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Chapter 950: Literary and Martial Dispute

The earth-shattering, ghost-wailing battle among celestial beings created quite a stir. All across Wudang Mountain, nearly everyone, save for the white-robed monk's wife who continued to snore thunderously, rose from their beds. Yet, without exception, no one dared to approach the scene of the commotion.

The battle between Li Chungang and Wang Xianzhi in Wudi City, the individual clashes of the three grandmasters — Xu Fengnian, Deng Ta'a, and Cao Changqing — in Tai'an City, and Cao Changqing's later solo assault on the city, served as stark lessons. These and other major martial arts events, though secondary to the peak battles, had all taught the martial arts world a bloody lesson: unless one possessed comparable strength, it was best not to interfere, or face unavoidable collateral damage. It was practically impossible to critique the techniques of such esteemed martial arts grandmasters. When true top-tier martial arts grandmasters engaged in life-or-death struggles, they certainly wouldn't give lesser individuals the chance to applaud or gape in surprise from the sidelines.

The white-robed monk, his prayer beads absent, sat on a bench before his thatched hut, quietly gazing up at the moon. A tall woman, also dressed in white, appeared before him. The monk did not look at her, merely saying softly, "This lingering attachment, which the world calls suffering, is something only you and I find joy in."

The world's leader of Qi practitioners nodded, then shook her head, saying, "You and I are alike, yet we are also different."

The white-robed monk rubbed his bald head, remarking with a sigh, "My daughter picked up some foolish saying from somewhere at the foot of the mountain: that for women, ten years of cultivation yields a Song Yushu, a hundred years a Xu Fengnian, and a thousand years a Lü Dongxuan."

The woman, a centenarian with the face of a young maiden, murmured sadly, "He doesn't understand."

The white-robed monk sighed, "What's more, I fear he's afraid to pretend he doesn't understand."

Suppressing her emotions, she looked at the white-robed monk. "Regardless, as a Qi practitioner, I will always act according to my true nature."

The white-robed monk simply said, "Oh. In that case, this humble monk won't invite you for tea."

She inquired, "Is that all there is to it?"

Just then, the white-robed monk suddenly recalled a young girl's crisp voice: "Mama, mama! Wake up! Papa is secretly meeting his confidante again!"

The white-robed monk's expression dramatically shifted. He quickly stood up and pleaded, "Sect Master Tantai, please don't leave yet. Help me explain!"

The woman, whose sole purpose was to act on Heaven's behalf, would never bother with such trivial domestic affairs. She simply vanished in a swift movement.

The white-robed monk stiffly turned to see his gloating daughter, his sleepy-eyed, clumsy apprentice, and his furious wife storming out of the house, clutching a cleaver.

A sudden idea struck the white-robed monk, and he declared earnestly, "That woman is over a hundred years old! She's not even from the same generation!"

His wife paused, "That old?"

The white-robed monk nodded vigorously.

His wife rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. She thought, "I'm still as beautiful as a flower; at worst, I'm a mature woman with lingering charm. Why would I compete for affection with a hundred-year-old hag?"

The white-robed monk, secretly wiping away a bead of cold sweat, glared at his daughter.

She made a face and huffed, "It still hurts from Mom pulling my ear earlier today!"

The white-robed monk retorted exasperatedly, "Your father worked hard to save that little bit of private money! Who told you to tell your mother? You brought this upon yourself, didn't you?"

The girl paused, and just as the white-robed monk felt a surge of fatherly relief, believing his daughter had finally seen the error of her ways, she immediately turned and shouted, "Mom! Even though that woman is old, she looks really young! Younger than you!"

Inside the house, an enraged roar, more formidable than a Buddhist lion's roar, instantly echoed: "What?!"

The white-robed monk silently gazed up at the moon, figuring that even the Buddha couldn't save him this time.

The Buddha likely couldn't save this monk, who drank, ate meat, and was married. However, his clumsy apprentice suddenly had a moment of clarity. Mustering courage, he gave his mistress a thorough explanation, actually managing to appease her.

The white-robed monk, having narrowly escaped, rubbed his cheeks and chuckled as he called his clumsy apprentice closer. "Nanbei," he began, "while the moon is bright, the stars are sparse, and your mind is clear, I shall impart profound Buddhist teachings to you..."

The young bald monk sighed. "Master," he said, "you truly are something. At your age, you still haven't learned to settle down. No wonder Mistress has been telling Dongxi and me these past two days that 'flies don't land on a flawless egg.'"

The white-robed monk glared, his eyes like those of a wrathful Vajra.

Unfortunately, his clumsy apprentice showed no fear. Instead, he recited gravely, "Master, the Buddha said: when one goes against their true feelings, attachment arises, followed by hatred and resentment. These must be dispelled by observing the Five Righteousnesses."

The white-robed monk was rendered speechless.

Li Dongxi made a playful, adorable pig face and ambled back into the hut.

The white-robed monk was left with no recourse.

Clumsy Nanbei suddenly whispered, "Master, Dongxi was actually stringing those prayer beads for you all night. She was afraid that if Mistress knew the string was broken, she would worry about the impermanence of life. Dongxi didn't even dare to light an oil lamp, stringing the beads only by the moonlight filtering through the window."

The white-robed monk's face lit up with joy, and he said, as if stating the obvious, "She's my daughter, after all!"

The middle-aged monk, now in high spirits, chuckled, "My apprentice, your master shall continue to impart Buddhist teachings to you."

Though still young, the little monk had already served as a Tripitaka Master at Liangchan Temple. In terms of both monastic seniority and profound understanding of Buddhist dharma, he was, in fact, a truly accomplished and enlightened monk.

The young monk's face suddenly flushed slightly, and he whispered furtively, "Master, let's set aside the Buddhist dharma for a moment. Could you perhaps lend me the three taels of silver hidden with Daoist Han first? Tomorrow, I'll buy Dongxi that Yanliu Lane rouge."

The white-robed monk waved his voluminous sleeve and strode purposefully towards the thatched hut. "The moonlight isn't right tonight," he declared. "It's not suitable for imparting Buddhist teachings!"

The young monk was left to sigh dejectedly.

At the foot of Wudang Mountain, the statue of Emperor Zhenwu strode upwards, enveloped in rising purple qi.

At the summit of the stone steps, where the two figures faced off, Xu Fengnian held the Mountain-Sealing Talisman Blade, its surface shimmering with light.

The Zhang family's Sage remained perfectly composed, his hands hanging loosely, as he lightly shook his sleeves. "You truly have a stubborn nature, one that won't turn back until it hits a wall," he remarked.

Stillness led to action. Xu Fengnian did not launch a charge as swift as thunder and lightning. Instead, he moved with a Taoist teleportation technique, 'Shrinking the Ground into Inches,' instantly appearing before the Zhang family's Sage. He leaped high, twisted his body, and brought his blade down in a diagonal slash. His voluminous sleeves fluttered, giving him the appearance of an immortal soaring through the air.

The Zhang family's Sage raised an arm, extended a single finger, and smiled, saying, "The benevolent delight in mountains."

Xu Fengnian's blade, imbued with immense **gangqi**, was thus brought to a standstill, unable to even graze the old scholar's finger. Between them, it was as if a hundred thousand rolling mountains lay, a mere thread separating them, yet vast as the ends of the earth.

Xu Fengnian, suspended in mid-air, almost simultaneously murmured, "Open the Mountain!" Its underlying concept echoed Li Chungang's declaration, "If the mountain does not come to me, my sword shall cleave the mountain." The move itself resembled Jian Jiu Huang's 'Six Thousand Li.' The blade's tip continued its descent, not with overwhelming force, but slowly and with unyielding resolve.

The Zhang family's Sage, with one hand behind his back, seemed reluctant to truly touch the talisman blade that concealed a flood dragon. Seeing the blade's tip barely an inch from his finger, he frowned and intoned, "The wise delight in mountains!" The hand behind his back subtly flicked his wrist. From the Elephant Washing Pond halfway up the mountain, a magnificent pillar of water, as thick as a well opening, shot swiftly upwards as if a green dragon were drawing water, rushing directly towards the mountaintop.

Simultaneously, the Zhang family's Sage offered the young King no opportunity to retreat or withdraw his blade. He shifted from holding the blade tip with a single finger to gripping the blade with two, declaring, "I'd like to see if you are truly worthy of leading the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry!"

Xu Fengnian, holding the blade in his left hand, maintained his composure. He raised his right hand and brought it down in a powerful palm strike. Thunder and lightning roared within his palm. Immortal's Touch, Severing Longevity!

The Zhang family's Sage had originally directed the long serpent of pond water to strike Xu Fengnian's chest, but was forced to slightly redirect its course to counter the young King's descending palm. Previously, the old scholar had effortlessly dispersed two sleeve-length green snakes with a single palm, displaying an overwhelming and intimidating force. Xu Fengnian's retaliatory palm strike was no less formidable. Between them, dull thunder rumbled, akin to two iron cavalry legions clashing on a narrow battlefield, forced to fight to the death.

Moments later, the Elephant Washing Pond, affected by the Saint's vast aura, churned furiously, its water level having dropped by over a zhang. Both simultaneously exchanged fresh and old Qi. The water column subsided, the Zhang family's Sage slid back several steps, and Xu Fengnian, still holding the talisman blade, gently descended to the ground.

Just then, the Zhenwu statue reached the mountaintop and lunged at the old scholar's back. The Zhang family's Sage did not turn. Instead, he gazed directly at the young king, whose brow glowed with purple and gold, and laughed heartily. "Let me show you, young man, what it means for my Confucian school to cultivate oneself and one's character, and what it means to resonate with Heaven and Earth through vast Qi!"

With that, the old scholar merely stomped his foot lightly. Ordinary martial artists, particularly grandmasters of external boxing styles, emphasize 'inch power' to penetrate the earth and kill snakes and rats. This implies that a single stomp can instantly vibrate any hidden snakes or rats deep underground to death. Yet, the Zhang family's Sage's stomp created no fanfare, seeming no more than an old farmer's casual step in his own crop field.

As the Zhenwu statue was about to reach the summit, a colossal mud statue suddenly appeared behind the Zhang family's Sage, tens of zhangs tall, sitting grandly, level with the peak of Great Lotus Peak! This mud statue, holding a scholar's scroll, was far more universally recognized than the Northern Xuanwu Emperor, who received offerings only in Northern Liang. It could be seen everywhere across the Liyang territory: in the Zhang family's ancestral hall, the imperial palace in the capital, Confucius Temples, academies, and private schools.

The Zhang family's Sage casually flipped his palm and chuckled loudly, "The passage of time, from seas to mulberry fields, is like reading a palm!" The Saint's mud statue behind him then struck the Zhenwu statue with its scholar's scroll. The scroll shattered, and the Zhenwu statue likewise exploded with a resounding crash.

Xu Fengnian quietly commanded, "Rise!"

From where mud and wood chips splattered, a majestic, golden-armored, disheveled giant figure rose. One stood, one sat. One was the Taoist Exalted Heavenly Lord of Demon Subduing, who presided over the north; the other was the Most Holy Master, revered as a deity by scholars. A clash of civilian and martial powers!

The Zhang family's Sage chuckled, "Is this the first-grade Celestial Phenomenon realm, the 'Heavenly Manifestation,' proposed by Gaoshulu of Dafeng? I never imagined you could still sustain such a spectacle with your dwindling personal destiny. What a shame, it's merely a poor family putting on airs!"

The old scholar's smile deepened. "A scholar meeting a soldier, unable to reason with them? That saying is utterly illogical!"

The Saint's mud statue raised an arm, its finger poised to tap. The Zhenwu Dharma Body interlocked its ten fingers into a single fist and brought it down with tremendous force!

The old scholar calmly stated, "I, too, possess profound insights that I wish to share with the world. A scholar, when successful, aids the world and advises the court; when impoverished, he cultivates himself, taking up his brush and turning pages, never forgetting his original aspirations."

Where the Saint's mud statue pointed, thick, snow-white **gangqi**, as massive as temple pillars, continuously erupted. The Zhenwu Dharma Body's arms were pierced through by these blasts, leaving gaping, dark holes. By the time both fists finally struck the mud statue's head, they were already utterly depleted of power. Both of the Zhenwu Dharma Body's arms shattered and dissipated into the air. The Saint's mud statue merely swayed gently, its foundational spirit remaining unharmed. Consequently, the purple-gold aura on the young king's brow gradually faded, while the Zhang family's Sage's imposing presence remained undiminished, and the Saint's mud statue was entirely unscathed.

However, the following scene caught the old scholar completely off guard.

The Zhenwu Dharma Body, despite having lost both arms, actually lifted its head, stomped a foot on the stone steps, leaned forward, and then delivered a devastating headbutt to the Saint's mud statue!

The entire Wudang Mountain shuddered from the impact.

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