Chapter 939: Instant Enlightenment

Chai Qingshan and his group were approaching the archway. Chai Qingshan stood beneath it, nodding in greeting, while beside him, Qi Xianxia remained composed, neither obsequious nor arrogant.

Meanwhile, Feng Zongxi and Lu Jiejun, two renowned figures in the martial arts world, were actually "rising stars" compared to martial arts grandmasters like Chai Qingshan, who enjoyed genuine fame both in the jianghu and at court. Both respectfully bowed to the young prince, announcing their names aloud.

Xu Fengnian lightly raised a hand and chuckled, "Today, I am merely a pilgrim at Wudang Mountain. There's no need for such formality, gentlemen."

Li Dongxi secretly made a face.

Xu Fengnian smiled knowingly.

She coughed lightly and winked at him.

Xu Fengnian tried to maintain a serious expression as he said, "Let me introduce you to Miss Li. She is a most chivalrous and righteous person, skilled in martial arts, known in the jianghu as..."

Xu Fengnian paused briefly, quickly turned to look at her, and winked back.

Back when they first ventured into the jianghu together, one of their favorite things to do was to give themselves nicknames. At that time, apart from Old Huang, the three young martial arts rookies were rather naive. The names they could come up with were mostly like Feng Zongxi's "Divine Fist of the Central Plains"—designed to intimidate, the grander-sounding, the better. That runaway girl, Li Zi, had come up with no less than twenty nicknames for herself. She even sagely lectured Xu Fengnian and the fellow with the wooden sword, saying, "As martial artists, there are only mistaken names, but never mistaken nicknames! Therefore, people in the jianghu must be extremely careful when choosing nicknames!"

After seeing her mouth the words, Xu Fengnian continued seamlessly, "She's known in the jianghu as the 'Profound Immortal,' because Miss Li is proficient in every weapon—blades, swords, spears, and staffs—blending them into her unique style, truly capable of founding her own school."

The young girl, forgetting her dignified martial artist pose, quickly reminded him, "What about my lightness skill? Don't forget to mention my lightness skill!"

Xu Fengnian had no choice but to dutifully add, "Immortal Li's lightness skill is also exceptional, truly unrivaled in the martial arts world."

Seasoned jianghu veterans like Feng Zongxi and Lu Jiejun were incredibly sharp-sighted. Although they weren't entirely sure what play the young prince was performing, they still enthusiastically went through the full set of jianghu courtesies with the young girl.

After formal exchanges of greetings, she, having fully indulged her fantasy of being a martial heroine, couldn't stop smiling.

Suddenly, she whispered, "Xu Fengnian, do you still remember our old agreement?"

Xu Fengnian nodded with a smile.

When living life, if you can lie down, never stand.

When venturing into the jianghu, if you can fly, never walk!

She unceremoniously patted Xu Fengnian's shoulder.

Xu Fengnian said to everyone, "Excuse me, but I must go on ahead."

He then squatted down and, after she climbed onto his back, his figure shot up like a flying rainbow from the ground.

The two arrived at the summit of Great Lotus Peak. Xu Fengnian was still carrying the young martial heroine on his back, just as he used to when she got tired.

She lay on his back and whispered, "Xu Fengnian, you've always treated me like a younger sister, haven't you?"

Xu Fengnian hummed in affirmation.

She suddenly laughed, "It's alright!"

Xu Fengnian turned his head slightly, his face a little strained, and said, "That hurts my feelings."

She bumped her forehead against his.

Xu Fengnian turned his head back, his face full of smiles.

She hugged his neck, cautiously asking, "Xu Fengnian, if I take clumsy Nanbei and leave Beiliang, will you be angry?"

Xu Fengnian chuckled softly, "Of course not. War isn't for you, a martial heroine who roams the jianghu, or Nanbei, a vegetarian monk who chants scriptures. Why would you get involved?"

She sniffled.

Xu Fengnian comforted her, "I'll definitely come looking for handouts from you two in the future."

She didn't speak.

Amidst the mountains and rivers, the young girl's thoughts surpassed all landscape poetry.

As they neared the girl's home, a hastily built thatched hut, a white-robed, middle-aged monk who had been sighing on a small bench in front of the house, doing his wife's laundry, saw the sight. He immediately dropped his washboard, rose abruptly, and strode towards the simple hut.

Li Dongxi quickly hopped off his back and loudly told Xu Fengnian, "Run for it!"

Xu Fengnian, without a word, immediately made a quick getaway.

The white-robed monk soon stormed out of the house, wielding a cleaver, looking around with murderous intent.

This murderous aura was perhaps no less impressive than Deng Ta'a's presence earlier at the foot of the mountain, wielding his Ta'a sword.

It should be known that in the world of old, Cao Changqing's Celestial Phenomenon Realm was universally acknowledged as the most elegant, Deng Ta'a's Profound Finger Sword as the most divine, and finally, Li Dangxin's Vajra Realm from Two Zen Temple as the most invincible!

Li Dangxin's presence was such that he was a Buddha whether lying, sitting, or standing.

In this world, only two people were truly unafraid of Li Dangxin:

His wife and his daughter.

The young girl happened to be one of them, so she completely ignored her father. With her hands clasped behind her back, humming a tune, she leisurely went off to wander elsewhere.

Ah, this daughter who didn't seem to care for her father.

The white-robed monk sighed heavily, put down the cleaver, sat on the bench, and continued scrubbing the clothes.

When Xingshang arrived in front of the hut, he heard his master muttering to himself.

Xingshang pulled up a bench and sat down, asking, "Master, are you chanting scriptures?"

"You could say that. It's just a particularly difficult scripture to recite. Every household and every temple has its own 'difficult scripture' to deal with."

"But Master, the old abbot said that scriptures are the easiest things to recite in the world."

"That's why he's the abbot, and you, well, you can only be the abbot's disciple's disciple."

"Sigh, Master, what if I can't find a disciple in the future?"

"If our temple hadn't been sealed off, it would be simple. On a dark and windy night, I'd go with you, bring a large sack, and we'd just grab a little bald-headed kid. But now it's difficult."

"Master..."

"My disciple is truly far inferior to the old abbot's disciple."

"Master, why don't you just say I'm not as good as you?"

"That won't do. What kind of shameless master would say that?"

"Master, today Yufu helped people interpret prophecies and tell fortunes, and even wrote a family letter for someone. Those two elderly people insisted on giving Yufu money, and Yufu couldn't refuse. Knowing that we, master and disciple, often have expenses, they pressed the money on your disciple. Your disciple will return it to them now."

"Nanbei, your master is actually very proud to have a disciple like you."

"Master, I'm definitely giving this money to Mistress. By the way, where is Mistress?"

"Your Mistress? She's sleeping. Everyone loves to sleep, but few truly understand its profundity. Otherwise, why would the ancients say, 'Among all external pursuits, deep sleep is the wisest'? Your Mistress, she's even more formidable than your Master."

"Master, your disciple only knows that Mistress's snoring is formidable, and Master's ability to sleep more soundly than anyone else is even more formidable."

"Hmm? Clumsy Nanbei, you've made progress."

"Heh."

The two bald heads, one large and one small, almost simultaneously rubbed their own heads.

The white-robed monk stroked his head, gazed into the distance, and said softly, "Every strand of black hair on your Mistress's head is a temple in your master's heart. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes are scriptures your master never tires of reading. Her snoring while she sleeps is the Buddhist Dharma your master never tires of hearing."

Xingshang was dumbfounded, unsure why his master had suddenly become so poetic.

Then, from behind them, Mistress let out a soft snort and playfully chided, "You idiot!"

Xingshang turned to glance at Mistress, who was walking into the house, then looked back at his master's serene face and sighed, "Oh, Master."

The white-robed monk didn't look up, instead rubbing the clothes as he softly said, "Your Mistress thinks she doesn't look good with rouge on, but she only wants to hear your master say she looks good. What she doesn't know is that, in your master's eyes, she always looks so beautiful, as beautiful as can be."

Xingshang mumbled hesitantly, "Master, Master, Mistress has already gone far away."

The white-robed monk murmured, "Are worries and purity far apart? Not far. Are the mundane world and Western Paradise far apart? Not far. Are Yin and Yang, life and death, far apart? Not far. Then your Mistress and your Master are naturally very close."

Xingshang, bewildered, genuinely admired him, saying, "Master, you truly have a root of wisdom!"

The white-robed monk gave his 'clumsy' disciple a flick on his bald head. "Asking for a beating, are we? What kind of disciple praises his master for having a root of wisdom?!"

Xingshang looked innocent.

The middle-aged monk, still facing away from the hut, lowered his voice, "Has your Mistress really gone far?"

Xingshang turned his head and then back again in an instant, a movement clearly practiced to perfection. He nodded and said in a low voice, "Mistress has closed the hut door!"

The middle-aged monk murmured, "Oh."

Xingshang sighed and moved the water bucket and washboard.

The white-robed monk smiled faintly and praised, "My disciple, you also have a root of wisdom."

Xingshang remained silent.

The white-robed monk folded his hands on his knees, leaned back slightly, and looked up at the sky.

All the scriptures and Buddhist Dharma in the world, this poor monk has fully comprehended.

All the beautiful scenery and good times in the world, this poor monk has witnessed.

Only that face, often heavily rouged, he could never see enough of.

The white-robed monk smiled, rubbing his own head, "Instant Buddhahood."