Under One Person: The Taoist Priest Descends the Mountain

Xu Xin beckoned, and a disciple stepped forward, holding a fan in his hand.

The fan is made of paper and looks no different from an ordinary folding fan.

The disciple opened his fan and fanned himself.

Suddenly, three thin needles flew out from the fan ribs and stuck into the target in a straight line.

Xu Xin said, "Hiding a needle in a fan is not unusual; many martial arts schools can do it."

Cheng Mo clapped: "Brilliant!"

Xu Xin said with a smile, "If Master Cheng is interested, you can go up and give it a try."

Cheng Mo waved his hand: "No, no, just take a look."

Xu Xin did not force him.

After all the disciples had finished their presentations, Xu Xin walked to the center of the square.

"Everyone, I'm going to perform a piece for you now."

He cleared his throat and suddenly started singing.

"Tang Xin, a disciple of the Tang Clan, is hereby inaugurated as the Clan Master. Thank you all for coming!"

He sang and danced at the same time, waving his hands, stepping, and turning around at a fast pace. Surprisingly, he did a pretty good job of it, matching the lyrics perfectly.

"The Tang Clan's hidden weapons are renowned throughout the land: throwing darts, flying knives, and caltrops—"

"Even a blowgun dart can be hidden in a sleeve or a fan; a hairpin can also be used as a weapon—"

"They shed blood and sweat to fight against Japan and save the nation; now we only hope that this legacy can be passed down."

"Thank you all for coming. The Tang Clan will never forget your kindness—"

"Hahaha—the performance is over!"

After singing the last line, he made a bowing gesture, clasping his hands together and bowing deeply.

The entire room fell silent for a second.

Then thunderous applause erupted.

Xia He clapped until her palms were red: "Good! Good! One more!"

Cheng Mo's eyes twitched as he looked at the expressions of the Tang Clan members around him.

Zhang Wang stroked his beard, his face full of wrinkles; Tang Qiushan clapped louder than anyone else; Tang Ming clapped with red eyes.

The Tang Clan disciples were not surprised at all. Some were whistling, some were shouting "Good!", and one young disciple was even recording a video on his phone, apparently to post it online.

Does every leader of the Tang Clan have to go through this?

Cheng Mo simply couldn't imagine Tang Miaoxing, with that deadpan face, pulling off such a stunt; just thinking about it gave him goosebumps.

"Little Taoist priest, what are you thinking about?" Xia He asked, leaning closer.

Cheng Mo lowered his voice: "I was thinking, what kind of scene would it be if Tang Miaoxing did something like that?"

Xia He imagined it for a moment, then shuddered: "Don't think about it, it's terrifying."

……

After Tang Xin finished singing and dancing, the enthronement ceremony concluded, and the Tang Clan disciples began preparing the banquet.

The tables and chairs in the square were rearranged, covered with red tablecloths, and set out with melon seeds, peanuts, candies, and drinks.

The aroma of food wafted from the kitchen, and several Tang Clan disciples wearing white aprons carried trays as they moved through the crowd.

Tang Xin changed into casual clothes and went around offering tea to people.

Cheng Mo and Xia He found a corner to sit down and had just grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds when they heard someone speaking loudly next to them.

"Wang Zhenqiu! I challenge you!"

His voice was loud and clear, and the entire square could hear it.

Cheng Mo turned his head and saw Hong Bin standing in the center of the square, wearing a red traditional Chinese jacket, his face and neck flushed red, whether from anger or heat, it was hard to tell. He stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes searching through the crowd.

Wang Zhenqiu was chatting with someone at another table, his long blond hair standing out in the crowd.

Hearing the shout, he turned around blankly, a piece of pastry still dangling from his mouth, his cheeks bulging. Combined with his androgynous, handsome face, he evoked pity in countless people.

Several other people nearby whispered among themselves, "Who is that? He's really good-looking."

"That red-haired guy is causing him trouble? That's going too far."

Cheng Mo casually remarked, "You jerk, as a man, you need to stand up for yourself. If you're not happy, then fight me."

His voice wasn't loud, but it resonated throughout the entire venue, clearly reaching everyone's ears.

Many people turned to look at Cheng Mo, and then at Wang Zhenqiu.

A middle-aged man in a floral shirt asked the person next to him, "That red-haired guy is called a scoundrel? Challenging beautiful women, he certainly looks like a scoundrel."

Someone nearby who recognized Hong Bin explained, "The one with the red hair is the Little Fire God of the Huode Sect."

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The man in the floral shirt then looked at Wang Zhenqiu: "Who's that bastard?"

Cheng Mo casually added, "You blond bastard, if you're a man, go for it! What are you standing there for?"

Everyone followed his gaze to Wang Zhenqiu and was shocked.

"Is this beautiful woman a man?"

"No way! It's so beautiful!"

"Look at his Adam's apple, he really does have it!"

Holy crap!

Many people became even more excited, their eyes shining: "A man? Such a handsome man? Wow~~~"

Upon hearing this, the people around him retreated sharply, many of them covering their buttocks.

The man in the floral shirt jumped back a large step, covering his back with his hands: "Do you Fire Virtue Sect people have such unique tastes?"

Hong Bin's face turned even redder, this time from anger: "He's not from our Huode Sect! He's a complete scoundrel!"

Wang Zhenqiu's face darkened, and he stood up, shouting towards Cheng Mo's group, "Come and fight!"

Cheng Mo immediately stretched his arms and legs, stood up, and rolled up his sleeves: "Are you serious?"

Wang Zhenqiu pointed at Hong Bin, his gaze shifting to him: "I'm talking about you!"

The old men from the Tang Clan immediately cleared a large space for the two of them, and they stood five meters apart.

The people eating around them put down their bowls and chopsticks, quite interested.

Hong Bin flipped his hands over, and two balls of flame rose from his palms, distorting the air with heat.

With a wave of his hands, the two balls of flame transformed into two fire snakes, attacking Wang Zhenqiu simultaneously from the left and right sides.

Wang Zhenqiu dodged to the side, the flames grazing his hair and singing a few strands. He touched the ends of his hair with a pained expression, his face darkening: "You burned my hair?"

Hong Bin didn't waste any words. He waved his hands repeatedly, and balls of flame flew out from his palms. Some went in straight lines, some went in arcs, and some spun in the air, surrounding Wang Zhenqiu.

Wang Zhenqiu moved swiftly, his figure elusive, weaving through the gaps in the flames.

He flipped his left hand, and flames rose in his palm, a darker color and a higher temperature than Hong Bin's.

The fire snakes collided, hissing and sparks flying, and the two flames extinguished each other.

Hong Bin crossed his hands in front of him, and the two balls of flame merged together, turning into a fire snake that lunged at Wang Zhenqiu.

Wang Zhenqiu neither dodged nor avoided the attack. The flame in his palm transformed into a fire snake, and the two fire snakes collided in mid-air, exploding into a shower of sparks.

Hong Bin took two steps back, made a hand seal, and his Qi surged. Flames spread from his palms to his arms, burning his entire arm. His sleeves burned to ashes, revealing the solid muscles underneath.

Fiery Fist!

He threw a punch, and flames shot out from his fist, forming a pillar of fire that went straight for Wang Zhenqiu's chest.

Wang Zhenqiu clasped his hands together in front of him, and the flames in his palms condensed into a fire shield. The pillar of fire crashed into the fire shield, and flames scattered everywhere, scorching the ground between the two of them.

Hong Bin punched Wang Zhenqiu repeatedly, unleashing wave after wave of flames, forcing Wang Zhenqiu to retreat.

Wang Zhenqiu took three steps back, then suddenly stopped. He flipped his hands, and the fire shield turned into fireballs. Ten fireballs rose up at the same time, lined up in a row, and hung in mid-air.

Ten Directions Fire.

Hong Bin's eyes widened: "You can do that too?"

Wang Zhenqiu smiled, flicked his finger, and ten fireballs flew towards Hong Bin simultaneously.

Hong Bin swung his hands repeatedly, smashing the fireballs with each punch, but the sparks from the explosions splattered onto his body, burning several holes in his clothes.

He had just finished hitting ten when Wang Zhenqiu conjured up ten more.

Ten more.

Ten more.

Hong Bin's hands went numb from hitting the flames. The temperature of the flames rose higher and higher, and his arms turned red from the heat. His forehead was covered in sweat.

Wang Zhenqiu stood on the opposite side, calm and composed, even having time to brush his singed hair.

Hong Bin gritted his teeth and concentrated all his Qi into his right fist. The flames on his fist turned white, and the temperature was so high that the air itself seemed to distort.

Great Fiery Fist!

He threw a punch, and a white pillar of fire shot straight at Wang Zhenqiu.

This time, Wang Zhenqiu did not use a fire shield. He crossed his hands in front of him, and a vortex appeared in his palms. The fire pillar crashed into the vortex and was shattered, absorbed, and dissipated.

Hong Bin's punch missed, and he staggered forward two steps.

Wang Zhenqiu pointed a finger at his forehead.

Hong Bin was stunned.

Wang Zhenqiu withdrew his hand and smiled: "You lost."