Flower Stealing Master

Jiumozhi knew that if he truly killed Xuan Cheng, it would be a grave offense against the world. However, if he merely crippled him, he could always claim that it was an accident during a duel, leaving Shaolin helpless.

Xuan Ci and the others were blocked by the Flaming Blade Qi and could not come to the rescue in time. They could only watch as Jiumozhi lunged toward Xuan Cheng.

Zhang Sanfeng frowned slightly and was about to move when Song Qingshu took a step forward, subtly blocking his path—whether intentional or not, it was unclear.

Seeing Zhang Sanfeng’s questioning gaze, Song Qingshu chuckled, “Grandmaster, this is a matter between the Tibetan Esoteric Sect and Shaolin Temple. Why should we of Wudang get involved in this mess?”

Zhang Sanfeng was momentarily stunned but quickly understood Song Qingshu’s intentions. He couldn’t help but smile wryly—his grand-disciple’s grudge against Shaolin was indeed extraordinary. Though Zhang Sanfeng was always compassionate, he was not a blind do-gooder. Since Wudang and Shaolin had always been at odds, there was no need for him to stand up for Shaolin.

Just as Xuan Cheng was about to be struck down, a gray shadow suddenly darted in from the side, throwing two fists toward Jiumozhi’s ribs.

Before the fists even landed, Jiumozhi could already feel the chilling force behind them. He knew that if he did not retract his move, Xuan Cheng’s meridians would be utterly shattered, but he himself would not escape unscathed either.

Jiumozhi was ambitious and unwilling to perish alongside Xuan Cheng. He quickly redirected his Flaming Blade attack toward the approaching opponent. In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged more than ten moves.

By this time, the Shaolin monks had also rushed forward. Realizing the danger of being surrounded, Jiumozhi borrowed the momentum of the exchange to leap several feet away. Only then did he clearly see his opponent—a young monk with ordinary features, looking somewhat dull and simple-minded.

However, Jiumozhi was not deceived by appearances. Their brief exchange had allowed him to gauge the opponent’s strength. Although this young monk’s martial prowess might not yet match Xuan Cheng’s, he posed a far greater threat.

The reason was clear—Jiumozhi had sensed that the young monk was also using No Phase Technique! Due to certain circumstances, the No Phase Technique Jiumozhi had acquired was incomplete, leaving a few meridians untrained and preventing him from reaching perfection. Against ordinary opponents, this flaw was insignificant. However, facing another master of No Phase Technique, especially one who had mastered a more complete version, meant he would be at a disadvantage in every way.

During their exchange, Jiumozhi had struck his opponent multiple times, yet his internal force seemed to vanish like a stone sinking into the sea. He knew this was because No Phase Technique came from the same origin—his energy had been assimilated. This only confirmed that the young monk’s No Phase Technique was superior to his own.

That young monk was, of course, Xu Zhu.

Seeing this junior once again, Zhang Sanfeng couldn’t help but sigh, “Shaolin truly produces outstanding talents.”

Song Qingshu remained indifferent. “This Xu Zhu reaching such a level at such a young age is indeed impressive, but that may not be due to Shaolin’s teachings.”

Zhang Sanfeng looked at him in surprise. “Qingshu, so you noticed it too? This young monk’s techniques are all Shaolin martial arts, but his internal cultivation follows an entirely different path. If I’m not mistaken, he should belong to the Xiaoyao Sect. However, when I asked him before, he flatly denied it. Judging by his reaction, he wasn’t pretending. That’s what puzzles me the most.”

“The Xiaoyao Sect? Does such a sect even exist in the martial world?” Ren Woxing asked, looking bewildered. As the leader of the Sun Moon Holy Cult, he had vast knowledge, yet he had never heard of such a sect.

Having read the original story in his past life, Song Qingshu had always admired Xiaoyao Sect’s martial arts. Minute Ice Ripple Step—the ultimate Qinggong technique—was a masterful escape technique while also exuding elegance, making it a perfect tool for impressing women. Northern Darkness Divine Scripture was essentially a cheat ability, allowing one to transform from a novice into a top expert in mere days. Life and Death Talisman, the deadliest hidden weapon technique in Jin Yong’s works, was another awe-inspiring skill.

After arriving in this world, Song Qingshu had set his sights on the Xiaoyao Sect’s martial secrets. Unfortunately, Minute Ice Ripple Step and Northern Darkness Divine Scripture had already been taken by Duan Yu, and the Zhenlong Chess Game event never occurred, leaving him with almost no knowledge of the sect beyond what was described in the original work.

Now, hearing Zhang Sanfeng speak as if he knew much about Xiaoyao Sect, Song Qingshu wasn’t about to waste this opportunity. He quickly asked, “Grandmaster, how much do you know about Xiaoyao Sect?”

He had previously heard from Dongfang Muxue that her brother, Dongfang Bubai, had fought against Xiaoyao Sect’s three elders in an attempt to obtain Northern Darkness Divine Scripture. He wondered if this incident had altered the original storyline.

Zhang Sanfeng shook his head slightly. “The Xiaoyao Sect has always been shrouded in mystery. They have a strict rule—if an outsider hears the name ‘Xiaoyao Sect,’ all members must eliminate them immediately. That is why almost no one in the martial world has heard of them—because those who have are already dead.”

His face showed a hint of nostalgia. “I only learned about Xiaoyao Sect by chance. Many years ago, I encountered a woman in Jiangnan…”

“A woman?” Song Qingshu’s eyebrows twitched, and the flames of gossip ignited in his heart. He had always assumed Zhang Sanfeng was a lifelong celibate, entirely devoted to martial arts. However, after spending time with him, he realized that Zhang Sanfeng had mentioned women on multiple occasions. First, there was Guo Xiang, the heroine who gifted him the Iron Arhat of Shaolin. And now, another woman…

Thinking of Guo Xiang, Song Qingshu felt a bit dazed. In this world, Huang Rong hadn’t even conceived her second child yet, so this Guo Xiang was clearly not the one from his memories.

‘Sigh, I wonder if Huang Rong’s second daughter will still be named Guo Xiang…’  

Song Qingshu couldn’t help but sigh again. For some reason, he felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of that charming, alluring woman carrying another man’s child.

‘Why am I even getting jealous? She and her husband are rightfully married. Having a child together is perfectly normal.’ Song Qingshu inwardly mocked himself.

“Master Zhang, you were received with hospitality at our Shaolin Temple, yet it seems you came with the intention of stirring up trouble!” The Shaolin monks had gathered around, shielding Xuan Cheng behind them. Thinking of Jiumozhi’s repeated deadly attacks, Kong Wen glared angrily at Zhang Sanfeng.

Zhang Sanfeng was taken aback. “What do you mean by that?”

Kongwen sneered, “The Maha Cakra Vajra and that Master Ren both came with you. Every move they made was ruthless and lethal. If they weren’t acting under your instructions, how would they dare be so audacious?”

“This…” Zhang Sanfeng was momentarily speechless. He had been reluctant to travel alongside Ren Woxing and Jiumozhi for precisely this reason.

Song Qingshu, eager to hear more about Zhang Sanfeng’s past, was annoyed at being interrupted. “Master, your accusation is baseless. Master Ren is the leader of the Sun Moon Holy Cult, and the Maha Cakra Vajra is the national master of Tibet. Both are figures of great authority—why would they take orders from my grandmaster? Grandmaster only came to investigate the Prajna Palm technique. It was your temple’s disciples who provoked the conflict, leading to this mess. Who can you blame?”

“Hmph!” Kong Wen snorted. “The monks in our temple who know Prajna Palm would never be involved in the disappearance of Wudang’s men. You clearly came here just to cause trouble.”

“We came all this way, and you expect us to leave empty-handed just because you say so?” Song Qingshu retorted.

Xuan Ci raised a hand to silence Kongwen. “Speaking of Prajna Palm, isn’t the Great Wheel Ming King also a master of it? Why not ask him?”

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