Quickly composing his expression, Meng Qi turned around and looked at Zhen Hui with a serious face, “Senior Brother, I was just going downstairs to arrange the evening meal. Junior Brother, you’re at the crucial stage of breaking through to the culmination of Qi Storage; how can you keep thinking about playing around? You must work harder!”
Zhen Hui indeed harmonized very well with the “Flower-Picking Finger,” and was nearly ready to break through again. This speed ranked among the top five among all monks who had cultivated the “Flower-Picking Finger” throughout history.
Zhen Hui nodded earnestly and then looked longingly at Meng Qi, “Senior Brother, I want to eat roasted lamb leg.”
“Haha, there’s nothing here but plenty of sheep and camels!” Meng Qi laughed. After Zhen Hui resumed meditating, Meng Qi strolled to the corridor, shut the door behind him, and silently mused, Junior Brother, this time Senior Brother probably can’t get you a roasted lamb leg. If we meet again in the future, I’ll make it up to you with ten roasted lamb legs!
He also knew that the chance of escaping from his master was slim, but one must always hold onto hope, stay optimistic. And after so many attempts to escape, pitting wits and strength against his master, he felt he had gained a lot—this was like a grueling cultivation. Most likely, his master had this intention all along, which was why he never warned Meng Qi against escaping, playing this “game” with him.
Of course, if Meng Qi really could escape, he wouldn’t give it up. The reason was that he seemed to have drawn the attention of the Discipline Hall, and he carried the great secret of the Six Paths’ Ruler. His martial arts were all rather unique; if he wasn’t careful, they’d be discovered, which would be extremely dangerous. It was better to leave earlier rather than later.
Therefore, Meng Qi continued to spread his mind outward, enveloping his entire body, and stealthily made his way downstairs.
His steps were cautious, fearing to alert his master, while he optimistically imagined life after escaping:
“Once I leave Liusha Gathering, I’ll head back. As long as I reach ‘Kanli City,’ Master won’t be able to find me anymore. Then I can go to the Zhenwu Sect to find Senior Brother Zhang. He’s broad-minded and values friendship; he won’t mind my seeking refuge with him. Moreover, his family is one of the three major lay families of the Zhenwu Sect. If I stick with him, I won’t have to worry about sources of medicinal herbs and elixirs, and once I open the four orifices, I can officially travel the martial world, seeking treasures and establishing my reputation.”
“But the Zhenwu Sect is a major martial sect with many eyes, and their relationship with Shaolin is very close. A slight slip could lead to discovery of my secret identity, bringing many troubles. Also, relying on others always feels uncomfortable. After all, I have my pride! Maybe I should go to Xijian Pavilion to find Zhiwei. She’ll probably be descending the mountain soon to travel and refine her sword intent. Hehe, then the golden boy and jade girl can travel the martial world together—how wonderful, how pleasant, how eye-catching!”
“Wait, being eye-catching doesn’t sound quite right… Isn’t that just asking to be caught and dragged back to Shaolin? Sigh, I should wait another three or four years, until I’ve grown taller and more mature, unrecognizable to anyone who doesn’t know me well, and then find Zhiwei to travel the martial world together.”
“Yeah, I’ll go to Hua Hua Sword Sect first to find Senior Brother Qi. After he successfully opened his orifices, he applied to guard the sect’s external properties. There, no one will control or pay attention to me. Haha, that’s decided then—find Senior Brother Qi and enjoy the good life!”
Meng Qi’s eyes sparkled with anticipation as he crossed the lobby toward the inn’s front door, ready to embrace a life of freedom.
Just then, a voice suddenly sounded in his ear: “Zhen Ding, get your master a vegetarian chicken.”
Vegetarian chicken… Meng Qi’s expression froze. He barely managed to suppress his disappointment and replied gloomily, “Yes, Master.”
Sure enough, his master had been watching from behind…
He took a deep breath and turned back into the hall. By now, many of the noisy guests had dispersed, leaving several tables empty.
“Master monk, what can I get you?” The young waiter was fresh-faced and smiling, far from the indifferent attitude of Qu Jiuniang, who always looked like she was saying, “Sir, I’m your mother.”
Isn’t it said that the employees are like their boss? Meng Qi thought with amusement, his mood somewhat improved. He replied, “Roast lamb leg, vegetarian chicken…”
“Coming right up!” The waiter wiped the table while calling out the order.
After placing the order and sipping the tea the waiter brought, Meng Qi hadn’t even had time to mourn his 103rd failed escape when Xuan Bei and Zhen Hui came downstairs.
“Senior Brother, did you order the roast lamb leg?” Zhen Hui licked his lips.
Meng Qi inwardly sighed but outwardly remained expressionless, “Yes.”
Xuan Bei still had that gloomy look about him. He asked the waiter who came over to pour tea, “Lay devotee, have there been any news from the west lately?”
Since escaping wasn’t possible for now, Meng Qi was also quite concerned about this matter and turned his eyes toward the waiter.
“Master monk, aside from bandits raiding a few merchant caravans, there’s only one major piece of news—the long-missing Old Crier has reemerged as the national teacher of ‘Hale,’ recruiting swordsmen and bandits, planning to unite the countries and oases between the Western Sea and the Eastern side of the Burial God Desert, just like your Central Plains’ Jin and Zhou Dynasties.” The waiter had yellow eyes and curly hair, typical of a westerner.
“That’s quite ambitious…” Meng Qi praised. If he succeeded, Old Crier would be like the First Emperor of the Western regions.
As Meng Qi praised, he suddenly noticed his master’s expression was off. Normally, his master was gloomy and depressed except when praising Meng Qi and Zhen Hui. But now, his face was like still water, without a trace of gloom.
“Master, do you know the Old Crier?” Meng Qi could only guess.
Xuan Bei looked at his teacup, speaking with slight emotion, “Old Crier, real name unknown, a peak-level Outer View Grandmaster, active in Jin’s Longxi, the Death Sea, and the Burial God Desert, ranked 33rd on the Earth List. He specializes in the ‘Cyclone Sand Skill’ and ‘Eighteen Blows of Vengeful Souls,’ truly a terrifying figure.”
“So powerful…” Meng Qi was no longer the naive little monk. He wouldn’t think lightly of someone ranked 33rd on the Earth List. After all, the Heaven List only had ten high-level experts. Even including hidden or unknown experts, Old Crier was among the top sixty terrifying figures in the entire nation.
Seeing the waiter had gone to serve others, Xuan Bei sighed softly and whispered, “My expression must have looked terrible just now, didn’t it?”
“Master, do you have a grudge with Old Crier?” Zhen Hui hit the nail on the head, without any thought of covering for his master.
Meng Qi chuckled inwardly. Good thing there was his straightforward junior brother; otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to ask directly.
Xuan Bei gazed into his teacup, where a few tea leaves floated, his gloom intensifying, “My secular name is Tang Zhan. I was considered a top expert along the Gansu Road, only one step away from becoming a Grandmaster. At that time, I hated evil fiercely. Once, while escorting a friend to the ‘Burial God Mountain,’ where the Diamond Temple is located, I casually killed a lecherous villain who had raped and murdered several female martial artists.”
“However, that villain had a good master named ‘Heavenly Hermit of the Endless Wastes,’ who couldn’t defeat me but was furious over his disciple’s death. He took advantage of my absence from the Gansu Road and suddenly attacked my manor, killing all the elderly, women, and children. Only an old servant managed to escape with my two young sons, fleeing westward to find me. Unfortunately, they were caught before reaching the sea…”
He spoke flatly, without emotional inflection, but Meng Qi somehow sensed profound loneliness and deep hatred in his words.
“When I learned of this, I felt as if a 35-year dream had shattered in an instant, my hatred burning, my desire for revenge consuming me. However, ‘Heavenly Hermit of the Endless Wastes’ also had a good master.”
“Old Crier?” Meng Qi guessed, or else he wouldn’t have read so many novels.
Xuan Bei nodded slightly, “I endured for several years, finally seizing an opportunity to kill ‘Heavenly Hermit of the Endless Wastes’ entire family. After that, I was relentlessly pursued by ‘Old Crier’ all the way into the heart of the Central Plains. Fortunately, the Abbot took pity on me and admitted me into the Buddhist order, allowing me to settle down. Therefore, in the future, if you encounter Old Crier or his disciples and grand-disciples, remember to be cautious.”
There was no dramatic upheaval, no cruel imagery, as Xuan Bei spoke as if recounting someone else’s story.
The reason he was willing to share this painful past was because upon hearing of Old Crier’s reappearance, he wanted to remind his disciples to be careful and not recklessly reveal their identities in front of others.
He didn’t deliberately lower his voice, yet all the surrounding guests seemed deaf to their conversation, as if no one were speaking at this table at all.
This skill left Meng Qi secretly awestruck, far surpassing even Duan Xiangfei’s perfected Formless Art, without the slightest trace of effort.
After Xuan Bei finished speaking, he fell silent and focused on eating his vegetarian meal, while Zhen Hui devoured his lamb leg heartily, seemingly unbothered by any troubles.
The atmosphere grew heavy and eerie, so Meng Qi shifted his attention, straining his ears to listen to nearby guests’ lively chatter, hoping to catch any special news.
Perhaps because the waiter had mentioned Old Crier earlier, a nearby table also began discussing the topic.
“Didn’t expect Old Crier to still be alive!” A “desert traveler” wrapped in a headscarf and wearing a black robe clicked his tongue, his waist bearing a curved saber, its blade sharp and faintly stained with blood.
Another similarly dressed traveler with a full beard chuckled, “Yeah, nine years ago Su Wuming traveled west, and Old Crier foolishly challenged him, only to disappear completely afterward. Everyone thought he died by Su Wuming’s sword.”
“They say Su Wuming was aiming for a divine relic in the Burial God Desert back then, had no intention of sparring, but Old Crier insisted on fighting, so he casually delivered a single sword strike. After that, Old Crier vanished for a full nine years.” A third “desert traveler” with blue eyes laughed, as if he himself were Su Wuming, looking down on Old Crier with disdain.
Meng Qi listened in awe. His master Jiang Zhiwei truly had the aura of a grandmaster. With a single casual sword strike, he felled a terrifying figure like Old Crier. In the future, in the future, he would be like that too!
“Master monk, ten silver taels.” After dinner, the waiter cheerfully came to collect payment.
Robbery! Meng Qi gained a deeper understanding of this black-hearted inn, but thinking of Qu Jiuniang’s frowning face and that his master probably wouldn’t stand up for him, he reluctantly took out silver to settle the bill—it wasn’t his money anyway!
“You shall accompany your master to a place.” Suddenly, Xuan Bei spoke, slowly walking toward the inn’s exterior.
Meng Qi looked at Zhen Hui with confusion, seeing the latter’s expression of natural acceptance, he could only suppress his surprise and follow his master out of the inn.
As the three stepped out of the inn, Qu Jiuniang, who had maintained a cold demeanor, suddenly lifted her head, looking at Xuan Bei’s back with suspicion, her fingers lightly tapping the table.
Meanwhile, the three “desert travelers” who had been discussing Old Crier earlier lowered their voices, whispering among themselves.
“Boss, we don’t see any fat lambs. Should we rob these three monks? They seem pretty wealthy.” The desert traveler with sapphire-like eyes asked.
The saber-wielding traveler shook his head, “Better not to rob monks like them.”
“Why? Boss, when did you become a Buddhist believer?” The bearded traveler asked in confusion.
The swordsman traveler snapped back furiously, “I believe in your mother’s Buddhism! Both of you, open your eyes wider. Monks who dare to cross the vast desert alone like this usually aren’t pushovers. Keep your focus on that merchant caravan. Even though their guards are tough, we can join forces with other bandit gangs.”
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