Poor Taoist Qiu Chuji

Chapter 83 Sword Scars and Foreign Monks
April 22 is the summer solstice. It is not suitable to entertain guests or go out. It is suitable to hold funerals and offer sacrifices to ghosts and gods.

There was a loud thunder in the sky and a heavy rain was about to pour down.

Obviously, this is not a good day to hold a heroes' meeting.

The Chongyang Palace was newly built and did not have a large enough space or lobby to accommodate large gatherings of thousands of people.

These martial arts heroes who seemed so glorious were about to be soaked like drowned rats.

The wandering people in the martial arts world, who had been well trained in advance, were running around and working as if they were half masters before the rainstorm came.

They brought in scaffolding, erected awnings, and dug a large number of drainage ditches to ensure that the main venue in front of the Chongyang Hall would not be flooded due to water accumulation.

Looking at these fully mobilized heroes of the martial arts world, the heads of the major sects who came from all directions did not look very happy.

The title of the best in the world was given to Qiu Chuji. For any sect that could be passed down for hundreds of years, who wouldn’t have wealthy ancestors?
However, the Quanzhen Sect has such mobilization capabilities that it can control so many unruly men of the underworld. This is a huge threat to any underworld force.

Rumble...!
The heavy rain still fell without any mercy.

It fell violently between the mountains and forests, covering the entire mountain range with a hazy and ethereal atmosphere.

Qiu Chuji was wearing a dark blue Taoist robe and a rare silver Taoist crown, but he did not hold a whisk. He walked step by step to the center of the rain-soaked venue. The crackling rain would automatically bypass him when it was still one foot away and be completely blocked outside. The Taoist boots on his feet would naturally step into the mud, and the mud and stains would only spread to the left and right, without ever getting on his soles.

This unprecedented internal strength has already stunned everyone.

Apart from those legends whose authenticity is unknown, the only person in the past who can be confirmed to have such internal strength is Shaolin's Bodhidharma.

In fact, Qiu Chuji's internal strength was only about sixty years, but the magical skills he practiced combined with this sixty years of internal strength seemed even more astonishing than a hundred years of internal strength.

"Qiu Chuji of the Quanzhen Sect, I would like to thank you all for coming to my Zhongnan Mountain Chongyang Palace today and participating in this hero conference."

As he spoke, Qiu Chuji nodded towards the rain curtain, and saw that under an awning, the tablets of the three animals and Marshal Yue had been placed. There were also some former soldiers of Yue Family Army standing on the left and right with solemn expressions. The heavy rain falling on them did not shake their bodies in the slightest.

"Today's meeting is held, one of the purposes is to offer the head of Qin Hui, the scoundrel, to Marshal Yue and comfort his heroic spirit."

After that, Hong Qi of the Beggars' Sect stepped out from the crowd and clasped his fists towards Qiu Chuji, saying, "According to Taoist Qiu's request, thousands of Beggars' Sect disciples worked day and night to find Marshal Yue's remains on the shore of the North Mountain outside Qiantang Gate. After discussing with Marshal Yue's son, we buried Marshal Yue's remains by the West Lake for the time being."

Marshal Yue had five sons. The eldest and second sons were killed, and the remaining three were protected by loyal and righteous people during his exile.

As soon as these words were spoken, many strong men near Marshal Yue's altar burst into tears.

They originally thought that Marshal Yue had long since disappeared, but they never thought that he could be found, which was a little consolation.

The three heads of Qin Hui were taken out one by one and placed under the table.

The thief's head had been pickled, but it was also shriveled and looked horrifying, but everyone was staring at it.

The old Taoist priest who was in charge of the sacrifice, after reciting the sacrificial text and burning the yellow paper, drove wooden nails with cinnabar talismans painted on them into the three heads to indicate that they would never be reborn.

Although the Quanzhen Sect did not originally do these things, it still handled special matters in a special way.

Anyway, it also fits some of the current stereotypes people have about Taoists.

After a solemn ceremony, the rainstorm seemed to gradually stop, as if the heaven and earth had finally left contentedly after washing away the world's filth.

Qiu Chuji still stood in the middle, looked around, and then said the second thing of today's meeting: "I have said that today, everyone will sit down to discuss martial arts. If anyone is amazing, no matter if it is a magical skill or a military manual passed down by Marshal Yue, you can take it away."

"Including the three heads that are currently placed there."

Qiu Chuji pointed to the three heads nailed under the altar not far away. Their value was useless to Qiu Chuji and the Quanzhen Sect, but if they were taken away by other martial arts forces, they could still be used to make some use of them.

They are regarded as a kind of alternative "treasure" fought over by underworld forces, and there are always stories about exterminating traitors centered on them, either fabricated or exaggerated.

If Qin Hui's soul was really nailed to his head, wouldn't this be a kind of punishment that continues after his death?

The crowd around was getting agitated.

Master Deguang of Southern Shaolin asked, "Some time ago, Taoist Master Qiu said that heroes should be judged by their 'thoughts'. I wonder what kind of judgment that is?"

Qiu Chuji used his finger as a sword and pointed it into the air: "Do you recognize what this move is?"

Someone immediately answered: "The immortal shows the way!"

"No! This is the clouds across the Qinling Mountains."

"That's not right. This is a question in front of the Buddha."

“This is the Yangtze River flowing eastward.”

Qiu Chuji said, "Look! If I don't use all my moves and my unique internal energy transmission method, the same move can have dozens or even hundreds of different names. What does this mean?"

"It shows that martial arts is a process of using one to ten thousand."

“They start from the same position, and then they become different through time, experience, and generations.”

Several Quanzhen Taoist priests brought a large stone, four meters high and two meters wide, half green and half yellow, and stood it in the center.

Qiu Chuji used his fingers to wield sword energy on the big rock and used his fingers as a pen to write a line of words.

'Dare to be the first in the world!'

“All martial arts start out simple, and then become complex and prosperous. Only after taking the first step can there be countless steps to follow.”

"Some similar moves can become unique skills, while others are just farm tricks in the martial arts world. What they lack is not only the foundation but also the ideas."

“But it is also a courage to be the first in the world.”

"Everyone! Is my sword-fingering skill acceptable?"

Immediately, a brave man shouted loudly: "Master, who in the world can say that your martial arts are not good?"

When Lin Chaoying won the Tomb of the Living Dead from Wang Chongyang, she relied on the effect of the fossil pill to soften the hardness of a layer on the surface of the stone so that she could carve a line of deep words with her fingers.

However, Qiu Chuji's move was by no means clever; it was all the result of hard work. He used his flesh and blood to overcome the hardness of the rock.

"I have hidden a set of sword techniques in this line of words, but it is just a concept and not yet complete."

"Next, everyone, just come forward and watch. If anyone has a better idea and can better conceive my sword technique, I will teach him this sword-fingering skill. There is no limit on the number of people, but the limit is three days." "After three days, I will personally observe and determine the candidates, and then continue with the next competition."

"Those of you who didn't make it through the first round can stay in the mountains to continue to observe and learn. I, the Quanzhen Sect, will provide you with food but not accommodation. You can also go down the mountain on your own."

After finishing speaking, Qiu Chuji turned around and retreated. He flew back into the Chongyang Hall like a shadow of light and never went out again.

There was another group of people in the hall, waiting for another discussion.

Wang Chongyang, Duan Zhixing, Hong Qi, Huang Yaoshi, Lin Chaoying, Zhou Botong, Lin Xiaolan, Jin Yanzi, as well as fishermen, woodcutters, farmers and scholars, the Quanzhen disciples, the Peach Blossom Island disciples, and elders of the Beggar Gang's Dirty Clothes Sect and above with seven bags of honor were all among them.

Whether it was a reward based on merit or a private discussion behind closed doors, the core protagonists of this small discussion were of course Qiu Chuji and several of the Five Great Masters, while the others were just listening and would not speak easily unless they had a good idea.

The topic quickly continued from where it left off in the last discussion.

Huang Yaoshi and Wang Chongyang also demonstrated their "Hundred-Step Flying Sword" respectively. Among them, Wang Chongyang's Hundred-Step Flying Sword focused on bearing. After the sword was released from his hand, it would draw a powerful sword move in the air that was difficult to dodge, showing the explosiveness of the Xiantian Gong very completely. Huang Yaoshi paid more attention to sophistication. He designed a more complicated flight route for the sword. If the environment was complicated, his sword would not only have strong lethality, but also have the effect of appearing and disappearing mysteriously.

Everyone was talking excitedly when they heard a loud noise outside.

Then there were cheers from many people.

As soon as they rushed out of the door, they saw a foreign monk standing on the large stone with inscriptions. The place where the five big characters "Dare to be the first in the world" were originally written had been covered by a charred knife mark.

"Where did this wild monk come from? How dare he do bad things here?" The martial artists who were enjoying their research had their chances ruined by this monk, and they all cursed loudly.

The foreign monk did not take these people seriously, but said in not very fluent Chinese: "I am Duomoxing from Daxueshan and Dalun Temple. I am here to challenge the number one martial arts master in your Central Plains."

"Let him come out and fight me."

Qiu Chuji looked at the foreign monk with a slightly sunken head and wearing a red Lama robe, and his eyes narrowed slightly.

It was definitely not a coincidence that this foreign monk came to provoke us at this time.

His eyes wandered around, and he didn't find Ouyang Feng nearby, so Qiu Chuji became more confident.

"You, a wild monk who came from nowhere, want to fight with my nephew?"

"Let me meet you!" Zhou Botong took the first step forward.

Although what he said sounded a little awkward, no one thought there was anything wrong with it.

Although Qiu Chuji is young, his status in the martial arts world is already different.

"Uncle-master! Pay attention to his palm knife. If I'm not mistaken, he should be using the secret flame knife of the Dalun Temple. In the beginning of this martial art, one needs to use internal force to ignite the Tibetan incense that contains gunpowder, and use internal force to drive the green smoke attack. After it is perfected, the palm will become the knife, and the knife will contain blazing fire. It is almost comparable to the Six Meridians Divine Sword of the Duan family of Dali." Qiu Chuji reminded Zhou Botong.

Zhou Botong flew out with the sword in his hand, and the scabbard shot out like a black dragon, forcing the foreign monk off the rock first.

boom!
A beam of fire burst out like a streak of silk, and the scabbard that Zhou Botong had thrown out was cut into two pieces, and the cut part was charred black.

Wang Chongyang's expression immediately turned serious, and he shouted to Zhou Botong, "Botong! Come back first."

When Zhou Botong was young, he followed Wang Chongyang on his travels around the country. Although he was called a junior brother, Wang Chongyang was like a brother and a father to him, and Wang Chongyang also valued this junior brother very much.

Otherwise, if someone else did such a shameful thing in the Dali Palace, Wang Chongyang would break with him even if he did not kill him.

Zhou Botong, however, had the mindset of a young man. When he met a strong opponent, he did not think of avoiding him, but of charging forward and killing him with his sword in hand.

"Master, don't worry. Uncle is a smart man with an open mind and sharp eyes. Nothing will happen to him."

Qiu Chuji's comfort made Wang Chongyang relax a little.

With them looking after him, no matter how powerful the foreign monk was, he would never be able to harm Zhou Botong's life.

In the blink of an eye, two figures, one blue and one red, were fighting each other.

Of course, Zhou Bo used the Quanzhen swordsmanship, but the foreign monk did not immediately use the flaming sword, but instead fought back with a set of Tantric hand seals.

The two men exchanged dozens of moves in the blink of an eye. Zhou Botong's advantage lay in his flexible swordsmanship, which often allowed him to come up with an ingenious sword move, forcing the foreign monk to return to defend. Although the foreign monk looked young, his skills were quite strong, and he must have practiced for at least thirty or forty years.

Although this monk has dark skin, there is no sign of old age between his eyebrows and eyes. Normally, even if he has been practicing in the womb, he should not have such skills.

"It is rumored that before the Tibetan Tantric masters pass on most of their skills to a secretly selected disciple through initiation, they will then publicize this person as their reincarnation. In this way, the disciple not only inherits their martial arts, but also their religious and political status," said Huang Yaoshi.

Duan Zhixing obviously understood more, and nodded, saying, "It is not easy to pass on power through initiation. Not only does it require both the one passing on power and the one being passed on power to have no second thoughts, but it also requires excellent physique and endurance. Otherwise, if one is not careful, both will perish."

There have always been rumors in the martial arts world that senior masters can pass on their skills and energy to a lucky guy, allowing him to increase his skills by several decades overnight and become a master of his generation. However, only a few of them have actually achieved this.

It stands to reason that in some major martial arts sects and families, those old seniors who are about to die can choose descendants with better qualifications among the younger generations to pass on their skills. In this way, passing down from generation to generation will not only ensure the continuity of the high-end power of the sect and family, but also the accumulated skills will be extremely profound.

But it is difficult to do in practice. In addition to the reasons mentioned above by Duan Zhixing, the skill to be transferred needs to be extremely pure, without any impurities, so that it can be transferred into another person's body and then preserved in a certain amount.

Moreover, these transmitted skills, in daily use, are often consumed and part of them can no longer be restored, which is equivalent to a temporary enhancement rather than a permanent one.

Of course, the Tibetan monks rely on initiation to pass on their skills, so they must have unique developments in this regard, which is more advanced than the normal way of passing on skills in the Central Plains martial arts world.

Of course, the martial arts of the Central Plains are also profound and extensive. The particularity of some magical skills is even better than initiation, but they are not universal.

For example, the Bei Ming Divine Art, which is able to absorb other people's internal energy for one's own use, and can be used on both vegetarian and meatless people, is even more extraordinary and is several levels higher than the transmission of power.

During the conversation, the fight between Zhou Botong and the foreign monk had become increasingly intense.

Although Zhou Botong had not yet figured out the technique of fighting with both hands, he had already shown a tendency in that direction. He danced with the sword in one hand and used palm techniques with the other, alternating between the two without losing order. The foreign monk was somewhat overwhelmed to cope with it.

With a roar, Fan Sheng clasped his hands together and clapped them forward.

A wave of scorching fire rushed towards Zhou Botong.

"careful!"

"Dingyang Needle!"

The two voices, one before and one after, were reminders from Wang Chongyang and Qiu Chuji.

(End of this chapter)