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

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

Author: Yi Yi's Treasure

Synopsis: [Wuxia] [Time Travel] [Xiao Feng] [Shaolin Temple] [Nine Yang Divine Skill] [Brotherhood] [Rebirth]

【brief introduction】

I transmigrated into the body of Qiao Feng's brother, started by cultivating in Shaolin Temple, and immediately reached the maximum level upon exiting seclusion.

Having mastered all seventy-two martial arts techniques, who else but me can reach the pinnacle of martial arts?

I will rewrite my brother's tragedy; I will dominate the world of martial arts.

This book is a tragic tale of protection and sacrifice, not a wish-fulfillment story of overwhelming power. The Nine Yang Divine Skill is not adapted from the new version of the Nine Yin Manual. The plot does not follow the original work! Enter at your own risk if you dislike this style.

Chapter 1 The Qiao Brothers

The morning mist over Shaoshi Mountain had not yet dissipated, and the moist air was filled with the fragrance of grass and trees.

Qiao Tian sat cross-legged on the threshold, his gaze piercing through the thin mist and landing on the small figure practicing horse stance in the courtyard.

The child was about six or seven years old, with thick eyebrows and big eyes. Even though he was still quite young, the outline of his future heroic spirit was already faintly revealed in his brows. He was extremely stable, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead, but his body remained as still as a pine tree, and his eyes were focused and stubborn.

That's his younger brother, Qiao Feng.

—This is also the future leader of the Beggars' Sect, Xiao Feng, who would later become famous throughout the world but ultimately shed blood at Yanmen Pass.

Qiao Tian looked down at his hands, which were rougher than those of his peers due to years of secret training. He had been in this world for seven years, as the son of Qiao Sanhuai and his wife. From the initial shock and bewilderment to the current clarity and anxiety, he had always been gripped by a sense of powerlessness.

He harbors a soul from another world, and even more terrifyingly, he knows all the turbulent events, joys and sorrows of his younger brother's future. The bloody battle at Juxianzhuang, the suicide by broken arrow outside Yanmen Pass... those events that once only existed on paper have now become a sharp blade hanging over his heart.

"Tian'er, Feng'er, dinner's ready!" The mother's gentle voice came from inside the house.

Hearing the sound, Qiao Feng stopped his attack, wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, and rushed to Qiao Tian. He grinned, revealing his white teeth and bright eyes: "Brother, let's eat! Mother steamed some buns!"

His eyes were filled with complete innocence and trust; he was unaware of his own background, let alone the cruel joke fate had played on him.

Qiao Tian silently got up and, as usual, reached out to brush the grass clippings and dust off his trouser legs.

He has done this action a thousand times, like a silent vow, small in itself, yet it is the only protection he can currently offer.

The meal was simple: brown rice porridge, steamed buns, and a dish of pickled vegetables. Qiao Sanhuai, a man of few words, simply broke the largest bun in half and handed it to the two of them.

"Eat more, and you'll gain strength."

Qiao Feng accepted the food, thanked him, and ate with gusto.

Qiao Tian, ​​however, had no appetite and kept glancing at his younger brother beside him.

He knew that soon Master Xuanku would recognize his younger brother's talent and secretly teach him martial arts. His brother's fate would begin to change from there.

What should he do?

With his prophetic abilities, what could a seven-year-old child like him possibly do?

Reveal the truth? Not to mention who would believe a child's words, if we rashly expose it, we might only bring disaster upon ourselves.

Should they flee with their family in the future? What if, a few years later, Xiao Yuanshan learns that his younger brother is living in this farmhouse? Would he allow them to escape then?

Every path seemed to lead to a dead end. Despite having foresight, he was trapped by his frail body and the world's power struggles. Knowing that the mountain was about to collapse, he was powerless to reverse the situation—this suffocating feeling almost swallowed him up.

"Brother, why aren't you eating?" Qiao Feng had already finished his portion and was staring longingly at the almost untouched steamed bun in Qiao Tian's hand.

Qiao Tian suddenly snapped out of his reverie and met his younger brother's clear yet worried gaze. Those eyes held unwavering trust.

In an instant, a corner of the anxiety in my chest was melted away by the heat.

This is not a character from the book, but his younger brother who has been with him since childhood.

He suddenly clenched his fist, as if he had made up his mind to no longer hesitate or be confused.

—Since I came into this world, since I am his elder brother.

—This fate, I cannot defy!

He stuffed his other steamed bun into Qiao Feng's hand, his tone calm and deep: "You eat it, one is enough for me."

After saying that, he jumped off the bench and walked out of the courtyard.

"Brother, where are you going?"

Qiao Tian did not turn around. His voice was not loud, but every word was like a nail, resounding and forceful.

He walked to the corner of the courtyard and, in front of the self-made stone lock and wooden bar, began to work on his still-young body once more.

The stance is still clumsy, and the strength is still weak.

But in his eyes, an indomitable determination had already hardened.

The road ahead is difficult, almost impossible.

However, he had no other way out.

Since Heaven has ordained me to be the elder brother, then this raging torrent—

Chapter 2 I only wish for a life of quiet contemplation and Buddhist practice, and I beseech the Master to grant my wish.

Life at the foot of Shaoshi Mountain was simple yet peaceful, flowing quietly like a mountain stream. Qiao Tian felt that day after day, the worry in his eyes grew more urgent and profound.

He continued to watch Qiao Feng practice horsemanship and boxing every day, listen to the footsteps of his father Qiao Sanhuai returning from chopping wood, and smell the aroma of coarse grains wafting from his mother's kitchen. All these ordinary yet warm daily routines became the pure land he was willing to protect with everything he had.

Qiao Feng was naturally open-minded. Although he noticed that his brother had become more silent and was practicing his skills more diligently, his childlike nature quickly led him to be drawn to the interesting things happening in the mountains. He especially liked to pester Qiao Tian.

"Brother, do you think I'm doing the 'Black Tiger Steals the Heart' move correctly?" Little Qiao Feng demonstrated the crude, common move with great skill, but it was full of flaws despite its impressive appearance.

Qiao Tian put down the stone lock he was using to practice his finger strength, examined it carefully for a moment, then stepped forward. Without saying much, he simply reached out and supported Qiao Tian's elbow, then tapped Qiao Tian's trembling knee.

Qiao Feng was taken aback, then suddenly understood. He adjusted his posture as instructed, and sure enough, his lower body became much more stable, and his power flowed more smoothly. His eyes lit up, and he grinned, "Brother, you're amazing! You don't practice any moves, yet you know more than I do!"

Qiao Tian simply shook his head and handed over a bowl of water. His only advantage was that the person was several decades older than his actual age—a lucky accident.

In the afternoons, the two brothers often went up the mountain to chop firewood or pick wild fruits. Qiao Feng was agile, leaping and climbing like a monkey, always finding the sweetest wild berries and the plumpest wood ear mushrooms. Whenever he had a harvest, he would eagerly give it to Qiao Tian.

"Brother, this is sweet, you eat it!" He opened his palm, and a few purplish-red berries made his little hands look even darker, but his smile was brighter than the sun.

Qiao Tian looked at the few fruits that had been squeezed slightly out of shape, then at his younger brother's expectant eyes, silently took them, and put them in his mouth. The sweet and sour juice spread between his lips and teeth, its sweetness seeping into his heart. This was the most authentic taste he had ever experienced in this world.

Mr. and Mrs. Qiao doted on their two sons. Qiao Sanhuai was a man of few words, often sitting by the doorway drinking a few sips of sake, watching Qiao Feng play with his older brother, a contented smile appearing on his honest face. Mrs. Qiao was even more meticulous, always folding the clean coarse cloth clothes neatly, secretly sharing the extra fine grains she saved with her two children, and mending the torn corners of their clothes by the light of an oil lamp at night.

The oil lamp cast a dim, yellowish light, projecting the shadows of the family of four onto the earthen wall, warm and vast. Sometimes, Qiao Tian would gaze at those shadows, lost in thought—this was home. It was the most precious treasure he had unexpectedly obtained through time travel, and the family he was determined to protect with everything he had.

However, what is bound to happen will eventually happen.

One day, the two brothers were gathering firewood at the edge of the forest. Suddenly, they heard steady footsteps coming from deep within the woods, unhurried yet containing a calming power.

Qiao Tian's heart tightened suddenly, and he looked up abruptly.

An elderly monk in grey robes emerged slowly. His face was gaunt, his eyes clear and profound, seemingly able to see through people's hearts, yet carrying a gentle compassion for all beings. He held prayer beads in his hand, and his movements were naturally graceful, clearly indicating that he possessed superior martial arts skills.

It was none other than the eminent Shaolin monk, Master Xuanku.

Qiao Feng also saw the old monk. His childlike nature made him stop what he was doing, and he stared at him with wide eyes, curious but without any fear.

Xuan Ku's gaze swept over the two children, lingering briefly on Qiao Feng, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. He could tell that this child had exceptional talent, a martial arts prodigy rarely seen in a century, and even more remarkable was his clear eyes and righteous spirit.

His gaze then fell on Qiao Tian beside him, only to find the slightly older boy staring intently at him, his eyes filled with awe, but also with a deep-seated struggle…

Xuan Ku felt a little surprised and put his palms together, saying, "Amitabha, young benefactors, this humble monk greets you."

Qiao Feng mimicked the greeting and returned the greeting: "Greetings, Master!"

Qiao Tian remained standing, his body slightly tense.

Xuan Ku smiled slightly, looked at Qiao Feng, and said gently, "Young benefactor, this humble monk sees that you have extraordinary talent. Would you be willing to become a lay disciple of Shaolin and learn martial arts from this humble monk to strengthen your body, so that you can protect this region in the future?"

Qiao Feng's eyes lit up instantly. He was naturally fond of martial arts, and although he didn't understand why, he felt that this old monk was convincing. He subconsciously looked at Qiao Tian, ​​as if wanting to ask his brother's opinion.

Hearing the voice, Qiao Sanhuai and his wife came out of the house. Seeing that it was a high-ranking monk from Shaolin, they immediately became respectful. Hearing that the master intended to take Qiao Feng as his disciple, and that he was a layperson, they were both surprised and delighted. Shaolin held a revered position in the hearts of the people; this was truly an immense opportunity.

"Master, this...this is truly Feng'er's good fortune!" Qiao Sanhuai rubbed his hands, so excited he was incoherent. Qiao's mother also nodded repeatedly, tears welling up in her eyes.

Everyone thought that luck had smiled upon Qiao Feng.

Just then, Qiao Tian, ​​who had been silent all along, moved.

Amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd, he suddenly took a step forward and walked straight up to Xuan Ku—

With a "thud," his knees slammed heavily into the dust!

"Heavens!" Mr. and Mrs. Qiao Sanhuai exclaimed in shock.

Qiao Feng was also stunned, staring blankly at his brother.

Qiao Tian raised his head, his gaze meeting Xuan Ku's slightly surprised eyes. His voice was clear yet carried an undeniable firmness, even trembling slightly.

"Master! I beg you to have mercy and accept me as your disciple into Shaolin!"

Once the words were spoken, all was silent.

Qiao Sanhuai was the first to react and hurriedly stepped forward to help him up: "Tian'er! What nonsense are you talking about! Get up! How can you become a monk?"

Qiao's mother panicked, tears streaming down her face: "Tian'er, my son, what's wrong with you? Are you possessed? We're living a peaceful life as a family, why do you suddenly want to become a monk?"

Qiao Feng ran over and grabbed Qiao Tian's arm: "Brother, if you go to Shaolin, who will practice martial arts with me? Who will pick fruit with me? I don't want you to leave!"

Faced with his family's panic, tears, and pleas for him to stay, Qiao Tian felt as if his heart was being torn apart, his nails digging deep into his palms. But he knew this was the only opportunity he could seize! Only by entering Shaolin could he gain power more quickly, and only then… could he have a better chance to protect himself and his family in the future!

He couldn't explain, couldn't articulate it. He could only ignore his parents' tearful eyes and kowtow to Xuanku once more, his forehead touching the cold ground:

“Master, I wish to comprehend the Dharma, to liberate myself… and others! I beg you to grant my request!” He uttered a reason that even he found absurd, hoping only to move the high monk.

Xuan Ku's deep gaze was fixed on the kneeling boy before him. He could see that the boy's willpower was far stronger than that of his peers, and that his words just now were not a joke.

Taking one is the same as taking two. This young man seems aloof, but he possesses a burning passion within; perhaps he truly is a person destined for Buddhism?

In the midst of sorrow and silence, Xuanku spoke slowly, his voice as still as water, yet carrying a resolute power:

"Amitabha. Young benefactor, do you know what it means to take refuge in Buddhism?"

Qiao Tian raised his head, his gaze as firm as a rock: "This disciple understands."

Xuanku gazed at him for a moment, then slowly nodded: "In that case, I will take you back to the temple. As for whether you can be truly ordained, that depends on your future practice and affinity with Buddhism."

"Thank you, Master!" Qiao Tian kowtowed again, feeling a huge weight lifted from his heart, but his chest ached terribly—he heard his mother's suppressed sobs, his father's heavy sighs, and his younger brother's bewildered sobs behind him.

He knew that he had personally torn apart this warm feeling.

But he has no regrets.

To protect this warmth, he was willing to step into the cold night first.

Chapter 3 Entering Shaolin

Master Xuanku gazed at the boy, then his gaze swept over the anxious Qiao Sanhuai couple, and then over Qiao Feng, who was clutching his brother's sleeve and had red eyes. He nodded slightly, indicating that they should not panic.

Then, his steady gaze fell back on Qiao Tian, ​​his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority, sounding less like a discussion and more like a statement of a predetermined arrangement:

“Amitabha. Since you have this intention, this old monk will lead you into the temple.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the expressions on Qiao Sanhuai and his wife's faces became even more complicated.

Master Xuanku continued, his tone turning solemn: "However, the temple has its rules. You entered Shaolin not as my personal disciple, but merely as an ordinary servant monk. From now on, you must strictly abide by the rules. Sweeping the courtyard, carrying water, chopping wood, chanting scriptures, and worshipping Buddha are all your duties. You must be diligent and conscientious, and not slack off. Can you do that?"

This was no longer a test, but a confirmation of his identity and the precepts he had to follow.

Qiao Tian replied without hesitation, "This disciple can do it! Thank you for your help, Master!"

Xuan Ku nodded slightly, then proceeded to arrange the follow-up matters. His words were both an explanation to Qiao Tian and a comfort to Qiao Sanhuai and his wife: "Now that you have entered the temple to cultivate, you should also keep in mind your worldly ties. The temple will take care of your parents and family, ensuring their well-being until you come of age. You can rest assured."

Then, he looked at Qiao Feng, his tone gentle but not negotiable: "As for Feng'er, he has excellent aptitude and a pure heart. I have decided to take him as a lay disciple, to teach him martial arts and how to be a good person. He can still live at home and go up the mountain every day to study literature and practice martial arts."

This was almost the most comprehensive arrangement available at the moment—it fulfilled Qiao Tian's wish to enter Shaolin, enabled Qiao Feng to receive guidance from a renowned master, and also ensured his parents' livelihood. Qiao Tian's heart surged with emotion, and he kowtowed again: "Thank you for your kindness, Master! Qiao Tian will never forget it!"

Xuanku then reached out to help him up, saying, "Get up. Go and say goodbye to your family. Tomorrow morning, when the mountain gates open, you can come to the guest monk's place to report."

Having said that, Xuan Ku said no more, bowed respectfully to Qiao Sanhuai and his wife, gently patted Qiao Feng's head, and then turned and slowly walked away. His figure gradually disappeared into the morning mist in the forest, as if he had never appeared.

Even after the master left, the atmosphere in the courtyard didn't lighten. Qiao's mother hugged Qiao Tian tightly, tears welling in her eyes again: "Tian'er, why suffer like that...wouldn't it be better to stay home?"

Qiao Sanhuai sighed heavily, squatted down, and patted Qiao Tian's shoulder with his rough hands: "When you get to the temple...be good and don't push yourself. If you really can't bear it...come home." This simple man couldn't say nice things, but all his worries and reluctance were hidden in his eyes.

Qiao Feng hugged Qiao Tian tightly around the waist, tilting his head up with a look of confusion and sadness: "Brother, why do you insist on going to work at the temple? Isn't it better to stay home with me? I don't want to be separated from you!"