Chapter 188
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Once Zhang Chengyue had walked away, Zhang Xiaohua turned and bowed to the young monk in white robes, saying: “I am Zhang Xiaohua from Huanxi Villa. Please, let’s exchange pointers.”
The young monk brought his hands together in a prayer gesture and replied: “I am Yuan Liao from Dalin Temple’s Law Enforcement Hall. Please give me some advice.”
Seeing that his opponent had finished bowing, Zhang Xiaohua clenched his fists and was about to launch into his Big Dipper Divine Fist when Yuan Liao said: “Please, hold on a moment.”
Zhang Xiaohua paused, surprised. “Is there something else?”
Yuan Liao asked: “You aren’t a disciple of the Piaomiao Sect?”
Zhang Xiaohua nodded. “Yes. How did you know?”
Yuan Liao smiled: “I heard you talking to that Senior Brother Zhang earlier. Besides, didn’t you introduce yourself as being from Huanxi Villa?”
Zhang Xiaohua realized he hadn’t paid attention to such details.
Yuan Liao continued: “Since you’re not officially a Piaomiao Sect disciple, how do you qualify to participate in the Martial Arts Competition?”
Zhang Xiaohua blinked, responding mysteriously: “That’s a matter between Huanxi Villa and the Piaomiao Sect. It’s confidential, so please forgive me for not being able to answer.”
Yuan Liao, seemingly unsatisfied, pressed on: “When Senior Uncle Zhang asked if you were confident in winning, why did you say you were only confident in getting a draw?”
Zhang Xiaohua responded irritably: “You little monk, you’re really something, aren’t you? What I say to others is my own business. Eavesdropping without permission is an invasion of my privacy! And now you’re still prying? Do you even want to have this match? Look at the other platforms—they’re already in the thick of battle.”
Yuan Liao replied calmly: “As the saying goes, ‘Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will always be victorious’. I’m just gathering information on you. In a moment, I’ll share some about myself with you. What do you think?”
Zhang Xiaohua shook his head. “Not interested.”
Yuan Liao said: “My information is a secret. Aren’t you curious?”
At the mention of the word “secret,” Zhang Xiaohua’s eyes lit up. “Alright, but once I share, you have to tell me your secret.”
Yuan Liao nodded in agreement.
Zhang Xiaohua explained: “I’ve participated in twelve matches in the Martial Arts Competition, and ten of them ended in a draw. So, when I say I’m confident in a draw, I mean it. Do you understand?”
Yuan Liao’s eyes darted around as he casually asked: “With such poor results, how did you make it to the third round?”
Zhang Xiaohua didn’t mind and replied: “I was already the lowest-ranked contestant in the second round—my badge number is 250, the last one. Advancing to the third round was all luck. I got a bye round, you know?”
Yuan Liao curled his lips and said: “I see. Alright, I have just one last question for you.”
Zhang Xiaohua, growing exasperated, said: “Are you ever going to stop? Don’t you want to compete?”
Yuan Liao smiled: “It’s truly the last question. You just need to answer yes or no.”
Zhang Xiaohua frowned. “It better be the last one.”
Yuan Liao asked, “You don’t know Qinggong, do you?”
Zhang Xiaohua’s face flushed. He had actually started to grasp the floating technique, but it was still underdeveloped, so claiming he did know it would be a stretch.
He reluctantly nodded: “Yes.”
Quickly changing the subject, he asked: “Now, tell me your secret.”
With a mysterious smile, Yuan Liao said: “My secret is simple. Even though I’m here on platform five, I’m actually the most skilled among the three of us.”
Zhang Xiaohua laughed and naturally glanced at the other platforms, where intense battles were taking place. “I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to fool me.”
Yuan Liao didn’t correct him but simply said: “Since you don’t believe me, very well—number 250, Zhang Xiaohua, take this!”
With that, he moved like a wisp of smoke, instantly closing the gap between them. His body left several blurred afterimages in the air, a testament to his exceptional Qinggong skills.
Realizing the danger, Zhang Xiaohua muttered: “This little monk is actually tricking me!”
Before he could finish his words, Yuan Liao had already closed in, his fingers darting like rapid notes on a pipa, striking Zhang Xiaohua’s acupuncture points all over his body. In a single swift movement, Yuan Liao sealed thirty-six major acupuncture points on Zhang Xiaohua’s body. Then, with a flicker of movement, he appeared behind Zhang Xiaohua, standing tall with his hands behind his back, looking down at the crowd below with an air of lonely detachment.
At that moment, the little bald monk Yuan Liao, dressed in pristine white robes, stood elegantly at the edge of the platform. All he was missing was a fan in hand to complete the look. His poise rivaled that of a charismatic gentleman, embodying the grace of a figure as charming as a “jade tree in the wind”.
To be fair, Yuan Liao had every right to show off. Not only was his appearance striking, but his masterful use of acupuncture point techniques was exceptional, surpassing even the skills of most Cloth-Robe Third Level disciples of the Piaomiao Sect.
It was well-known that acupuncture point techniques required channeling internal energy into specific points on the body, a feat that demanded concentrated skill. Condensing one’s internal energy to the needle-fine precision needed for this technique was nearly impossible without ten years of intense training. In Piaomiao Sect, only Cloth-Robe Fourth Level disciples, after reaching a certain degree of internal mastery and passing an assessment, were selectively taught this technique.
This explained why Zhang Xiaohua hadn’t encountered acupuncture point techniques in his previous Cloth-Robe First Level matches.
Piaomiao Sect did have a few exceptionally talented individuals who began practicing these techniques at the Cloth-Robe Third Level. But mastery on Yuan Liao’s level, with such profound internal energy, was incredibly rare. Only Cloth-Robe Fourth Level disciples could typically compare to him.
Thus, when Yuan Liao said he was the strongest among the three monks, it was no exaggeration.
No wonder he stood at the edge, letting the wind lift his monk robes, his face full of a lonely pride. It was the solitude of a genius.
As Yuan Liao enjoyed his dramatic stance on the platform, basking in the increasingly astonished gazes from the Piaomiao Sect disciples below and relishing the growing silence around platform five, he thought to himself: “What a bunch of country bumpkins. Have they never seen a genius before?”
Ah, such a level to reach—such admiration! Wasn’t this exactly the state Elder Changgeng had asked him to aspire to?
But just as Yuan Liao was reveling in his self-satisfaction, he sensed something amiss. The increasingly astonished looks from the disciples weren’t directed at him but were fixed on something beyond him. Suddenly, he felt a pang of unease. As he began to turn his head to look, a loud shout came from behind him: “Get off the platform!”
Then, a powerful force struck Yuan Liao squarely in the butt, as though a foot had kicked him right off the platform. Realizing the danger, Yuan Liao tried to steady himself by sinking into a horse stance, but the strength behind the kick was so immense that he couldn’t maintain his footing.
In an instant, he was tumbling off the platform.
However, in a quick display of skill, Yuan Liao tapped his left foot with the tip of his right toe, channeling internal energy from his dantian, lifting himself back up, and performing a mid-air twist like a kite to return to the platform. The crowd gasped in astonishment.
But before he could land on the platform, a small fist suddenly appeared in his line of sight, aiming directly at his face. With a sneer, Yuan Liao raised his hand to intercept the punch, intending to use the momentum to pull himself back onto the platform. However, as he was about to make contact, the fist quickly retracted, only for another punch to shoot toward his face. At that moment, his old strength was spent and his new strength was not yet gathered. With his internal energy momentarily disrupted, he paused mid-air, realizing he had no choice but to grab hold of the incoming fist if he wanted any chance of returning to the platform. So he gritted his teeth and stretched out his hand towards that fist.
This time, the fist didn’t pull back. It came straight for his palm. Yuan Liao laughed in his heart—if he could latch onto that fist, even if he couldn’t get back on the platform, he could pull his opponent down with him, making the outcome uncertain.
But as fists and palms collided, a surge of force even stronger than before instantly struck Yuan Liao down. If it were a normal situation, with his inner strength flowing continuously or if he were standing on solid ground, Yuan Liao would have had hundreds or even thousands of ways to dodge. However, at this moment, his new strength had not yet risen, his inner force had stalled, and he was still mid-air—what other outcome could there be?
The crowd watched as the white-robed figure fell to the ground with no way to resist.
The disciples gathered around platform five were utterly bewildered. The two on the platform had been murmuring to each other for some time while the other platforms had long since started their matches. Suddenly, just as Zhang Xiaohua glanced away toward the other platforms, the white-robed young monk unleashed a series of acupuncture strikes, sealing thirty-six of Zhang Xiaohua’s acupoints. The disciples were stunned—what kind of genius was this, able to perform acupuncture techniques at such a young age?
What shocked the crowd even more was what happened next. The young monk, skilled in acupuncture, was standing confidently at the edge of the platform, while the number 250 disciple, whom he had supposedly immobilized, seemed unaffected. Zhang Xiaohua looked around, scratching his head, glancing left and right, then looked at the young monk at the platform’s edge, as if wondering why the monk had suddenly stopped attacking and decided to stand on the platform’s edge himself.
Facing the amazed stares of the disciples below, number 250 shrugged and made a funny face. Then, with a loud shout, he launched a kick in the form of “Falling Wild Goose Style”, sending the young monk flying off the platform!
Even as the white-robed little monk landed on the ground, stunned, the disciples gathered around platform five could hardly believe their eyes. Was this a competition or an act?
But the young monk from Dalin Temple had indeed been kicked off the platform, meaning the supposed weakest participant—number 250—had been the first to defeat a Dalin Temple monk!
What level of skill was this?!
The disciples around platform five stood dumbfounded for a moment before erupting in thunderous cheers, forgetting all about sect rules and decorum.
The cheers were so loud that they distracted the matches on the other four platforms. Many fighters lost focus, including Tang Shi on platform one, who had been struggling. Inspired by the familiar cheers, he suddenly gained the upper hand, fighting with increasing vigor until he finally forced his opponent off the platform, securing a second victory.
The remaining two matches between Piaomiao Sect disciples went in favor of the challengers, who, encouraged by the atmosphere, quickly overcame their opponents and passed their trials.
Only on platform four did the Piaomiao Sect challenger fall short, losing to the Dalin Temple monk.
The Piaomiao Sect’s success was beyond everyone’s expectations.
From the moment Zhang Xiaohua climbed onto the platform, Ou Peng and Monk Changgeng had been closely watching the events on platform five.
Monk Changgeng’s focus on platform five was understandable, given that Yuan Liao was his star disciple. As for Ou Peng, he couldn’t ignore Elder Changgeng’s interest in platform five. As the saying goes, “What the enemy desires, I must also desire”. Since he was paying close attention to platform five, Ou Peng naturally directed more of his own attention there as well. Moreover, the challenger on platform five had delayed getting on stage, which had already frustrated Ou Peng, making him glance over multiple times. He even wondered if this lowest-ranked disciple was avoiding the fight out of stage fright.
But when Zhang Xiaohua agilely climbed onto the platform, both Ou Peng and Monk Changgeng realized what was going on, and their thoughts changed drastically.
Ou Peng’s reaction was a mixture of surprise and pleasure.
The surprise came from the unexpected appearance of Zhang Xiaohua, the young boy from Huanxi Villa’s herb field, who had somehow made it into the third round of the Martial Arts Competition. When he’d heard Zhang Chengyue announce platform five and mention the number 250, Ou Peng had felt a hint of curiosity. Now that he knew it was Zhang Xiaohua, things made sense—Ou Peng knew a bit about his background and considered it remarkable that he’d made it this far. If Zhang Xiaohua wasn’t the last-ranked disciple, who else could be?
The pleasure was simple: since Monk Changgeng was focusing on this platform, he was clearly confident in this match. And as the saying goes, “Tian Ji races horses—avoid weaknesses, play to strengths”. Zhang Xiaohua, being the lowest-ranked contestant, had attracted one of Dalin Temple’s best monks. While Zhang Xiaohua would likely lose, sacrificing their weakest “horse” against Dalin Temple’s strongest was a favorable outcome for Ou Peng. Besides, this “horse” wasn’t even truly his, so what did he care about Zhang Xiaohua’s success or failure?
While Ou Peng felt inwardly pleased, Monk Changgeng’s expression darkened.
Yuan Liao, as he himself had claimed, was indeed the most skilled of the young monks. Monk Changgeng had hoped to use him to put Piaomiao Sect’s young disciples to shame. Yet, Yuan Liao’s first opponent turned out to be someone so weak that it was almost absurd (after all, what could be weaker than a disciple who hadn’t even mastered Qinggong?). While Yuan Liao would easily win this match, the chance to make a meaningful statement was lost.
Meanwhile, Zhang Xiaohua and Yuan Liao were chatting on the platform as if they were old acquaintances. Monk Changgeng’s eyes flickered with a new idea, and after a brief moment of contemplation, he said to Ou Peng: “Sect Master Ou, I seem to have realized a potential issue with the rules we discussed earlier. I’d like to make a slight amendment.”
Ou Peng felt a sudden jolt of apprehension and cautiously asked: “How does the Elder wish to amend the rules?”
Monk Changgeng smiled and said: “Just now, we only discussed the outcome of a single match. Naturally, those who lose can no longer participate in further matches. But what about the winning disciples? Shouldn’t they be allowed to continue in the next matches?”
Ou Peng inwardly gritted his teeth, thinking: “This old bald donkey—he’s the one who made the rules. What am I supposed to say? He never mentioned how to handle subsequent matches if his disciples won. Now he’s only concerned because his disciple got a weak opponent and fears that if he can only compete in one match, he won’t get the chance to show off more.”
Feigning a thoughtful expression, Ou Peng replied: “Then let it be as the Elder suggests. Those who lose cannot compete further, but those who win may participate in the subsequent matches.”
In truth, while Ou Peng pretended to consider the proposal, Yuan Liao had already initiated his acupuncture technique. However, such a technique didn’t merit much attention from either Ou Peng or Monk Changgeng, so they casually observed the match while talking. As Zhang Xiaohua glanced around with his usual antics, seemingly unaffected by the acupoint strikes, Ou Peng was in the middle of speaking.
Just as Ou Peng finished his sentence, Zhang Xiaohua sent Yuan Liao flying off the platform with a kick!
One couldn’t deny the timing between the two was perfectly synchronized.
On the other hand, Monk Changgeng was shocked to see Yuan Liao kicked off the platform and, in a moment of uncharacteristic surprise, even began to rise from his seat. Realizing his lapse in composure, he quickly sat back down just in time to catch the tail end of Ou Peng’s words. Furious, he thought: “This guy must have coordinated with that kid on the platform, waiting for me to finish speaking before he made his move! If he’d acted sooner, I could have amended the rules to allow defeated contestants to re-enter. But now, what’s been said is like water spilled—there’s no taking it back.”
Monk Changgeng glanced at the platform with a heavy heart and nodded reluctantly, clearly displeased.
Ou Peng, watching Monk Changgeng’s awkward expression, felt delighted and thought to himself: “Is this what they call ‘Man proposes, but Heaven disposes’?”
At this moment, Zhang Chengyue returned to the reed-mat pavilion. After leaping down from the platform earlier, he couldn’t use Qinggong to avoid drawing attention, so he walked back step by step. Facing away from the platform, he hadn’t noticed that the match on platform five had already ended by the time he returned. Hearing the thunderous cheers behind him, he naturally turned around and saw Zhang Xiaohua standing there alone, proudly clasping his fists in victory. Zhang Chengyue was completely puzzled.
Seeing Zhang Chengyue approach, Ou Peng beckoned him over and whispered in his ear; “What’s going on with that Zhang fellow?”
Zhang Chengyue leaned in and replied: “It’s Zhang Xiaohua. I haven’t figured out exactly what happened, but since he won, we can ask him later.”
Ou Peng nodded with a smile.
Shortly after, the matches on all five platforms concluded, and the Piaomiao Sect disciples leaped down from the platforms. The three young monks from Dalin Temple returned to the pavilion, standing in line and bowing with palms together before Monk Changgeng. Two of them wore expressions of shame, while the white-robed little monk’s face was flushed with embarrassment.
Monk Changgeng, to his credit, managed a rare smile and said: “It’s alright, it’s alright. I brought you here to Piaomiao Sect to exchange skills and keep you from becoming too sheltered. This way, you won’t think of yourselves as the best in the martial world. Now that you’ve had a match with Piaomiao Sect’s disciples, you know you’re just frogs in a well. When we return, you’ll need to train even harder so as not to waste today’s lesson.”
Whether the three monks took his words to heart or not was unclear, but they simply bowed and moved to stand behind Monk Changgeng.