Chapter 52

(Late update, even later, please bear with me. I promise to be regular over the weekend. I seek your support with recommendation votes and new readers, please add to your collection.)

Jiuligang, Hu Family Residence.

The cold and evil aura dissipated, and the auspicious Buddhist light also faded, but the air was no longer the chill of a winter night. Instead, a warm breeze blew, cleansing the mind and making one forget all worldly distractions.

Shaolin Legacy! One hundred and eight supreme techniques!

This was somewhat awe-inspiring. Over five thousand four hundred years ago, when Buddhism was first established and Shaolin Temple was founded, there were only eighteen supreme techniques. A thousand years later, there were thirty-six, and another thousand years later, forty-nine. Now, after five thousand four hundred years, there are a full one hundred and eight techniques.

The Shaolin one hundred and eight supreme techniques are renowned throughout the world. Buddhism has spread far and wide, reaching many countries. Martial arts have reached a peak, and those listed among the Shaolin one hundred and eight supreme techniques are at least of the first-class level. Many of these top martial arts point directly to the path of the spirit, and some even touch upon the supreme realm of destiny.

"Is this the demon race?"

At this moment, several martial artists saw a middle-aged man with twisted muscles and wide, angry eyes, dressed in short clothing. If not for the cold and evil aura, he would look no different from an ordinary human. The only difference was that he was coughing up blood, the dark black blood emitting a gray-blue cold vapor.

"Little bald monk of Shaolin, with a bamboo staff and a wine gourd, your Great Vajra Palm is mighty. Good job, little monk Mingjue! I fled for three hundred miles, but you still caught up with me."

The middle-aged demon clenched his teeth and soon showed a fierce smile. He continued to cough up blood, severely injured, but he did not care. "The saints of our demon race will eventually return. You bald monks of Shaolin will be the first to be eliminated. All the Buddhists in this world should die!"

The little monk, slightly tipsy, was not bothered by this. Instead, his eyes brightened, and he muttered, "The old monk doesn't let the little monk drink wine. Does the Buddha not eat or bathe? Why not leave the monastic life and drink wine with the little monk?"

Su Qignian's eyes showed a hint of surprise. This little Shaolin monk was truly bold, even daring to jest about the Buddha. With such a disciple, his master must never have a peaceful day.

The old master of the Hu family was at a loss, and the other martial artists also had strange expressions, silently criticizing. Is this a Shaolin disciple?

Seemingly sensing the wrong atmosphere, the little monk cleared his throat twice, and his eyes became focused, taking on a solemn appearance. Even Su Qignian couldn't help but twitch his lips.

"A mere demon soldier, yet you speak so arrogantly. Repent in the Buddha's wine gourd."

The little monk scolded, taking down a bright yellow wine gourd with one hand. The gourd's mouth was aimed, and the demon man's expression immediately changed. Then, an irresistible, overwhelming force bound him.

Su Qignian showed a look of surprise. The scene before him was somewhat beyond his imagination. The demon man seemed to be suspended by an invisible force, struggling and contorting his face in a fierce manner.

Pfft!

His clothes were torn, and in a moment, the demon man's form began to change. His arms turned into long, fish-like fins, and his legs merged into a black, fish-like tail, covered in dark, shiny scales, as if cast from molten iron.

"A fish turned into a demon?"

Mao Jiu's eyes widened, and the other martial artists also stared. For such small figures, even seeing a demon beast was rare, let alone a true demon.

"Not a fish! It's a Kun fish from the demon race!"

The black-robed youth said solemnly, his eyes flashing. That makes sense, no wonder this demon has such cold true qi.

"The *Demon Classic* seems to mention this race," Su Qignian frowned, his mental energy running through the forty-nine volumes of the *Demon Classic* he had read, "The Kun fish are descendants of the demon emperor Kunpeng. Over five thousand years, many powerful demon kings have emerged from this race, making them one of the top demon races."

Thinking of this, Su Qignian was somewhat surprised. The Kun fish race has produced many strong individuals over the generations, with few members. Once they reach adulthood, they can naturally harmonize with the world, open their dantian, and cultivate internal true qi, even without internal cultivation techniques. However, this demon seemed somewhat unworthy of his name.

Glancing at the little monk again, Su Qignian had some suspicions. It was likely not that this Kun fish demon soldier was weak, but that he had already been injured, so he needed to use the so-called yin energy of the Hu family's child to heal and further break through his limits.

From this perspective, he had an advantage. Otherwise, if this demon were at full strength, even with the understanding of the true meaning of the Sun Yang Finger, he might not have succeeded in one strike.

The Kun fish, about fifteen feet long, with long whiskers like steel whips and a deep, toothy mouth, now looked rather pitiful, with dark black blood gushing from its mouth.

"Seize!"

The little monk shouted again, and the Kun fish became smaller and smaller, shrinking to the size of a palm in a moment, and then to the size of a peanut. It was about to be sucked into the wine gourd.

"Yin wind with wine, the soul wanders freely. Truly, the Kun fish is the most free! Little monk, why don't you let me have it?"

Without any warning, a voice sounded, and a dark purple sword light flashed, like a snake in the air. The peanut-sized Kun fish was pierced and vanished instantly.

"Taking food from the little monk's mouth, the Buddha will save your grandmother!"

Mingjue, the little monk, looked at the empty wine gourd and became furious. His flushed face instantly faded, and his eyes opened, like an eternal green lamp lit on Spirit Mountain. In the next moment, the little monk disappeared from everyone's sight.

Rumble!

It seemed as if thunder rolled, and sand and stones flew. The entire Hu family residence was as if caught in the center of a storm. Su Qignian stood firm, his mental energy extending outward, but quickly retreated to within three yards of his body. At this moment, there were two hot bloods in the air, like boiling furnaces, the heat almost melting metal. Even with his mental energy reaching the second level of the *Mihun Dafa*, more refined than before, he could not approach.

He could only rely on his eyesight!

Focusing his mental energy in his eyes, Su Qignian勉强 saw through the sand and wind. Not far away, on the roof, the little monk's white monk's robe fluttered in the moonlight, his appearance solemn, like an enlightened high monk, with a faint golden glow surrounding him.

At this moment, he raised his palm, the joints becoming crystalline. He held up his hand as if supporting the sky, as if the four directions of the world were in his grasp. His palm became a vortex, and the surrounding air rapidly collapsed into it, and then he pressed it forward with a palm.

The moonlight, the roof, and the little monk's palm seemed to envelop the entire world as they pressed down. The power of this move made Su Qignian's heart race. If the battle between the Golden Light Immortal and the Qingyang Sword was like a divine war, then this confrontation was the pinnacle of human combat. Although Su Qignian still felt small, he could see some of the reality, and this shock penetrated his soul even deeper.

At this moment, on the opposite roof, a scholar with a gentle and sickly appearance sat astride the ridge. He held a dark purple four-foot-long sword in one hand and a purple-black gourd in the other. He flicked his thumb, and the gourd's mouth opened. The Kun fish fell into it, and he shook it twice, his face full of joy. He shook his head and said, "The little monk should thank me. The rules and precepts are in my heart, and the sins of drinking and eating meat are better borne by me, the poor scholar."

Chant!

As he spoke, the long sword in the scholar's hand trembled, and the sword light flashed like a bolt of lightning in the night, illuminating the world in an instant.

A loud explosion accompanied a burst of intense light, and Su Qignian could no longer see anything, only feeling the collision of two terrifying true qi forces, the sharpness of the sword path, and the chanting of Buddhist scriptures, with the faint appearance of Vajra Buddha figures.

When the sand and wind settled, the two figures were nowhere to be seen. Only the distant thunder continued to roll, and further away, there was no trace left.

The entire Jiuligang was stirred, and the villagers cautiously opened their windows, some children vying to peek outside. Some saw nothing, while others caught a glimpse and were excited, gesturing as if they themselves were the figures leaping through the air.

Hu Family Residence.

Mao Jiu and the other martial artists quickly left, their faces full of shame. As they parted, they decided to keep today's experiences to themselves, not to speak of them to anyone.

The black-robed youth returned to his cold and proud demeanor but gave Su Qignian a deep look before leaving, hesitating to speak, and ultimately chose to depart alone. (Late update, even later, please bear with me. I promise to be regular over the weekend. I seek your support with recommendation votes and new readers, please add to your collection.)