Jixin, Le Shishi, and others stood with their mouths half-open, staring in disbelief at the closed door, suspecting their ears had played tricks on them.
Mu Shan, the supreme leader of the eighteen southern waterways, a top-tier martial artist under the heavens, a sworn brother of the patriarchs, and a formidable figure still short of sixty years, had actually suffered disgrace at the hands of a young monk no older than sixteen?
How utterly shocking!
Even if he had begun training from birth, Mu Shan’s swordsmanship, honed over decades, was no idle reputation!
Could there be another explanation? They instinctively speculated.
Inside the room, Meng Qi, upon hearing Mu Hengtian’s words, couldn’t help but twitch his lips. What was this? Had he defeated the father only for the son to come seeking revenge?
In truth, he understood well that the martial world was full of such feuds. Having “completely defeated” Mu Shan and humiliating him publicly, naturally his filial sons or disciples would come to challenge him, seeking to restore their master’s honor.
That’s just how the martial world worked… Meng Qi sighed inwardly and replied calmly, “This humble monk merely exchanged a few moves with Master Mu and barely scraped through victory. Where is the disgrace in that? Young Master Mu, please return.”
To Ning Daogu, Nie Yao, and others, this calm reply sounded like a thunderclap in a clear sky, shaking their souls and leaving them dazed. Could this young monk have truly defeated Mu Shan? It was simply unbelievable!
Could it be that he had mastered some youth-preserving technique, or perhaps had a miraculous encounter that bestowed him with sixty years of inner cultivation at a young age?
If that were the case, compared to him, they truly felt their years had been wasted!
Mu Hengtian still maintained his respectful bow, “Since that day, my father has been deeply troubled, often exclaiming that the Master’s swordsmanship is divine and beyond normal comprehension, and that he wasted half his life. I could not bear to see my father suffer like this. Though I know it was merely a friendly match, I still had to come forward to challenge you. I beg you, Master, please accept my challenge.”
As Meng Qi was about to refuse, he suddenly thought of something. At present, his reputation was not yet established, making many things difficult to accomplish and his words untrusted. Sighing inwardly, he said, “Young Master Mu, your filial devotion is commendable. Then this humble monk shall spar with you. I’ll give you five strikes. If you can force this monk to leave his meditation cushion, I shall admit defeat.”
What an arrogant claim! This was the first thought that came to Le Shishi, Nie Yao, and others. He actually intended to sit still, without moving a step, and take five strikes from Mu Hengtian!
Mu Hengtian was a martial artist on the verge of patriarch-level mastery, currently second only to You Tongguang, Cui Jinhua, Shen Hou, and others, and even stronger than his father, Mu Shan. Unless a patriarch were present, who could accomplish such a feat?
Mu Hengtian recalled the previous match and knew that Master Zhengding had the ability to make such a bold statement. He drew his long sword and bowed respectfully, “Please, Master, grant me your guidance.”
With that, he pushed open the door to the meditation room and stepped inside.
Le Shishi, Ning Daogu, and over a dozen others widened their eyes, staring intently at the room. However, the door was narrow, and Mu Hengtian’s movements blocked their view as he leapt and advanced. They only caught glimpses of flashing swordlight and heard five crisp clangs before seeing Mu Hengtian emerge, his face filled with extreme embarrassment. At the doorway, he turned and bowed bitterly, “Master, your swordsmanship is indeed divine. I was clearly arrogant and overconfident.”
“Amitabha Buddha, swordsmanship is but an external skill. Young Master Mu, do not be too attached to it.”
The voice, though soft, carried into the ears of Ning Daogu, Jixin, and those who had witnessed the match, giving them an indescribable sense of a true sage. The young monk sitting cross-legged on the cushion seemed to exude an otherworldly aura.
Mu Hengtian sighed deeply, “Thank you for your guidance, Master. Only today do I realize that there is always someone greater beyond the heavens, and someone superior beyond mankind.”
With that, he turned away, his expression filled with disappointment. Yet within just a few steps, he had regained his composure, showing no trace of emotion.
“Ai, what a deluded child.” The soft sigh reached Ning Daogu and others, stirring indescribable emotions within them. They gazed blankly at the gray-robed monk, who now seemed to be silently reciting scriptures.
Meanwhile, Meng Qi, pretending to be a venerable monk, felt very satisfied with his performance. His image as a sage had been successfully established. The only problem was that he had not yet reached the level of opening his acupoints. He couldn’t yet generate gusts of wind with his palm or fingers. Otherwise, with a single wave of his sleeve, the door would slowly close, gradually concealing his meditative form—how impressive that would have been!
Meng Qi was fully aware of his own penchant for showing off, pretending to be a venerable monk, and acting with an air of effortless grace. He felt no shame about it. As long as he didn’t indulge in it constantly or let it interfere with serious matters, there was no harm in having a few personal quirks. After all, who doesn’t have their own idiosyncrasies?
Sighing, Meng Qi realized that whether he got up to close the door himself or asked someone outside for help, it would damage his image as a venerable monk.
Choosing to ignore it, Meng Qi simply closed his eyes and began to meditate.
After a while, the reception monk quietly came over and closed the door. Ning Daogu and the others slowly regained their senses, exchanging glances filled with barely concealed astonishment.
Mu Hengtian, a figure of such strength, failed to force Master Zhengding to rise or move even after five strikes. Could his swordsmanship really be that terrifying? Was the claim of “divine swordsmanship” not just exaggeration?
This shocking news left them restless. After a while, they all rushed out to boast about witnessing an event destined for the annals of martial history. Only Ning Daogu and Le Shishi, two of the Four Heroes of Jiangnan, remained in the courtyard, seemingly waiting for Master Zhengding to finish meditating, hoping to exchange a few words and perhaps receive some guidance.
Though their martial paths differed, the great Dao was ultimately the same, with commonalities in all disciplines.
Meng Qi waited silently for the right moment before pushing open the door and stepping out.
“Master Zhengding,” Ning Daogu spoke without pretense, “I failed to recognize your true stature earlier, mistakenly taking you for an ordinary monk.” He openly admitted this, hoping to bridge the gap.
Meng Qi, who had never truly taken to the path of swordsmanship, felt little fondness for those carrying swords. He bowed with a smile, “No worries. A monk should not seek empty fame.”
I’ve never considered myself a monk, after all.
“Master, you truly are an enlightened monk.” Though it felt strange to say this to a young monk, Ji Xin still flattered him with a smile.
Looking at Meng Qi’s waist, where his monk’s saber hung, Le Shishi curiously asked, “May we know which sect you hail from? Your saber technique is truly divine.”
“This humble monk practices a heretical path, and by chance, encountered a miraculous opportunity,” Meng Qi intentionally replied this way, hoping they would spread the word.
“A miraculous opportunity…” Le Shishi and Nie Yao, the two young ladies, gazed dreamily, as if imagining themselves experiencing such a chance.
Though Ning Daogu and Ji Xin did not show it as openly, their expressions still betrayed similar thoughts.
After some small talk and mutual delight at having made the acquaintance of a true master, Meng Qi’s expression suddenly turned serious, “This humble monk prefers solitude. Should anyone come to challenge me in the future, please tell them I am not available. Ha ha, tonight, I truly will be away, visiting a friend.”
“I understand completely,” Ning Daogu readily agreed with a beaming smile. It was a great honor to assist a master of Master Zhengding’s caliber.
By evening, the news had fully spread. Within Tianding City, every martial artist or ordinary citizen who loved martial tales knew of the young Master Zhengding, barely ten years old, whose martial prowess had reached the peak of mastery. He had effortlessly withstood five strikes from Mu Hengtian without moving an inch.
In no time, countless martial artists, confident in their own skills, rushed to the ruined temple, eager to challenge him. After all, Master Zhengding was a monk, and would not easily take lives. Challenging him was the least risky endeavor. If they lost, no one would mock them for falling to such a figure. But if they won, their reputation would soar overnight, placing them among the few under the heavens!
Fortunately, Meng Qi had given prior instructions. Ning Daogu, Le Shishi, and the other Jiangnan Four Heroes turned them away with the excuse that he was not available.
Meng Qi continued monitoring the You residence, taking the opportunity to observe nighttime activities around the city lord’s mansion. The next noon, after disguising himself, he once again headed to Huaishu Street.
Outside Qiuchentang hung a wooden sign reading, “Forget-Sorrow Ointment available today.” Seeing this, Meng Qi nodded slightly and entered the shop directly.
The old shopkeeper glanced at Meng Qi, his eyes flashing with sharpness, “We have made contact with a Phase Spirit and received their agreement. Please, honorable guest, reveal your identity and offer the first chapters of the Illusory Body Technique as a deposit.”
“Reveal my identity?” Meng Qi asked knowingly, inwardly relieved. Whoever they contacted was certainly not Shen Hou.
The old shopkeeper spoke in a hoarse voice, “Many have set traps for Phase Spirits through commissioned tasks. Without knowing your identity, how can we retaliate afterward? Furthermore, if you renege on the deal, we’ll at least know whom to pursue. Rest assured, we won’t reveal your identity.”
He spoke quite openly about retaliation.
“Very well.” Meng Qi had mentally prepared himself. He nodded slowly in agreement and followed the shopkeeper into the back room.
Removing his wide-brimmed hat, Meng Qi stated directly, “This humble monk is Zhengding.”
“So you are Master Zhengding. Haha, no wonder you are so young yet possess such terrifying martial prowess, and dare to oppose the You family.” The old shopkeeper suddenly understood, clearly mistaking Meng Qi, who had produced the Illusory Body Technique, for a disciple of the Snow Spirit Palace.
He had only learned of the name “Master Zhengding” the previous night, initially skeptical that a monk so young could defeat Mu Shan.
Reputation precedes reality. The shopkeeper no longer doubted Meng Qi’s identity and accepted the first volume of the Illusory Body Technique—Meng Qi had already recopied it and studied its contents.
“Within three days, we will deliver You Hongbo before the Master. At that time, please provide the remaining chapters.” The old shopkeeper rose to see Meng Qi off, not asking why Meng Qi, who clearly possessed sufficient strength, had chosen to commission the Twelve Phase Spirits.
Meng Qi immediately departed, without any intention of capturing and interrogating the shopkeeper. This external contact surely knew nothing of the core secrets. Confronting him might only alert the enemy.
Moreover, the Twelve Phase Spirits operated in secrecy, likely communicating through hidden markers. It would be difficult to follow them. Even by monitoring the shopkeeper’s every move, there would likely be no results—if it were this easy to pinpoint the Twelve Phase Spirits, the organization would have been destroyed long ago.
Stepping out onto Huaishu Street, Meng Qi saw the main road filled with crowds, many carrying swords and blades. Glancing at the sky, dark clouds hung low, the air heavy with an oppressive atmosphere, as if heavy rain was imminent.
Who knew what great events would unfold in the next few days… Meng Qi sighed inwardly.
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