Even someone as composed as Zhang Sanfeng couldnât help but feel slightly irritated. In the past, although he had served Master Jueyuan at the Shaolin Temple, it was merely as a menial worker sweeping floors and brewing tea. He had neither taken monastic vows nor formally become a disciple, so it was inaccurate to label him as a Shaolin disciple. The martial arts of the Wudang Sect were entirely of his own later creation. Yet, the Shaolin Temple consistently claimed that he had stolen their martial arts, tarnishing the reputation of Wudangâs martial legacy.
However, Zhang Sanfeng was an easy-going individual. He also remembered that without Master Jueyuan passing on the âNine Yang Scriptureâ to him, all his subsequent martial arts achievements would have lacked a foundation. In a way, it wasnât entirely wrong to say his martial arts originated from Shaolin.
But no matter how magnanimous he was, he couldnât ignore Shaolinâs repeated mockery. Hearing Xuan Chengâs thinly veiled ridicule, Zhang Sanfeng felt a flicker of anger. He replied calmly, âAlthough this poor Taoist doesnât know much about Shaolinâs 72 Ultimate Techniques, all martial arts share a common principle. Over the years, Iâve created my own set of techniques. If Master is interested, our two sects could exchange pointers and perhaps benefit from mutual enlightenment.â
Xuan Cheng was slightly startled. His intention was merely to probe Zhang Sanfengâs true skill, but the latter elevated the matter to a discussion between sects, making it difficult for him to accept lightly. Although Xuan Cheng prided himself as the greatest martial artist Shaolin had seen in over two centuries, Zhang Sanfeng was regarded as a near-mythical figure in the martial world. Xuan Cheng had no absolute confidence in victory, and losing would disgrace Shaolinâs reputation.
Yet Xuan Cheng, adept in mastering thirteen of Shaolinâs ultimate skills, was far from foolish. He quickly devised a plan and said loudly, âAn exchange between Shaolin and Wudang would indeed be beneficial. However, as a senior figure in the martial world, if you face only one junior, it would neither enhance your reputation nor achieve the purpose of our exchange. Why not have my brother Fang Zheng, Junior Brother Xu Zhu, and I seek your guidance together?â
Xuan Cheng was known for his pride and would never normally condescend to join forces with others. But Zhang Sanfengâs fame was too overwhelming. Although he believed he could hold his own against Zhang Sanfeng, Shaolinâs reputation was at stake, and he preferred to err on the side of caution.
Fang Zheng hesitated slightly. While he felt that ganging up was dishonorable, Shaolin monks had long been curious about the extent of Zhang Sanfengâs skills. Yet, Zhang rarely left his mountain, and any Wudang matters in the martial world were handled by his disciples. This rare opportunity was too precious to miss, and Fang Zheng didnât want to pass it up.
As for Xu Zhu, the chance to spar with a legend like Zhang Sanfeng thrilled him. He was more than eager to participate.
Seeing the three monksâ tacit agreement, Song Qingshu grew furious, âWhat a shameless Shaolin Temple, relying on numbers to bully the few! If you insist on seniority, then you two masters are also my elders. In that case, I will assist Esteemed Zhang. Surely, you have no objections to that?â
From Song Qingshuâs perspective, whether it was Xuan Cheng, Fang Zheng, or Xu Zhu, they were among the top-tier martial artists in the martial world. With his current skills, he could handle one of them without issue. Facing two might push him to his limits, but going up against three would leave him no choice but to flee. Though Zhang Sanfeng was immensely skilled, he was over a hundred years old. If anything went wrong mid-battleâŠ
Xuan Cheng sneered. âWith Esteemed Zhangâs status in the martial world, how could he stoop to teaming up against opponents?â
Song Qingshu wanted to argue further, but Zhang Sanfeng smiled gently. âThank you for your kind intentions, young friend. However, it wonât be so easy for the three of them to defeat me.â
Song Qingshu was momentarily stunned. Judging by Zhang Sanfengâs tone, it seemed he didnât take the three monksâ combined efforts seriously, which left Song Qingshu deeply astonished. âI spoke out of turn. Please, Esteemed Zhang, proceed.â
Xuan Cheng, however, also felt slighted and was secretly annoyed. He said coldly, âIf thatâs the case, pardon my offense!â With that, his monkâs robe billowed as he turned into a crimson streak, launching an attack toward Zhang Sanfeng.
Fang Zheng and Xu Zhu exchanged glances but didnât join in immediately. They trusted Xuan Chengâs abilities and decided to let him probe Zhang Sanfengâs strength first.
As Xuan Chengâs palm strike neared, a fierce gust of wind swept through, lifting clouds of yellow sand into the air. Even those not directly targeted by the attack were forced to retreat under the residual force of his palm strike.
Ren Yingying let out a soft cry, instinctively burying her face in Song Qingshuâs chest to shield herself from the flying sand.
Catching a whiff of her faint fragrance, Song Qingshu unexpectedly felt a surge of goodwill toward Xuan Cheng:
âWhat an excellent wingman, this monk!â
Suddenly, Wu Yunzhu cried out in alarm. Song Qingshu turned to see her stumbling backward. Unwilling to see her delicate face harmed by the ground, he extended his other arm like an ape and caught her slender waist, pulling her close.
âThank you, big brother,â Wu Yunzhu said, her face slightly flushed. Mimicking Ren Yingying, she rested her head on Song Qingshuâs arm.
Meanwhile, Ah Zi was protected by You Tanzhi, who had stepped in front of her to block the wind and sand. Naturally, Song Qingshu didnât need to worry about her. However, Ah Zi wasnât the least bit grateful. Instead, she sulked inwardly:
âHmph, that oaf! I was planning to fall into the young masterâs arms, but you ruined everything and let that little girl take advantage!â
Oblivious to the womenâs thoughts, Song Qingshu focused intently on the fight. Though he trusted Zhang Sanfengâs abilities, Xuan Cheng was no ordinary martial artist.
As Xuan Chengâs imposing strike approached, Zhang Sanfeng stood still, smiling serenely. He didnât dodge or evade, letting the palm come within inches of his body. Only then did he leisurely lift his hand and gently push Xuan Chengâs wrist aside.
The instant before the palm landed, Xuan Cheng retracted his power to prevent any leakage, causing the wind and sand to die down significantly. Everyone present, even the untrained Wu Yunzhu, could clearly see Zhang Sanfengâs movementsâhis motions were so slow they seemed exaggerated. Wu Yunzhu even thought she could raise her hand faster than him.
But to everyoneâs astonishment, Zhang Sanfengâs seemingly sluggish movements outpaced Xuan Chengâs attack. His hand arrived just in time to deflect Xuan Chengâs wrist with a soft push. Xuan Cheng felt an unexpected surge of gentle force that left him stumbling to the side.
Ren Yingying glanced up at the man behind her, thinking:
âThis technique of Zhang Sanfengâsâslow yet swiftâis remarkably similar to his earlier swordplay. Could it be that this manâs skills have already reached Zhang Sanfengâs level?â
Xuan Cheng was stunned. He quickly leaped back to put some distance between them. Zhang Sanfeng didnât pursue, instead glancing at the scattered leaves around them and praising, âThe Prajna Palm truly lives up to its reputation as one of Shaolinâs most profound techniques.â
Xuan Cheng snorted. Though the compliment sounded sincere, it stung after his embarrassing failure. Still, he didnât dwell on it, as his first move had been a mere probe, using only half his strength and largely feinting.
Fang Zheng coughed lightly. âThis junior has studied the Thousand-Hand Tathagata Palm for many years. I humbly seek your guidance, Master.â With that, he delivered a soft, floating palm strike.
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