Chapter 343: Chapter 171: Mantis or Oriole? (2)

A dull thud rang out as the powerful Palm Force seemed to strike a ball of cotton.

The foolish old man had flickered in front of him, blocking the palm strike.

"Uncle Master Cangwu Zi!"

The Daoist roared, his voice filled with grief and rage.

The other Daoists who had followed also glared, their eyes wide with fury. Cangwu Zi was one of the most formidable masters of their Qingcheng Sect, yet now he was being called a fool by some filthy scoundrel who was no better than an ant.

Reduced to a tool for making money.

It didn’t matter whether you treated him well or not. Even if you were exceptionally kind, just for calling him a fool, ten thousand deaths would not be enough to atone for it.

The Daoist called out for a long time, but Cangwu Zi remained unresponsive, merely smiling his foolish smile.

The killing intent in the Daoist’s eyes intensified, and his hand rose again involuntarily.

"Fool, get me out of here! Quick!"

Song Ziwen was skilled at reading people, so he knew full well that the man’s fury was about to erupt. He urged him on hastily.

"How dare you."

The Daoist lunged, striking directly at Song Ziwen.

Cangwu Zi’s figure flickered as he pulled Song Ziwen aside to dodge the blow. In the next instant, his form blurred again, and he was already out of the room. He leaped onto the courtyard wall and then shot off into the distance, treading on air.

He moved so quickly that even the lead Daoist couldn’t react in time and could only watch them disappear.

"After them!"

The lead Daoist roared. The others leaped out of the house and gave chase through the air, pursuing Cangwu Zi and Song Ziwen.

While in mid-air, the lead Daoist furrowed his brow, twisted his body, and struck down at the courtyard below with his palm.

Instantly, a giant palm print over a dozen meters in diameter materialized out of thin air and slammed down upon the courtyard.

A deafening BOOM echoed out.

Amid a cloud of smoke and dust, the courtyard was reduced to powder.

A moment later, horrified neighbors began to run out of their homes, staring in terrified confusion at the giant palm print.

"What happened?"

"I don’t know!"

The crowd erupted into discussion. After a short while, the Patrol Office arrived. They conducted a brief investigation before dispersing the onlookers.

About ten minutes later, another group of travel-worn Daoists arrived.

"Uncle Master Chang Feng, judging by the Technique, it’s the Qingcheng Sect!"

"Mm."

The elder Daoist frowned slightly. "They must have found Cangwu Zi," he said. "Notify our disciples. We must keep a close watch on where this group is headed."

"Yes, Uncle Master!"

The Daoists investigated the scene for a moment, then greeted the Patrol officers who approached them.

"Thank you for coming, Daoists of the Taishan Sect."

"You’re too kind. It’s simply our duty."

The two groups exchanged simple pleasantries.

Just then, two figures abruptly appeared at the edge of the ruins. It was a man and a woman. The woman was stunningly beautiful, with an extraordinary air about her.

The man was of average looks and build, but his eyes were piercingly bright. To meet his gaze was like staring into an abyss, instilling a sense of dread.

The pair glanced over the scene and, without a word, leaped into the air, flying off in the direction the Qingcheng Daoists had taken.

They were so fast they vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.

"Uncle Master, those two are incredibly powerful! Could they also be looking for this Cangwu Zi?" one of the Daoists asked, pointing in the direction the pair had just departed.

"It looks like we’re in for quite a show."

The lead Daoist’s eyebrows rose slightly as he spoke in a low voice,

"However, on our Taishan turf, even a dragon must coil and a tiger must lie down. Let’s go. We’ll follow them."

With that, the Daoist executed his Body Lifting Skill, leaped onto a wall, and set off in the same direction in a series of bounds.

Seeing this, the other Daoists also leaped onto the wall and followed.

Watching the Taishan Sect Daoists leave, one of the men from the Patrol Office couldn’t help but worry. "I wonder if the Daoists from the Taishan Sect can handle these ’river-crossing dragons.’"

"Yeah, I saw the video. It was terrifying. They completely leveled a mountain. If that happened in the city, how many people would die?"

"Alright, stop worrying about this and that. Let’s get back to work!"

The captain put a stop to their idle chatter and dialed his superior’s number.

He reported the situation in full detail.

"Do what we can and leave the rest to fate."

The captain hung up the phone, muttering to himself with a frown.

Before the words even left his lips, a sudden gust of wind flashed past him, gone as quickly as it came.

"Did you guys see someone run past me?"

"No, Captain. You’re not just seeing things because you’re stressed, are you?"

"Get outta here!"

...

"Madman, are we safe now?"

After an unknown amount of time, Song Ziwen nervously scanned his surroundings. They were on a deserted hill, with nothing but weeds and rocks in sight.

Only in the far distance could he vaguely make out some green fields.

Clearly, they were far from the city now, having likely traveled hundreds of miles.

Seeing that the area was safe, Song Ziwen finally let out a sigh of relief. "I never would’ve guessed you were such a powerful figure. Sigh."

’If only you were sane, you could teach me some Peak Martial Arts.’

’Then again, probably not. If you were sane, why would you ever associate with a little punk like me?’

’You’d probably crush me as easily as an ant... Fatty’s dead. Fool, do you hear me? Fatty’s dead!’

As he spoke, Song Ziwen covered his face and began to sob, his whole body trembling.

Though he and Fatty had bickered and schemed against each other constantly, they had been friends for ten years.

And just like that, so effortlessly, someone had killed him.

He wasn’t crying for Fatty, but out of fear—fear that one day, he too would end up like Fatty, killed just as casually.

"Fool, can you understand me? I want to learn powerful Martial Arts. Can you teach me?"

Song Ziwen sobbed a few more times, wiped the tears and snot from his face, and looked at Cangwu Zi with a glimmer of hope.

"What is Martial Arts?"

Cangwu Zi repeated the two words "Martial Arts," a foolish grin on his face.

"Benefactor, your karmic fortune runs deep. It is not impossible that you will learn peerless Martial Arts in the future. Amitabha Buddha."

A mysterious voice suddenly echoed in Song Ziwen’s ear, as if someone were speaking right next to him.

He looked around, but there was no one nearby. Only on a distant hill was a Monk, striding in his direction.

The Monk was a good several kilometers away.

’Could it have been him?’

Song Ziwen was astonished. ’Is this some kind of biological cell phone?’

Before his thoughts could run any wilder, the Monk’s figure had already flashed to a stop right in front of him.

The Monk had a warm, gentle face, with a large head and big ears, making him look like one of those monks who indulge in wine and meat.

"Fellow Daoist Cangwu Zi, it has been a long time!"

The Monk pressed his palms together, saluting Cangwu Zi.

Cangwu Zi mimicked the gesture, pressing his own palms together, the same strange, foolish grin on his face.

"Fate is truly cruel. I never imagined you would end up like this, my friend," the Monk said with a sigh.

"Are you the foo— uh, Cangwu Zi’s friend?"

Song Ziwen warily tugged on Cangwu Zi’s Daoist Robe, looking skeptically at the Grand Monk.

"A friend, naturally."

The Monk smiled and walked forward, his burning gaze fixed on Song Ziwen.

Song Ziwen felt the Monk’s eyes were like a clear spring, so transparent he could see straight to the bottom, as if they pierced right through to his heart. But then, in an instant, they became like a vast, boundless ocean, deep and dark, impossible to fathom.

"You are my disciple. Obey me!"

"Yes, I am your disciple. I obey you."

"Take Cangwu Zi and come with me!"

"Yes, I will take Cangwu Zi and follow Master."

Without another word, Song Ziwen started walking forward.

Behind him, Cangwu Zi followed along, giggling foolishly.

"Demon Monk! How dare you try to deceive someone from my Qingcheng Sect!"

Just then, with a SWOOSH, a beam of sword light tore through the sky, shooting straight for the Grand Monk.

With a flick of the Prayer Beads in his hand, the Grand Monk shattered the sword light.

Then he sneered, "Amitabha Buddha. I am merely here to welcome an old friend. How can that be considered deceit?"

"Hmph. It is not your place to act as an old friend to a Qingcheng Elder."

As his voice faded, seven or eight Qingcheng Daoists leaped into the area, surrounding the Grand Monk, Song Ziwen, and Cangwu Zi.

"Amitabha Buddha. Ganging up like this... I’m not one to take unnecessary risks."

With that, the Grand Monk leaped into the air, abandoning Cangwu Zi and Song Ziwen without a second thought as he dodged to the side.

The Qingcheng Daoists hadn’t expected him to move so quickly, and for a moment, they chose not to give chase.

The priority right now was to bring Uncle Master Cangwu Zi back to the sect safely.

"Uncle Master, my apologies!"

The lead Daoist’s figure moved like lightning as he tapped several points on Cangwu Zi’s back in quick succession.

Cangwu Zi suddenly went limp as if falling into a deep sleep and collapsed to the ground.