RNP Page 30
Page 30
Immediately afterwards, he quietly pointed out with his left index finger, without making a sound, but the force of his finger was as concentrated as a needle, with extremely strong penetrating power, directly targeting the major acupoint on Qiao Tian's chest. At the same time, he chanted the corresponding mental technique of "Formless Finger of Calamity": "No self, no person, no sentient being, no life span..." The finger wind was fierce, specifically designed to break through internal true energy.
Qiao Tian exclaimed "Huh?", a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes. This Kumārajīva's Prajna Palm and Formless Finger were exquisite in their techniques, and the application of force was seasoned, ruthless, and precise, faintly revealing a...familiar feeling? It was actually seven or eight parts similar to the unrestrained martial arts style of his Uncle-Master Xuancheng!
But he didn't slow down at all. He still kept one hand behind his back, using only his right hand to respond with the jade flute. The jade flute seemed to come alive in his hand, sometimes becoming a sword, pointing, stabbing, picking, and wiping, precisely cutting off the flow of power from the Prajna Palm; sometimes becoming a ruler, blocking, deflecting, and guiding the power of the Formless Finger into empty space. His posture was so composed, as if he were strolling in a leisurely garden.
Occasionally, when the jade flute couldn't be swiftly deflected, he would casually strike with a palm, the force concentrated yet undispersed, arriving first despite being delayed, always perfectly blocking Kumārajīva's attacks. And the jade flute, under his exquisite control of the Dragon-Capturing Skill, would sometimes fly out of his hand, spinning rapidly around his body, dispelling layers of palm shadows and finger winds; at other times, it would suddenly fall back, easily picked up by him, and pointed out again. Truly, the flute moved with him, man and flute became one, elegant and graceful to the extreme.
Jinzha watched with rapt attention, murmuring, "Did you see that? Master, this is the true realm of 'controlling objects'! I still need to consciously control it with my mind, but Master can already make objects follow his will, as if that jade flute is a part of his body!"
As the fight progressed, Kumārajīva grew increasingly alarmed. He had unleashed his most powerful techniques, combined with the Buddhist principles and mental cultivation methods taught by Xuancheng, to their fullest extent, yet he couldn't even force his opponent back a single step! His opponent's posture—one hand behind his back, each light tap of the jade flute—felt like a silent mockery. Fueled by rage, he suddenly unleashed his full power to its peak, merging his Prajna Palm Force and Formless Finger Force into one. With a roar, he pushed forward with both palms, unleashing an overwhelming, unstoppable force, like a raging torrent, crashing directly into Qiao Tian!
Qiao Tian felt the force that was powerful enough to split mountains and shatter rocks, and knew that if he tried to break the spell with brute force, Kumārajīva would be severely injured. His mind raced, and he instantly put away his jade flute. He also pushed out with one palm, but at the last moment before contact, he quietly withdrew five-tenths of his true power.
"boom--!"
Their palms clashed, producing a deep, thunderous roar! The shockwave exploded outwards from the two men, kicking up dust that spread in all directions.
Qiao Tian swayed slightly but quickly regained his balance. Kumārajīva, on the other hand, stumbled back three steps before finally standing firm. He felt his blood surging in his chest and his right palm tingling with numbness, and he was horrified.
Qiao Tian brushed away non-existent dust from his sleeves, his smile remaining gentle, as if the earth-shattering exchange of blows was merely a casual greeting. He said loudly, "Master's martial arts are superb, his inner strength profound, and his application of the Seventy-Two Ultimate Techniques is exquisite. Qiao Tian admires you. This contest is evenly matched, so how about... we call it a draw?"
Upon hearing this, Kumārajīva knew that the other party was intentionally yielding, but the word "draw" and the way Qiao Tian had offered were exactly what he wanted. He suppressed his surging blood and qi, took a deep breath, and instantly regained his dignified and arrogant demeanor. He stood tall and proud, his voice booming, as if he himself had not just been forced back three steps:
"Master Qiao's profound skills are unfathomable, truly formidable! This humble monk is fortunate enough to witness Master Qiao's unparalleled prowess today; it is truly a great joy in my life!"
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, and with an air of arrogance that said, "I've already proven it," he declared emphatically:
"There are few in the world who can fight this humble monk to a draw! You, Master Qiao, are one of them. Let's end it here for today. I hope there will be another opportunity to compete with you in the future!"
Having said that, he felt he had saved face, and with a flourish, he tossed his monk's robe and turned to leave with the Tibetan warriors, maintaining the demeanor of a "reclusive high monk."
However, as soon as he turned around, a disheveled figure appeared beside him like a ghost. Who else could it be but Xuan Cheng?
Xuan Cheng clapped his hands and laughed loudly, his voice so loud it shook the eardrums: "Xiao Zhi! The trouble has only just begun, why are you stopping already? You're not going to fight anymore? That's no fun! Beat him up! What are you afraid of? Your ancestor will back you up!"
Kumārajīva's solemn expression vanished instantly, his lips twitched, and he subconsciously rubbed his still somewhat numb right palm with his left hand. Looking troubled, he whispered, "Senior, this… Sect Leader Qiao's martial arts are highly skilled, as has already been proven…"
Qiao Tian stared at the suddenly appearing, eccentric yet unfathomably powerful, disheveled man. His smile slowly froze, his eyes filled with surprise and uncertainty. He tentatively spoke, his voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of gravity:
"Xuancheng... Uncle-Master?"
Chapter 96 The Highest Realm of Martial Arts
Qiao Tian stared at the disheveled, erratic figure, his heart pounding. He tentatively spoke, his voice trembling slightly: "Xuan Cheng... Uncle-Master? Is it really you?"
Xuan Cheng was gesturing wildly around Kumārajīva when he heard this. He stopped, tilted his head, and looked at Qiao Tian with cloudy yet childlike eyes full of pure curiosity. He scratched his messy hair and said, "Uncle-Master? Who's your Uncle-Master? Kid, you recognize me? I don't remember you. This is fun, really fun!" He grinned, revealing a completely innocent smile, as if he had heard something extremely interesting.
Seeing that Xuan Cheng had forgotten his past, Qiao Tian felt only respect and regret for his former Shaolin uncle. He took a deep breath, suppressed his surging emotions, and turned to Jin Zha beside him, ordering in a deep voice: "Jin Zha, go to Ting Song Pavilion in the back mountain immediately and respectfully invite Master and Grandmaster Uncle to come. Tell them that... Master Xuan Cheng, an old friend, has come to visit."
Although Jinzha didn't understand why, seeing his master's solemn expression, he dared not be negligent. He responded and his figure flashed as he rushed towards the back mountain like a wisp of smoke.
Qiao Tian's gaze returned to Xuan Cheng, his tone filled with reminiscence and emotion, attempting to awaken his dormant memories: "Uncle-Master Xuan Cheng, do you still remember? You once vowed to use your supreme wisdom and perseverance to master all seventy-two Shaolin arts, to stand shoulder to shoulder with Bodhidharma, to reach the pinnacle of martial arts, and to illuminate the ages..."
Kumārajīva, who had been embarrassed by Xuancheng's interference, was visibly shaken upon hearing Qiao Tian's words. He stared at his senior in disbelief. He was an expert in Shaolin martial arts, well aware of their vastness and the inherent strengths and weaknesses of each technique, and how dangerous it was to forcefully practice them. And this man before him had actually made such a grand, almost impossible vow? A deep sense of respect welled up within him.
Xuan Cheng listened to Qiao Tian's words, tilting his head and trying hard to think. His brows were tightly furrowed, as if he was digging deep into his mind. But in the end, he shook his head vigorously, his face showing confusion and impatience: "Bodhidharma? Special skills? I don't remember, I don't remember! It sounds too troublesome. Fighting is more fun!"
Just then, two figures gracefully arrived; they were Wu Yazi and Wu Xingyun.
Wu Yazi's gaze fell on Xuan Cheng, instantly becoming incredibly deep and complex. Wu Xingyun, dressed in fiery red, his eyes sharp as knives, sized Xuan Cheng up and down, saying, "How did this bald monk become such a grotesque figure?"
Wu Yazi gently waved his hand, stopping Wu Xingyun from speaking. He gazed at Xuan Cheng's eyes, which were no longer full of fighting spirit, but only pure and chaotic, and slowly spoke, his voice carrying the vicissitudes of life: "Master, do you still recognize your old friends?"
Xuan Cheng blinked, leaned closer to Wu Yazi for a look, then sniffed him. Suddenly, he clapped his hands and laughed, "You smell wonderful! Even better than that fierce-looking woman in red!"
Seeing his reaction, Wu Yazi knew that his mind had been completely lost. He turned to look at Qiao Tian, who had a sorrowful expression, and said gently, "Tian'er, there is no need to be so attached. He has forgotten all his obsessions and the past, and his mind has returned to a state of chaos and ignorance. Isn't this a kind of liberation? We should be happy for him."
Upon hearing this, Qiao Tian's lips moved, but ultimately turned into a sigh.
However, Wu Yazi changed the subject, turning his gaze back to Xuan Cheng. His gentle eyes suddenly sharpened, and a vast and powerful aura rose from his body, as if a slumbering dragon had awakened, instantly enveloping the entire plaza! The air seemed to thicken and become heavy, and the disciples with lower cultivation levels felt their breath catch in their throats.
"But, Master!" Wu Yazi's voice wasn't loud, but every word struck like thunder, resonating in everyone's hearts. "Even if you've forgotten everything, your past brilliance and your martial will that dared to rival Bodhidharma should not be buried."
His robes fluttered and rustled even without wind as he declared loudly, "Today, let me, Wuyazi, lend you a hand, Master, and help you reach the pinnacle of martial arts!"
This aura and these words moved everyone present!
Xuan Cheng was taken aback at first, but then he felt Wu Yazi's soaring fighting spirit and overwhelming momentum. Instead of being afraid, he was so excited that he danced around, his eyes bursting with pure light: "How interesting! Good! I'll fight you! Come on!" The decadent and crazy aura on his body was instantly replaced by a wild and powerful fighting instinct.
"Wait a minute!" Xuan Cheng suddenly pointed at Wu Yazi, wrinkling his nose. "Hey, you over there, kid," he pointed at Qiao Tian, "you come too! That'll make it more fun!"
He was actually going to fight both Qiao Tian and Wu Yazi alone!
Qiao Tian and Wu Yazi exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of eagerness in each other's eyes.
"Good!" Wu Yazi laughed loudly. Without any visible movement, his figure shot out and hovered in mid-air! He grabbed at the air with his hand, and the ancient zither "Nine Heavens Jade Pendant" that Yao Yao was holding in the distance emitted a clear sound and turned into a stream of light that fell into his hand.
Wu Yazi landed on the stone steps of the palace gate, placed the zither across his knees, and his ten fingers swept across the strings like butterflies flitting among flowers!
"Clang—clang—!"
No longer were the pleasant sounds of the zither, but rather explosions like the clash of metal and the blast of thunder! Visible, condensed sound waves, like invisible blades and heavy hammers, carried a terrifying power that tore everything apart and crushed everything, instantly shattering the entire plaza and completely engulfing Xuan Cheng! The sound of explosions continued incessantly.
Xuan Cheng, standing at the center of the sonic storm, laughed heartily, neither dodging nor avoiding, and his body suddenly burst forth with dazzling golden light! It was none other than Shaolin's supreme protective divine skill—the Vajra Indestructible Body! He remained unmoved as the sonic waves, powerful enough to shatter rocks and pierce gold, bombarded his body, producing a dense "clanging" sound like the forging of iron, with only a slight ripple of golden light.
At the same time, he moved like lightning, rushing straight at Qiao Tian. He used all seventy-two unique skills with ease, including fists, palms, fingers, and claws. His moves were fierce and sharp, yet they also carried a sense of returning to simplicity. Each strike contained the power to shatter mountains and split rocks!
Qiao Tian's expression was solemn, and he dared not be negligent. He pushed the Nine Yang Limitless Skill within his body to its limit, and the Tai Chi Fish Diagram protective true energy burst forth, forming an incredibly solid, almost tangible, aura around his body. Xuan Cheng's fierce attack struck the aura, producing a muffled boom, and the energy overflowed, but it still could not break through this perfect defense.
"Haha! That's great! That's great! Your turtle shell is tough enough!" Xuan Cheng was not angry but happy, and his attack became even more ferocious.
Seeing Xuan Cheng's arrogance, Wu Xingyun was so angry that her eyebrows shot up. She sneered, "What an arrogant bald monk! Since you feel good, then I'll make you feel even better!"
Before she finished speaking, she had already joined the battle! She unleashed the full power of the Eight Desolations and Six Directions Supreme Technique, her powerful palm strikes like an avalanche on Mount Tian, carrying a chilling cold that could freeze the soul and an overwhelming domineering force, as she launched a fierce attack on Xuan Cheng from the flank!
In an instant, an astonishing scene unfolded in the center of the square: three heroes battling Xuan Cheng!
Xuan Cheng single-handedly fought against three peerless masters—Qiao Tian, Wu Yazi, and Wu Xingyun—and held his own in the slightest! He displayed the seventy-two Shaolin arts to their fullest extent, sometimes using the Vajra Palm to directly clash with Wu Xingyun, sometimes using the Flower-Picking Finger and the Formless Finger to remotely strike Wu Yazi, and sometimes using the Dragon Claw Hand and the Indra's Claw to forcefully attack Qiao Tian's protective shield. He shouted repeatedly, revealing his wild and unrestrained nature, yet it also carried an indescribable martial arts rhythm.
The four individuals' inner energy surged and collided violently, generating a shockwave like a raging storm, whipping up dust and rubble from the plaza and forming a massive vortex. The onlookers were forced to retreat again and again until they reached the edge of the plaza, where they could still feel the chilling oppressive atmosphere.
Kumārajīva was already captivated, trembling with excitement, almost unable to control himself. This was the pinnacle of martial arts he had always dreamed of! Was this the true strength of his senior? To fight three grandmasters of Wudang alone, and to be able to wield them with such ease!
Suddenly, the battle situation changed again!
Wu Yazi's zither music suddenly soared, becoming sharp and piercing. He gripped and pulled hard on the strings with one hand, and the seven strings seemed to transform into seven fully drawn divine bowstrings! Amidst the buzzing sound, seven transparent sonic arrows, condensed to the extreme and seemingly possessing substance, tore through the sky, carrying an all-piercing determination, and instantly locked onto the seven vital acupoints around Xuan Cheng's body!
At the same time, relying on the indestructible body forged by the Nine Yang Limitless Skill, Qiao Tian recklessly abandoned part of his defense and rushed towards Xuan Cheng like a cannonball. Wherever he passed, the bluestone slabs under his feet could not withstand the enormous force and shattered, with fragments of stone shooting out in all directions like raindrops!
Wu Xingyun also let out a sharp cry, and with both palms out, the palm force of the Eight Desolations and Six Directions Supreme Technique condensed into a visible white cold current, like an ice dragon emerging from its cave, sealing off Xuan Cheng's retreat!
Faced with this deadly attack from three directions, Xuan Cheng showed no fear at all; instead, the mad light in his eyes reached its peak!
He suddenly stopped, clasped his hands together, and uttered a Zen chant that shook the heavens:
"Using the formless as form, the infinite as finite, all things in the world are my Dharma—Buddha descends!!!"
With this incantation, under everyone's stunned gaze, Xuan Cheng's figure seemed to blur and disintegrate in an instant—no, not disintegrate, but his movements were so fast that they left behind countless clear afterimages! At a glance, it seemed as if seventy-two figures existed simultaneously!
Each figure was performing a completely different Shaolin technique!
Some figures were practicing the powerful and unparalleled Vajra Palm, some were displaying the exquisite and unparalleled Flower-Picking Finger, some were performing the Shadowless Leg like ghosts, and some were solemnly forming various Buddhist mudras...
Seventy-two figures, seventy-two unique techniques! Unleashed simultaneously!
It was as if there were seventy-two Xuan Chengs simultaneously dealing with the attacks from three sides! The entire plaza was filled with countless kinds of energy, varying in strength and gentleness, speed and slowness, lightness and heaviness, weaving together a magnificent, violent, and breathtaking picture full of Buddhist Zen martial arts!
Upon witnessing this scene, Kumārajīva was so excited that he almost fainted. His face flushed, his lips trembled, and he tried to shout but could not utter a sound. He could only scream in his heart: "I see it! I see it! This is the ultimate in martial arts! This is the highest realm of martial arts!"
At the very peak of this extreme chaos and splendor, the seventy-two figures suddenly merged into one.
Xuan Cheng remained standing in place, his disheveled hair flying and his robes billowing. He slowly withdrew his hand, looked at the three people opposite him with different expressions, and grinned, revealing a smile that was a mixture of madness, understanding, and boundless freedom.
The entire Wudang Mountain was completely silent.
Chapter 97 Deep Affection Across the Mountains
Behind Shaoshi Mountain, beside a secluded waterfall, the roaring water crashes against a deep pool. On the cliff next to the waterfall, a simple thatched hut stands alone.
Inside the thatched hut, a man sat cross-legged on a hard wooden couch, his aura like that of a dormant volcano, his inner strength surging, causing the air to tremble slightly. After a long while, he suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as lightning, and exhaled a long breath. Clearly, his skill had improved once again.
He rose and walked heavily outside. Not far from the doorway stood a neatly clean cenotaph. The tombstone was blank, bearing only the marks of wind and rain.
He walked to the grave, his large, fan-like hands gently stroking the cold tombstone, as if caressing a lover's cheek. He knelt down and carefully pulled out the few newly sprouted weeds around the grave, his focused and meticulous movements incongruous with his imposing, fierce appearance.
After doing all this, he sat down with his back against the tombstone and took out a leather wine flask from his pocket. He uncorked it, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp. The spicy liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't dispel the bitterness that had accumulated over thirty years.
“My dear wife,” he spoke hoarsely to the cold tombstone, as if talking to himself, or perhaps pouring out his heart, “Thirty years… I can hardly remember what you looked like when you smiled.” He paused, a hint of tender reminiscence appearing on his face, “I only vaguely remember your fierce, unforgiving manner… You were clearly a noble Khitan woman, yet you had such a sharp tongue that even I, the chief instructor of the Great Liaoshan Army, was often rendered speechless by your rebuttals.”
He took another swig of wine, his eyes glazed over, as if he had traveled through time: "From the first moment I saw you outside Yanmen Pass, my heart... has been beyond my control. What of my future as Instructor Shan, what of fame and fortune, I'm willing to give them all up. I only want to be with you, to graze horses and sing songs beyond the Great Wall, to watch the sunset over the long river, to revel in the desolate north..."
As he spoke, he suddenly turned around, wrapping his arms around the cold tombstone as if embracing a beloved. This towering man's shoulders trembled violently; the grief and loneliness suppressed for thirty years finally broke free, transforming into a low, beast-like sob: "But...but how could you bear to leave me alone! You were most afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone...What would you do if I weren't here with you? My dear mother...what am I supposed to do..."
Tears mingled with wine, dripping onto the soil in front of the grave.
Suddenly, all his vulnerability and sorrow vanished instantly, his eyes turning as cold as the icy coldest ice beyond the Great Wall, filled with deep-seated hatred and murderous intent. He released the tombstone, fiercely wiping away the tears on his face with the back of his hand, his voice becoming chillingly cold:
"My dear wife, I will be leaving for a while."
"Those who harmed you back then, those martial artists from the Central Plains, none of them will escape!"
“They killed you, they killed our people, and they even made our Feng’er recognize a Song man as his father and have our enemy as his master! They made my son kill my people! This hatred is irreconcilable!”
His fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and he exuded a palpable killing intent that seemed to freeze the surrounding air.
"They... will all be buried with you, with our people! Soon, very soon... just wait a little longer, after I've slaughtered them all, I'll come and join you! Then, we'll never be apart again!"
He took one last deep look at the wordless tombstone, as if trying to etch it into the depths of his soul, then resolutely turned around, his imposing figure disappearing into the shadows of the mountains and forests, like a vengeful demon embarking on a blood-stained journey.
Deep within the Song Dynasty imperial palace lay a palace, its vermilion paint peeling away, appearing old and secluded. No guards stood watch outside the palace gates; only the evening breeze carried a touch of eeriness. From within, the faint sounds of men and women frolicking, mingled with the wanton laughter of women, clashed horribly with the solemnity of the imperial palace.
Li Yan, the Director of the Imperial City Guard, stood bowing outside the crimson palace gate. His usually gloomy and pale face was now filled with awe, and his body was even trembling slightly, as if some primordial beast lived inside.
Inside the hall, a particularly high-pitched, seductive moan, seemingly filled with immense satisfaction, suddenly rang out, before gradually subsiding.
Li Yan took a deep breath, no longer hesitated, pushed open the door and entered. He immediately knelt down, his forehead pressed against the cold ground, not daring to raise his head.
"Get up." A languid and charming female voice came, tinged with post-coital hoarseness and satisfaction.
Li Yan then slightly raised his head, quickly scanning the scene inside the hall. He saw a man dressed in a Taoist robe, his face obscured, prostrating himself before a soft couch, his hands cupping a delicate, snow-white foot, caressing it as if it were a priceless treasure. Leaning against the couch was a woman in a long, bright red palace robe, her hair loose, her robe slightly open, her figure graceful and alluring, yet her brows exuded an air of domineering power and the authority of someone long accustomed to a high position. This extreme blend of femininity and domineering presence created a strange and dangerous allure within her.
Li Yan seemed to be used to this scene, and once again bowed his head and kowtowed, his voice extremely respectful: "This servant Li Yan pays respects to His Majesty!"
The woman in the red robe extended her slender fingers and gently traced them across the chest of the Taoist man, eliciting a suppressed groan from him that seemed to indicate great enjoyment.
“Little Yanzi,” she said, playing with the Taoist man’s hair, her voice soft yet carrying an invisible pressure, “how many years have you been with me?”
Li Yan dared not be negligent and immediately replied, "Your Majesty, I have been orphaned since childhood. I entered the palace as a eunuch at the age of eleven. I was fortunate to be favored and promoted by Your Majesty and have served Your Majesty for fifty years now!"
“Fifty years…that’s not a short time.” The Supreme Lord gently lifted the Taoist’s chin, as if admiring an object, his tone still calm. “I called you here today to give you a word of advice: don’t get too close to Wudang Mountain.”
Li Yan's heart skipped a beat, and he blurted out, "Your Majesty, why is this?"
His words stopped abruptly.
Because the Supreme One finally turned his head slowly, and his captivating phoenix eyes fell on him. There was no emotion in his eyes, but Li Yan felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and cold sweat poured down his back.
"Are you... questioning me?" Her voice was still soft, but every word was like a cold needle, piercing Li Yan's bones.
Li Yan trembled violently, banging his head on the ground, his voice filled with fear: "This servant dares not! This servant would never dare! The Supreme Lord's teachings are etched in my heart! I will never again be too close to Wudang!"
The Supreme Lord then withdrew his gaze with satisfaction, lazily leaning back on the soft couch. He waved his hand, as if shooing away a fly: "Remember that. You may leave. Do not disturb my refined pleasure."
"Yes! Yes! This servant takes his leave!" Li Yan felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and scrambled out of the crimson palace. Only when he was a hundred meters away from the palace did he dare to stop, leaning against the palace wall and panting heavily. His inner robes were completely soaked with cold sweat. Wudang... A huge unease, like a dark cloud, enveloped his heart.
Chapter 98 The Published Daoist Canon
On the Wudang Sect's plaza, the intense energy gradually dissipated, and the dust slowly settled.
Xuan Cheng stood alone in the arena, his tattered monk's robes still rustling fiercely in the invisible energy, the joyful smile on his face, a mixture of madness and sudden enlightenment, still lingering. The entire arena was silent; everyone was still immersed in the earth-shattering, godlike scene that had just unfolded.
After a long pause, Jinzha abruptly closed his mouth, rubbed his eyes hard, and turned to Yaoyao and Huangshang beside him. His voice trembled with disbelief, almost as if he were shouting, "Am I...am I seeing things? That mad beggar just now, in that instant...there were overlapping figures, seventy-two figures! It can't be real! How is that possible? Is there really someone in this world who can withstand the combined attack of Master, Grandmaster, and Grandmaster Uncle? It's unbelievable!"
Yao Yao's pretty face was solemn. Her senses were even more acute, and she said in a deep voice, "Senior brother, you didn't see wrong. It's very strange. Just now, at the moment of his outburst, the aura of his power seemed to break through some kind of shackle, increasing more than tenfold! Although it was only for a split second."
Huang Shang's gaze remained fixed on Xuan Cheng, who appeared to be insane, his eyes gleaming as if he had discovered a treasure. He spoke slowly, his voice filled with sincere admiration: "Truly...splendid and brilliant!"
He paused, looked at Jinzha and Yaoyao, and slowly said, "The world only knows that Shaolin has seventy-two unique skills, but few know that each skill has a different purpose, different methods of circulating energy, and many of them are mutually exclusive and mutually restraining. Forcing one to practice them can easily lead to qi deviation and demonic possession. However—"
Huang Shang's tone suddenly rose, filled with the excitement of revealing a truth: "However, when a person truly masters these seventy-two unique skills, understands their principles, integrates their meaning, and knows why they are so, the situation is completely different! They are no longer scattered moves that hinder each other, but rather a supreme treasure trove of martial arts that complements each other and forms a unified whole!"
He pointed to Xuancheng in the arena and explained to Jinzha, "What you just saw was not a simple afterimage. It was the embodiment of the essence of Shaolin's ultimate techniques, 'Mahayana Boundless Step' and 'Shadow Clone Technique,' which were brought to their extreme and then combined with the artistic conception of the other seventy ultimate techniques, bursting forth in an instant!"