Unbound Tiger Cub—or rather, Xue Qiming—had been staying at the Lesser Arhat Temple.
It had been over half a month since Xue Yinlong dragged him up the mountain, yet no one in Hongfeng Town seemed to notice the disappearance of one little beggar. Since he was an orphaned beggar, there was naturally no one to care about his fate.
The only people who’d interacted with him were fellow street urchins. But that day, they’d been so terrified by Xue Yinlong that they simply assumed Xue Qiming had been beaten to death and buried in some desolate field. Not one of them even thought to look for him.
Another month passed in a blink.
By now, Xue Qiming had had enough.
He’d stuck around only because Xue Yinlong promised to teach him martial arts. But in all this time, the old monk had done nothing but meditate, chant sutras, sip tea, and doze off in the courtyard. The only thing he ever did for Xue Qiming was prepare strange herbal baths each evening. He hadn’t taught him a single move.
Fuming, Xue Qiming packed a few clothes and stormed toward the temple gate.
Lounging on a wicker chair with his eyes closed, Xue Yinlong lazily asked, "Where are you going?"
Xue Qiming didn’t even turn around. "I’m leaving this mountain!"
"And what for?" The old monk smacked his lips.
That question only stoked Xue Qiming’s anger further. Furious, he hurled his bundle to the ground and jabbed a finger at the monk. "You dare ask?! Bald old donkey, you tricked me! You promised to teach me martial arts, but I haven’t learned a damn thing! I bet you don’t even know any!"
The old monk calmly picked up his teacup, tilting his head slightly to blow away the foam floating on the surface.
"It’s not time yet. I’ll teach you when the time is right for you to learn. No rush."
Xue Qiming let out a cold laugh.
"Like hell I believe you!" With that, he turned and strode toward the temple gate without looking back.
The old monk made no move to stop him. Xue Qiming reached the entrance, determined, and pushed against the gate.
With a thunderous crash, the already dilapidated temple gate directly shattered into pieces from the outside!
Caught directly in the impact, Xue Qiming was thrown backward by the force. Before he could even cry out in surprise, he felt a hand seize the fabric at his waist, steadying him against the shock.
Regaining his balance, he turned his head and saw that the old monk had somehow appeared behind him, holding him steady with one hand while gripping a broken door plank with the other.
Before he could process what had just happened, a rough voice rang out from outside the temple, "Where is the Sky-supporting Arhat, Xue Yinlong?!"
The old monk intoned a Buddhist chant before calmly asking, "May I ask which heroes have graced us with their presence? Why not come inside and talk?"
Messy laughter erupted from outside. There clearly were a fair number of intruders.
"We've long heard of Xue Yinlong’s name. Who knows if you’ve set up deadly traps inside your temple? We value our lives too much to walk into danger. Best you come out and face us!"
The old monk lowered his gaze, rolling his prayer beads as he stepped forward. The lazy, drowsy demeanor from earlier had vanished—he now carried the air of a true master.
Although Xue Qiming had been badly startled at first, he was unharmed. He quickly followed out of curiosity.
Outside the temple stood six burly men, each wielding swords or other deadly weapons. Their fierce presence made it obvious they weren't fooling around.
The old monk studied them for a moment before speaking first. "May I ask, gentlemen... what brings you to disturb my humble Lesser Arhat Temple today?"
"Hah!" The clear leader among the six stepped forward, his sword-like brows arching sharply. "I am Cloud-soaring Jiao[1], Zhang Dongyun! Are you Xue Yinlong? If not, hurry and call him out! This is a vendetta between our brothers and Xue Yinlong. Once the blades are drawn, you’d best stay far away!"
"Amitabha—" The old monk chanted a solemn Buddhist verse before shaking his head. "There is no Xue Yinlong here, only me, humble monk Zhishan. Please, kind benefactors, return from whence you came."
Hearing the monk’s calm and seemingly truthful words, Zhang Dongyun hesitated as he glanced at his companions.
One of them urgently called out, "Second Brother, don’t listen to this monk’s nonsense! We paid a hefty price for this intel from Storm Listening Pavilion—it can’t be wrong!"
The old monk added serenely, "You may be mistaken, benefactor. Even the Buddha himself may err at times. How could mere mortals like us not make mistakes?"
Zhang Dongyun and his men were momentarily at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond.
Out of nowhere, a voice suddenly called out from within the temple grounds, "This bald donkey is lying to you! He is Xue Yinlong!"
Xue Qiming was the one who spoke after watching the spectacle unfold with great amusement.
Zhang Dongyun and his men froze for a moment before their faces flushed with anger and embarrassment. "You shameless bald donkey! You nearly fooled us!"
Xue Yinlong cast a sidelong glance at Xue Qiming, but the latter grinned fearlessly and whispered, "Now I really want to see if you’ve got any skills."
The old monk turned back to Zhang Dongyun and his men.
"A monk does not speak falsehoods. I entered monastic life over a decade ago. There is no more Xue Yinlong in this world—only Zhishan."
Zhang Dongyun let out a furious laugh. "You’ve got a slick tongue, old bald donkey. Let’s see if your skills match your words!" With that, he shifted his stance and leaped toward Xue Yinlong, striking a sweeping palm straight toward the monk’s temple.
The old monk flicked his wrist gently, yet Zhang Dongyun felt an overwhelming force crash into him, sending him staggering backward several steps.
"Such powerful strength!" Zhang Dongyun exclaimed. "You truly are the Sky-supporting Arhat, Xue Yinlong!"
The old monk’s expression remained placid. "I am but a humble monk who bears no grudge against you all. Why do you seek trouble with me?"
"No grudge?!" Zhang Dongyun and his men roared in fury. "Xue, do you still remember Seven Dragons Stronghold from fifteen years ago?!"
"Seven Dragons Stronghold..." The old monk pondered briefly, then shook his head. "I’m old... I don’t recall."
"Pah!" Zhang Dongyun and his men were incensed. "You think you can just forget?! Back then, our Sea-overturning Seven Dragons ruled the jianghu! But you! On my elder brother’s wedding day, you accused him of preying on women and struck him dead with your bare hands!"
"Sea-overturning Seven Dragons..." The old monk’s brows furrowed slightly as he seemed to recall something. "River-riding Dragon, Deng Mingshan?"
"So you do remember?!" Zhang Dongyun raised his voice. "What do you have to say for yourself now?!"
"Hmm..." The old monk lowered his gaze again. "Hmm... over these years, I have been reciting sutras before the Buddha. I have delivered your elder brother to the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. He and I have long let go of our grudges."
"What in the goddamn..." Xue Qiming stood to the side, utterly dumbfounded. "This bald donkey is shameless!"
1. 蛟 (Jiao) – "Jiao" or "Flood Dragon," a mythical Chinese dragon-like creature often depicted as a serpent with the ability to control water. ☜