Chapter 91

Strands of true qi gathered, rising upward to impact the blocked acupoints. Meng Qi, weakened and ill, forcefully maintained his composure, staying calm as he followed the method for unblocking acupoints, condensing his qi into a needle and fiercely stabbing it into the cluster of foreign internal energy that had taken over his acupoint.

Puff, an intangible sound echoed in Meng Qi’s heart. The already loosened and dissipated foreign internal energy crumbled under the stab, and the acupoint was unblocked!

Meng Qi, riding the momentum, his true qi surging, rapidly unblocked the remaining acupoints.

The circulation of true qi was no longer sluggish. Although his strength had not recovered to even a tenth, and he couldn’t even make the Golden Bell Cover function on its own, Meng Qi had at least regained the freedom to move and had a certain ability to act.

With a gentle effort, the ropes silently snapped. Meng Qi carefully removed the last obstacle and looked at An Guoxie.

He was still sitting cross-legged, eyes tightly closed, focusing on his breathing to heal his injuries, his mind undistracted. He had changed his clothes, but the wound below his neck was still visible, resembling a fierce centipede slowly wriggling and healing.

Meng Qi narrowed his eyes, contemplating whether to use the Wind God Leg to escape or to take this opportunity to end An Guoxie’s life once and for all!

He knew that although An Guoxie was severely injured, he had been recovering for half a day and had taken many healing pills. His injuries should now be stable, and he could exert about fifty to sixty percent of his strength, which was a world apart from Meng Qi’s condition after using the Self-Sacrifice Technique.

After assessing his current strength and the fact that his precept knife was broken, Meng Qi realized that even if he used all his strength and hit a vital point with the Arhat Fist, he probably couldn’t kill An Guoxie. At most, he could worsen his injuries and cause a relapse, as his protective aura would have naturally resumed after his injuries stabilized.

Therefore, he could either wait for his strength to recover to thirty to forty percent or flee now.

Meng Qi, though brave enough to risk his life, was not a reckless fool. After careful consideration, he decided to choose the latter, as it was unwise to stay in this place for too long.

If only the Plum Rain Needle were here, Meng Qi thought regretfully, looking at An Guoxie, whose posture made him almost unable to resist. Then he slowly got up, stepping with the divine transformation technique, moving silently backward. Once he had some distance, he would use the Wind God Leg to sprint without fear of alarming An Guoxie.

Suddenly, his vision blurred, and his body went numb. He was shocked to see An Guoxie appear beside him.

"I thought you would take the opportunity to sneak attack me. Last time, when you assassinated me, you were fearless and relentless, weren’t you?" An Guoxie said with a half-smile.

Meng Qi was speechless with surprise. "You knew all along?"

"To be honest, I didn’t care how I tortured you, but do you know why I only sealed your acupoints and didn’t use other methods?" An Guoxie’s smile was sinister under the cold moonlight. "Because I like to see people’s hope turn to despair in my hands. So, I wanted to give you hope, the hope of escape, and then destroy it with my own hands when you were full of hope. Your current expression is very satisfying, and it was worth pretending to heal for so long."

Psychopath! Meng Qi couldn’t help but curse inwardly, remembering that Gu Xiaosang had been called the same thing last time.

An Guoxie shook his head with a smile. "No, despair isn’t enough. Little monk, running away without permission must be punished."

As he spoke, he extended his right hand and pressed it on Meng Qi’s dantian, releasing his power!

The pain was excruciating. The muscles and skin of Meng Qi, which had been modified by the Golden Bell Cover and Iron Shirt, swelled up to resist the external force. But under the vast disparity in strength, they quickly deflated, and his dantian felt as if it had been scraped by a steel knife, shattering inch by inch.

"Alright, being crippled is your punishment," An Guoxie’s face was filled with a sick pleasure and satisfaction. "Little monk, don’t despair. Keep trying, ha ha!"

"If you tell me the name of that technique now, you won’t have to suffer this torment. I’ll leave you here to fend for yourself. How about it, are you tempted?"

Despite the intense pain in his dantian and the exhaustion of his body, Meng Qi was not as desperate as An Guoxie imagined. Having faced life and death before, he maintained a rare calm, knowing that even if he could hand over the Illusory Transformation Technique, An Guoxie would never let him go. So, he turned his head with disdain and did not respond to An Guoxie’s demands.

An Guoxie chuckled, said no more, and resealed Meng Qi’s acupoints before sitting down to meditate.

"With my dantian destroyed, his suspicion of me will reach its peak, and there will still be a chance to escape!" Meng Qi did not dwell too much on the loss of his martial arts. After An Guoxie truly began to heal, he fell asleep, striving to recover his spirit and strength. Even as an ordinary person without martial arts, there were still ways to escape.

In the following days, An Guoxie carried Meng Qi around the edge of the瀚Hai Desert. For a master with all nine acupoints open, the monsters and demons deep in the desert were quite dangerous. Under normal circumstances, he might have dared to venture in, but with his current severe injuries, it was safer to take a detour.

Meng Qi maintained a very cooperative attitude, patiently seeking and waiting for an opportunity.

One day, An Guoxie brought Meng Qi to an oasis in the瀚Hai Desert. This place had once been quite prosperous and lively, but as the sandstorms encroached, the oasis shrank, and the environment deteriorated. Most people had to leave their homes and seek other oases.

So, at first glance, the greenery here was always shrouded in a layer of gray, and most of the buildings hidden among the trees were old and dilapidated. Only the inn in the center and the nearby houses were relatively well-maintained and clean. On the other side of the shallower lake, there were abandoned temples and palaces.

Since many caravans passed through here, the inn’s business was still quite good, with nearly all the tables occupied. Some were merchants and desert travelers, and some were martial artists.

At one table, four young men and women who looked like martial artists sat, their spirits high and ambitions soaring, as if the entire martial world awaited their conquest, making them particularly noticeable.

When Meng Qi entered the inn, the first thing he saw was them, not because of their striking attire, but because one of the men had an ice crystal snowflake embedded on his hand, and a sword that was seven inches shorter than normal, narrow and strange.

All this indicated one thing: he was a disciple of the Snow Mountain Sect who had gained the qualification to travel!

Only the Snow Mountain Sect used such a type of long sword, and only they embedded an ice crystal snowflake on the hand of disciples who went down the mountain, as a symbol of their sect.

As one of the six sword sects, and a major martial arts sect that rivaled the Golden Buddha Temple in the Western Regions, the Snow Mountain Sect’s disciples who went down the mountain to travel had at least opened two acupoints.

This was an opportunity, Meng Qi silently told himself.

An Guoxie, with his distinctive appearance, drew many gazes as soon as he entered the inn, including that of the Snow Mountain Sect disciple. However, he soon frowned, as if recognizing An Guoxie, and then casually conversed with his companions.

Unlike Shaolin, the Snow Mountain Sect was in the Western Regions, and An Guoxie would not provoke them if he could avoid it. He dragged Meng Qi to a corner, ordered food, and rested.

Meng Qi carefully observed the Snow Mountain Sect disciple’s table and found that besides him, there were two men and a woman. The woman was petite and delicate, with a pretty face, not exceptionally beautiful but very approachable. One of the men wore black attire, was tall, and had ordinary features, smiling and talking to the Snow Mountain Sect disciple. The other man looked like a weak scholar, but his bulging temples indicated he was not weak, and Meng Qi suspected they had all opened their acupoints.

The Snow Mountain Sect disciple wore white, had an ordinary face, a high nose, and a slightly cold demeanor.

"The Snow Mountain Sect has no evil reputation. I wonder if they will lend a hand..." Meng Qi thought to himself, but he did not rashly seek help. Not every major sect’s disciple was like Jiang Zhimi and himself, capable of understanding true meaning and using powerful life-risking techniques. Even if the Snow Mountain Sect disciple had opened four acupoints, if the others were only at the initial stage, they might not be a match for the injured An Guoxie—Old Man Ku’s legacy was also extraordinary, not inferior to the ordinary direct descendants of major sects, and An Guoxie was a master with all nine acupoints open, with a much higher realm.

He quietly ate his food and, when An Guoxie was not paying attention, secretly bit his finger and wrote "save me" on the table leg.

After dinner, when An Guoxie turned to go upstairs, Meng Qi seized the opportunity, turned his head to look at the young martial artists, opened his mouth to form the words "save me" with his lips, and waved toward the table he had sat at.

He did this three times, then turned his head and followed An Guoxie upstairs.

He did not expect them to understand his lip movements but hoped to draw their attention to the "save me" written on the table leg, and, recognizing An Guoxie, invite enough help to rescue him.

After a few steps, An Guoxie suddenly stopped and said to Meng Qi with a smile, "Ah, I’m still used to staying in ruined temples."

After saying this, he pulled Meng Qi out of the inn, through the woods, around the lake, and into a dilapidated temple.

Seeing An Guoxie leave, the Snow Mountain Sect disciple and his companions indeed frowned and went to check the table Meng Qi had sat at.

"He was asking for help," the weak scholar said in a low voice, wiping away the blood writing. "Brother Fu, do we need help?"

The Snow Mountain Sect disciple, called Brother Fu, frowned. "That’s the ‘White-Headed Vulture.’ We are not strong enough, and the monk’s identity is unknown. It might be a fight between evil cults."

He was not willing to take the risk.

Hearing it was the White-Headed Vulture, the girl and the man in black shook their heads at the weak scholar. "Master Gu, don’t be reckless. Although upholding justice is our goal, we can’t do something that will surely lead to death. At the next oasis, we can contact some seniors for help."

"I understand. I won’t be reckless, but we need to clarify the monk’s identity before inviting seniors to act," Master Gu said after a moment of thought. "I’ll investigate tonight and try to get some information."

"Alright, be careful," the Snow Mountain Sect disciple said sternly.

...

In the ruined temple, Meng Qi had just sat down when An Guoxie walked over and chuckled, "Do you think they will come to save you?"

He discovered it again? Meng Qi was slightly surprised but quickly composed himself, remaining silent.

"Exactly that expression," An Guoxie said with pleasure, then squatted down, picked up Meng Qi’s right hand, and examined it closely. "This is the hand that wrote the blood message, right?"

"What are you going to do?" Meng Qi noticed the madness in his expression.

"What do I want to do? If you hand over the technique, I’ll do nothing and let you go. Otherwise, I’ll crush your right hand inch by inch," An Guoxie said with a look that suggested he hoped Meng Qi wouldn’t agree.

Meng Qi gritted his teeth and sneered, "Do as you please."

An Guoxie laughed and, with both hands, crushed Meng Qi’s right hand bone by bone.

The pain was excruciating, almost making Meng Qi faint. The subsequent torture was like experiencing the ten most cruel punishments.

"Next will be your left hand, then your left leg, right leg, and finally your lineage..." An Guoxie withdrew his hand with satisfaction, resealed Meng Qi’s acupoints, and went to meditate.

Meng Qi lay in front of the altar, his right hand numb, with only intermittent pain keeping him half-conscious.

There’s still a chance, he told himself.

In a daze, Meng Qi’s vision went dark, and he heard a surprised female voice:

"Little monk, how did you end up like this?"

"Request treatment, and I’ll deduct the good deeds from my account. I’ll exchange the pills I have for good deeds."

Meng Qi managed a faint smile. The opportunity had come!

...

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