Flower Stealing Master Chapter 85

Zuo Lengchan felt a different kind of feeling in his heart. He only felt that Song Qingshu's palm technique became more and more fluent, and if this stalemate continued like this, the other party might really be able to integrate several different styles of palm techniques.

And there was a trace of thought in his heart to surpass Song Qingshu. He just admitted that he was inferior in terms of sword skills. And now, if he couldn't beat him, the prestige of Mount Song Sect and himself would hit rock bottom. Thinking of this, Zuo Lengchan became determined, he started fighting while expending a great amount of internal strength. Circulating the Freezing Inner Energy at his fingertips, he stabbed towards his opponent.

Song Qingshu's heart shuddered, knowing that this was Zuo Lengchan's unique skill, Freezing Inner Energy, but he wanted to try his Divine Brilliance Scripture true qi against it without evading, and he threw out a palm strike.

Palm and fingers clashed, and the two who were just as fast as lightning settled down immediately. In the eyes of the others on the top of the Jade Emperor Peak, Zuo Lengchan's face became paler and paler, and the stone slab on which his feet, a bit of frost could be seen. But Song Qingshu's expression was solemn, with a faint red color flashing on his face.

“Great Monk, will Young Master Song be okay?” Seeing Zuo Lengchan's ability to freeze all the slabs and produce ice, Duo Long was shocked and couldn't help but worry for Song Qingshu.

But Jiumozhi showed a calm smile, “The Chief can rest assured, when masters compete with internal energy, the victory or defeat is quite noticeable. This chief of the alliance hasn't yet reached the realm of control, which causes the true energy to leak from his body. On the other hand, the internal energy of Young Master Song is condensed and strong. So, in at most a stick of incense, Zuo Lengchan will lose.”

When Zuo Lengchan in the arena heard Jiumozhi's comment, he was shocked, thinking that in order to show off, he often deliberately let the icy energy leak out. This act attracted disciples and gained their admiration, but he knew that in the eyes of real masters, it was something lowly. Humiliated and angry, he forgot to control his breathing, and immediately felt his opponent's surging hot and ferocious inner strength.

Everyone present in Mount Tai saw Zuo Lengchan squirting blood, retreating ten feet, and clenching his jaws. He was obviously seriously injured. 

Song Qingshu calmed down the disruption in his body and smiled faintly, “We won the first match.” Then he turned and walked back.

Seeing that Song Qingshu had won one match, Jiumozhi felt that till now the contest had been according to what was intended. He gave a long laugh and stood out from the crowd. He stood in the arena and looked around the crowd, “A martial art master from the Qing Court, Tibetan Empire's Maha Cakra Vajra Kumozhi, greets the masters of the Central Plains, and I am here to ask for advice.”

The expressions of everyone on the top of the Jade Emperor Peak changed, and for a while, they couldn't think of anyone who could defeat him. The Golden Serpent King, who was recognized as the highest martial artist, could be his match. However, everyone unanimously decided to let him hide and be a hidden card. Having lost one game, the candidate for this second match had become a problem.

“Amitabha Buddha! This one has been long heard that the Maha Cakra Vajra is proficient in the Seventy Two Forms of Shaolin. This Old Monk is not talented, but today I should experience it.” Master Fang Zheng walked slowly into the arena after a Buddha's horn was heard.

“What a fine Vajra Zen Lion's Roar!” Jiumozhi's eyes lit up, and he felt that in terms of pure internal strength, the other party did not seem to be beneath him.

“It is rumored that Master Xuanbei of our temple was defeated in the hands of Your Excellency in Dali Heavenly Dragon Monastery. Dare I ask Maha Cakra Vajra, may I know if it is true?” Abbot Fang Zheng raised his head, and stared scorchingly at Jiumozhi.

Death of the opponent was a testament of his fame and skills, although it did not paint a good picture, that was actually one of the most triumphant battles of Jiumozhi's life. But considering the political influence, he kept it vague, “It is not uncommon for an opponent to have not learned properly and lose to this Poor Monk. As for how he later died, this Poor Monk does not know.”

Hearing that he obviously did not deny it, the people in the scene couldn't help but feel a chill. Abbot Fang Zheng's eyes condensed and slowly said, “Old Monk will use the Thousand Hands Buddha's Palm to test the so-called Seventy Two Forms of Shaolin.”

After speaking, he moved his palm lightly. This palm strike was an ordinary move, the middle of the palm suddenly swayed slightly, and immediately changed from one palm to two palms, two palms to four palms, four palms to eight palms, and eight palms to sixteen palms. Then it turned into thirty-two palms, and the palm strikes were unpredictable. With each palm strike, it had changed to several directions in the middle of the action. The palm strikes were extremely well executed.

Jiumozhi admired this in his heart. It was such a complicated palm technique, but palm strength did not scatter at all. He really had practiced the Thousand Hands Buddha's Palm to the summit. 

After focusing his mind, he raised his hand, and put his right index finger and middle finger lightly together and twisted it. It took the shape of a flower, and he lightly shot three strikes at the opponent.

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Many disciples at the top of the mountain saw his three strikes, which were really ordinary and completely unable to compare with the momentum of Abbot Fang Zheng's Thousand Hands Buddha's Palm, and they cheered.

However, the masters of the various factions and other masters realized that Jiumozhi's use was indeed the authentic Shaolin Temple's finger technique. In the blink of an eye, the palm prints in the sky in front of Abbot Fang Zheng collapsed after a little while, and the sound of cheers came to an abrupt end.

“The Great Monk is really good at martial arts! Hahaha!” Duo Long on the side was so relieved that he couldn't help but shout and cheered for him.

Song Qingshu smiled as he looked at him, thinking that Duo Long was indeed a straightforward and enthusiastic man.

Abbot Fang Zheng saw that his palm shadow was shattered, his expression condensed, and his palms moved outwards to complement the shattered palm shadow, but the momentum of advancement inevitably slowed down.

Jiumozhi took the opportunity to attack, smashed his opponents palm strikes with his fingers, showing off his skill mastery. Pattra Finger, Great Wisdom Samadhi Finger, Animitta Kalpa Finger, Maha Finger…a variety of Shaolin skills were emerging in an endless stream, and everyone in the scene was dazzled. Everyone had the same thought, 'So mysterious, I thought that this monk was known to be proficient in Seventy Two Forms of Shaolin, and his reputation was indeed well-deserved.'

Master Fang Zheng studied the Yi Jin Jing carefully, and his internal strength had entered the state of transformation. Seeing his exquisite palm skills, everyone cheered secretly when he kept turning the danger into a blessing several times.

After fighting for a while, Jiumozhi had figured out his opponent's condition, and knew that within ten strokes, the winner would  be determined. Thinking of his own stunts just now was dazzling enough, he was about to make a rush to end the battle, suddenly his expression changed drastically, he quickly jumped out of the ring, and said to his opponent with severe expression, “Old Master's Yi Jin Jing is really exquisite, and this Poor Monk admires this. It's a tie this time.”

Everyone in the scene did not expect this change. Just now Abbot Fang Zheng was obviously  in the situation where he defended more and attacked less. It was clear that he wouldn't be able to hold on for long. Unexpectedly, Jiumozhi suddenly just gave up.

Abbot Fang Zheng was also bewildered. He was just about to ask, but Jiumozhi had turned and walked off the stage without saying a word. Thinking that this battle would determine the survival of the Mount Tai Sect, Fang Zheng sighed inwardly and acquiesced to this situation.

Everyone in Mount Tai Sect applauded. The two strongest opponents had already competed, and this third match is likely to be won by their own side. It was also stated in the previous contest conditions that if there is a draw, the Mount Tai Sect would be considered to have won.

Seeing the festive gesture on the other side, Duo Long asked Jiumozhi with a very puzzled expression, “Great Monk, why did you just now…”

Jiumozhi had a gloomy face, he said nothing, and ignored him.

Song Qingshu thoughtfully said in a soft voice, “The Dharma seeks to survive the world, and martial arts lies in killing. The two run counter to each other. Seventy Two Forms of Shaolin, each of which can hurt and kill people, is fierce and cruel. Harmony means that every move must be resolved by the corresponding compassionate Dharma. If not, the hostility will penetrate into the viscera, becoming deeper and deeper. It would be a hundred times more powerful than any external poison…”

It turns out that this situation was very similar to that of Ren Woxing and Zuo Lengchan. When he thought about the end of Jiumozhi's madness in the original work, Song Qingshu could guess something.

Hearing his words, Jiumozhi's eyes flashed with a fierce look first, and then turned into a daze. After all, he was a person of great accomplishments in Buddhism, and gradually he realized something.

“It's time for the third match.” Yuan Chengzhi walked out of the crowd slowly, looking at the three with a smile.

Seeing the iconic Golden Serpent Sword on the opponent's back, Duo Long's face turned pale.

Chapter end