts."
Jinzha and Yaoyao also stepped forward. Jinzha restrained his usual arrogance and solemnly clasped his hands in greeting: "Senior Brother, congratulations! Rest assured, Junior Sister Yaoyao and I will do our utmost to assist you. Anyone who dares to cause trouble at Wudang will have to face my Azure Frost Sword first!" Yaoyao returned the greeting gracefully, her voice clear and melodious: "Senior Brother, if there are any matters within the sect that require coordination or assistance, Yaoyao will not hesitate to step forward."
Qiao Tian personally handed Huang Shang the whisk representing the sect leader's authority and an ancient, black iron sect leader's seal, patting him firmly on the shoulder. His eyes were filled with undisguised trust and expectation: "Shang'er, the future of Wudang is in your hands. Your path is different from mine. You don't need to pursue unparalleled martial arts, but only to protect this pure land of the sect, so that the clouds and mists of this mountain can still nourish the heart seeking the Dao. This may be more difficult than the path I have taken."
Huang Shang accepted the heavy seal with both hands, feeling its weight. He faced Qiao Tian, Wu Yazi and Wu Xingyun, and all his fellow disciples, bowing deeply to the very end. His voice was not loud, but every word was firm and resounding, as if he were making a vow:
"I will never forget the teachings of my Master, Grandmaster, and Senior Grandmaster. I will always remember the trust placed in me by my fellow disciples. I will dedicate my life to protecting the foundation of Wudang and promoting the true meaning of the Dao. Even if the road ahead is fraught with difficulties, I will never regret it!"
His words contained no grand pronouncements, but rather an absolute steadfastness based on reason and conviction. At this moment, Wudang officially entered a new era.
Meanwhile, a thousand miles away at Shaolin Temple, in the abbot's meditation room.
The sandalwood incense still burned, but the atmosphere was somewhat somber. Abbot Xuanci sat in the main seat, with several eminent monks of the Xuan generation, including Xuannan, the head of the Bodhidharma Institute, Xuanji, the head of the Discipline Institute, and Xuansheng, the head of the Nagarjuna Institute, as well as Master Xuanku, whose face was slightly bitter.
Xuan Nan, known for his fiery temper, now had a face ashen with suppressed rage: "Abbot Brother! That Qiao Tian's wolfish ambitions are blatantly obvious! What debate about the Dharma? He's clearly holding a grudge against our Shaolin for questioning him when he first established his sect. He's using the prestige of Wudang's compilation of the Daoist Canon to try and climb over our Shaolin's thousand-year-old reputation to rise to power! If our Shaolin backs down in the face of such provocation, how will the martial arts world view us?"
Xuanji remained calm and composed, twirling his prayer beads as he slowly said, “What Senior Brother Xuannan said is not without reason. However, Qiao Tian’s martial arts and wisdom are unfathomable, and he also has the support of the legacy of the Xiaoyao Sect, so he should not be underestimated. Moreover, he has taken the initiative in reasoning under the guise of ‘debating the law.’ If Shaolin reacts too strongly, it will only give us ammunition to criticize him.”
"Now that the invitation to challenge has been issued, the whole world knows. As the host and the leader of the martial arts world, it is impossible for Shaolin to avoid the battle. The key is how to respond in a way that does not lose Shaolin's dignity while also blunting their edge."
Abbot Xuanci, who had been listening with his eyes closed, slowly opened them. His eyes held a profound wisdom, as if he had seen through the fog of confusion. His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable decisiveness, delivering a final, resounding conclusion:
“Amitabha. Junior Brother Xuan Nan, anger is a great taboo in cultivation. What Headmaster Qiao has sent is a ‘challenge’ and also an ‘invitation’. Our Shaolin Temple, with its thousand-year history, has the capacity to swallow rivers and lakes. When he comes, he is a guest.”
His gaze swept over the monks, and he issued a decree: "Firstly, in the name of this old monk, I formally reply to Wudang. Say: Shaolin respectfully awaits the arrival of Wudang Sect Leader Qiao Tian on the 22nd day of the twelfth lunar month at Shaoshi Mountain to discuss the true meaning of Buddhism and to jointly celebrate this grand occasion."
"Secondly," he said, looking at the monk in charge of receiving guests, "from this moment on, open the mountain gate, sweep and clean the courtyard, and prepare to welcome heroes from all over the world. Whether the visitors are friends or guests, or even those with doubts, Shaolin will treat them with courtesy and show the broad-mindedness of our Buddhist community."
"Thirdly," he added, emphasizing his words, "inform my nephew Xuzhu to suspend his chores in the back mountain and quietly cultivate in the Sutra Repository in preparation for... welcoming guests."
“Abbot Brother!” Xuan Nan said urgently, “Although Xu Zhu is favored by the divine monk and has profound Buddhist wisdom, he is still young... How can he represent Shaolin in discussing the Dao with Wudang?”
Xuan Ci's gaze was deep, and he said calmly, "The Buddha's teachings are boundless, how can they be measured by the strength of fists and feet? What Qiao Tian wants to discuss is the Dao, the Dharma, and the principles. Xu Zhu has a pure heart and a thorough understanding of Buddhist principles, making him the most suitable candidate. Besides..." He paused, not continuing, but simply waved his hand, "Go, and carry out the order."
Seeing that the abbot had made up his mind, the monks said no more, put their palms together, accepted the order, and left the meditation room.
Inside the meditation room, only Xuanci remained. He walked to the window, gazing at the verdant peaks of Shaoshi Mountain, his eyes deep and unfathomable. Qiao Tian's actions were by no means a spur-of-the-moment decision.
Chapter 108 Sword Pointing at Shaoshi Mountain
In Luoyang, at the headquarters of the Beggars' Sect, in a secluded wing room.
The flickering candlelight illuminated two faces filled with ulterior motives. Quan Guanqing and Madam Ma, Kang Min, sat facing each other, the air thick with the lingering, sticky scent of intrigue and lust.
Kang Min was dressed in white mourning clothes, but it couldn't hide her innate allure. Her eyes held a hint of spring, but also a trace of venomous hatred. Her slender fingers drew circles on Quan Guanqing's chest, and her voice was soft and seductive: "Elder Quan, that Qiao Feng relied on his superior martial arts to sit in the position of leader. Has he ever put us old folks in his eyes? As long as he is in power, this Beggars' Sect will ultimately be ruled by him."
Quan Guanqing grabbed her restless hand, his eyes flashing with ambition and vigilance: "Madam, Qiao Feng's reputation is at its peak, and his martial arts are unfathomable. How easy would it be to take him down?"
"Easy?" Kang Min scoffed, freeing herself from his hand. She stood up, took out a sealed letter with sealing wax from a hidden compartment in the bed, and waved it in front of him. "Look what this is! This is a handwritten letter from the former gang leader, Wang Jiantong, that my dead husband, Ma Dayuan, treasured! It clearly states Qiao Feng's background—he is a Khitan barbarian!"
Quan Guanqing's pupils constricted sharply, and his breathing became more rapid.
Kang Min continued whispering, like a venomous snake spitting its tongue: "Not only that, I have secretly contacted Shan Zheng, the 'Iron-Faced Judge' from Yanmen Pass back then. His brother died in that bloody battle, and he hates the Khitans to the bone! There's also Zhao Qiansun, who's pretending to be crazy, and Master Zhiguang... At that time, in front of all the heroes of the world, with their testimony, let's see how Qiao Feng tries to deny it! This Shaolin gathering is a golden opportunity!"
A flicker of struggle crossed Quan Guanqing's face, quickly replaced by ruthlessness. He abruptly pulled Kang Min into his arms and whispered, "Don't worry, Madam! For the sake of the Beggars' Sect's foundation, and to eliminate this Khitan threat, I, Quan Guanqing, will not shirk my duty! At this Shaolin gathering, I will make sure Qiao Feng is utterly disgraced and never rise again!"
Wudang Mountain, at the summit of Tianzhu Peak.
Qiao Tian stood with his hands behind his back, his black Taoist robe motionless in the howling mountain wind, as if he had become one with the majestic green mountain beneath his feet. His gaze was level, looking towards Shaoshi Mountain in the west, his eyes calm, yet seemingly filled with surging lava.
Behind him stood three people, their auras profound; they were his three personally trained disciples.
"Is everything ready?" Qiao Tian asked, his voice not loud, but clear enough to penetrate the wind and reach the ears of the three.
Yao Yao, standing on the left, stepped forward half a step. Her beautiful face was solemn, and her voice was as clear and firm as a jade chime: "Reporting to Master, as per your instructions, the list of people involved in the Yanmen Pass incident, their past whereabouts, and all the indirect evidence we could collect have been compiled into a book and are carried with us." She gently patted the "Nine Heavens Jade Pendant" guqin on her back, all the files of which were secretly stored in the inner compartment of the guqin case.
Jinzha on the right still had that arrogant look on his lips, but his eyes were as sharp as a sword about to be drawn. He clasped his hands and said, "Master, the 508 elite disciples of Wudang's inner sect, personally selected by me, have all gathered at the foot of the mountain. Horses, provisions, and everything else are ready! They are just waiting for your order!" His tone was filled with barely suppressed excitement and fighting spirit.
Huang Shang, standing in the center, was still dressed in his green robe, his demeanor gentle and refined, but now his brows held a newfound composure and responsibility befitting a sect leader. He bowed slightly, his voice calm yet undeniably authoritative: "Master, rest assured, I have arranged all the sect's affairs properly. With Grandmaster and Grand Uncle presiding over Wudang, it is like a pillar of stability, ensuring absolute safety. You... just proceed."
After listening to the three reports, Qiao Tian slowly turned around.
A sudden mountain wind whipped his robes and made his black hair fly. He glanced at his three disciples, each with a distinct personality but all capable of great use, and finally looked towards the misty west, a slow smile curving his lips.
That was no longer the usual gentle smile, but a domineering aura that looked down on the world and said, "Who else but me?"
His clear shout resounded like thunder on the mountaintop.
"Then let's go!"
His voice suddenly rose, carrying a resolute determination to sever all hesitation and a heroic spirit that could stir up storms:
"Come with me to meet the thousand-year-old Shaolin! Let's meet those so-called...heroes of the world!"
Before he finished speaking, his figure, like a giant black crane, leaped down from the peak, soaring through layers of clouds and mist, heading straight down the mountain. Yao Yao, Jin Zha, and Huang Shang exchanged glances, all seeing the determination in each other's eyes, and then their figures flickered as they followed closely behind.
The Cloud Viewing Platform at the highest point of Wudang Mountain.
Wu Yazi and Wu Xingyun stood side by side, gazing down the mountain.
The mountain wind whipped up Wu Xingyun's blood-red dress and Wu Yazi's frost-white hair, and the two remained silent for a long time.
Finally, Wu Yazi sighed softly, a sigh tinged with bewilderment, regret, and a world-weary understanding of life: "Tian'er... possesses both wisdom and courage, and is exceptionally talented. He could have led Wudang to unprecedented glory, yet this time he poured all his energy into the cause, even going so far as to confront the thousand-year-old Shaolin Temple head-on, stirring up the entire martial world, all for a... adopted brother with no blood relation, who is even of Khitan origin. Such a character, though loyal and righteous, is perhaps too reckless, not the behavior of a hero who would build an everlasting empire."
Upon hearing this, Wu Xingyun snorted coldly, a sharp glint flashing in his phoenix eyes, and retorted with unwavering conviction, "Junior brother, I don't like hearing what you're saying!"
Her gaze remained fixed on the direction in which the group had disappeared, and her tone was resolute: "That's exactly right!"
"If Qiao Tian can sit idly by and watch his brother, who grew up with him, be framed and ruined for the sake of the so-called big picture or the so-called foundation, then he is not worthy to be my nephew, Wu Xingyun, and even less worthy to lead the Wudang sect!"
She turned her head sharply, staring at Wu Yazi, her eyes burning with what seemed like flames: "If a person has no feelings, what difference is there between him and a stubborn rock? No matter how high one's martial arts skills or how high one's status, if one cannot even protect one's closest relatives, what use is this glory or this foundation?! I see him as a true hero, true to his nature, acting swiftly and decisively, unafraid of power! He is a thousand times better than those hypocrites who spout benevolence and morality but secretly scheme and plot!"
Wu Yazi was slightly taken aback by his senior sister's sharp rebuke. Looking at Wu Xingyun's dazzling radiance, made even more captivating by her excitement, and her undisguised admiration, he couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle, "Alright, alright, you're right. I was wrong, junior brother!" In his words, his indifference had vanished, replaced by a sense of relief and a faint sigh.
Wu Xingyun's expression softened slightly, and a proud smile, almost protective of her own, appeared on her lips:
"That's more like it. I'd like to see who in this world can stop Wudang!"
At the foot of Wudang Mountain, on the official road.
The earth trembled slightly!
More than a hundred riders, all on strong, sturdy horses, stood at attention. The riders were all dressed in black Taoist robes, carrying long swords on their backs. Their faces were solemn, their eyes sharp, and their auras were refined, clearly indicating that they were all highly skilled in internal energy! They were silent, with only the occasional snorts and restless pawing of their hooves creating an invisible atmosphere of killing intent.
Qiao Tian moved with lightning speed, gracefully landing on the back of the lead, magnificent black horse, and flicked the reins.
The commands are concise and powerful.
"Boom--!"
More than five hundred riders started moving at the same time, like a black torrent bursting its banks, galloping westward along the wide official road! The sound of hooves was like muffled thunder rolling the ground, and dust rose into the sky, forming a yellow smoke dragon that stretched for more than a mile, with an astonishing momentum.
Pedestrians and business travelers on both sides of the road stopped and made way for each other, their faces showing shock.
A little girl with pigtails, holding a half-eaten candied hawthorn, was being held tightly by her mother. Her big, dark eyes were wide open as she watched the silent and majestic Taoist cavalry whiz past, the wind whipping up her hair.
She tugged at her mother's sleeve, her little mouth agape, and let out a tender gasp:
"Wow—! Mom, look! So many people, so many horses! Where...where are they going?"
Her mother quickly covered her mouth, her eyes also filled with shock, and whispered, "Don't make a sound, those are the immortals from Wudang Mountain... They're going... going to do something important."
At the head of the group, Qiao Tian walked against the wind, his gaze piercing through the dust, pointing directly at Shaoshi Mountain. Behind him stood the new generation of Wudang elites, a force powerful enough to shake the very fabric of the martial world.
The winds of change are stirred by him.
The clanging of iron hooves shattered the tranquility of autumn.
The Xuanjia torrent points straight towards Shaoshi Mountain!
The curtain of the martial arts world has thus been completely drawn.
Chapter 109 Going to Shaolin
Qiao Tian's challenge was like a thunderclap, shaking the entire land! On the 22nd day of the twelfth lunar month, Shaoshi Mountain was no longer a quiet Buddhist sanctuary, but a grand stage about to be drenched in the blood of heroes from all over the world!
Throughout the land, the news has spread far and wide!
The Tibetan ceremonial procession, its Buddhist flames blazing!
Along the official road, the chanting of Buddhist scriptures resounded! Sixteen red-robed lamas, their inner strength surging, lifted two magnificent Tibetan palanquins three feet off the ground, making them seem to ride the wind! Around the palanquins, sutras fluttered like golden snowflakes, while Tibetan warriors behind them held aloft gilded plaques proclaiming: "Tibetan National Preceptor," "Great Wheel King," "Boundless Dharma," "Awe-inspiring Throughout the World!" Kumārajīva sat regally in the front palanquin, his countenance solemn, his eyes disdainful, regarding the heroes of the Central Plains as nothing. In the rear palanquin, Xuancheng, his hair disheveled, twirled his toes, laughing heartily at the boisterous spectacle: "Fun! Fun! Little Zhi, this scene is quite something!" This bizarre and domineering combination drew the attention of the heroes along the way, both astonished and horrified.
Murong in the South, Qiao Feng in the North, their paths cross amidst the turbulent winds of change!
On the official road, Murong Fu reined in his horse and gazed into the distance, his eyes burning with ambition: "Shaolin? Wudang? Excellent! Such a grand gathering is perfectly suited to my reputation! Let's set off, and turn towards Shaoshi Mountain!" Behind him, Wang Yuyan quietly accompanied him, while Duan Yu followed closely, wanting to stay with her for as long as possible. In the shadows, Murong Bo's black robes fluttered, his gaze sharp as a hawk: What exactly is Qiao Tian, this brat, up to?
The Prince of Dali personally visited the Duan family!
Holding the invitation to heroes, Prince Duan Zhengchun of Zhennan laughed loudly: "With such a grand event, how could my Duan family be absent? All generals, heed my command, follow me north to meet the heroes of the world!" His kingly demeanor was on full display.
Evil people gather, each with their own ulterior motives!
Amidst the winds and sands of the northern frontier, Ye Erniang, her face contorted in near madness, gripped Duan Yanqing's iron staff: "Boss! Shaolin! I must go to Shaolin! If you stop me, I'll die here!" Her desperate and resolute stance silenced even Yue Laosan and Yun Zhonghe. Duan Yanqing's face remained icy, and he ultimately acquiesced. The Four Evils transformed into four fierce winds, sweeping towards Shaoshi Mountain.
There is nowhere to escape the grievances of the past!
"Iron-Faced Judge" Shan Zheng, his face grave, rushed to Shaolin. Master Zhiguang, holding prayer beads, silently recited scriptures, embarking on a path of repentance and confrontation. Tan Gong, Tan Po, Zhao Qiansun… these names forgotten by time were all propelled by an invisible force to the judgment seat of fate. The will of Wang Jiantong, presented by Madam Ma Kang Min, was the gavel that tolled this trial.
Shadowy figures roam freely, their resolve to die is unwavering!
Standing atop the mountain, Xiao Yuanshan's thirty years of hatred surged to the heavens! "My child's mother! Wait! All my enemies, I will make them bleed to death before the world! After today, I will join you!" He roared, his figure transforming into a raging thunderbolt of vengeance, heading straight for Shaoshi Mountain. He was not going there to survive, but only to avenge his grudges!
The Beggars' Sect marches forth in a mighty force, their spirits undiminished!
Qiao Feng, holding a wine pouch, raised his head and drank heartily. Hearing that his elder brother had led the Wudang disciples to Shaolin to discuss the Dao with the world, his heroic spirit soared to the heavens!
"Hahaha! Good! Brother, if you have such a refined interest, I, as your brother, will certainly support you!! Beggar Clan disciples, follow me to Shaoshi Mountain! Stand up and cheer for my brother!"
His voice was booming and his boldness unparalleled. He was unaware that his brother's true purpose was himself. Thousands of Beggar Clan disciples responded with a thunderous roar, gathering into a mighty torrent of outlaws, their momentum overwhelming, and they rushed straight towards Shaolin.
The ancient Shaolin Temple, its gates wide open, bells tolling, seemingly to cleanse the air of bloodshed. Monks stand solemnly on either side, welcoming this unprecedented influx of people from all directions. Heroes from the Three Mountains and Five Peaks, elites from renowned sects, and powerful figures from heretical sects… a diverse mix of heroes and villains, all converge here.
The winds are blowing, and a thunderstorm is imminent!
At this moment, Shaoshi Mountain has attracted the attention of the world and has also become the gathering place for thirty years of grudges!
An unprecedented epic tale of the martial arts world is about to unfold in the most intense way!
Chapter 110 The Holy Monk, Xuzhu
On the 22nd day of the twelfth lunar month, at Shaoshi Mountain.
A cold wind swept across the vast mountain ridges, and the clear sound of copper bells under the eaves of the ancient temple echoed into the clouds. Thousands of heroes had already gathered on the enormous plaza of Shaoshi Mountain. Some wore brocade robes and carried swords, exuding an air of elegance; others were dressed in tattered clothes, weary from their journey. From the Three Mountains and Five Peaks, from righteous to evil factions, all held their breath, their gazes fixed on the white stone platform to the north. There sat Abbot Xuanci of Shaolin, his white eyebrows lowered, his countenance solemn and dignified, like an ancient, resonant bell. Behind him, the heads of the Dharma Hall, the Discipline Hall, and the Prajna Hall stood solemnly in their respective positions, their auras blending seamlessly, subtly resembling a Buddhist formation, an atmosphere of solemnity enveloping the entire area.
Suddenly, a tearful cry rang out from the crowd to the east: "Yu'er! My Yu'er!" Everyone turned to look and saw a woman in Taoist robes rushing out, her hair slightly disheveled and tears welling in her eyes. It was none other than Princess Dao Baifeng, the Princess of Zhennan. Behind her were several people, the one in the lead wearing a purple robe and jade belt, his face filled with worry. He was none other than Prince Duan Zhengchun of Zhennan.
Duan Yu shuddered, turned around, and cried out, "Mother! Father!" He rushed forward. Dao Baifeng grabbed his hand, her voice trembling, "My child...where have you been all this time? I've been worried sick day and night..." Her voice choked with emotion. Duan Zhengchun said in a deep voice, "It's good that you're back. The world of martial arts is dangerous; come back with us this time!" Though his words were stern, the concern in his eyes was undisguised.
Just then, a cold snort came from the southwest corner, not loud, but clearly piercing everyone's ears. Everyone looked over and saw the Four Evils silently arriving. Duan Yanqing tapped the ground with his iron staff, his body hovering several inches in the air, his eyes like cold lightning, staring straight at Duan Zhengchun.
The most eye-catching figure in the arena was the burly man who had stood before the hundreds of Beggars' Sect disciples. Qiao Feng stood with his arms crossed, his figure as strong and imposing as a mountain. Though he did not utter a word, his heroic and domineering aura made the surrounding heroes breathless and unable to look him in the eye.
Just as all was silent and the atmosphere was tense, a long chant suddenly came from the foot of the mountain, causing the remaining snow on the pine branches to fall in a flurry:
"The Tibetan National Preceptor, the Great Wheel King, arrives at Shaoshi Mountain!"
A grand procession appeared at the end of the mountain path. Leading the way were eight imposing, solemn-looking red-robed lamas, carrying prayer flags and incense burners. Close behind were sixteen strong lamas, who, with their combined strength, lifted an extremely ornate Tibetan palanquin adorned with golden bells and colorful jewels. The palanquin, three feet off the ground, moved smoothly as if gliding on flat ground, slowly "slid" into the center of the path. The palanquin curtains, embroidered with intricate mandala patterns in gold thread, shimmered brilliantly in the thin winter sunlight.
The sedan curtains moved automatically without any wind, lifting to both sides.
A figure slowly stepped out of the sedan chair.
The visitor was none other than the Tibetan National Preceptor—Kumārajīva, the Great Wheel King.
He wore a deep purple robe with gold trim, a pointed monk's hat, and had a solemn and dignified face. His skin had a subtle, jade-like glow, and his eyes shone with a divine light that made one afraid to look directly at him. He held a string of crystal-clear amber prayer beads in his hand, and his steps were unhurried, as if he were walking on clouds.
His gaze, gentle as warm jade, first slowly swept over the thousands of heroes present, taking in their shock, curiosity, and awe, before finally settling on Abbot Xuanci on the high platform.
Kumārajīva clasped his hands together in a standard Buddhist salute. His voice, though not loud, reached everyone's ears clearly, possessing a captivating magnetism.
"This humble monk is Kumārajīva, the National Preceptor of Tibet. Today I heard that the Shaolin Temple is holding this unprecedented grand gathering of heroes, with nine out of ten pavilions of heroes from all over the world present. Such a grand occasion is rare in a hundred years, which shows that Shaolin is the leading force in the Central Plains martial arts world, a leader among its peers, and has a great prestige."
He first flattered Shaolin and the assembled heroes, speaking with utmost politeness, leaving no room for criticism.