Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

Shen Gongbao was still the same Shen Gongbao, his shamelessness undiminished. He lightly tapped his own buttocks with his fingertip, lowering his voice even further: "I heard he suffered from hemorrhoids in his youth. Back then, his magic was still weak, and his treatment was improper, so the wound didn't heal properly, leaving him with lingering pain to this day—he can't even sit comfortably on rainy days."

"When we spar later, there's no need for a direct confrontation. Just wait for the right moment, feint a finger three inches below his tailbone, then use the momentum to ram him... Hehe, I guarantee he'll be grimacing and exhausted on the spot. Winning against him? A piece of cake."

Lin Daochen was stunned for a moment, then his lips twitched: Good heavens, a dignified immortal actually uses someone's old injury as a weakness? This move is more shameful than cheating, more disgusting than a sneak attack. Lin Daochen would rather lose than lose face like this!

He immediately straightened his face and said firmly, "Master, I cannot comply. Please find another expert. I will not participate in this competition!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already turned to leave. Shen Gongbao panicked immediately—this disciple was his only hope at the moment. If he really abandoned him, not only would all his previous efforts be wasted, but it would also be even more difficult to salvage the situation later.

He quickly grabbed Lin Daochen's sleeve, appealing to his sense of justice and emotions, saying things like, "If this scoundrel escapes, he will surely become a future threat," and "If you back down, you will be condoning evil." Every word he spoke carried weight.

Lin Daochen gritted his teeth and remained motionless. If he were to actually make a move, he would probably be blushing with embarrassment before he even raised his hand.

But then I thought: he came here not to compete, but to win. If that's the case, what difference does it make which method is superior? As long as no one is killed and no foundation is destroyed, a quick victory is a righteous thing to do.

He remained silent for a moment, then finally nodded in agreement. Although he felt awkward, he had to admit that this method was indeed the least effortful and the safest.

Having made up his mind, Lin Daochen no longer hesitated. Over there, the white-robed elder was laughing wildly, his voice shaking the surrounding area: "Hahaha! You little brat, scared out of your wits? Listen up—in this battle, supernatural powers are forbidden; it's all about brute force! With your strength, you can't even touch the hem of my clothes!"

He became increasingly smug as he spoke, as if the outcome was already written all over his face. But in Lin Daochen's eyes, this man was nothing more than a lively puppet, all show and no substance.

He dares to challenge me to a strength contest? Then I'll challenge him. But what we're competing in might not be the "strength" he thinks he's talking about.

Just then, Jiang Ziya's voice drifted from beyond the void.

The white-robed elder stood beneath the dome above, swirling with milky white mist. His gaze pierced through the chaos, revealing Lin Daochen and the others trapped within—this world was as airtight as a glass dome, isolating the inside from the outside, resembling a self-contained cage…

Yet he could still accurately detect the fluctuations in the auras of Jiang Ziya and others outside. This level of perception was beyond the reach of ordinary methods; it was absolute control brought about by overwhelming cultivation.

"I hope you won't interfere in this competition, senior? After all, you set the rules, and it would be impolite to disrupt it midway."

Shen Gongbao, however, showed no restraint, grinned, and loudly transmitted his voice to Lin Daochen.

"My dear disciple, this person is no ordinary being—others cultivate immortality through talismans, borrowing spiritual veins, and forging magical artifacts, but he alone, with his bare hands, relies on every inch of his strength to forcefully break through the Heavenly Gate with his own flesh and blood, ascending to the celestial realm! When you face him, you must be extremely vigilant!"

Lin Daochen was stunned: Ascending to immortality solely through physical means? Could it be the legendary "physical proof of the Dao" master?

Although he may not have truly reached the state of "physical sainthood," the oppressive aura emanating from this person is like a mountain pressing down, and should not be underestimated.

He shook his head with a wry smile—was this sparring with his life on the line? Knowing that his opponent had forged a ferocious fighting physique by smashing bones and draining his life force, why was he being pushed forward to take on the opponent head-on? Did they think he was living too comfortably? He glanced sideways at Shen Gongbao, but the other man simply stood with his hands behind his back, not even sparing a glance.

Perhaps because Shen Gongbao had secretly broken the barrier, Lin Daochen could vaguely glimpse the outline of the deep palace walls outside the screen, and even discern the figures of Jiang Ziya and the others standing solemnly. However, such peeping was truly unfair to the white-robed elder—but at this moment, court etiquette and the rules between ruler and subject were as insignificant as a feather in his eyes.

Victory or defeat is the only truly significant factor.

Suddenly, a deep and familiar voice entered my ears, each word clear: "Disciple, do not panic. How could your master send you to your death? There is a profound reason for arranging this duel—this person has achieved immortality in his physical body, his tendons are like steel cables, his bones are like refined iron, and his moves do not contain the slightest fluctuation of magical power, relying entirely on the toughness of his flesh, the ferocity of his internal organs, and the concentration of his divine will!"

To spar with him is the most direct enlightenment of the physical body. If you can understand the force and rhythm of his punches and kicks, you may one day be able to forge your own path in the physical world. Wouldn't you be tempted by such an opportunity?

Lin Daochen felt a sense of relief—just as he expected. He had always followed the path of talismans and alchemy, keeping a distance from "rough" techniques like body tempering and tendon refining. Now that someone had personally opened the door, how could he not step in?

Seeing that his expression was gradually stabilizing, Shen Gongbao said no more. The opportunity was fleeting, and Lin Daochen needed to be made to personally crash into that wall of flesh and blood immediately. Perhaps in a single encounter, he could gain an unexpected enlightenment.

"Now that I have said this, hurry and go to fight. You can ask me questions later when you are moved by something—I will guide you."

Lin Daochen nodded. Things had come to this point, and there was no other way but to fight.

This confined space was completely dark, not even a sliver of sunlight could penetrate, yet he could clearly see Shen Gongbao and the others standing outside the barrier, their gazes fixed intently on him—strange, but he had no time to ponder it. At this moment, his entire focus was fixed on the white-robed elder opposite him.

The old man hovered in mid-air, his movements calm and composed. He raised his hand to unbutton the robe and slowly took off his wide white robe.

In an instant, a lean and muscular body was revealed—the old man who had been hunched and thin just moments before, as soon as his clothes fell off, his bulging muscles suddenly tightened, his veins throbbing like dragons, and his shoulders and back bulged like rocks, making him look exactly like a fierce tiger from the snowy mountains that had shed its disguise and was poised to pounce on its prey!

Lin Daochen's breath hitched: Good heavens, to be able to develop such physical strength at this age? He must have bent his coffin lid to accumulate this explosive power!

The old man seemed quite pleased with himself. He shook his arms, twisted his waist and straightened his chest, deliberately pushing his bulging biceps and thick, armor-like pectoral muscles forward, his eyes revealing a hint of youthful arrogance.

Lin Daochen silently turned his face away—tsk, at his age, still acting like this, it's both tempting and annoying.

He shook his head slightly, too lazy to bother with it.

The old man's lips curled slightly, his smile gentle yet sharp, much like the martial arts master described in an ancient scroll—a master who carved mountains and rivers with his fists and supported the heavens and earth with his spine.

His aged body was completely at odds with the aura he was exuding at that moment, but the fact was already set in stone, and Lin Daochen had no room for argument.

"Kid, how did it feel? Now you understand how far apart we are, right? But relax—since you know it, I won't bother trying to intimidate you anymore. Let's leave this matter aside for now. Let's get physical and let you experience firsthand what 'physical sainthood' truly means!"

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly roared to the sky, his muscles bulging out like gnarled iron trees, his robes ripped apart inch by inch, and his trouser legs were stretched so tight they almost tore into strips.

Lin Daochen's eyelids twitched, and he cursed the old man inwardly as a complete streaking maniac—but the old man was tough and arrogant, so no matter how much he disliked him, he had to accept the challenge.

Having made his stance clear, he simply nodded slightly, his tone crisp and decisive: "Come on, enough talk."

The words had barely left his mouth when he lowered his shoulders, took a step back, and assumed a defensive stance. But in that instant, a sudden change occurred—

Lin Daochen didn't even catch a glimpse of the afterimage before a heavy blow struck his back, sending him flying like a kite with a broken string. He staggered to his feet, turning back in shock: Had this old man's brute strength really become so domineering? He had truly underestimated him.

"How dare you! You're the first to dare to take my punch head-on with your bare flesh and blood!" The white-robed elder laughed loudly, a hint of genuine admiration flashing across his brows. "To this day, no one has been able to withstand my full-force attack with pure physical strength. Even old fellows two realms higher than me wouldn't dare to block it empty-handed!"

His eyes gleamed—just now, he clearly saw that Lin Daochen had neither activated his spiritual power to protect himself nor used any hand seals to deflect the force; he had simply relied on his muscles, bones, and skin to withstand the Mountain-Crushing Fist!

This is terrifying. In terms of physical strength alone, he can actually rival me? Just how much hellish physical tempering pain has this young man endured?

"Of all the people I've fought, your physique is unmatched. I wonder what story lies behind you... but your next blow won't be so easy to withstand."

He bulged his muscles again, veins bulging like dragons, and grinned to reveal a set of snow-white teeth, making Lin Daochen dizzy.

—This isn't the world of cultivation! It's more like a super-strong old man from some shonen manga has wandered onto the wrong set!

But the other party has openly challenged us. If we back down, wouldn't that be admitting that we are not as skilled as them?

Lin Daochen shook his head, his gaze locking onto that dazzling white robe again—in a daze, that ethereal and otherworldly first impression seemed as distant as a lifetime ago.

The old man before me, baring his teeth and bulging his muscles, was truly a sight to behold. To fight him would be futile in the short term; to not fight him, however, was to suffer excruciating pain from his fists.

Caught in a dilemma, a heavy sense of oppression came over him—the bulging arms, the taut neck, and the eager stance all silently compelled him to take action immediately.

Once the thought was made up, he no longer hesitated. His figure suddenly swayed, leaving only a barely perceptible ripple in his wake.

"Oh? Ha! Interesting!" The old man clapped his hands and laughed. "You thought you could hide in the folds of the void and I wouldn't be able to catch you? Wrong! I have already severed all spiritual consciousness and sunk all my divine sense into my flesh and blood—at this moment, my perception is this body itself!"

"Heartbeat, breath, blood surging... even if you hide three feet underground, I can still pull you out by that last trace of warmth!"

His eyes snapped shut, but his entire being seemed to come alive like a hunting radar, every inch of his muscles pulsating, analyzing, and locking onto targets—having abandoned all magical interference, he pushed his fleshly instincts to their extreme. The "thump" sound from Lin Daochen's chest was as clear as a drumbeat in his ears.

The next second, he suddenly opened his eyes, pushed off with his feet, and rushed straight to where Lin Daochen was hiding!

Indeed, Lin Daochen had concealed his presence—he used the ancient technique of "Shadow Concealment" to distort and refract the light around him, transforming himself into a nearly transparent "illusory form" that silently floated in the air.

Unexpectedly, the old man was able to pinpoint his hiding place with great accuracy. Lin Daochen was shocked and secretly surprised. This was definitely not an ordinary perception method. But there was no way out now, and he could only confront him head-on.

However, he had no intention of showing himself. Since the other party had already figured out his location, he might as well wait for them to come to him and take advantage of their situation.