Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils: The Successor of Bodhidharma

Page 17

Emperor Shenzong nodded in satisfaction and granted his request. "This matter is entrusted to you two to handle as appropriate. Make sure the world understands that in the martial world of the Great Song Dynasty, ultimately, it is my court that calls the shots!"

Chapter 55 The Starry Sky Immortal, Boundless Magical Power

After parting ways at Shaoshi Mountain, Qiao Feng traveled day and night, weary from his journey. Following the directions given by Abbot Xuanci, he inquired along the way and finally arrived at the Beggars' Sect's headquarters. It was a place nestled against a desolate mountain, consisting of countless simple huts and tents stretching out in a chaotic manner, yet exuding a rugged and untamed spirit. Most of the people coming and going were beggars dressed in patched hemp clothing, but each one had bright eyes and a steady gait, clearly not ordinary beggars.

Qiao Feng straightened his clothes, which were slightly disheveled from the journey, and strode towards the entrance of the main headquarters. He clasped his hands in a salute to the Beggars' Sect disciple guarding the gate and said in a booming voice, "Brother, I am Qiao Feng. I have come to pay my respects to Chief Wang Jiantong on the orders of Abbot Xuanci of Shaolin Temple. Please inform him of my arrival." After speaking, he handed over the letter of recommendation personally written by Abbot Xuanci.

Seeing Qiao Feng's imposing presence and the abbot's token in his hand, the disciple dared not be negligent. He took the token, said "Wait a moment," and quickly went inside. In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the disciple returned, his expression much more respectful: "Young Master Qiao, the Chief invites you. Please follow me."

The disciple led Qiao Feng through the bustling martial arts arena and rows of houses to a relatively quiet inner courtyard. Inside, an exquisitely crafted rockery and a babbling brook contrasted sharply with the rugged landscape outside. There stood a tall, gaunt old man in a simple grey robe, hands clasped behind his back, gazing intently at the flowing stream. His back conveyed an indescribable heaviness and weariness; this was none other than Wang Jiantong, the leader of the Beggars' Sect.

Seeing this, Qiao Feng took a deep breath, strode forward, stopped about ten feet away from the old man, clasped his hands and bowed, his voice steady and powerful, neither lacking in courtesy nor in the slightest timidity: "Junior Qiao Feng, on the orders of Abbot Xuanci of Shaolin, has come to pay respects to Chief Wang!"

Upon hearing the sound, Wang Jiantong slowly turned around. When his gaze fell upon Qiao Feng's young, resolute, and heroic face, his body trembled violently, and his eyes instantly flashed with unbelievable shock! This face... this face was exactly the same as that Khitan man who had once dominated Yanmen Pass like a god, yet ultimately showed mercy, holding a knife to his own neck before resolutely jumping off the cliff!

In that instant, Wang Jiantong felt as if he were transported back to that unbearable twilight, the screams of his comrades echoing in his ears, the cold blade against his neck, and the complex, unspoken look in the other's eyes that ultimately turned into a sigh. A surge of complex emotions welled up within him, making it hard to breathe. A mix of feelings welled up inside him, and he thought to himself, "So be it! So be it! I owe you a life, I owe you a debt of mercy. I, Wang Jiantong, am not a perfect man, but I know how to distinguish between gratitude and resentment. Seeing your son today is both karma and fate. I will repay this debt to your child!"

He suppressed his turbulent emotions, his gaze clearing as he carefully examined Qiao Feng from head to toe. The young man stood like a pine tree, his face resolute, his eyes clear and open. Facing a martial arts giant like himself, he showed no unease, only sincerity and respect. Wang Jiantong couldn't help but secretly praise, "Excellent! Truly a dragon among men, a truly upright and honorable man!" Having led the Beggars' Sect for decades, he was adept at navigating human relationships and possessed an exceptionally keen eye for people. At a glance, he sensed this young man's upright character, a rough gem unpolished, and a great sense of goodwill immediately arose in his heart.

"Chief Wang?" Qiao Feng noticed that Wang Jiantong was just staring at him without saying a word, so he couldn't help but speak up to remind him.

Wang Jiantong snapped out of his reverie, a gentle smile appearing on his face. He waved his hand, "It's nothing. Seeing your spirited appearance reminded me of an old friend." He paused, his tone becoming solemn, "Qiao Feng, I have led the Beggars' Clan for over thirty years, dedicating my life to its affairs. My only wish is for the clan's prosperity and the continuation of its chivalrous legacy. However, time waits for no one. In recent years, I have gradually felt my strength waning, and my health is not what it used to be. What is even more worrying is that I have yet to find a worthy successor to whom I can entrust this important task. I fear that if I were to pass away one day, the Beggars' Clan would be leaderless, either falling into internal strife or losing its chivalrous nature, failing my ancestors and the poor people who rely on my clan." He looked intently at Qiao Feng, "Would you be willing to become my disciple, to inherit my mantle, to protect the Beggars' Clan's foundation, to uphold justice, and to defend our country?"

Upon hearing this, Qiao Feng felt a surge of pride. Without hesitation, he knelt down, clasped his hands above his head, and spoke in a powerful and resounding voice: "A true man stands between heaven and earth, naturally obliged to serve his country, bring peace to the people, and protect our land! Chief, you have the world in your heart and are chivalrous in your spirit, which I admire greatly! Today, I am honored that you have not rejected me, and I wish to become your disciple. I will follow your teachings, do my utmost to bring glory to our sect, and never fail to live up to your high expectations and the heavy responsibility to our nation!"

"Good! Good! Good!" Wang Jiantong said "good" three times in a row, his face full of satisfaction, and reached out to help Qiao Feng up. The more he looked at him, the more satisfied he became. This young man not only had excellent aptitude, but more importantly, he had a strong sense of patriotism and a bold and open-minded character. He was the perfect candidate to inherit the position of leader of the Beggars' Sect.

"Get up." Wang Jiantong patted his shoulder, a hint of testing in his eyes. "Now that you've joined my sect, let me see what your foundation is like. Come on, go all out and attack me with all your might. Don't hold back, come at me boldly!"

"Yes! Master, be careful!" Qiao Feng's eyes flashed, knowing that his master was testing his martial arts skills and seeing if he was qualified to shoulder the heavy responsibility. His Nine Yang Divine Skill had reached the fourth level, his internal energy was self-generated, abundant and profound. In addition, the energy circulation methods and martial arts concepts taught by his elder brother Qiao Tian had long been integrated into his instincts, and now was the perfect time to unleash them!

Qiao Feng let out a low roar that shook the courtyard, startling the birds in the trees beside the artificial hill into a flurry of flight! He suddenly exerted force with his feet, the bluestone pavement cracking with a clear footprint, and his figure, like a tiger unleashed, lunged straight at Wang Jiantong! He didn't use any fancy moves, just a simple punch aimed straight at the center, the starting stance of the Shaolin Arhat Fist. But driven by his powerful Nine Yang True Qi and his tempered physique, this punch produced a whistling sound as it tore through the air, the wind from the punch fierce, causing Wang Jiantong's robes to flutter wildly!

Wang Jiantong's surprise deepened. He had thought that Qiao Feng was still young and his internal strength was limited, but he did not expect that the power of this punch was unparalleled and far exceeded that of ordinary post-natal peak martial artists! He dared not be careless. He slightly turned his body and used a move from the "Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms" that was more about skillful force. His palm force was fluctuating, trying to dissolve this huge force.

Fist and palm collided with a muffled thud. Wang Jiantong felt a surge of immense force, as hot as a raging torrent, rush through him. His arm went slightly numb, and he was even more shocked: "What domineering internal energy! It's similar to the Pure Yang style, yet even more intense and powerful than the Yang energy of Shaolin!"

Qiao Feng's punch was blocked, but his offensive continued. His mind raced: "Master's skill is unfathomable, and his palm techniques are exquisite. I cannot fight him head-on!" With this thought, his footwork changed, becoming elusive. This was a movement technique that incorporated the "Crossing the River on a Reed" principle taught by Qiao Tian. It seemed straightforward, but in reality, it avoided the sharpness of Wang Jiantong's palm strikes at the last second. At the same time, his fists rained down like raindrops, sometimes as fierce as a vajra pestle, sometimes as agile as a flower-picking finger technique. He brought out the basic martial arts of Shaolin Long Fist and Tiger-Taming Fist to the fullest extent, and also contained the subtle force of "Controlling the Crane and Capturing the Dragon". Sometimes he clashed head-on, sometimes he pulled, forcing Wang Jiantong to change his moves repeatedly.

"Boom! Crack!"

Qiao Feng's punch missed its mark, landing on a corner of the artificial hill. The hard lake stone was blasted open by the force of the punch, sending fragments flying! He stomped his foot on the ground, shattering the blue bricks, and used the momentum to continue his ascent. His momentum was like a rainbow, and he fought with increasing ferocity. The Nine Yang True Qi within his body surged endlessly, as if he had inexhaustible strength. The connection between his moves became increasingly smooth and natural, and he faintly showed a master's demeanor of mastery.

Wang Jiantong's heart was filled with shock! This young man not only possessed profound internal strength, but also astonishing combat talent. He was able to grow rapidly in battle, fusing all the martial arts he had learned into one. Such potential was simply terrifying! He had originally only used 50% of his strength, but now he had to increase it to 70% in order to steadily withstand Qiao Feng's increasingly fierce and sharp attacks.

"Good lad! You're really something!" Wang Jiantong couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, his eyes filled with praise.

Just as Qiao Feng was displaying his astonishing strength at the Beggars' Sect headquarters, a strange scene unfolded on the official road hundreds of miles away.

A large procession marched in, accompanied by the sounds of music and drums. At the head of the procession, dozens of disciples dressed in the robes of the Xingxiu Sect, each with a fawning expression, scattered flower petals while shouting in unison, their voices shrill and piercing:

"The Starry Sky Immortal possesses boundless magical power! His supernatural abilities are vast, and he reigns supreme over the Central Plains!"

"The Immortal Star Constellation, whose virtue matches Heaven and Earth! His might shakes the universe, unparalleled throughout history!"

"With the appearance of the Immortal, who can rival him! May he enjoy immortal blessings forever and live as long as the heavens!"

In the center of the procession, atop a lavishly decorated palanquin carried by eight robust disciples, sat an elderly man clad in a crimson robe embroidered with poisonous insects. His face was sinister, his eyes gleaming with a sharp light. He held a goose-feather fan, which he casually waved with feigned nonchalance. This was none other than Ding Chunqiu, the Starry Constellation Old Monster. He listened to the unbridled flattery of his disciples, a look of extreme pleasure on his face. His eyes narrowed, a reserved yet hypocritical smile playing on his lips, as if he were truly a sage descended to earth.

His purpose in leaving the mountain this time was to target Wudang in northern Hubei! He wanted to find out the true strength of Wuyazi, meet the arrogant Wudang leader Qiao Tian, ​​and take this opportunity to make the Xingxiu Sect's reputation resound throughout the Central Plains! As for those so-called famous sects, in his eyes, Xingxiu Laoxian was nothing but a bunch of worthless idiots!

Chapter 56 Wu Yazi, whose life was never inferior to anyone

The day before the founding ceremony of the Wudang School.

The once quiet mountain gate became bustling with activity due to the successive arrivals of the nine heavens and nine divisions of Lingjiu Palace. These elite women, usually scattered across the country, were now all dressed in uniform blue Taoist robes. Although they could not conceal the heroic and fierce aura between their brows, their movements were orderly and highly efficient. They hung lanterns and colorful ribbons, arranged incense tables and prayer cushions, and inspected various passages and checkpoints, keeping the vast Zhenwu Hall square and surrounding area in perfect order, with a festive joy permeating the solemn atmosphere.

Inside the sect leader's residence, Qiao Tian stood quietly. Cheng Qingshuang and Fu Minyi were carefully adjusting his attire. Cheng Qingshuang meticulously smoothed every wrinkle in his new sky-blue Daoist robe, her movements gentle and focused; Fu Minyi stood behind him, her nimble fingers weaving through his thick black hair, tying it into a neat Daoist bun and inserting a simple white jade hairpin.

Qiao Tian gazed at the young figure in the mirror—a Daoist robe, with clear features yet an underlying air of authority—and felt a momentary daze. Time had flown by; nineteen years had passed since he transmigrated to this world. From a naive child at the foot of Shaoshi Mountain to the soon-to-be founder of a sect, everything seemed like yesterday. This world had given him a new life, but also unbreakable bonds—his parents, his younger brother Qiao Feng, his master Wuyazi, his cold-faced but warm-hearted senior uncle, and the soon-to-be-born Wudang dynasty. He took a deep breath, a resolute glint in his eyes. What he could do, and what he had to do, was to protect everything.

Fu Minyi respectfully presented Qiao Tian with an elegantly designed, snow-white whisk, the headmaster's whisk. Qiao Tian took it, its surface warm to the touch. He then habitually tucked the jade flute he had carried with him for many years into the lower back of his Taoist robe. The whisk symbolized his future responsibilities, while the jade flute carried the memories of his journey.

After tidying himself up, Qiao Tian stepped out of his room and onto the plaza in front of the Zhenwu Hall. He saw that all the disciples who had already entered the sect, including Su Xinghe's lineage of disciples and grand-disciples proficient in various arts, and even all the personnel of the Nine Heavens and Nine Departments of Lingjiu Palace, had all changed into the distinctive Wudang Daoist robes. This was naturally a special request from Wu Xingyun. Although it wasn't explicitly stated, Qiao Tian understood. This senior master, though cold on the outside, was warm on the inside. This action was not only to maintain the solemnity of Wudang's founding, but perhaps, on a deeper level, it was also to provide a respectable facade for her proud junior brother, Wuyazi. Looking at the newly recruited disciples before him, though only a few dozen in number, the group already possessed a considerable size and a new aura. Qiao Tian felt no impatience. He knew that as long as tomorrow's ceremony went smoothly, the name of Wudang would spread far and wide, and those who came seeking fame would flock to it. Therefore, tomorrow's battle was of paramount importance.

He strolled to the cliff behind the mountain. Here, clouds and mist swirled, offering a wide and unobstructed view. Beneath an ancient sycamore tree, Wu Yazi sat cross-legged on the ground. A cool autumn breeze blew, and golden leaves drifted gently down. A wisp of sandalwood incense rose from the table before him. At that moment, he was gently strumming the strings of his zither, and melodies flowed forth.

The music, at first listen, was peaceful and serene, like a spring dripping from a deep valley, or the gentle undulation of pine trees under the moon, carrying a tranquility washed clean of worldly cares. But upon closer listening, one could sense a profound power hidden within that tranquility, like turbulent undercurrents beneath a calm sea, or the vast and boundless depths of the starry sky. The music contained recollections of past glories, a sense of resentment at being imprisoned, but even more so, a clarity and transcendence born of hardship, and… a subtle, almost imperceptible, expectation for rebirth.

On the cliff edge, Wu Xingyun, dressed in red, stood with her hands behind her back, gazing at the distant, rolling mountains and churning sea of ​​clouds. Her petite figure, against the vast backdrop of heaven and earth, did not appear small, but rather possessed an aloof and exquisite beauty, seemingly detached from the world. She seemed immersed in the music, or perhaps conversing with the heavens and earth. Qiao Tian, ​​watching from afar, felt that his master playing the zither and his senior master gazing into the distance created a scene of profound beauty, like a divine painting. A thought suddenly arose in his mind: In this world, if we're talking about someone who is deeply devoted to their master and unwavering in their loyalty, perhaps only this eccentric senior master could do it!

Qiao Tian concealed his aura, stepped forward slowly, and bowed respectfully: "Disciple greets Master and Grand Master Uncle."

Wu Yazi lightly pressed his fingertips on the strings, and the lingering sound faded away. He raised his head, smiling at Qiao Tian, ​​his gaze gentle: "Tian'er, you've come. What do you think of my playing?"

Qiao Tian answered truthfully: "Master's zither skills have reached a state of perfection, with profound artistic conception. At first listen, it is like a secluded valley and deep mountains, calming the mind; upon closer listening, it is like a boundless ocean tide, with hidden power. Your disciple admires you."

Wu Yazi smiled slightly, a hint of reminiscence and pride flashing in his eyes: "Throughout my life, apart from this martial art, what I am most proud of is my knowledge of music, chess, calligraphy, painting, medicine, divination, astrology, swordsmanship, fist techniques, and the art of divination and escape. I have dabbled in all of these and have been proud of them. These decades of being confined to my crippled body have not been entirely wasted. In these miscellaneous studies, I have gained some insights into tranquility."

He changed the subject, his gaze becoming serious: "Yesterday I saw you break through the Nine Yang Shackles and find a new path, integrating Taoism with Buddhism. I was deeply moved. Tian'er, today I wish to ask you for a unique skill."

Qiao Tian solemnly replied, "Master, you flatter me. I will obey any command. May I ask what kind of martial arts Master wishes to see?"

Wu Yazi slowly uttered four words: "Shaolin Lion's Roar!"

Although Qiao Tian was surprised, he didn't ask any questions. He immediately focused his mind and explained in detail the principles of Shaolin Lion's Roar, the route of true qi circulation, the techniques of sound wave vibration, and the key to integrating spiritual will into the roar. He explained it in a simple and easy-to-understand way, and Wu Yazi listened very attentively. His slender hands unconsciously pressed on the strings of the zither, as if simulating some kind of rhythm.

Whether it was a misperception or not, Qiao Tian felt that his master's aura was undergoing a subtle change. An indescribable "Daoist charm" began to flow around him, gradually merging with the guqin in front of him, the mountain wind, the fallen leaves, and the sea of ​​clouds.

Clang... Clang... Clang...

Suddenly, Wu Yazi flicked his fingers and produced a string of clear notes, like the opening gesture of an ancient piece of music.

At first, Qiao Tian only found the music simple and beautiful, and his mind was involuntarily drawn in, rising and falling with the melody. However, in a certain instant, the music suddenly changed! It was no longer peaceful and gentle, but became fierce and ruthless! The air seemed to be filled with invisible blades, and wisps of murderous aura burst forth from the strings, permeating the entire cliff platform!

Qiao Tian, ​​standing at the center of this sonic field, felt faint, crackling sounds coming from all around him, seemingly out of nowhere! It was his master using his supreme power to unleash his true energy along with the music, transforming it into an invisible yet incredibly sharp attack! What flowed from his fingertips was the pure power he had accumulated over seventy years; wherever the music went, killing intent lurked!

Wu Xingyun, who was standing to the side, had already turned around and was gazing intently at Wu Yazi, who was playing the zither. Her beautiful eyes were filled with admiration as she murmured softly, "Junior brother... I knew it. Your talent is second to none! These decades of silence have not dulled your brilliance!"

Qiao Tian was utterly shocked! He witnessed firsthand how leaves falling in the distance were silently shattered by the sound waves, several weeds instantly turned to dust, pebbles on the ground exploded with a bang, and even a few birds that happened to be flying by suddenly trembled in mid-air and plummeted straight down! This was no longer just simple music, but a supreme art that perfectly combined profound internal strength, sonic techniques, personal emotions, and the rhythms of heaven and earth! He had never imagined that sonic techniques could be combined with music to such an inconceivable degree!

As the music ended, all was silent. Only the mountain wind continued to blow, carrying away faint bits of grass and wood.

Wu Yazi slowly withdrew his hand, smoothed the strings, and let out a long sigh. A long-lost blush appeared on his face, as if he had released the pent-up emotions of the past few decades with the music. He looked at Qiao Tian, ​​his eyes filled with questioning, and also with a hint of undisguised pride.

Qiao Tian remained silent for a long time, finally bowing deeply: "Master's skill is close to the Dao! This disciple...is in awe!"

Chapter 57 Responding to Shaolin

The sparring in the training ground had ended. Wang Jiantong stood with his hands behind his back, looking at Qiao Feng, who was slightly out of breath but whose eyes were becoming increasingly bright. His face was full of undisguised admiration. This young man's talent and character were truly unparalleled in his life.

“Feng’er, your foundation is far more solid than I expected.” Wang Jiantong said slowly, “Right now you are new to the gang and do not know many things, so just focus on learning martial arts from me and don’t worry about the gang’s mundane affairs for the time being.”

Qiao Feng clasped his hands and bowed, his voice booming, "Yes, Master! This disciple will obey your orders!"

Wang Jiantong nodded slightly, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes before turning into resolute determination. He took out a slightly old-fashioned thread-bound book from his robes, the cover bearing the five characters "Twenty-Eight Subduing Dragon Palms" written in vigorous strokes. He solemnly handed the book to Qiao Feng.

"Feng'er, now that you have joined my sect, I will naturally impart all my knowledge to you. I hope you will diligently practice and live up to my expectations, the Beggars' Sect's trust, and the people of the world. This palm technique is the Beggars' Sect's supreme martial art, unparalleled in its power and ferocity, rarely matched in the world. However, because it is extremely forceful and yang, it lacks the agility and variation of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique. Therefore, the founding patriarch established a rule that the Dog-Beating Staff Technique is a secret passed down only to the sect leader, and no one but the sect leader may practice it. Today, I will pass on the Twenty-Eight Subduing Dragon Palms to you. Study it carefully, and if you have any questions, you may come to me at any time."

Qiao Feng accepted the manual with both hands, feeling its weight. He knew it was an unparalleled martial art, and a great trust and responsibility from his master. A sense of pride and responsibility welled up in his heart, and he solemnly said, "This disciple will definitely cultivate diligently and never fail my master's kindness!"

Without saying another word, Wang Jiantong immediately demonstrated the first three moves of the Twenty-Eight Subduing Dragon Palms in the training ground. His palms whistled and his energy was immense, sometimes like a dragon emerging from the abyss, sometimes like a dragon appearing in the field. Although he only demonstrated the essence of the moves and did not use his full strength, Qiao Feng was already captivated and deeply felt the supreme power contained within.

After the rehearsal, Wang Jiantong explained in detail the methods of circulating qi and the essentials of the moves, then told Qiao Feng to go and practice them on his own. Qiao Feng bowed and took his leave, then strode away.

However, Qiao Feng had only taken a few steps when Wang Jiantong suddenly seemed to remember something. He looked intently at Qiao Feng and asked loudly, "Feng'er, I have something to ask you. Who is Qiao Tian to you?"

Qiao Feng turned around, straightened his chest, and said with pride, "Reporting to Master, Qiao Tianzheng is my elder brother!"

"As expected..." Wang Jiantong sighed inwardly, "It really was him!" He forced a knowing smile and waved his hand, saying, "So that's how it is. No wonder you two brothers are both outstanding individuals. It's alright, you can go now."

Qiao Feng noticed that his master seemed unwilling to have a deeper conversation. Although he found it a bit strange, he didn't dare to ask any more questions. He bowed again and then withdrew.

Watching Qiao Feng's departing figure, Wang Jiantong's smile gradually faded, replaced by a solemn expression. He remained silent for a moment, then beckoned to his trusted disciple standing not far away. The disciple quickly stepped forward.

Wang Jiantong lowered his voice and said sternly, "Pass on my order: regarding the matter of Shaolin joining forces with my Beggars' Sect and many other sects to go to Wudang to question and punish Qiao Tian, ​​no one in the sect is allowed to mention a single word about it in front of Qiao Feng! Anyone who leaks this information will be punished according to the sect rules!"

The disciple's heart skipped a beat. Although he didn't understand why, he immediately bowed and replied, "Yes, Master! I understand!"

Having given his orders, Wang Jiantong's eyes flashed with a cold light, and he said in a deep voice, "Sound the Gathering Drum! Summon all the elders and branch leaders to the main hall for a meeting!"

A moment later, in the Beggars' Sect's main council hall, the sect's high-ranking members were gathered. Elder Lu Zhang, the Transmission Elder, Elder Bai Shijing, Elder Song, Elder Xi, Elder Chen, Elder Wu, and others were all present. They had already heard rumors of the Wudang incident, and seeing the sect leader summon them, they knew that a major decision must be made.

Wang Jiantong sat upright in the main seat, his gaze sweeping across the entire room, his voice deep and powerful: "Brothers, you must all be aware of this. Abbot Xuanci of Shaolin has sent an invitation to our Beggars' Clan to join us at Wudang to deal with the traitor Qiao Tian! This boy, a lay disciple of Shaolin, has presumptuously established himself within the Daoist sect, disregarding the rules of the martial world. Moreover, he possesses Shaolin's ultimate martial arts skills. This is truly a provocation against our righteous martial world! As the number one clan in the world, our Beggars' Clan prioritizes chivalry; how can we sit idly by?"

Bai Shijing immediately chimed in, "The gang leader is absolutely right! That brat Qiao Tian is ignorant of his own limitations and must be severely punished as a warning to others!"

Elder Song stroked his beard and said, "Since Shaolin has taken the lead, our Beggars' Sect should naturally respond and uphold the order of the martial arts world. It is our duty!"

The elders echoed their sentiments, and the crowd was filled with excitement.

Seeing that everyone agreed, Wang Jiantong suddenly stood up and resolutely said, "Very well! In that case, immediately gather the elite disciples, and I, the leader of the gang, will personally lead the team, with all the elders going together! We will depart for Wudang tomorrow to respond to Shaolin!"

"As the leader commands!" the crowd responded in unison, their voices shaking the rooftops.

Meanwhile, the official roads and paths leading to Wudang Mountain in northern Hubei became unusually lively. All sorts of martial arts figures, whether on horseback or on foot, in small groups or alone, were all heading in the same direction.

The teahouses, taverns, and rest stops along the way were packed with people. Amidst the flying spittle, almost everyone was talking about the same thing—who was Qiao Tian, ​​the founder of the Wudang School?

A burly man with a ghost-head saber at his waist took a big gulp of cheap liquor and sneered, "Pah! What Wudang Sect? Never even heard of it! What kind of bastard is Qiao Tian? Trying to start a sect like that? He probably doesn't even know how to spell 'death'!"

A skinny man next to him chimed in, "I heard he's just a greenhorn. He used to be a lay disciple of Shaolin Temple. I don't know what stroke of luck he had to learn a few skills and dare to be so arrogant! Now that Shaolin and the Beggars' Sect are both here, let's see how he gets out of this mess!"

"Hey, isn't he just desperate for fame?" A man who looked like a seasoned veteran shook his head. "In this world of martial arts, there are always reckless people jumping around, only to end up smashed to pieces. We're just here to watch the show and see how this hothead gets taught a lesson by the Shaolin monks and the Beggars' Sect heroes!"

"Exactly! Does he even deserve to send us an invitation? Although my Green Snake Gang isn't big, we're still a force to be reckoned with in the underworld! If we didn't want to see the prestige of the Shaolin Beggars' Gang, who would bother going to his poor mountain village?"

Similar voices echoed at various rest stops, filled with disdain, skepticism, and schadenfreude. It was as if Qiao Tian and the Wudang Sect had become synonymous with a joke in the martial arts world.

On the border, sandstorms began to rise. A group of men dressed in Western Xia attire, exuding a fierce aura, quietly gathered. The four leaders, each with a different appearance, all emanated a chilling murderous aura; they were none other than the infamous "Four Evils": the wicked Duan Yanqing, the ruthless Ye Erniang, the ferocious Crocodile God of the South Sea, and the vicious Yun Zhonghe.

In addition, there were more than ten top-notch fighters with bulging temples and sharp eyes, all of whom were elites recruited by Xixia Yipintang.

A Western Xia warrior, who appeared to be the leader, gave a solemn order: "By order of the Imperial Consort! Our mission is to infiltrate Song territory and secretly infiltrate the area around Wudang Mountain. All actions must prioritize the safety of the Imperial Consort, while closely monitoring the movements of Wudang and acting as needed! Our identities must not be revealed!"

The group whispered their acceptance, then split into smaller groups and, like ghosts, disappeared into the shadows of the forest, stealthily making their way towards Wudang Mountain.

Along the official road, a solemn procession was proceeding at a leisurely pace. In the center of the procession, a magnificent sedan chair carried by eight men stood out conspicuously.

Inside the sedan chair, soft brocade cushions were laid out, and a faint scent of sandalwood incense wafted through the air. Li Yan, the eunuch and head of the Imperial City Guard, leaned languidly against the soft pillows. His face was pale and beardless, his eyes gentle and brilliance unsettling. In his hand, he held a fine embroidery needle, as thin as a cow's hair, and with swift, deft stitches, he embroidered an extremely intricate and exquisite dragon and phoenix motif on a brocade handkerchief. His movements were gentle and delicate, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the guards outside the sedan chair.

The eunuch standing to the side didn't even dare to breathe loudly.

After finishing the last stitch, Li Yan gently blew away non-existent dust from the handkerchief, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. He murmured in his uniquely effeminate voice, "Wudang Mountain... Qiao Tian... Heh, the waters of the martial world are getting increasingly murky. His Majesty's move is brilliant... I'd like to see what kind of young hero deserves such 'favor' from the court..."

He gently set down the embroidery, lifted a corner of the sedan curtain, and gazed towards Wudang Mountain, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. The procession continued its journey towards the mountains where storms were about to break.

Chapter 58 Compensation Based on Deaths

As the sun rises, its golden rays bathe Wudang Mountain. In the Zhenwu Hall square, everything is arranged solemnly and respectfully, banners fluttering and incense tables set up. Along the stone steps leading up the mountain, disciples of the Lingjiu Palace, dressed in green robes, stand ready, preparing tea and refreshments for the arriving guests, their manners impeccable, awaiting visitors from all directions.

Qiao Tian stood before the hall. Heeding the advice of his grandmaster, Uncle Wu Xingyun, that "a sect leader should have a dignified bearing and be different from others," he did not wear the usual blue or gray Daoist robe, but instead chose a dark black one. This black Daoist robe was embroidered with simple cloud patterns in dark silver thread, which made his figure appear even more upright. His face was like jade, his brows were calm and reserved, and his eyes flashed with a sharp light. He possessed the aura of a grandmaster who was profound and imposing, which was admirable.

He personally pushed Wu Yazi's wheelchair into the main hall. Taking advantage of the quiet before the guests arrived, Qiao Tian lit three sticks of fine sandalwood incense and respectfully handed them to Wu Yazi. Wu Yazi, with a solemn expression, silently prayed for a moment before the statues of the "Three Pure Ones" (Yuqing Yuanshi Tianzun, Shangqing Lingbao Tianzun, and Taiqing Daode Tianzun) enshrined in the hall. Then, Qiao Tian placed the incense sticks in the burner on his behalf. The rising smoke symbolized the Wudang Sect's founding principle of respecting Tao and venerating the profound.

Afterwards, Qiao Tian arranged for Su Xinghe to carefully push his master back to the quiet room in the back hall to rest, so as to avoid the noise in the front hall.

Just then, a sharp and long voice suddenly rang out from the mountain gate, piercing through the morning mist and clearly reaching the ears of everyone in the square:

"Li Yan, the Imperial City Guard Supervisor, has arrived!"

Before the words had even faded, a group of people moved like ghosts, bypassing the stone steps and instead using their light-footed skills to lightly touch the treetops and rock walls, swiftly leaping up the mountain as if walking on flat ground, and landing steadily in the center of the Zhenwu Hall plaza. The group's light-footed skills revealed an extremely high level of cultivation, immediately causing the busy Wudang disciples and Lingjiu Palace members on the plaza to feel a chill in their hearts. The imperial envoys were indeed no ordinary people.

Qiao Tian's gaze sharpened, knowing that the imperial court was trying to gain the upper hand and flex its muscles. His expression remained unchanged as he whispered to Su Xinghe beside him, "Take good care of Master," before pacing alone to meet the imposing imperial entourage.

The group stood in formation, and a young eunuch strode forward, unfurled a roll of bright yellow silk, and announced in a shrill voice, "Qiao Tian, ​​the leader of the Wudang Sect, receives the imperial decree—!"

Qiao Tianyi knelt on one knee, and the Wudang disciples and Lingjiu Palace members behind him also knelt down.

The young eunuch read aloud: "By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Qiao Tian of Wudang Mountain in northern Hubei, possessing extraordinary talents and standing out from the crowd, has established a sect in this secluded mountain retreat to promote Taoism. I am greatly pleased. Therefore, I hereby grant permission for the Wudang Sect to be established here, incorporated into the ranks of sects within the territory of the Great Song Dynasty, and granted legitimate status. I expect you to uphold the laws of the land, guide people towards goodness, and protect the peace of this region. So be it!"

The imperial edict was brief, mainly acknowledging the legitimacy of the Wudang Sect, and clearly intended to win them over.

"Qiao Tian, ​​accept the imperial decree and express your gratitude." Qiao Tian calmly accepted the imperial decree and stood up.

At this moment, the curtain of the magnificent sedan chair was lifted, and an old eunuch with a pale face, no beard, and a sharp, sinister gaze slowly stepped down. It was Li Yan, the Director of the Imperial City Guard. Behind him followed three middle-aged men dressed in close-fitting clothes, with piercing eyes and bulging temples. Their auras were steady and refined, and they were clearly top-notch experts. These were obviously people arranged by Zhou Tong to test Qiao Tian's strength.

Li Yan looked Qiao Tian up and down with a forced smile, and his high-pitched voice rang out: "Sect Leader Qiao is so young, yet he has already built such a foundation. He is truly a force to be reckoned with. The Emperor's grace is boundless. I hope Sect Leader Qiao will not fail His Majesty's expectations."

Qiao Tian, ​​neither humble nor arrogant, cupped his hands and said, "The purpose of Wudang Sect is to cultivate oneself, help the world and assist people. We should abide by the laws of the Great Song Dynasty, be loyal to the imperial orders, and protect the righteous path of China. This is the foundation of our sect."