Chapter 42: The Martial Monk

The Grand Hall of Guanyin was a river of blood.

Zheng Yanqing lay collapsed in a pool of blood, unconscious. His delicate face was smudged with dried blood, a sight heartbreaking to behold.

The person who had broken into the hall was a monk.

He stood well over eight chi tall, with a majestic and robust build. His dark complexion was adorned with a short beard, and his tiger-like eyes were framed by thick eyebrows.

Clad in a pristine white monk's robe, he radiated a solemn aura amidst his imposing physique.

When his eyes fell clearly upon Zheng Yanqing's face, a peculiar light suddenly flashed within them, and his emotions stirred with excitement. In both hands, he grasped a thick iron chain as wide as a child's arm. At each end of the chain hung a dark, cast-iron sphere.

Judging by the size, each iron ball weighed around forty catties.

Combined with the lengthy chain, the entire weapon likely tipped the scales at no less than a hundred catties.

His sudden appearance startled everyone present. Two-Headed Snake was the most alarmed; casting a hurried glance around, he realized that more than a single monk had suddenly materialized in the ancient temple. The archers stationed outside the mountain walls lay dead on the ground, completely lifeless.

Standing in the courtyard of the ancient temple were six or seven stalwart and fierce monks.

Some gripped heavy staves, while others wore swords at their waists. Judging by their poised gaits and the silent, effortless manner in which they had eliminated the archers, their martial arts were undeniably top-tier. Despite the bandits' numerical superiority, these monks regarded them with supreme indifference. Their expressions remained calm and merciful as they surveyed the carnage within the temple, shaking their heads with soft sighs.

"Master, where do you practice, and what brings you here?"

Feeling rather unsettled, Two-Headed Snake eyed the monk in the main hall and cautiously inquired.

The dark-faced monk ignored him, striding toward Zheng Yanqing. With every step he took, the clinking of chains echoed through the space. The iron spheres rolled across the uneven ground in his wake, producing a dull, suffocating sound.

Xie Hong and his nephew retreated slowly, clutching burning torches.

The Dang brothers had also stumbled back into the Guanyin Hall, battered and utterly disheveled.

The monk bent down and lifted Zheng Yanqing into his arms.

Reaching out a massive palm, he gently wiped the blood from Yanqing’s face, then suddenly raised his head to fix his gaze on Two-Headed Snake. "You intend to kill him?"

"Oh..."

"I disagree."

With those words, he laid Yanqing gently upon the incense table. "This is the sacred hall of the Bodhisattva; how can you be allowed to slaughter the innocent at will? The stench of blood clings to your entire body. Why not lay down your butcher's knife this instant, lest you fall into the Avici Hell to suffer in the days to come?"

The monk’s voice was even and calm, the rolling of the iron spheres harmonizing with his words in a strange rhythm.

He gripped the iron chains in both hands and gave his arms a slight shake. With a crisp rattle, the chains suddenly extended to a length of about three zhang, trailing heavily upon the floor.

Two-Headed Snake’s expression shifted. He narrowed his eyes, the corners of his eyelids twitching uncontrollably.

He recognized the flying dragon chain hammer wielded by the dark-faced monk. It was an exotic weapon, also known as the Two-Headed Snake. This was a true two-headed snake, infinitely more formidable than his own counterfeit moniker. Anyone capable of wielding such a weapon possessed extraordinary martial prowess. Mastering the two-headed snake required not only robust physical strength but also razor-sharp reflexes, acute eyesight, and extreme agility. While the weapon was notoriously difficult to learn, its destructive power once mastered was terrifying. A single swing could easily keep dozens of burly men at bay. Moreover, despite the weight of the iron balls, a skilled practitioner found them far less fatiguing than swords or spears.

Having already exchanged a brief blow with the dark-faced monk earlier, Two-Headed Snake harbored deep misgivings.

Yet matters had progressed too far to turn back. He had lost nearly a hundred men and was agonizingly close to completing his mission. How could he possibly let go of the fat prize dangling right before his lips?

He swept his gaze around the hall. Dozens of bandits remained.

On Zheng Yanqing’s side, aside from Xie Hong, no one appeared capable of further combat.

Xie Ke’s leg had been pierced by a spear, blood still gushing as he leaned against the incense table. The three Dang brothers were covered in injuries, looking barely strong enough to hold their weapons. Even Xie Hong, the only one still capable of a fight, was in poor condition. As for the rest, they were either dead or severely wounded, leaving not a single able fighter. Meanwhile, Two-Headed Snake still commanded over two hundred usable bandits.

Even if this monk was an expert warrior, he could not necessarily block them all.

As Two-Headed Snake reasoned through the situation, his courage surged back.

He sneered, "Master, as the saying goes, a gentleman does not block a path of wealth. My boys have fought bitterly for so long and suffered such heavy casualties; you expect us to back down with a single word? You underestimate us far too greatly... To be frank, this Zheng Yanqing—I am going to kill him. If you know what's good for you, step aside immediately. Otherwise, swords and spears have no eyes, so don't blame me if lives are lost."

It would have been better had he left it unsaid, but the moment the name "Zheng Yanqing" crossed his lips, the dark-faced monk shuddered involuntarily.

He spun around abruptly, his tiger eyes widening as he stared at the boy resting upon the incense table. His voice trembled, "This child... is named Yanqing?"

Xie Yingdeng gave a cough. "Indeed, he is the renowned Master Goose, Ban Yuanjun, Zheng Yanqing."

The monk closed his eyes and sighed. "That being the case, I have all the more reason to prevent you from killing him."

"You're courting death!"

Believing he had already lowered his stance enough, Two-Headed Snake was incensed that the dark-faced monk completely ignored him.

Furious anger surged from his heart, transforming into lethal intent. He opened his narrow eyes, his broad saber trembling in his grip. "I offered you respect and you threw it away. Bald donkey, you're looking to die!"

He lunged forward, stepping into a slash directed straight at the dark-faced monk.

Yet the monk did not even deign to look, merely shaking his arm. With a sharp rattle, the iron ball vaulted off the ground, transforming in an instant into a long, rigid hammer within his grasp. The limp chain suddenly straightened, shooting like a streak of lightning directly toward Two-Headed Snake's chest.

Simultaneously, the monk roared, "Junior brothers! Demonic entities run amok today; we must emulate the wrathful Vajra!"

Monks outside the doors shouted in response, "Since Senior Brother Tanzong has resolved to slay the demons, we shall naturally follow!"

In an instant, a flurry of clashing weapons and harrowing screams erupted from outside the main hall, echoing into the courtyard.

Xie Hong watched in stunned disbelief, thinking to himself, Where on earth did these monks come from, and why are they so terrifyingly violent?

Two-Headed Snake’s broad saber struck the iron ball with a crisp crash. A strange, piercing force surged back through the chain, jarring Two-Headed Snake so severely that he stumbled back several steps before regaining his footing.

"Internal energy! Everyone press the attack together, this fellow is an expert!"

After just a single exchange, he knew he was no match for the dark-faced monk. Dozens of bandits swarmed forward, brandishing blades and spears.

The dark-faced monk lowered his eyelids slightly. The second iron ball, which had been rolling along the floor, suddenly shot upward in a sweeping arc that generated a fierce gale, forcing the bandits back before they could close in. As Two-Headed Snake rebounded from the previous strike, the monk leaped into the air, the chain extending fully as the two iron spheres crossed paths in mid-air and snapped straight into a single deadly line.

The monk spun his body, using himself as the axis for the flying dragon chain hammer.

A continuous symphony of metallic clashes rang out as the iron balls wielded immense, crushing force, driving the wave of bandits into rapid retreat.

"Wretched villain, how dare you launch a sneak attack!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Xie Hong caught a flash of movement. He whipped his head around to see Two-Headed Snake lunging directly toward Zheng Yanqing.

He held a torch in one hand and a long spear in the other. Planting the spear, he hurled the torch straight at Two-Headed Snake. Two-Headed Snake deflected the burning brand with his saber, then raised the blade to cut down Zheng Yanqing.

Too fast for thought!

A dark iron ball materialized out of nowhere, hurtling toward Two-Headed Snake.

No one had seen how the iron ball appeared; it carried immense weight, cleaving through the air with a shrill whistle.

Terrified, Two-Headed Snake swung his saber backward to parry. The iron ball moved like a striking viper, retreating the instant it made contact. Before Two-Headed Snake could recover, the second iron ball was already upon him.

"I said before—this is the sacred hall of the Bodhisattva. Slaughtering the innocent is forbidden."

The dark-faced monk’s voice was icy, devoid of any human emotion.

After a decade of bitter practice, the flying dragon chain hammer moved in his hands as if endowed with life—ghostly, erratic, and divine in its execution. Caught entirely off guard, Two-Headed Snake took the full impact of the chain hammer square in the chest. With a heavy *thud*, the crushing iron sphere shattered his ribs instantly.

A bizarre, penetrating force surged directly into his body.

Two-Headed Snake was sent flying through the air, vomiting blood in a piercing shriek.

Though the statue of Guanyin was weathered and broken, the lotus throne beneath its feet bloomed in jagged stone. A mud-and-clay dragon armature protruded from the lotus, piercing straight through Two-Headed Snake’s torso.

His corpse hung listlessly from the lotus platform, blood trickling down the clay sculpture to stain the petals crimson in an instant.

Witnessing this gruesome sight, the remaining bandits let out a collective cry of horror.

With their leader dead and no one left to command, the bandits completely lost their will to fight.

The dark-faced monk whirled his chain hammer, shattering the skulls of two more bandits in quick succession. The rest fled the main hall in a blind panic, screaming as they ran, "The chief is dead! The chief is dead..."

In the courtyard, the bandits locked in combat with the other monks were equally struck with terror.

Whether by instinct or contagion, the first bandit dropped his weapon and bolted. One fled, then a second, then a third... Hundreds of outlaws scattered in every direction, not even sparing a glance for Two-Headed Snake’s hanging corpse.

The chain hammer struck the ground with two dull thuds.

The dark-faced monk stood before the Guanyin statue, bringing his palms together in a prayer salute and chanting sutras beneath his breath.

The other monks filed into the hall, chanting in unison behind him. After checking Xie Ke’s injuries, Xie Hong looked over at the unconscious Zheng Yanqing, a wave of panic gripping his heart.

"Master, is Young Master Zheng going to be alright?"

The dark-faced monk turned his head. "Zhicao, you and Huitang check the wounded. If any still draw breath, tend to them properly."

He walked over to Zheng Yanqing, checked his breathing, felt his pulse, and furrowed his thick brow into a deep knot.

"This young master’s injuries are troublesome.

His heart meridian has been damaged. If he is not treated immediately, his life may very well be in peril."

"What?!"

Dang Shijie cried out in alarm, rushing forward. "Master, I beg you, please save our young master."

The monk scratched his bald head. "This impoverished monk is rather skilled at taking lives, but saving them... Huitang, your medical skills are exceptional. Come take a look."

A young monk stepped forward, examined Zheng Yanqing’s condition, and wore an equally troubled expression.

"This young master’s injuries are severe... and since the damage has reached his heart meridian, I am afraid this monk is powerless as well."

"You mean to say..."

"Esteemed elder, do not panic. Though I am helpless, it does not mean others are. I do know of one person who might be able to treat this young gentleman: Master巢元方 (Chao Yuanfang). He once refined a pill known as the Ninety-Nine Elixir, which surely possesses miraculous properties. However, Master Chao currently serves in the Luoyang Imperial Medical Academy. The distance is vast; I fear he could not possibly arrive in time."

"Chao Yuanfang?"

Xie Hong hurriedly spoke up. "I know him. I can find a way to invite him here."

"As for the time..."

Huitang scratched his head, speaking in a low voice. "Making the round trip—I'm afraid it will be too late."

The dark-faced monk spoke abruptly, "Huitang, if we use the Great Restoration Pill from our temple, can we sustain his life?"

"With the Great Restoration Pill, it should be possible."

Huitang lowered his voice further. "Senior brother, you surely don't mean..."

Without a second word, the dark-faced monk drew a red sandalwood box from his robes and opened it. Inside rested a pill the size of a pigeon's egg, coated in a layer of paraffin wax. Hesitating for a moment, the monk crushed the wax layer and carefully placed the pill into Zheng Yanqing's mouth. Then, he lifted Zheng Yanqing into a sitting position and began striking the boy's acupuncture points with rhythmic precision to activate the medicine's potency.

Within moments, sweat poured from the dark-faced monk's brow. He laid Yanqing flat upon the incense table once more.

"Is he... truly named Yanqing?"

Xie Hong started slightly, then nodded gently. "Everyone in the realm knows him as Zheng Yanqing. As for whether he possesses any other name, please forgive my ignorance."

Huitang drew a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"This Great Restoration Pill is a secret preparation of Shaolin, capable of protecting the meridians and regulating qi and blood. It should suffice to hold his life together.

Oh, is this child a scion of the Xingyang Zheng clan?"

"Indeed!"

The dark-faced monk gently stroked Yanqing's cheek, murmuring, "He resembles him... truly resembles him..."

Suddenly snapping out of it, he bowed to Xie Hong with cupped hands. "This is all the impoverished monk can do... Whether this child's life is spared depends entirely on the mercy of the Buddha. We are passing through on a journey and must press onward; we cannot afford to linger overly long. Zhicao, have Junior Brothers Six and Seven yield three of our horses for these benefactors to use."

Overjoyed, Xie Hong bowed deeply. "Many thanks, Master. May I ask where you practice, so that we may visit and express our gratitude in the future?"

"Those who have left the dust hold compassion in their hearts; why speak of thanks or gratitude?

Since we crossed paths, extending a helping hand was only natural... Gentlemen, we must continue our journey, so we will take our leave."

With that, the dark-faced monk retrieved his flying dragon chain hammer and strode quickly out of the ancient temple accompanied by the six other monks. Originally, all seven possessed their own mounts. However, having yielded three horses, six of the monks shared three horses between them.

"Senior brother, do you know that child?"

"I do not."

"Then why did you..."

The dark-faced monk spoke softly, "I merely felt that the boy bears a striking resemblance to my younger sister in the secular world before I took vows. My sister also had a child. When he was born, my brother-in-law named him Yanqing, wishing for him to rise high through his deeds and shine auspiciously like colorful clouds and a phoenix."

"Ah, then isn't that the same as that child..."

"That is why I could not resist giving him the Great Restoration Pill.

Only, my nephew is not of the Zheng clan, and whether he lives or dies now remains unknown."

"Then could it possibly be..."

Knowing what Huitang was about to say, the dark-faced monk shook his head. "That Zheng boy appears to be twelve or thirteen years old. My nephew should be only ten this year. The ages do not match; they are unlikely to be the same person."

Huitang nodded. "What a pity, then. Otherwise, an uncle and nephew reunion for Senior Brother would have been a joyous occasion!"

"Indeed!"

The dark-faced monk sighed. "I ask not for my nephew to achieve the renown and success that child has; I would be entirely content simply knowing he lives well."

He raised his head to gaze into the starry sky.

Countless stars blinked above, dazzling and breathtaking.

Yet within his heart, an overwhelming emptiness and desolation echoed...

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Still three chapters today!
@!!