Chapter 56: The Killer

The black shadow darted out from the woods, almost giving the sensation of shrinking the earth into inches. Before Meng Qi could react, it had already struck a palm onto Zhen Yong’s back.

This palm strike appeared ordinary, seemingly casual, making it difficult to identify the martial arts origin. However, with his acupoints sealed and hands bound, Zhen Yong had no way and no time to make any effective response. His eyes widened, his mouth opened, and he spat out a mist of blood before collapsing limply, his face frozen in astonishment.

“It must be an expert at the Open Orifice stage!” Meng Qi’s pupils contracted as he preliminarily judged this from the black-clad figure’s movements. At the same time, he brandished his Precepts Blade, assuming a desperate posture!

Defense was impossible. He had to make the black-clad figure understand that he was not an easy target, willing to fight to the death, and that it would not be quick to resolve. Only then would the figure worry about other monks summoned by Zhen Hui and retreat in the face of difficulty!

This figure wore dark clothing, with only the nostrils and a pair of eyes exposed. After killing Zhen Yong, it did not stop but rushed directly toward Meng Qi without hesitation. Raising its right palm, it flipped it downward like the sky collapsing. The move was ancient and solemn, exuding a majestic aura that seemed to cover the heavens and earth.

Meng Qi felt that no matter which movement he used or which step of the “Divine Step of Hundred Changes” he took, all were completely enveloped by the palm’s wind, leaving him unable to avoid or escape!

What an extraordinary palm technique!

Wisdom unimpeded, pure and solemn, palm containing heaven and earth!

Meng Qi recognized it as a Buddhist divine palm technique. If cultivated deeply, it could potentially evolve into the “Buddha Land in the Palm,” suppressing all things. Thus, although seemingly simple, it could seal off all of Meng Qi’s subsequent variations.

Facing this palm strike, Meng Qi clearly knew that without having grasped the true essence of swordsmanship, whether it was the Blood Saber Technique or the Five Tigers Severing the Gate Saber Technique, he had no chance of breaking through this blockade. The Divine Step of Hundred Changes also lacked the internal meaning of principles and methods, unable to step out of the heavenly net. The fourth level of the Golden Bell Shield would likely only withstand one strike!

After delivering the palm strike, the black-clad figure did not doubt for a moment that it would hit the unenlightened novice before him. This was confidence in his divine palm and in his martial arts!

Grasping the Prajna, realizing the Tathagata in one’s heart, ferrying across the sea of suffering to reach the pure shore!

Between life and death, amidst much terror, Meng Qi suddenly narrowed his eyes, a smile appearing on his face as if savoring the solemnity and purity brought by the palm strike.

Then, a flash of sword light appeared, as if silencing the worldly clamor!

This flash of sword light was poetic and picturesque, reflecting into the black-clad figure’s eyes. His gaze suddenly turned tender, as if recalling the faint fragrance of red sleeves, the gentle murmurs, and the midnight moments kneeling before the Buddha, unable to restore his pure Chan heart.

Then, his eyes displayed a hint of pain, like guilt and self-reproach, yet without a trace of regret.

With purity broken, where is the Prajna? The black-clad figure’s palm force, which had encompassed heaven and earth, returned to an ordinary strike.

Bad! The black-clad figure suddenly awoke from a dream, but it was already too late—the sword light had reached his body!

His pupils violently contracted, completely unexpecting that this seemingly weak novice could unleash such an amazing sword strike!

The light scattered, and the figure retreated.

Meng Qi’s left shoulder bore a deep palm imprint, his body radiating a pale gold hue, like cracked tortoiseshell, its color dimmed.

Meanwhile, the black-clad figure had a deep wound on his abdomen, nearly exposing his writhing internal organs.

Covering his abdomen with his left hand, an energy layer spread out, preventing blood from dripping. He raised his right palm, seemingly ready to attack again.

Meng Qi lowered his shoulder and brandished his sword, once again assuming a desperate stance.

The figure clad in black stepped forward, abruptly bending his body even lower. He fixed Meng Qi with a deep gaze for a moment before swiftly executing a falcon’s somersault and plunging into the forest.

After about seven or eight breaths, footsteps approached noisily from a distance.

“Senior Brother, are you alright?” Zhen Hui dashed in, seeing Zhen Yong lying dead and Meng Qi standing stiffly, and asked with concern.

Meng Qi saw many yellow-robed and gray-robed monks behind him, feeling reassured, and hoarsely said, “Come help me stand.”

He could barely stand anymore!

Although the palm strike from the black-clad figure had its momentum and essence diminished by “Severing Purity,” and its force further weakened under the pressure of Meng Qi’s sword, it remained an attack from an Open Acumen expert. It struck Meng Qi’s left shoulder squarely, nearly shattering his Golden Bell Shield.

“The attacker is certainly not a novice at the Open Aperture stage. Otherwise, the strike wouldn’t have had such an effect,” Meng Qi assessed the black-clad figure’s strength inwardly.

He had cultivated the fourth level of the Golden Bell Shield, which absorbed most of the palm force, so his injuries weren’t too severe. However, after unleashing “Severing Purity,” he felt somewhat exhausted, as it was a sword technique at the peak of the Outer Scenery stage—though Meng Qi had only demonstrated the power of opening four or five acupoints.

Zhen Hui quickly ran to Meng Qi’s side and supported him. Among the monks who had followed, a plain-featured senior monk carefully examined Zhen Yong’s cause of death before approaching Meng Qi to check his injuries.

The other monks began searching the surrounding area.

“The palm force was formidable; the assassin must be a highly skilled martial arts master,” the senior monk nodded slightly. “Unfortunately, this strike was intentionally concealed, making it impossible to determine which school of martial arts it originates from.”

“Venerable, this is a grave matter. I must ask if Zhen Hui has already explained everything clearly to you. Zhen Yong conspired with the murderer to copy the ‘Yi Jin Jing’!” Meng Qi directly stated.

The black-clad figure had fled, leaving Meng Qi exposed while the enemy remained hidden. Meng Qi felt he would be unable to rest or eat in peace, so he exaggerated the severity of the situation to draw sufficient attention, hoping to quickly uncover the mastermind behind it all. As for the “oil-wrapped package” that had fallen, aside from whether it could withstand the pollution of poison liquid and gas, merely mentioning that the secret manual had fallen would prompt Shaolin Temple to send people to search for it—if he didn’t mention it, where had the manual gone? Had it been hidden?

“What? The ‘Yi Jin Jing’?” The questioning senior monk was shocked, as were the surrounding monks who had overheard Meng Qi’s words, their expressions varied but all equally stunned and disbelieving.

“Yes,” Meng Qi, slightly recovered from exhaustion, recounted the entire incident in detail. The monks who had come to rescue him listened with increasing astonishment, as if a demonic land had descended upon their sacred, pure ground.

“This is a serious matter, an extremely serious matter. Xuan Yuan, go report to the Bodhi Hall immediately. Xuan Hua, head to the Precepts Hall,” the plain-faced senior monk before Meng Qi commanded, his face pale and his Zen heart unsettled. This might well be the first instance in the temple’s history that someone had actually stolen one of its treasured manuals.

After the two yellow-robed monks left, he looked at Meng Qi and said, “Venerables, given the gravity of the situation, please understand that I must now search your bodies.”

This was to prevent collusion and fabrication of testimony, concealing the fact that the manual had fallen off the cliff and secretly hiding the copied version of the ‘Yi Jin Jing.’

Meng Qi naturally wanted to prove his innocence to avoid suspicion, as he had nothing to hide—since he needed to practice the Golden Bell Shield, the secret manuals of the Blood Saber Technique and the Divine Step of Hundred Changes were all hidden in his meditation room.

“Disciple understands, Venerable One, but I implore you to swiftly search the monks. A master of Open窍 moving freely within our temple must undoubtedly be one of our Shaolin disciples, and I am certain he employed a Buddhist divine technique,” Meng Qi pressed urgently, eager to apprehend the culprit. “My戒刀 struck his abdomen, leaving a deep wound that will not heal quickly. I beseech you to have each monk’s abdomen examined.”

“The situation is urgent; we must prevent him from taking advantage of the chaos to slash other monks’ abdomens and confuse the investigation.”

“You… you struck his abdomen?” The senior monk asked in disbelief, unable to fathom how a novice monk who had just joined the temple less than a year ago and had definitely not yet reached the Open Aperture stage could injure an Open Aperture expert.

Earlier, when Meng Qi recounted the battle, he deliberately omitted the specifics of the A’nan’s Saber-Breaking Technique. The surrounding monks assumed the black-clad figure had been repelled by Meng Qi’s desperate resistance and their timely intervention. They never imagined he had actually wounded an Open Meridians expert!

“Venerable, circumstances have coincided. Please conduct the search and inspection first,” Meng Qi wouldn’t elaborate further but added, “Venerable, the disciple believes the black-clad figure must be a monk from a nearby courtyard. He must have heard Zhen Hui’s call and, relying on his familiarity with the terrain, came ahead to silence Zhen Yong. Otherwise, if he had been lying in ambush nearby, he wouldn’t have given Zhen Hui the chance to send word.”

“But he was wearing dark clothes, and we arrived quickly…” The senior monk was somewhat skeptical. If the culprit had needed time to change clothes, his advantage of knowing the terrain would have been negated, leaving no opportunity for the crime or escape.

Meng Qi speculated, “Perhaps he was wearing the dark clothes when he met Zhen Yong to exchange the manual tonight. After returning, he hadn’t had time to change yet… Venerable, during the search and inspection, also check which monks from nearby courtyards are missing!”

The more he spoke, the more reasonable it seemed.

“Amitabha, proceed as he suggested,” an old monk in a red kasaya entered at this moment.

The senior monk quickly clasped his palms together, “Greetings to Elder Uncle Wude. The disciple will comply immediately.”

The old monk nodded slightly, indicating no need for ceremony, then turned to Meng Qi and Zhen Hui, reciting a Buddhist chant, “This old monk apologizes.”

He extended his right hand, and with a single empty-handed grab, Meng Qi and Zhen Hui’s robes bulged as if a gentle breeze had brushed over their bodies.

“Zhen Hui, you lead me along the path you took to send the message,” Elder Uncle Wude withdrew his right hand, confirming that Meng Qi and Zhen Hui had no secret manuals on them.

He had Zhen Hui lead the way, fearing that the previous message might have been a cover for hiding the manual during the chaos.

Zhen Hui looked at Meng Qi with concern, worried his senior brother might fall if he left.

Meng Qi smiled at him, moving his limbs to show he had regained considerable strength, before finally leaving the cliffside with Wude.

The other monks began searching every corner between the cliff and the woods, also reaching out from the cliff’s edge to probe the crevices on the steep walls, not missing any spot.

After a while, Wude returned with Zhen Hui and asked Meng Qi about the feeling he had when the murderer launched his attack.

Meng Qi honestly described his experience, and the more Wude listened, the more his eyebrows furrowed. He pondered, “Similar palm techniques are not common…”

At this moment, the previously dispatched senior monk returned, followed by Meng Qi and Zhen Hui’s master, Xuan Bei, as well as Zhen Miao, the martial arts instructor from the Wu Seng Hall whom Meng Qi knew well.

Zhen Miao’s expression was strange, a mix of anger, sorrow, confusion, shock, and disbelief. The senior monk’s expression was similar, while only Xuan Bei remained expressionless.

“Elder Uncle Wude, during the courtyard search just now, the disciple discovered that Zhen Chang had committed suicide in his meditation room, with a clear wound on his abdomen, leaving behind only a letter of last words,” the senior monk reported and handed over the letter, glancing deeply at Meng Qi. How could he have injured Zhen Chang, the strongest disciple of this generation!

Zhen Chang? The senior apprentice brother? Meng Qi was extremely shocked, unable to believe that a promising monk, who had followed the conventional path, would do such a thing with Zhen Yong!

And was it really a suicide?