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

"With his current strength, he is no match for ordinary terrestrial immortals."

A slight smile played on his lips, and he felt incredibly pleased.

Just then, a feeling suddenly arose in my heart.

He suddenly stood up, and in a flash, he dashed out of the Sutra Repository like a ghost.

On the other side, in front of Wudang Mountain.

Mo Shenggu stared at the red-robed, bald monk not far away, his tone impatient: "Old monk, I'm going back to the mountain soon, don't follow me anymore! Get out of here before I make a move! Once you're in Wudang territory, it won't be so easy for you to leave."

Upon hearing this, Kumārajīva merely smiled faintly, his brows furrowed with arrogance: "Seventh Hero Mo's words cannot frighten this humble monk."

"It is not that I am arrogant, but in this world, apart from a handful of terrestrial immortals, there are very few who can fight me head-on without being defeated."

"Master Zhang is renowned for his great reputation, and I have long heard of him and have always wanted to learn a thing or two from him."

He paused, then said meaningfully, "I heard that Master Zhang was severely injured in his battle with the Great Yuan Demon Sect... I wonder how his injuries are now?"

"Bullshit!" Mo Shenggu immediately exploded. "Who said my master was injured? This mere scum of the Demonic Sect dares to injure my master? My master is in seclusion, cultivating his Dao, understand?"

He was speechless. His master was practicing Tai Chi on the mountain, but it was all made out that he was seriously injured and on the verge of death.

"That's perfect!" Kumārajīva laughed heartily, his spirit soaring. "It wouldn't be an unfair victory if this humble monk defeated Master Zhang. Today is the day this humble monk's name will resound throughout the martial world! Hahaha!"

He looked as if the title of Zhang Sanfeng was already hanging on his belt.

Mo Shenggu rolled his eyes. This old monk was not only ridiculously stubborn, but also incredibly confident.

Too lazy to waste words, he snorted coldly, and with a flash, stepped directly into the mountain gate.

Upon seeing this, Kumārajīva gave chase without hesitation.

But just as he stepped across the threshold, a figure appeared out of nowhere and blocked his way.

"Master Uncle!"

Mo Shenggu was taken aback, then exclaimed in delight.

The newcomer, dressed in a simple blue robe, with a cool and aloof expression, was none other than Lin Daochen, who had rushed over from the Sutra Repository.

"Nephew Sheng Gu, what is it?" Lin Daochen asked calmly, his gaze already sweeping towards the red-robed monk behind him.

Mo Shenggu quickly bowed and gave a brief report on his trip to Leigu Mountain and how Kumozhi had been so persistent.

After finishing speaking, Mo Shenggu turned to Lin Daochen, his tone slightly somber:

"Master, although this old monk has been chasing me all the way, he has never really tried to kill me. Please be merciful and let him go."

In fact, the two had exchanged a few words intermittently during their escape. While Kumārajīva was sharp-tongued, frequently spouting phrases like "Grandmaster is invincible," Mo Shenggu saw this Western Region monk as nothing more than a martial arts fanatic with deep-seated obsessions, not a truly vicious villain. Furthermore, since the other party never intended to kill, he went along with it and spoke a conciliatory word on his behalf.

Lin Daochen nodded silently.

Mo Shenggu immediately turned around and said to Kumārajīva:

"Master, let's go. My senior master has arrived; you are no match for him, and there's no point in continuing this entanglement."

Kumārajīva frowned and gave a cold laugh.

He had roamed the Western Regions for many years; what kind of people hadn't he met? On Mount Wudang, the only universally acknowledged master was Zhang Sanfeng. As for this so-called reclusive senior brother? Never even heard of him!

This young Taoist priest thinks he can fool him by bringing along an old Taoist to pretend to be a ghost? How naive!

"Hmph! Mo Qixia, don't try these tricks!"

"Among your Wudang disciples, only your master, Master Zhang, is worthy of my respect. The rest are nothing but mediocre people."

"Your senior brother may have some talent, but to say he can rival this humble monk—he's far from it!"

After speaking, he stood tall with his head held high, exuding an imposing aura.

Mo Shenggu was speechless for a moment. This old monk was ridiculously confident.

Good medicine tastes bitter, but some people just insist on hitting a brick wall.

He was too lazy to persuade him any further.

Just then, Lin Daochen spoke slowly, his voice low, yet as clear as a cold spring dripping on a stone:

"Kumārajīva, for the sake of Sheng Gu's plea for you, I will give you one more chance to live."

"Retreat now, and we will forgive and forget what happened."

"If you remain obstinate... then don't blame me for being ruthless."

Kumārajīva looked up at the sky and laughed coldly:

"Arrogant! Even if Master Zhang himself came, he wouldn't dare to look down on me like this!"

"Today, this humble monk will see whether you truly possess extraordinary abilities or are merely skilled in empty words!"

"Then go ahead and make your move."

Lin Daochen stood with his hands behind his back, his expression indifferent. "I'll let you attack first."

The air seemed to freeze for a moment after those words were spoken.

A mere mortal Grandmaster is nothing compared to him, a cultivator at the seventh level of Qi Refining. He's not even a warm-up.

Kumārajīva had no idea what was going on. He only felt that this person was extremely arrogant!

"Alright! Take this palm strike and test its strength!"

Before he could finish speaking, the palm strike had already landed.

boom--!

The sound of Buddhist chanting resounded, and the palm strike tore through the void, hurtling straight towards Lin Daochen's face with immense force.

Lin Daochen's eyes flickered slightly, and he shook his head and whispered:

"Using the Lesser Formless Skill to activate the Prajna Palm is absurd; it resembles the form but not the spirit."

Having said that, he flicked his finger.

The spiritual energy, like a thread, precisely targets the weakest point in the center of the palm strike.

In an instant, the violent and unparalleled energy dissipated like a burst bubble.

"How...how did you know I was using the Lesser Formless Skill?"

Kumārajīva's pupils contracted sharply, and his voice changed tone.

Lin Daochen did not answer, but only said calmly:

"That palm strike just now is null and void."

"Last chance—go all out. Otherwise, you won't even have the chance to fight next."

"Playing tricks! This humble monk is determined to see your skills today!"

With a roar, Kumārajīva unleashed his inner energy, which surged wildly within him. He clasped his hands together, and a flash of fire appeared in his palms, instantly condensing into a blazing ball of flame!

The next instant, he suddenly thrust out a palm strike—

Boom!!!

The flames surged, transforming into a massive, blade-shaped fiery aura, as if divine punishment had struck down, burning mountains and boiling seas with terrifying power!

This strike was his trump card – the Flaming Blade!

All my life's work can be culminated in a single strike!

Faced with this blow that could split mountains and shatter rocks, Lin Daochen remained unmoved, simply raising one hand and gently striking out.

The sun burns the sky palm.

Originally a common martial art, it has been transformed by his spiritual power, becoming incredibly powerful!

boom--!!!

The world suddenly became hot, and the void distorted.

A gigantic hand that blotted out the sky appeared out of thin air, its entire body burning with golden flames, like the hand of the sun descending from the heavens, carrying a terrifying aura that could burn away the eight wastelands, and fiercely met the attack!

A fleeting clash—

The flaming blade disintegrated instantly, like a withered branch meeting fire, vanishing without a trace!

The momentum continued unabated, the giant hand carrying a rolling heat wave aimed directly at the top of Kumārajīva's head!

"How...how could this old Taoist priest be so strong?!"

Kumārajīva's expression changed drastically, and a thunderclap exploded in his heart—

Terrifying! Absolutely terrifying!

The colossal hand that blotted out the sky pressed down upon him, like the collapse of the heavens, locking him firmly in the center, with no way to dodge or escape, as if even his breath was being crushed. The chill of death shot up his spine to his head, and Kumārajīva's pupils constricted sharply—this attack was fatal!

"Let's give it our all!"

He roared, his inner energy surging wildly as he unleashed several fiery blades. The blades were blazing, tearing through the air, but the moment they touched the palm print, they vanished like snow meeting boiling water.

Lin Daochen's palm strike was as powerful as thunder, crushing all resistance and heading straight for his face!

"Master, spare my life!"

On the brink of life and death, Kumārajīva instinctively screamed for mercy. Even ants cling to life, let alone a grandmaster like him, who possessed supreme power. How could he possibly wish to perish at Wudang?

Lin Daochen remained indifferent, as if he hadn't heard anything, and his palm strike didn't diminish in the slightest.

Just as Kumārajīva was in utter despair, Mo Shenggu suddenly spoke:

"Master Uncle, spare his life!"

Before the words were even finished, the palm print had already arrived.

boom!

"puff--!"

Kumārajīva spat out a mouthful of blood, and his entire body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily to the ground, his bones seemingly about to shatter.

But he is still alive.

It wasn't that he was strong, but that Lin Daochen stopped.

Lin Daochen looked down at him, his tone calm yet authoritative:

"Out of consideration for Mo Shenggu's pleading for you, I will spare your life today."

"But you coveted my grand-disciple and trespassed through the mountain gate. You may be spared the death penalty, but you cannot escape punishment. From now on, you shall atone for your sins by sweeping the grounds of Wudang."

Having said that, he lightly tapped his fingertip, and a beam of light entered Kumārajīva's dantian.

"This is the Mind Control Seal. With a single thought from me, your heart meridian will shatter instantly."

"If you dare to leave the mountain without permission, you will die instantly. Whether you believe it or not is just a matter of a single thought."

After saying that, he vanished in a flash, not even bothering to give her another glance.

Kumārajīva was left slumped on the ground, his face deathly pale.

After a long while, he struggled to lift his head and look at Mo Shenggu, his voice hoarse:

"Mo Qixia... does your senior uncle really possess such abilities?"

The dignified National Preceptor of Tibet had been reduced to a menial sweeper, utterly disgraced. Given the chance, how could he willingly remain?

Mo Shenggu chuckled softly, his tone indifferent:

"My senior master never speaks falsehoods."

"Don't believe me? Feel free to try. But I advise you not to gamble—you only have one life."

"You've heard how Ding Chunqiu died. That talisman was a gift from my master. Tell me, how many more tricks does he have up his sleeve that you don't know about?"

Kumārajīva remained silent for a long time before finally looking up at the sky and sighing.

This time, we failed.

Who would have thought that such a terrifying old Taoist priest was hidden deep in the Wudang Mountains?

Oh well... I'll just sweep the floor then.

I can afford to lose face, but I can't lose my life.

Just then, Song Yuanqiao and the others arrived upon hearing the commotion.

"Seventh Junior Brother, you're back? You've certainly made a grand entrance this time!" Yu Lianzhou teased with a smile. "Slaying Old Monster Ding in one move, who in the martial world doesn't know the legendary name of Seventh Hero Mo?"

The others joined in the banter, creating a lively atmosphere.

Mo Shenggu quickly clasped his hands in a gesture of respect:

"Senior brothers, please spare me! That attack was entirely due to the talisman bestowed by our senior master; it wasn't my skill at all!"

Song Yuanqiao's gaze sharpened as he looked at the disheveled man on the ground:

Who is this person?

"Senior Brother, this is the Tibetan National Preceptor, Kumārajīva." Mo Shenggu briefly recounted what had happened.

Upon hearing this, everyone cast complex glances at him.

He gave up being a proper imperial advisor and insisted on coming to Wudang. Now he's ended up being a servant, a cruel twist of fate.

However... he was lucky.

If it weren't for Mo Shenggu's intercession, he would have been a corpse by now, joining those Qin warriors in death.

Song Yuanqiao stepped forward, clasped his hands in greeting, and said:

"So it is the Great Wheel King, my apologies for my disrespect."

Kumārajīva smiled wryly and waved his hand:

"No need for such formalities, Master Song. I am now just a lowly sweeper at Wudang."

Song Yuanqiao didn't say much and ordered someone to take him away to be settled.

Several fellow disciples then gathered back inside the house, sat in a circle, and inquired in detail about Mo Shenggu's experiences on this trip.

When they heard that he had acquired Wu Yazi's decades of internal energy, everyone was overjoyed.