Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils: The Successor of Bodhidharma

Page 29

After several rounds of tea, Qiao Tian put down his teacup and looked at Li Yan's fair, slender, and seemingly delicate hands. He asked casually, "Eunuch Li, I have a personal question, but I don't know if I should ask it."

"Please speak freely, Sect Leader Qiao."

"The martial arts my father-in-law practices are extremely advanced, and his energy circulation is incredibly strange, seemingly quite different from ordinary martial arts styles, yet it subtly aligns with some profound principle of the universe... I wonder..."

Upon hearing this, a subtle hint of surprise flashed in Li Yan's eyes, which quickly transformed into a profound understanding. He gently stroked the warm cup, remained silent for a moment, and then slowly spoke, his voice lowered slightly: "Sect Leader Qiao has excellent eyesight. This skill... is a taboo subject in the palace and should not be known to outsiders."

He raised his eyes, his gaze seemingly piercing through the sea of ​​clouds, looking into the depths of the imposing Forbidden City.

"This skill is indeed a work of extraordinary skill. When mastered to its highest level, it can not only preserve one's youthful appearance and slow down aging, but also... allow one to transcend the limitations of heaven and earth and comprehend some of the profound mysteries of the universe." Li Yan's tone carried a hint of longing that was barely perceptible, which then turned into deep awe. "This skill is called—the Sunflower Manual."

Qiao Tian's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.

Li Yan continued, his voice growing increasingly low: "However, does Sect Leader Qiao know that what we eunuchs serving His Majesty can practice is nothing more than the 'Human Chapter' of the Sunflower Manual."

"The Human Chapter?" Qiao Tian's heart skipped a beat.

“Indeed.” Li Yan nodded. “The Sunflower Manual was created by an ancestor who served the Emperor. It is divided into three parts: Heaven, Earth, and Man. What we can access is only the most basic ‘Man’ part. It is said that the ‘Earth’ part is profound and beyond the imagination of ordinary people; and the highest ‘Heaven’ part… hehe, that is even more ethereal and cannot be fathomed by anyone without great fortune and enlightenment. Even this ‘Man’ part has already benefited us immensely.”

Qiao Tian's hand holding the teacup froze in mid-air, his mind in turmoil.

The Sunflower Manual... is it merely the "Human Chapter"? Then what unimaginable level of skill must the "Ancestor" who created this technique and likely mastered the entire manual have reached? Mid-stage Grandmaster? Or... even higher?

A strange sense of crisis, like a winter chill, instantly swept over Qiao Tian, ​​sending a shiver down his spine. He had always believed that through his own opportunities and hard work, he had reached the pinnacle of the world, enough to control his own and his family's fate. Only now did he realize that beneath the overwhelming power of the heavens, the depths of the imperial court were far more terrifying than he had imagined.

"Sect Leader Qiao? Sect Leader Qiao?" Li Yan called out several times when he saw that he was lost in thought.

Qiao Tian snapped back to his senses, suppressed his shock, forced a smile, picked up the teapot to cover it up, and said, "It's nothing, I just had a feeling. Come, Eunuch Li, have some tea, have some tea."

He refilled their teacups, the rising steam blurring their expressions, but it couldn't dispel the heavy cloud that had suddenly gathered in Qiao Tian's heart.

Chapter 92 The Great Wheel King, Riding the Dharma Carriage of Wudang

Inside the Zhenwu Hall, incense smoke swirled, creating a solemn and dignified atmosphere.

Qiao Tian stood with his hands behind his back on the high platform, his gaze piercing through the open palace doors, as if crossing thousands of mountains and rivers, landing in the direction of Shaoshi Mountain. His figure was as upright as a pine tree, his aura blending with the entire hall and even the entire Wudang Mountain, containing unfathomable power in his tranquility.

"Qingfeng." His voice was not loud, but it clearly carried to every corner of the hall.

A young disciple dressed in a blue Taoist robe with bright eyes stepped forward and respectfully bowed, saying, "Disciple is here."

"Issue my order," Qiao Tian said calmly, yet with an undeniable resolve, "In the name of Wudang, produce invitations and distribute them to all sects and factions in the martial arts world."

He paused slightly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes, and added, holding a list in his hand, "Especially since you personally checked this list, make sure not a single person is missed, and that you 'invite' them here."

"In addition, Tianlong Temple in Dali and the Duan royal family of Dali are also among those invited."

He raised his hand and pointed to the sky outside the hall, his gaze sharp as lightning: "The time is set for... the 22nd of the twelfth lunar month! The place is Shaolin Temple!"

The Qingfeng disciple was startled. Although he did not understand the deeper meaning, he bowed without hesitation and accepted the order: "I will obey the sect leader's decree!"

Qiao Tian nodded slightly, his voice suddenly rising, carrying an overwhelming and irresistible aura that resounded throughout the hall: "At that time, I, the successor of the Wudang Sect Leader, will personally go to Shaolin to seek instruction from the Shaolin Holy Monk, Mr. Xuzhu, on Buddhist and Taoist scriptures."

"A challenge is to be sent to Shaolin immediately!"

"Yes!" Qingfeng disciple solemnly replied, quickly leaving the main hall to make arrangements.

Silence returned to the hall. Qiao Tian stood alone on the high platform, his eyes deep and unfathomable. This move was intended to strike at the root of the problem. At this pivotal moment in history, before the heroes of the world, he wanted to sever the shackles of tragedy for his younger brother, Qiao Feng, and expose all the conspiracies and injustices to the world!

Just then, a strange commotion came from the foot of the mountain, breaking the tranquility of the mountain. The sound was faint at first, but then grew louder and louder, and it sounded like chanting, accompanied by the solemn and strange sounds of a procession.

At the foot of Wudang Mountain, two ornately decorated sedan chairs in the Tibetan style did not touch the ground. Instead, each chair was lifted three feet off the ground by eight red-robed lamas using their refined internal energy, as if riding the wind, and sped up the stone steps leading up the mountain.

On either side of the sedan chair stood four lamas, their faces solemn, their hands constantly pulling handfuls of palm-leaf scriptures from their cloth bags and scattering them with great force. The scriptures, like golden snowflakes, danced in the air, covering the mountain path, the Sanskrit texts gleaming in the sunlight, exuding the majesty of Buddhist teachings.

Behind the sedan chair followed two rows of wiry Tibetan warriors, each with bulging temples, clearly possessing considerable martial arts skills. They held aloft gilded plaques inscribed with...

"Tibetan National Preceptor"

"Darinmeiou"

The Buddha's teachings are boundless.

The warriors shouted in unison, their voices booming like thunder echoing through the valley:

"The Tibetan National Preceptor, the Great Wheel King, the Dharma Master of the Wudang Sect! All others, step aside and respectfully welcome the Buddha's light!"

This pomp and circumstance were truly impressive, showcasing the majesty of the Tibetan national preceptor to the fullest extent, and exuding an undeniable domineering aura.

However, in stark contrast to the solemnity of the sedan chair in front was the one behind. The curtain was lifted, revealing a disheveled, unrestrained figure—it was Xuancheng! He was utterly devoid of any semblance of a high monk; one foot was propped up on the sedan chair window, fingers fidgeting with his toes. Looking at the sky full of scriptures and the solemn procession, he couldn't help but clap his hands, stamp his feet, and burst into laughter:

"Fun! Fun! Xiao Zhi, this is more exciting than a grand opera! Haha, with all this joss paper scattered, how many beggar's chickens could you buy?"

Seated in the sedan chair ahead was none other than Kumārajīva. He had a dignified and solemn appearance, with a faint radiance flowing around him, resembling a highly enlightened monk. He seemed oblivious to Xuancheng's mad ramblings, only his lips twitched almost imperceptibly.

Upon hearing the words "Great Wheel King," Qiao Tian inside the hall couldn't help but smile knowingly, a hint of amusement creeping onto his lips.

"It's Xiao Zhi..." he murmured to himself, his tone relaxed, as if the person who had come was not the mighty Great Wheel King who had shaken Tibet, but an old friend.

He was not annoyed by the scene; on the contrary, he was quite interested in it.

Qiao Tian immediately gave the order in a loud voice, which clearly reached the ears of all the disciples outside the hall:

"Wudang disciples, heed my command!"

"Follow me—to welcome the arrival of the Great Wheel King!"

The slight upturn at the corner of his mouth became more pronounced. With a swift movement, he floated out of the Zhenwu Hall like a wisp of cloud, heading towards the noisy Tibetan procession.

A mountain breeze swept by, fluttering his dark Taoist robe, making him appear even more ethereal and unfathomable. A great show was about to unfold on Wudang Mountain.

Chapter 93 The Heavenly Beings Abandon Their Thrones, A Storm is Brewing

The morning light was faint, and the dew had not yet dried.

Duan Yu slowly awoke from a beautiful and hazy dream, the faint, lingering fragrance still seeming to linger at his nose. He reached out and touched the wall, finding only a cool, empty space beside him. The woman had vanished without a trace, leaving only a thin silk book neatly placed beside the stone, its cover bearing the four elegant yet sharp characters: "White Rainbow Palm Power."

He carefully picked up the manual, as if he could still feel the lingering warmth and fragrance on it, his heart filled with both sweetness and melancholy. "Fairy Sister..." he murmured to himself, carefully putting the manual away close to his body. He felt that this encounter was like a dream, so he got up, straightened his robes, and then, somewhat absent-minded, drifted down the mountain.

Not far along the official road, they saw a group of people resting. Duan Yu casually glanced around, but when he saw one of the girls, he was struck dumb, frozen in place.

The girl was dressed in a lotus-colored gauze shirt, with a slender figure and long hair draped over her back, gently tied back with a silver ribbon. Although it was only a profile view, her appearance and demeanor were clearly identical to the "fairy sister" he had been longing for! However, this "fairy sister" was currently gently holding the arm of a young man beside her, their expressions quite intimate.

Duan Yu felt a surge of heat rush to his head, his heart filled with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief, as if his most treasured possession had been defiled. He could no longer contain himself, and rushed forward, disregarding all decorum, directly to the girl, his voice trembling: "Fairy...Fairy Sister! You...you..."

The girl was startled and turned around in surprise, revealing a face that bore a striking resemblance to Li Qiushui, yet appeared even more youthful and innocent. The young man beside her—Murong Fu—frowned, took a half-step forward to shield her behind him, his face ashen, and coldly asked, "Who are you? Why have you disturbed my sister without cause?"

"My...my sister?" Duan Yu was stunned, staring blankly at the girl. After examining her closely, he realized that although she resembled the fairy sister, her eyes lacked some of the allure and world-weariness, and possessed more of an innocent and naive charm. She was definitely not the same person. He immediately blushed deeply and stammered, "I...I am Duan Yu. I was rash. It's just...just because this young lady looks so much like an old friend of mine that I mistook her for someone else. I hope you will forgive my rudeness."

The girl was Wang Yuyan. Seeing that Duan Yu's behavior was impulsive but his words were sincere and his eyes were clear, she thought he didn't seem like a bad person, so she said softly, "It's alright."

Bao Butong chuckled, waved his fan, and said, "Not at all! I think you're just trying to strike up a conversation because you see my Miss Wang is beautiful. I've seen plenty of these kinds of tricks!"

Feng Bo'e also said gruffly, "That's right! Leave quickly and don't spoil our fun!"

Duan Yu blushed with embarrassment at their words, but refused to leave. His gaze kept drifting towards Wang Yuyan, and the more he looked, the more he felt she resembled the "Fairy Sister." He resolved to find out more. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He cupped his hands to Murong Fu and said, "I was being presumptuous. I am Duan Yu of Dali, and I have offended you greatly. May I ask your honorable name, sir? Where are you all headed?"

"The Duan family of Dali?" Murong Fu's previously indifferent gaze flickered slightly. He harbored ambitions to restore the Great Yan dynasty, so he naturally knew of the Duan family of Dali. If he could befriend them, perhaps they could be of assistance in the future. His expression softened, and he returned the greeting, saying, "So it's Young Master Duan. My apologies for my rudeness. I am Murong Fu from Gusu."

"So it's Young Master Murong from 'Qiao Feng of the North, Murong of the South'! I've long admired your name!" Duan Yu chimed in, a sincere yet slightly roguish smile plastered on his face. "I've been traveling alone in the Central Plains, feeling lost about my future. It's truly fate that I've met Young Master Murong and all of you today. If you don't mind, would you allow me to travel with you all for a while? He can't care about anything else just to stay by Wang Yuyan's side."

Murong Fu hesitated for a moment, glanced at Duan Yu, then at Wang Yuyan. Having made up his mind, he said, "Since Young Master Duan is so hospitable, then let us travel together. Please."

Duan Yu was overjoyed and quickly thanked them, naturally following the group to the side, though his gaze kept involuntarily drifting towards Wang Yuyan. Bao Butong, Feng Bo'e, and the others felt that this man was shameless, but since their young master had already agreed, they had no choice but to let him go.

Meanwhile, at Shaolin Temple, in the Sutra Repository.

Bodhi leaves fell silently outside the window. An old monk swept the floor, broom in hand, slowly and steadily cleaning the dust. Xu Zhu stood to the side, carefully sorting and placing the scattered scriptures back on the bookshelf, his movements respectful and focused.

Suddenly, the sweeping monk stopped moving. He slowly straightened up, his cloudy yet profound gaze fixed on the distant horizon outside the window, as if piercing through layers of clouds to see the flow of fortune that ordinary people could not perceive. He raised his withered fingers and gently made some calculations in the air, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly. Then he closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time.

Seeing this, Xu Zhu put down the sutra in his hand, approached with concern, and asked with his palms together, "Master, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

After a long while, the sweeping monk slowly opened his eyes, his gaze filled with a rare sense of sorrow and heaviness. He stood with his hands behind his back by the window, gazing at the vast sky, and let out a long, heavy sigh:

"You wretched child, you wretched child..."

"The Eight Legions of Heavenly Dragons, the 'Heavenly Beings' have abdicated, and the balance of Heaven and Earth has been disrupted. The common people... are suffering!"

His voice, aged and ethereal, echoed in the silent Sutra Repository, like a prophecy foreshadowing the impending cataclysmic wave that would sweep in, a wave from which even the pure land of Buddhism could not escape. Xu Zhu listened, bewildered, yet he could feel the invisible, heavy pressure, and couldn't help but feel worried as well.

The rain is coming and the wind is all over the building.

Chapter 94 Xiao Zhi Challenges Qiao Tian

Outside the gates of Wudang Mountain, the ceremonial guards were impressive.

Qiao Tian led his core disciples, standing quietly and waiting, their demeanor calm and composed. His dark Taoist robe fluttered slightly in the mountain breeze, blending seamlessly with the sea of ​​clouds and pine trees of Wudang behind him, exuding the grand and majestic aura of a grandmaster.

The young Jinzha stood by his side, watching the increasingly imposing Tibetan procession approaching from below the mountain, and couldn't help but ask softly, "Master, are these Tibetan monks... very powerful? Is it worth us making such a fuss?"

Qiao Tian's gaze swept over the dignified monk surrounded by a crowd of people, especially his conspicuously large earlobes. A meaningful smile appeared on his lips as he replied, "Don't underestimate him. He is a 'lucky general' of Wudang. Remember, you must not be impolite."

Before he finished speaking, Kumārajīva stepped out from the magnificent procession. He held one palm to his chest, bowed slightly, and chanted a clear Buddhist prayer: "Amitabha. This humble monk, Kumārajīva, comes from Tibet. I have long heard of Wudang in the Central Plains, a newly emerging holy land of Taoism, and that Master Qiao is an unparalleled genius in the martial arts world. Today, I have seen him, and indeed, his grandeur is magnificent, living up to his reputation." His demeanor was dignified, displaying the bearing of a great Buddhist master.

Qiao Tian returned the greeting with a cupped hand and a warm smile: "Your Majesty is too kind. Your Majesty is the National Preceptor of Tibet, and your Buddhist teachings and martial arts have reached a state of perfection. Your presence is a great honor to our Wudang Sect. Qiao and my disciples are most pleased to welcome you."

"Sect Leader Qiao, you are too kind." Kumārajīva nodded slightly, getting to the point. His tone was calm yet subtly sharp. "This humble monk has spent his life pursuing the great path of martial arts. I have heard that the Wudang school of martial arts is unique, integrating the styles of various schools, which I greatly admire. Therefore, I have taken the liberty of coming here to discuss the Dao and test my skills with the masters of Wudang, to verify what I have learned, and to add another chapter to the history of martial arts. I wonder if Sect Leader Qiao would be willing to enlighten me?"

"Since Your Majesty is in such a good mood, how could Wudang dare to refuse?" Qiao Tian readily agreed. "I wonder how Your Majesty wishes to spar?"

Seeing Qiao Tian readily agree, Kumārajīva was secretly pleased, feeling that the other party had given him ample face. He then said, "In that case, why don't we start with literature and then move on to martial arts? Let's first determine who is superior through the scriptures, and then see who truly excels through martial arts. What do you say?" He gestured slightly, and his attendant brought out a sandalwood box. "This is a copy of the 'Seventy-Two Shaolin Arts' manual that I transcribed, as a prize. If I am fortunate enough to win, I only hope to borrow Wudang's martial arts classics for three days. If I am defeated, this box of manuals will be given to Wudang as a token of our good fortune."

The stakes were relatively reasonable, and it resembled an academic exchange.

Qiao Tian laughed loudly, his demeanor magnanimous: "Your Majesty is too kind. The purpose of this exchange of skills and discussions is to facilitate communication, so why should we wager anything? Regardless of victory or defeat, Your Majesty's presence makes you an honored guest of Wudang. As for martial arts, as long as they are not core texts, Your Majesty may observe and study them if you are interested. Today's matter is about the principles, not about profit."

This gesture surprised and pleased Kumārajīva. He clasped his hands in praise, saying, "I admire Master Qiao's magnanimity. Then, I will offer my humble opinion as the first question in this literary contest." He straightened his expression and asked in a loud voice that echoed throughout the surrounding area:

The Buddhist Diamond Sutra says: "If one seeks me through form or sound, that person walks a false path and cannot see the Tathagata." I ask you, if all forms and sounds are illusory, then isn't our worship of Buddha, reciting scriptures and chanting Buddha's name all in vain, or even leading us astray?

This question is profound, pointing directly to the core of the Buddhist distinction between "emptiness" and "existence".

Qiao Tian did not answer directly, but turned to a taciturn scholar in a blue robe beside him and said gently, "Shang'er, you have always diligently studied the Daoist canon and also have some knowledge of the classics of the three religions. Why don't you go and ask the master for some guidance?"

Huang Shang stepped forward from the crowd, bowed first, his demeanor composed, his eyes clear and wise, his voice calm and clear: "Your Majesty's question is to the point. In my humble opinion, the true meaning of the scriptures is not to deny the 'form' of worshipping Buddha and reciting scriptures, but to break the practitioner's attachment to 'form'."

He paused briefly, then explained in detail: "The 'appearance' of worshipping Buddha and the 'sound' of chanting scriptures are like boats and rafts for crossing a river. They are convenient methods to guide beginners to gather their minds and gradually enter the path, which is called 'using the false to cultivate the true.' However, if one is too attached to the solemnity of the golden body and the loud sound of bells and drums, and even develops discrimination and seeks blessings in vain, then one is attached to 'form' and has developed delusions of 'sound.' The mind is enslaved by material things, hence the saying 'walking the evil path.'"

Therefore, the true meaning of "not being able to see the Tathagata" is not that the Tathagata is not present, but that the mind of attachment, like dark clouds obscuring the sun, blocks the inherently pure Prajna wisdom eye that can see the Tathagata. If one can "abid nowhere and yet give rise to the mind," not clinging to the image of the Buddha when worshipping him, not being attached to the sound of the sutra when reciting it, responding to things as they come and not dwelling on the past, then all sounds and sights are nothing but Prajna; every gesture is a place of practice. Therefore, the Platform Sutra says: "The Buddha-dharma is in the world, and enlightenment is not separate from the world." Seeking Bodhi apart from the world is like searching for a rabbit's horn.

Huang Shang quoted extensively from classical texts, explaining in a clear and engaging manner that he not only elucidated the essential point of "breaking attachments" in the Diamond Sutra, but also seamlessly integrated the concept of "enlightenment in the world" from the Platform Sutra, perfectly unifying the seemingly contradictory concepts of "emptiness" and "existence," and "form" and "nature."

His discourse, like the clear sound of a flowing spring, cleansed the dust from one's heart.

Kumārajīva, initially reserved, gradually became absorbed, even unconsciously nodding slightly at the most insightful points. After Huang Shang finished speaking, he stood frozen, brows furrowed, lost in thought. These words, from a completely different perspective than his usual interpretations, were all the more profound and insightful, directly addressing his own heart. He instinctively wanted to refute, but found the other's logic rigorous and the meaning profound, leaving him speechless. His dignified face flushed and paled in turns, clearly deeply shaken. His previous arrogance and reserve melted away like ice meeting the sun before the profound meaning. He opened his mouth, but ultimately let out a long sigh, clasped his hands in prayer, and bowed: "Amitabha… This… layman's words deeply grasp the profound meaning of Prajna emptiness, thought-provoking. It was this humble monk… who was attached to appearances." His tone carried a hint of genuine admiration and shame.

In a battle of wits, a disciple of Wudang actually won over the heart of the Great Wheel King Kumārajīva with his understanding of Buddhist principles!

This outcome astonished everyone present. Jinzha, Yaoyao, and other Wudang disciples looked at Huang Shang with surprise and pride. Even Xuancheng, who had been watching the spectacle from the back sedan chair, stopped picking his toes, tilted his head, and a glint of indescribable light flashed in his cloudy eyes.

Kumārajīva took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his heart, and turned his gaze to Qiao Tian again, this time with greater solemnity and seriousness: "As expected, the disciples of Sect Leader Qiao are full of hidden talents, and this humble monk admires them. This literary contest is one in which this humble monk has lost. Next, I wonder if Sect Leader Qiao could personally demonstrate his skills so that this humble monk could experience the splendor of Wudang's unique martial arts?"

Qiao Tian still wore that enigmatic smile, as if everything was as expected. He stepped forward slowly, his dark Daoist robe fluttering without wind, his aura as deep and unfathomable as the sea.

"Since Your Majesty has invited me, I, Qiao, will gladly oblige."

As soon as the word "please" was uttered, the atmosphere in the square in front of the Zhenwu Hall instantly became extremely tense.

Chapter 95 Master Xuancheng

In the square in front of the Zhenwu Hall, sunlight shines on the bluestone slabs, casting two opposing figures on the ground.

Kumārajīva, though dignified, harbored a burning anger over his earlier defeat in the literary contest and was determined to redeem himself through martial arts. He clasped his hands together and said, "Sect Leader Qiao, the debate on principles is over. How about we test our skills? Please instruct me on my 'Flaming Saber'!"

Before he finished speaking, Kumārajīva slightly shifted his body, and the edge of his right palm suddenly turned crimson, like a branding iron, instantly filling the air with a scorching and restless aura. He brought his palm together like a blade and slashed fiercely from a distance! An incomparably condensed, scorching, invisible force of energy, like a blade formed from flames, tore through the air, carrying a hissing heat wave, and slashed straight at Qiao Tian's shoulder and neck! This strike was fierce and domineering, and he was serious.

Qiao Tian remained standing with his hands behind his back, his expression unchanged as he faced the fiery blade energy that was powerful enough to shatter stone tablets. Only when the scorching energy reached three feet in front of him did he calmly unfasten the emerald jade flute from his waist. With a slight flick of his wrist, the jade flute drew a smooth arc, precisely striking the weakest point of the fiery blade energy.

With a crisp, clear sound like jade striking jade, the raging fiery blade energy seemed to have collided with an invisible wall of energy, or been drawn into some kind of vortex. Its force was cleverly deflected and dissipated, and the scorching heat dispersed, causing Qiao Tian's robes to flutter, yet he himself did not move an inch. In his hand, the jade flute seemed not to be a musical instrument, but a Ruyi (a scepter symbolizing good fortune) containing the ultimate truths of heaven and earth.

Among the disciples watching, Huang Chang nodded slightly and whispered to Yao Yao beside him, "Master's use of the jade flute to fight the enemy was not an overestimation. The flute is hollow, which is consistent with the principle of 'emptiness'; its texture is warm and smooth, which is consistent with the principle of 'softness'. By breaking through the surface with a point and overcoming the hard with the soft, it has already neutralized seven-tenths of the fierce and violent aura of the Flaming Blade."

Yao Yao's beautiful eyes flickered, and she said softly, "What Senior Brother said is true. Master's seemingly casual action actually contained an extremely sophisticated method of deflecting force. The place where the jade flute fell was precisely the point where the monk's fiery sword energy flowed."

Jinzha's eyes lit up, and he clenched his fists excitedly, exclaiming, "Master's jade flute's trajectory is far more exquisite and smooth than my sword control!"

When Kumārajīva saw that his flaming blade had failed, his heart tightened, realizing he had encountered an unprecedentedly formidable opponent. He dared not hold back any longer, and with a flourish of his body, he loudly recited the Diamond Sutra: "All forms are illusory. If one sees all forms as non-forms, then one sees the Tathagata!"

As the chanting of the scriptures began, his palm technique suddenly changed. His palms flew up and down, the force of his palms coming and going, unpredictable and ever-changing. It seemed light and effortless, but in fact it contained the potential to overwhelm mountains and seas. It was one of the seventy-two Shaolin arts - Prajna Palm! The palm shadows were layered, real and illusory, enveloping Qiao Tian.