Compared to when they last met at Yumen Pass, Zhen Hui had grown even taller, now only an inch shorter than Meng Qi. His features were handsome and refined, and his slim physique gave his gray monk’s robe an air of immaculate elegance. Were it not for his bright, youthful smile, he would have perfectly embodied the image of an ideal monk that Meng Qi had always admired.
“Hmph,” Meng Qi coughed lightly. “Little junior apprentice, it’s a long story. Allow me to have some water first before I explain everything.”
This was a familiar exchange from the times when Zhen Hui used to beg Meng Qi to tell him stories.
Zhen Hui nodded earnestly, his innocent heart shining through. “Okay, I’ve already boiled the water!”
As he spoke, he led Meng Qi into the temple, heading toward the courtyard where Xuan Bei had always lived.
“Is Master in retreat?” Meng Qi took the opportunity to confirm.
Zhen Hui answered without hesitation, “Master missed the chance to cultivate in the upper levels of the Stupa, so he has been intermittently retreating over the past few years to solidify his foundation and forge his own path.”
Meng Qi had already expected this, but upon hearing it confirmed, he still felt a pang of bitterness. His master had ultimately sacrificed an opportunity for his sake.
Zhen Hui looked at Meng Qi seriously. “Senior Brother, Master told me not to mention this when I met you, but I feel this shouldn’t be hidden from you, so I had to tell you.”
His eyes were clear and sincere, showing no hesitation or distance.
Feeling a deep pang in his heart, Meng Qi was about to indulge in self-reproach when his expression suddenly turned awkward. *Little junior apprentice, you sure have your own mind!*
“Cough, little junior apprentice, yes, you did the right thing by telling me, but we should still try to follow Master’s instructions,” Meng Qi replied ambiguously, unsure how else to respond.
Upon hearing this, Zhen Hui beamed with joy. “I knew Senior Brother would praise me!”
“Senior Brother, after two years of retreat, I’ve already opened four acupoints, and my *Nirvana Finger* has reached a preliminary stage of mastery. Master said that among all generations, my progress in *Nirvana Finger* ranks among the top three so far…” Zhen Hui’s eyes sparkled as he eagerly showed off his achievements.
Meng Qi smiled warmly. “Excellent, excellent! *Nirvana Finger* is famously difficult to cultivate. To have reached mastery by age sixteen and opened four acupoints—you’re no less accomplished than Zhen Ben, Zhen Miao, or even the young Zhen Chang. Of course, compared to your senior brother here, you’re still a little behind.”
He shamelessly praised himself, but with a familiar junior apprentice, there was no need to hide his true nature.
Along the way, many monks peeked curiously at Meng Qi, the martial artist who had once been expelled from the temple but now returned as a guest ranked among the elite. Yet Xuan Ku, the monk who had once assigned Meng Qi to the servant quarters, did not appear. Unlike Xuan Kong, Xuan Ku was not petty or vindictive. He was upright to the point of being rigid, imposing his own ideals on others and holding disdain for what he deemed wrong. Meng Qi’s return had no impact on him—he simply continued with his own duties.
“Yes, I’m still far from Senior Brother,” Zhen Hui humbly admitted, secretly delighting Meng Qi. “Master would often tell me stories about you when he wasn’t in retreat—how you fought Yu Huan in Longxi, how you barely defeated Sword King Zai in Yedu with half a move, how your fierce battle in Maoling shocked the region, and how you triumphed over the Five Emperors’ Blade in Changchuan. You were so mighty and impressive!”
“Every time I told these stories to Zhen He and the others, they wouldn’t believe me. But later, when Master’s younger brother Xuan Xin told the same tales, and many senior monks returning from their journeys brought back copies of the rankings, they finally apologized to me and admitted I hadn’t lied…”
“Xuan Xin Master always exaggerates. Whenever he talks about your achievements, he deliberately glosses over the details…”
“As for Zhen Ben Senior Brother, he described mastering seven supreme techniques as greed leading to failure…”
As Zhen Hui chattered on, the Shaolin Meng Qi had left over two years ago gradually came back into focus—whose circumstances had changed, who had remained the same, all vividly resurfacing in his mind, as if reliving the past.
Meng Qi chuckled with a hint of nostalgia, teasing, “Little junior apprentice, did the time in silent meditation make you so restless that you became more talkative than before?”
Zhen Hui shook his head sincerely. “I’m just excited to see Senior Brother.”
As he spoke, he looked up at the pale blue sky. “Back then, Senior Brother often told me stories of the martial world and tales of wandering heroes. But these past two years, you yourself have become the hero of those stories…”
Since their reunion, only this sentence truly captured the passage of time.
Sighing softly, Meng Qi smiled and comforted Zhen Hui. “Little junior apprentice, wait until you open six acupoints and pass the Bronze Man Alley, and you too will become part of their stories. Then, Senior Brother will take you to enjoy all the good things in life.”
“Okay!” Zhen Hui nodded firmly, his face beaming.
Chatting casually, the two passed through the grand halls and courtyards and arrived at the courtyard where Xuan Bei lived. After pouring Meng Qi a cup of water, Zhen Hui cheerfully said, “Senior Brother, I’ll go to the back mountain to fetch Master back. You wait here.”
Not long after, Xuan Bei, wearing a yellow monk’s robe and a red kasaya, descended from the sky with Zhen Hui, golden lotuses blooming beneath his feet.
“You still remembered to come back and visit your old master. Good, good,” Xuan Bei said with a satisfied expression.
He still looked like the same melancholic middle-aged monk, his handsome features bearing a striking resemblance to Meng Qi’s current appearance.
*It’s no wonder we look alike if we’re related…* Meng Qi mused, his inner thoughts aligning with the suspicions he had entertained ever since reading the secret records stating, *”His mother’s surname is Tang.”*
He knelt deeply. “Disciple is unworthy, having brought shame upon Master.”
“Nonsense. In the world of red dust, there are always trials. Losing an opportunity may well be a blessing. The path of karma is beyond full comprehension,” Xuan Bei comforted him lightly, helping Meng Qi up and then sitting at the head seat with a sigh. “Zhen Ding, you truly are stubborn by nature. Even at the end, you refused to return to the Su family in Shendu, just like your mother when she resolutely left home all those years ago.”
*So I’m really on the maternal uncle’s side…* Meng Qi thought wryly, then confessed honestly, “Master, since I was sent to Shaolin, the Su family in Shendu has had nothing to do with me. The only family I have left in this world is you and my little junior apprentice.”
Xuan Bei was both amused and touched. “Very well. Ignoring and avoiding their affairs is better anyway, to keep you out of the intrigues of Shendu. Besides, your mother passed away from illness.”
At this, Zhen Hui finally caught on, his eyes widening. “Master, you knew Senior Brother’s mother? Could it be… could it be…”
Before he could finish his “could it be,” Meng Qi interrupted with a cough. Based on the melodramatic stories he had heard from Meng Qi before, he was likely about to blurt out the word *”illegitimate son”*: *”Master is Senior Brother’s maternal uncle.”*
“Oh,” Zhen Hui said, slightly disappointed. The story hadn’t unfolded the way he expected…
Meng Qi’s expression turned serious. “Master, disciple has returned to the temple today not only to visit you and my junior apprentice, but also to report an important matter.”
Hearing the words *”important matter,”* Xuan Bei waved his hand, and layers of glazed Buddha light enveloped the room. “Speak.”
“Disciple met a young man named Duan Rui in Jiangdong…” Meng Qi recounted everything in detail, including the nine postures, the mysterious monk behind the scenes, and the inscription *”Love, righteousness, benevolence—do not enter this door”* deep within the secret passage—claiming it was all something Duan Rui had entrusted him with.
Zhen Hui listened with wide eyes, slightly astonished. So the death of Zhen Chang Senior Brother back then wasn’t as simple as it seemed…
Xuan Bei listened with a solemn expression and then said gravely, “There are too few clues at present to identify the hidden adversary, but I will remain vigilant from now on to prevent anyone from easily framing or backstabbing me.”
Even a half-step Law Body expert would find it difficult to succeed if someone at the *Outside Scene Peak* level was on guard.
After speaking, he paused thoughtfully and added, “Due to temple rules, I cannot tell you certain things, but I can confirm one thing—there is indeed a stone door deep within the secret passage.”
They had discovered it by chance when they first found the hidden tunnel.
Could it be that the Shaolin of the main world truly had a door inscribed with *”Love, righteousness, benevolence—do not enter this door”*? Meng Qi felt increasingly that the Master of the Six Dao Reincarnation was indeed mysterious…
Xuan Bei did not elaborate further. First, temple rules restricted him—monks like him followed the rules strictly and did not seek loopholes. Second, Meng Qi’s current strength was insufficient, and getting involved in such matters was premature.
He shifted the topic. “So those nine postures were actually demonic techniques? I thought they were the first volume of *Yi Jin Jing*.”
“You also thought that, Master?” Meng Qi felt as though he had found a kindred spirit.
“I became a monk later in life. Back then, I chose *Maha Fumo Fist*, an incomplete martial art, which meant giving up the choice of *Yi Jin Jing*. Therefore, I don’t know much about the contents of the secret texts, but I’ve heard from several senior masters that the complete *Yi Jin Jing* has ninety-nine postures in total. The first volume contains about twelve or thirteen, accompanied by text, annotations, and gathas,” Xuan Bei explained all he knew.
Meng Qi nodded. He could always rely on the Six Dao Reincarnation Master for verification.
Xuan Bei did not bring up the mysterious monk or *Yi Jin Jing* again. Looking at Meng Qi with kindness, he said, “Back then, I had intended for you to return to the Su family in Shendu, so I did not pursue other matters, fearing you might resist their family martial arts. Now that you are traveling the martial world, I will simply pass on the martial techniques I practiced before becoming a monk.”
Delighted, Meng Qi kowtowed in gratitude. Another master-level martial art was now his. Even though he wouldn’t be greedy or exchange it with the Six Dao Reincarnation Master, it would still be useful as a reference.
Smiling, Xuan Bei continued, “In my youth, I was known as *Seven Marvels Hand*, excelling in seven aspects: palm, finger, fist, claw, internal energy, sealing techniques, and footwork. You focus on sword and blade techniques and already cultivate a supreme physical martial art. Therefore, you need not waste time on palm, finger, fist, claw, or internal energy methods. Focus instead on acupoint striking and footwork. When you become a supreme expert and establish your own school, you can pass this martial art on to others. This way, you will fulfill my wish—not letting the legacy of my predecessors perish, even as I received their inheritance…”
“The martial art I cultivated is called *Seven True Classics*, divided into seven chapters. The footwork technique is *Relying on Emptiness and Facing the Wind*, which, at the Acupoint Opening stage, allows one to reverse direction in midair once or twice. The sealing technique is *Binding Spirit and Locking Body Hand*, while the acupoint striking method in the Acupoint Opening chapter has a unique name: *Star God’s Acupoint Sealing Finger*…”
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