Online Game: Me, with Unparalleled Comprehension

When we returned to the inn, the sun was high in the sky.

Wu Feng pushed open the door, and there was A Zi sitting cross-legged on a futon beside the bed, intently practicing the Lesser Formless Skill.

Hearing the door open, she slowly opened her eyes. Seeing Wu Feng, a gentle smile instantly bloomed in her eyes, and she quickly stood up and bowed, saying, "Young Master, you're back."

Wu Feng nodded slightly, indicating that she should continue practicing. He then walked to the futon in the corner of the room, sat down cross-legged, took a deep breath, and with a slight thought, the Nine Yang Divine Skill instantly began to circulate.

Warm, pure energy rose from the dantian, flowing slowly along the meridians, washing over them again and again, bringing waves of comfort.

At the edge of my field of vision, a pale gold proficiency indicator steadily ticked: [Nine Yang Divine Skill Proficiency +276].

Time flew by as I focused on my practice. The sun gradually set in the west, and the rosy glow outside the window slowly faded from a fiery golden-red to a gentle orange-pink, finally turning into a deep twilight that completely enveloped the streets and alleys.

Wu Feng slowly finished his practice, opened his eyes, and a golden light flashed in his eyes. He moved his wrists and could clearly feel that the true energy in his body was much stronger than before.

Ah Zi had already finished her practice. Seeing him get up, she quickly stepped forward and said in a gentle voice, "Young master, it's getting dark. Shall I go and ask the innkeeper to prepare dinner?"

Wu Feng nodded slightly: "Go ahead, a simple home-cooked meal will do."

Azi responded and quickly went downstairs to instruct the shopkeeper. Before long, the waiter brought up four dishes and a soup.

The two sat around the table. Azi served Wu Feng rice and vegetables, eating in small bites, glancing up at him from time to time with a gentle smile on her face.

After dinner, Wu Feng called out softly, and the waiter downstairs quickly came upstairs, cleared away the dishes and chopsticks on the table, carefully wiped the table clean, brought warm water, and then bowed and left.

After getting ready, Azi tugged at Wu Feng's sleeve, her voice soft and tinged with weariness: "Young Master, I'm sleepy."

Wu Feng glanced down at her and said, "If you're sleepy, go back to bed, lie down, and close your eyes to sleep."

Azi was taken aback by his tone, so she quickly let go of his hand, obediently climbed onto the bed, and curled up in the quilt.

Without the slightest hesitation, he immediately closed his eyes and even breathed softly, for fear of displeasing Wu Feng.

After a while, Wu Feng walked to the bedside and confirmed that A Zi was fast asleep.

Wu Feng turned and left, taking out a set of night clothes from his backpack and putting them on.

The swordsman's clothes quickly shed, revealing a night outfit. He tightened his belt, removed his straw hat, and put on a black hood, revealing only a pair of deep, sharp eyes.

After everything was ready, Wu Feng walked to the window, gently pushed open a crack with his fingertips, quickly scanned the street below, and after confirming that no one was paying attention, he lightly touched the windowsill with his toes, and like a light falling leaf, silently leaped out.

He landed on the roof of the inn, slightly bent his knees to cushion the impact, and then used his lightness skill to leap quickly across the roof.

Wandering through the dim lights and night, my toes barely touched the tiles, leaving only a faint trace, with only the whistling evening wind in my ears.

Before long, the outline of Tenryu-ji Temple came into view at the edge of the horizon.

The Tenryu-ji Temple was quiet and solemn in the night, with its vermilion gates tightly closed.

The plaque above the doorway gleamed faintly in the moonlight, while the stone lions on either side outlined a ferocious silhouette in the night, exuding a sense of majesty.

There were no lights in the temple, only the shadows of a few ancient cypress trees swaying in the evening breeze.

Even the patrolling monks were nowhere to be seen; the entire temple was eerily quiet, and the defenses were far more lax than one could have imagined.

Wu Feng landed on an old cypress tree on the outer wall of Tianlong Temple, his body pressed against the trunk, concealing his aura, narrowing his eyes, and staring intently at the direction of the Tianlong Temple's Sutra Repository.

He twirled his fingers lightly, thinking to himself, "I saw that Tianlong Temple's defenses were lax during the day, and now they've become like this at night too."

It seems that not many players have been tempting fate lately.

I wonder if Master Yideng is still in the Sutra Repository. It would be even better if he wasn't.

He hesitated for a moment, a resolute glint in his eyes. He was already here, even if there were risks.

Having made up his mind, Wu Feng moved swiftly, like a ghost, over the high wall and silently landed on the bluestone path inside the temple.

He lowered his body and used the Lingbo Weibu technique, his steps as light as a ghost, avoiding the stone tables and benches in the courtyard, and quickly traversing along the corner of the wall. Before long, he arrived at the foot of the Sutra Repository.

The wooden pavilion gleamed with a deep luster in the night, and a faint firelight shone inside. The flickering light and shadows pierced through the window paper, casting mottled patterns on the ground.

Wu Feng's brows twitched slightly, and he was secretly surprised: At this hour, there are still people in the Scripture Pavilion?

I wonder who the monk guarding this time is.

Slowing down, I quietly circled around to the side of the window, pressed my body against the wall, and activated the "Invisibility with the World" technique to its fullest extent. My aura instantly vanished without a trace, and I even breathed very lightly, almost blending into the surrounding night.

He turned slightly to the side, poked a hole in the window paper, and peered into the room through a small gap.

The room was simply furnished, with rows of bookshelves neatly arranged and filled with yellowed classic books. The air was filled with a faint scent of ink and sandalwood.

Beside a wooden table in front of the bookshelf sat an old monk in a gray robe, his back to the window. He was thin, with a shaved head bearing the name of Master Yideng.

Holding a classic book in his hands, his fingertips gently turned the pages, his movements slow and unhurried, his face carrying a serene expression, as if he were immersed in the world of the book, completely unaware of everything around him.

Wu Feng pursed his lips slightly, a hint of helplessness flashing in his eyes. He cursed inwardly: What bad luck! It's that old bald monk guarding the scripture pavilion again. With his strength, I have no chance to sneak into the pavilion, let alone find the scriptures. If I make a move rashly, I'll only be asking for trouble.

He quietly observed for a moment, confirming that Master Yideng had not noticed anything and had not hesitated at all.

He turned and swayed, quickly retreating along the corner of the wall. His movements were swift and decisive, leaving no trace.

Just as Wu Feng's figure disappeared at the end of the courtyard, Master Yideng, who had been looking down at his book, slowly raised his head and looked towards the window.

His eyes were deep and sharp, and the calm expression on his face gradually faded, replaced by a hint of solemnity.

He put down the book in his hand, gently twirled the prayer beads between his fingers, his eyebrows twitched slightly, and his gaze fell on the tiny crack in the window paper.

He muttered to himself in a low voice, "Such skill! To be able to conceal his presence right under my nose and spy on the Sutra Repository. This Sutra Repository is nothing but Buddhist scriptures, yet these martial artists are so obsessed with it, repeatedly coming to spy on it."

After saying that, he shook his head slightly, picked up the book again, but his expression became more vigilant, and his aura became more composed.

Wu Feng used his lightness skill to speed away, quickly leaving Tianlong Temple and returning to the inn.

Silently, he climbed through the window, changed out of his night clothes and back into his gray-clad customer service attire, then put the night clothes into his backpack.

He then picked up a futon from the chair, laid it on the ground, and sat cross-legged beside the bed.

He began to circulate the Nine Yang Divine Skill and started cultivating. Warm true energy rose from his dantian and flowed slowly along his meridians, washing over them again and again, bringing waves of comfort.

At the edge of my field of vision, a pale gold proficiency indicator steadily ticked: [Nine Yang Divine Skill Proficiency +276].