“Without remorse?” As the head of the Precepts Hall, Wu Jing still encountered a disciple who showed no sign of repentance for the first time, and he was instantly furious, sternly retorting.
“Amitabha, what a sin, what a sin,” Kong Jian paused momentarily in twisting his prayer beads.
Xuan Bei stared in shock at Meng Qi, his mouth opening and closing, not knowing what to say. After such words, there would be no chance for redemption!
Was he truly thinking that way, or was it just to prevent himself from losing the opportunity to cultivate in the upper levels of the Relic Pagoda?
Oh, you poor deluded child, sigh, you poor deluded child!
Xuan Bei’s expression was somewhat disappointed, yet also touched and comforted.
Meng Qi, defiant and fearless, said, “Does the Head not know the principle of eradicating evil thoroughly? As the saying goes, when will the cycle of vengeance end? Only by rooting out evil can we prevent further killings and accumulate more sins.”
“If we allow evildoers to roam freely, merely trying to reform them, more innocent people will suffer. Isn’t that adding to the sins? Killing to protect oneself, cutting sins, not people!”
“Shaolin is the Chan Sect. Buddha is not found externally; one’s nature is complete within. The Buddha is the enlightened one, the teacher, not a clay or wooden idol enshrined in a temple. Yet you have forgotten the true meaning of Chan, offering incense and worshiping Buddha, serving him with your body, treating the Buddha as a deity, bowing in reverence, losing your true nature!”
“The path of Chan is the search for the Buddha within. Everyone has Buddha-nature. As long as one is not blinded by the false union of the four elements, one’s self is the Buddha. Why then do you still perform good deeds and stop killing, accumulating merit and virtue, seeking the path of the Bodhisattva externally?”
“Hypocrisy! Heresy!”
He just kept provoking Wu Jing, spewing words without caring whether they made sense or aligned with his own thoughts.
“Evil obstacle, where did you learn such heretical nonsense!” Wu Jing shouted furiously.
Although Wu Jing, who had studied Buddhist scriptures for years, had reasons to refute Meng Qi’s words, as the head of the Precepts Hall and a senior elder two generations above, it would be undignified to debate with a disciple who refused to repent.
He turned to Xuan Bei, “Do you have anything else to say?”
Xuan Bei looked deeply at Meng Qi, clasped his hands, and said, “Amitabha, your disciple has failed in teaching his apprentice, I have nothing to say. Please allow me to personally strip Zhen Ding of his martial arts skills and send him to a nearby city to avoid further trouble.”
Meng Qi lowered his head, feeling a sense of loss in his heart, disappointing his master…
Zhen Hui had been kneeling beside them, feeling quite remorseful, bearing no resentment toward his punishment. Yet at this moment, watching his master approach his senior apprentice, placing his right palm gently on his dantian, golden pure light radiating, he finally showed emotion, his face filled with sorrow and fear, crying out, “Senior apprentice-brother!”
After all, he was still just a child.
There was no pain in his dantian, as if immersed in warm water, completely different from the sensation when An Guo used his evil skills. Yet Meng Qi could clearly feel his martial prowess rapidly disappearing.
Hearing Zhen Hui’s cry, he turned his head, forcing a smile, gently saying, “Little junior apprentice-brother, don’t be sad. Study martial arts well. When we meet again, don’t fall too far behind me. Hehe, by then, you might even be a great monk.”
Zhen Hui was no fool, knowing there was no way back, his eyes brimming with tears, “Senior apprentice-brother, you must take care too!”
“I will become a great hero,” Meng Qi tried hard to ease the sudden sadness with his smile.
Then, under Xuan Bei’s guidance, Meng Qi made an oath with his Yuan Shen: starting from today, he would not pass on Shaolin martial arts externally—if he did not make the Yuan Shen oath, he would be locked in the lower levels of the Relic Pagoda for decades without seeing daylight.
Xuan Bei pulled Meng Qi up and said to Kong Jian, “Master’s Master, your disciple will send Zhen Ding to Wuliang, avoiding the pursuit of the Cry Elder’s lineage.”
Kong Jian stopped twisting his prayer beads, sighed, and said, “Zhen Ding, the Dharma is neither for evildoers nor for the virtuous. As long as you can awaken to your true self in the future, letting go of your killing intent, you can still become a Buddha instantly, and the gates of Shaolin will always be open to you.”
Even those who have committed many evils can become monks after achieving enlightenment, so Shaolin would naturally not refuse a repentant disciple. Of course, as a sect of martial artists who have reached the divine level, they have many ways to test the sincerity of repentance.
Meng Qi nodded without speaking, letting Xuan Bei pull him along, lotus flowers blooming with each step, disappearing by the window.
Zhen Hui bit his lip tightly, looking longingly at the sky outside, still seemingly expecting his senior apprentice-brother to return suddenly.
…
Wuliang City, a place where north and south, land and water converge.
As the golden lotuses vanished, Meng Qi found himself at the dock. Around him, laborers and porters sweated heavily, and many travelers boarded boats heading south.
Xuan Bei stood quietly in front of Meng Qi. After a long while, he sighed, “Go to the capital. The Su family will surely take you in, no matter what.”
“The Su family?” Meng Qi asked slightly surprised. Could it be that the secular name of this body was Su?
Xuan Bei did not say much, because when Meng Qi entered the temple, he was already around ten years old. How could he forget his family’s noble rank? He looked at Meng Qi once again deeply, and with a heavy heart, said, “After today, I can no longer protect you. Take care of yourself.”
“Yes, Master.” Meng Qi held back his rising sadness and sincerely performed the apprentice’s bow for the first time.
Xuan Bei took a deep breath, wanting to say more, but finally turned away with a long sigh and left.
Golden lotuses bloomed beneath his feet, carrying him into the sky, disappearing from sight, while passersby and laborers seemed not to notice.
Meng Qi stood silently for a while, gazing in the direction his master had disappeared, then exhaled, turned around, and walked toward the passenger boat.
The feeling of losing his martial arts was something he had experienced before, so it wasn’t particularly unbearable. After all, the physical enhancement from the Golden Bell Cover, and the improved vision and hearing after opening the eye and ear orifices were all based on his body. Even if his martial arts were destroyed, they would only be weakened, not disappear.
Moreover, the techniques and sword methods he had learned would not be forgotten just because his dantian was destroyed, although some variations would be difficult to complete.
Thus, even if he ran into rogue ruffians who sought to rob him, Meng Qi would have no fear—armed with four lethal weapons at his side.
As for the Su family in the capital, Meng Qi had no intention of returning. He had no memories or feelings for them. Why go there and invite trouble? He just needed to find out about related matters in the future to avoid being implicated.
Besides, he was using his “real name” and had been expelled midway, right at the “puberty” when his body was changing and his appearance transforming. After a year or so, even the Shaolin monks wouldn’t recognize him anymore, let alone the Su family he knew nothing about?
He had already decided to take a boat southeast, first passing by the Sword Washing Pavilion to see if Zhiwei had descended the mountain for her travels. If not, he would temporarily take refuge under her until his martial arts recovered. If she had already gone on a journey, he would continue south to the Zhenwu Sect to find Senior Brother Zhang—the Huanhua Sword Sect was located in Huan Province, with many mountains and rivers, difficult to traverse, and plagued by miasma, and now he had no martial arts.
Soon, Meng Qi, carrying a heavy sum of money, found a large boat heading to Huazhou—the Sword Washing Pavilion and the Zhenwu Sect were located in the north and south of Huazhou respectively.
He changed into the attire of a scholar, wearing a silk headband, a Confucian robe, and a sword named Ice Abyss hanging at his waist. The Red Sun Sword, the Bloodthirsty Sword, and the Horse-Cutting Sword were wrapped in cloth and carried on his back. As he walked along the road, he attracted many admiring glances—a graceful young gentleman.
Under normal circumstances, Meng Qi would naturally feel proud and satisfied with these admiring glances, but now, he dared not delay or be distracted in the slightest. Who knew if the Cry Elder’s faction had spies here? He had to reach the Sword Washing Pavilion as soon as possible.
The large boat set sail, and Meng Qi stood on the deck, leaning against the railing, gazing at the endless rolling water, his heart feeling expansive and refreshed.
As he recalled his time at Shaolin, thinking of his master and junior apprentice-brother, thinking of Wu Jing’s excessive hatred for evil, thinking of the Cry Elder and Zeluo Residence, he was overwhelmed with mixed emotions—sadness, melancholy, loss, resentment, and anger, longing to cut down all those villains with his blade.
“In the future, when I achieve the Outer Scenery realm, I will surely return to the Western Regions and truly eradicate the evil mountains!” Meng Qi muttered, clenching his fist.
The river wind blew fiercely, his clothes flapping in the wind. His underdeveloped body appeared somewhat frail, and with his genuine emotions showing, he looked even more melancholic, making others reluctant to approach him.
Half a day later, the large boat arrived at the next dock, stopping to load cargo. Meng Qi and others disembarked and casually ate some food at a nearby teahouse.
Meng Qi held his teacup, not wasting time reminiscing about his martial arts skills, letting all his sword and saber techniques flow through his mind.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of galloping horses. Looking up, he saw four horses trailing dust, rapidly approaching.
The four riders on horseback were all fierce-looking, wielding horse sabers.
“Horse bandits?” Meng Qi was startled and angry, drawing the Ice Abyss sword and quickly rising to rush toward the road leading from the dock to the city.
Had they really followed him?
Meng Qi’s current speed was no match for the horses, and soon he was surrounded by the four horse bandits near the teahouse.
Due to the many tables and chairs, the horse bandits dismounted and approached from four directions with their swords drawn.
Outside the nearby woods, You Huan sat astride his horse, watching his men at work, smiling as he said to the big man beside him, “Thank you, Master Wu, for the notification. From now on, our goods will be entrusted to you.”
When it came to other matters, he felt far inferior to the Shaolin monks, but when it came to harming others, he was far superior!
From the beginning, he knew his intentions couldn’t be hidden from Xuan Bei and others, so he activated his accumulated connections early, having some gangs in the Western Province monitor Meng Qi’s movements, using white-headed birds for notification.
Sure enough, a water gang spotted Meng Qi at the Wuliang dock, so he and several subordinates each rode two horses to death, finally catching up.
Master Wu chuckled and said, “Brother You Huan is too polite. A little bald monk with his martial arts destroyed is worth your personal attention?”
“If it weren’t for the little bald monk making a mistake himself, I really wouldn’t have a way to deal with him. But now, hehe, I want to see what tricks he still has,” You Huan sneered. “Today, I will kill him to consecrate my sword!”
He didn’t act rashly himself, fearing that Meng Qi’s martial arts might not have been destroyed, and he could summon lightning, so he first sent his subordinates forward.
The four horse bandits blocked the teahouse, one of them shouting loudly, “A thousand miles to seek revenge. Unrelated people should leave on their own!”
In the Central Plains, the horse bandits dared not go too far.
Another one sneered, “Little bald monk, you thought you could kill the evil mountain with Shaolin’s protection. Now you’re stupid, right? Such a strict sect is the easiest to deal with!”
“Little bald monk, you look so handsome, I like that kind best. If you kneel down and beg for mercy, I might soften up,” a bald horse bandit cackled, as if Meng Qi was already a dead man.
Watching the customers around him fleeing in fear, the four horse bandits charged forward. Meng Qi, furious, instinctively tried to channel his inner strength, but felt nothing, instantly realizing his helplessness.
But in this very state, without inner strength, he felt the four horse bandits’ moves even more deeply, seeing them more clearly and thoroughly.
Time seemed to slow down, everything around him seemed to disappear, the accumulated experience, the secret manuals he had seen, the stories he had known all flashed through his mind, and suddenly he had an epiphany!
“Die!” The four horse bandits charged at Meng Qi, shouting loudly.
Meng Qi’s face was calm, his sword darted out, arriving before them, like a ghost, slashing at their eyes as if they were hidden weapons!
Ah!
The four horse bandits’ screams almost sounded at the same time. They dropped their horse sabers, covering their eyes in pain, rolling on the ground, blood seeping through their fingers.
Meng Qi stood tall, looking at them, looking at You Huan in the distance, pointing his sword and declaring loudly, “Even if a tiger falls on flat land, can it be bullied by wild dogs like you?”
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