Chapter 85: Everyone Like a Dragon? No, Everyone Like a Eunuch

All of this was part of Yang Xin’s subtle machinations, including the scheme of transferring the secret manual from Yu Canghai’s hands into Lin Zhennan’s possession…

When Yu Canghai and his party completely vanished from Lin Zhennan’s sight, Lin Zhennan’s legs gave way, and he nearly tumbled from midair, saved only by the ample sand cluster beneath him.

“How was that, Chief Escort Lin? Exciting enough for you?” With a wave of his hand, Yang Xin revealed himself and his companions before Lin Zhennan’s eyes; they had always been present, merely concealed within Yang Xin’s mirror dimension.

“Immortal Master, it was utterly exhilarating! My heart nearly leapt out of my chest…” Lin Zhennan, having descended from the air, clutched at his chest and collapsed in a heap, drained and limp.

Lin Pingzhi and Yue Lingshan, however, had eyes sparkling with delight, eager to experience the thrill of flight. But as soon as Yang Xin appeared, he dispelled the sand cluster.

Yue Buqun, too, had abandoned all hope. The feats of yesterday aside, simply enabling Lin Zhennan to soar through the air was no different from the legendary immortals who stride upon clouds.

More astonishing still was how everyone had been drawn unknowingly into the mirror dimension. Yue Lingshan and Lin Pingzhi found it amusing, but Yue Buqun had nearly died of fright. If these methods were deployed against an enemy, the adversary would perish without even knowing how. What’s more, Yang Xin gave no hint before acting—his methods were impossible to guard against.

Yue Buqun now fully accepted Yang Xin’s identity as an immortal. As for where Yang Xin hailed from or what his intentions were, Yue Buqun dared not ask, nor did he wish to; he simply must not. All that remained was to hurry back to Mount Hua and begin cultivating the newly bestowed divine arts.

“Chief Escort Lin, another task for you: make several thousand more copies of the Qingcheng Sect’s internal energy manual and the Pine Wind Sword Technique. It’s time to send another wave of blessings to the martial world.”

“Yes! I shall obey the Immortal Master’s command!” Lin Zhennan replied promptly. As to why Yang Xin did this, Lin Zhennan dared not ask, nor wished to, nor could he.

“Let’s go! Back to the Fortune Escort Agency.” At each place, Yang Xin effortlessly set up temporal nodes. With a gentle sweep of his hands, a golden portal flickering with firelight appeared, opening directly onto the main hall of the Fortune Escort Agency.

Yang Xin stepped through first. Lin Pingzhi and Yue Lingshan, with childish glee, hastened after him. Yue Buqun and Lin Zhennan exchanged a long sigh and followed.

“Immortal arts!” Yue Buqun knew he could never escape Yang Xin now. Such powers, mysterious beyond compare, were only those he was permitted to witness—what of those he could not?

“If the King of Hell decrees your death at midnight, you won’t live till dawn!” Even if beaten to death, Yue Buqun would never believe Yang Xin lacked such abilities. His arsenal was clearly beyond mortal reach. What could he do but bow and obey? The good news was that Yang Xin seemed to have taken a liking to him, perhaps intending to nurture him. Otherwise, why bestow these four divine arts upon him alone and not others?

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Having settled his mindset, Yue Buqun placed himself firmly in the proper position. Yu Canghai and his party, meanwhile, had been scared out of their wits, rushing day and night back to Sichuan. If they returned late, someone might ruthlessly strike them down to seize the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual. Even if Yu Canghai mastered it, he might not prevail, and the position of sect leader could well shift.

Yu Canghai’s predicament was one faced by all the sects in the martial world. Leadership is determined largely by strength—whoever’s martial arts are superior becomes chief. The law of the jungle is the unwritten rule of the martial world. Yet Yang Xin’s actions shattered this rule, granting everyone the chance to become a dragon… or rather, a eunuch.

Shaoshi Mountain, Shaolin Temple.

Fang Zheng, Fang Sheng, and all the influential figures of Shaolin sat together, each with a copy—or several—of the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual.

“These are troubled times…” Fang Zheng sighed deeply.

“Abbot, this is more than just troubled times—it’s a catastrophe for the martial world! What does Lin Zhennan of the Fortune Escort Agency intend? And Yu Canghai—what sort of mess has he made?” Fang Sheng frowned repeatedly.

“Amitabha.” The matter had become widely known; everyone owned a copy of the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual. What else could Fang Zheng do but recite the Buddha’s name?

“Then, Abbot, what should we do?” Fang Sheng asked.

“Send word to the martial world: collect and destroy all copies of the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual. Such demonic arts must not be spread. Strictly forbid disciples and followers from practicing it,” Fang Zheng declared.

“Abbot, we can only restrain our own disciples. As for the martial world at large… alas!” Fang Sheng sighed.

“Do our best and leave the rest to fate…” Fang Zheng’s face was filled with bitterness.

What happened at Shaolin was mirrored at Wudang. Master Chongxu took the same actions as Shaolin, but could only do his best and leave the rest to fate.

Shaolin and Wudang were somewhat better off, for they were not purely martial sects; their beliefs in Buddhism or Daoism enabled them to restrain their disciples to some extent. But in the martial world…

Songshan Sect.

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Led by Zuo Lengchan, the Thirteen Protectors gathered together. Their problem was not merely restraining disciples or whether to practice the arts, but who should practice them.

If you abstain, someone else will practice. One or two are manageable, but what if many do? What if they storm the Songshan Sect? What if disciples defy orders and practice in secret? The leadership must maintain martial superiority to keep the sect stable.

“There’s also a letter from Lao Denuo,” Zuo Lengchan announced, waving the letter and handing it to Ding Mian, who passed it around for all to read.

Lao Denuo’s letter was straightforward: he had decided to join Mount Hua Sect, and included a secret manual, ‘Celestial Frost Fist’, as a token of gratitude for being taught martial arts. Their debts were settled, and if they met again in the martial world, they would be strangers.

Nobody bothered to curse Lao Denuo, for originally, his infiltration of Mount Hua was intended to send him to his death. A single disciple’s betrayal was insignificant compared to the pressing issue of who would practice the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual. Thus, the matter of Lao Denuo was ignored, and all eyes were fixed on Zuo Lengchan, awaiting his decision.

To claim a lack of interest in practicing the Evil-Resisting Sword Manual would be a lie. Yet the requirement of self-castration made it… well, painful.

Besides, if one truly mastered the manual, future pain would be irrelevant.

“Master, what martial arts manual did Lao Denuo send? Surely it’s not Mount Hua’s Violet Mist Divine Art?” Fei Bin, the Great Songyang Hand, joked, attempting to break the awkward atmosphere.

The Thirteen Protectors echoed his laughter, but the mirth faded as Zuo Lengchan’s expression remained stern.

“Celestial Frost Fist! The traitor Lao Denuo sent the Celestial Frost Fist. This manual is a divine art capable of reaching innate mastery, several times stronger than my own Cold Ice True Qi,” Zuo Lengchan said coldly.

“How did that traitor acquire such a divine art?” Fei Bin asked.