All the gods began by cultivating the Iron Shirt technique.

"Oh dear, I didn't sleep well at all." The beggar sat up, stretched his arms, and yawned.

Only then did Yang Pan, who had been leaning against the corner of the wall, finally see the beggar's appearance clearly. He had a long face, a white beard under his chin, and rough hands and feet; although his face was full of wrinkles, his body, when stretched out, revealed a robust and vigorous strength far exceeding that of an ordinary old man.

Recalling the scene of the beggar easily defeating the three men with a wave of his hand, Yang Pan's heart stirred, and his gaze was fixed on the old beggar's right hand. At this moment, the other party's palm was still in the air, and Yang Pan could see clearly that the other party's right palm was missing the index finger.

The right hand is missing a finger... Could the other party really be Hong Qigong?

The beggar's appearance matched the one of the Five Greats in Yang Pan's memory perfectly. In terms of martial arts cultivation, although Yang Pan didn't know how high the other party's actual cultivation was, based on the attack that Yang Pan had just made that was so clear that he was almost certain that the other party was Hong Qigong.

The commotion inside the temple had already caught the attention of Lao He and his companions, who were still outside. Just as Yang Pan was pondering this, Lao He and his group arrived at the entrance of the local temple.

"What happened? Fourth brother, how are you guys?"

Hong Qigong's casual palm strike just now seemed to have only forced the men back, without harming their lives. Hearing Lao He's question, the fourth brother struggled to his feet and said in a panic, "Boss, there's a tough one in the temple; we're no match for him."

"A tough nut to crack?"

Upon hearing this, Lao He turned his head, and when his gaze fell upon the leisurely old beggar sitting on the altar, his pupils suddenly contracted.

He was the one who administered the drug, so he knew its effects all too well. He had even used it to successfully ambush a second-rate martial artist, allowing him to kill the man in return. Yet now, the beggar on the altar was completely unaffected, and even managed to repel the fourth brother and his companions. This meant the beggar's cultivation level was definitely above second-rate, at least first-rate.

Damn it! I've been hunting geese all my life, and I never thought I'd fail like this!

Old He's mind raced, but by this point, he had completely lost the will to fight the other party head-on. A master of the martial arts world was someone his level couldn't possibly prey on; he was now only thinking about how to escape from this mysterious, skilled beggar.

Just as Lao He was racking his brains, Hong Qigong on the altar did not make another move. Instead, he turned his gaze to Yang Pan, who was leaning against the corner of the wall.

"The younger generation in the martial arts world these days is really cold-hearted. They insist on hurting an old beggar like me. Young man, how long are you going to keep up this act?" Hong Qigong's tone was not loud, but rather carried a playful teasing tone, as if he were having a casual chat with someone.

However, this very tone of voice was clearly heard by everyone inside and outside the temple. Old He and his companions, who had been hesitating at the entrance, were even more shocked. They had never expected that there would be a master in this earth god temple besides this mysterious old beggar! And that master was actually the naive young man from the martial arts world whom they had always overlooked.

"Master Hong's cultivation is exceptionally high, and this junior really has no chance to make a move." Yang Pan was not embarrassed by being called out on the spot, so he simply stood up straight and clasped his hands in a fist salute to the other party.

Hearing Yang Pan call him Old Master Hong, Hong Qigong didn't seem surprised. Although he had been wandering the martial world for years, appearing and disappearing like a dragon, his distinctive features were still very clear to those in the martial world.

"Oh? You didn't have a chance before, but now you do. Those guys at the door are yours. Don't worry about accidentally killing them; they all deserve to die. Just do as you please. But if your cultivation isn't strong enough, this old beggar won't help you."

Hong Qigong grinned, and after speaking, he simply turned sideways and fell onto the offering table, one hand loosely clenched into a fist and propped up on the side of his head, with one leg extended and the other extended, looking like he was watching a good show.

Seeing this, Yang Pan knew that the other party was probably trying to test his martial arts skills. As for the other party's statement that they wouldn't help, Yang Pan didn't care. Not only did he not think he would lose, but even if he were truly no match for them, given Hong Qigong's character, he would never allow himself to be harmed.

Yang Pan guessed that the other party was retaliating against his previous act of pretending to be asleep. This could be considered a master's wicked sense of humor.

At this moment, Old He and his companions at the temple gate overheard the two people inside deciding their fates in just a few words. Naturally, they were extremely unwilling and even considered launching a preemptive attack. However, when they recalled Yang Pan calling the old beggar "Old Gang Leader Hong," they were deeply shaken.

Old Master Hong? In today's martial arts world, who else besides Hong Qigong, one of the Five Greats, could be an old beggar with the surname Hong who is still called the Old Master by a master?

And yet, these few people were actually targeted by experts at the level of the Five Greats. To escape? To resist? It's utterly ridiculous!

Pfft!

Old He immediately knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly towards the altar in the temple, his forehead hitting the broken stone slab with a thud.

"Senior Hong, we were blind to your greatness! We truly didn't recognize you before. Please, in consideration of our actions—we only robbed you and didn't kill you—spare our lives!"

Old He, with tears streaming down his face, insisted that Yan Ming and his companions had only sought money and hadn't harmed anyone, seemingly to provide strong evidence. He pointed to Wei Hong and the others, who were still unconscious, as he spoke. He reasoned that given Hong Qigong's long-standing reputation as a chivalrous figure in the martial arts world, he should be tempted to spare them.

"Only seeking wealth, not taking lives?" Hong Qigong, seemingly dozing on the altar, repeated Lao He's words as if asking a rhetorical question. Before Lao He could nod in agreement, Hong Qigong suddenly snorted coldly and continued:

"A year ago, in Chengyuan County, Jinzhou, a disabled child was begging in the county. Six months ago, a child who had been crippled in the same way appeared in Lantian County. Three months ago, the body of another disabled child was dumped in Zhongnan Mountain..."

Hong Qigong spoke in a heavy tone, recounting one chillingly tragic event after another. With each recounted event, Old He and the others kneeling at the door trembled, their faces growing even paler.

Because he was responsible for all the injuries and deaths of the children, and the time and place mentioned by the other party matched perfectly.

Yang Pan stood aside and listened attentively. However, with each item Hong Qigong mentioned, his gaze toward Lao He and the others grew colder, until finally he was staring at them as if they were dead.

"Some of these incidents were personally investigated and verified by the old beggar, while others were searched by the gang members. And you, you were directly involved in more than half of these tragedies. You ask me to spare you, but who will spare the children you maimed or killed with your cruel methods!"

Hong Qigong spoke in a leisurely tone, but no one could detect any leisure in it; only a deep, cold chill that cut to the bone.

Old He trembled like a leaf, and when Hong Qigong recounted these events, he already knew he had no way out.

But, but I'm supposed to just sit here and wait to die, to pay for the lives of those insignificant insects? Why should I? Just because you're Hong Qigong? Even if you were the Heavenly King himself, you couldn't expect me to just sit here and wait to die!

A surge of anger welled up inside him. Old He suddenly looked up, his kneeling legs straining to escape behind him, but at that moment...

Clang!

A clanging sound of a blade rang in his ears. Old He instinctively turned his head and saw a dazzling blade of light, like a celestial river falling from the sky, illuminating the night sky outside the temple. The chilling blade, like the raging storm of the previous night, enveloped Old He and his companions.

Whoosh! Pfft! Pfft!

The violent wind of the blade, carrying scalding blood, scattered across the sky. A few breaths later, the dazzling blade light suddenly vanished.

Pfft!Pfft!

Several headless corpses fell to the ground one after another, and the inside and outside of the temple were stained red with their blood, as if they had been repainted with red paint.

Without glancing at the corpses at his feet, Yang Pan looked at the old beggar still lying on the altar and calmly said, "What goes around comes around. Why did the old gang leader bother talking to these scumbags so much, letting them live a little longer for nothing?"

On the offering table, Hong Qigong opened his eyes and looked at the imposing young man standing at the door with a knife in his hand. A hint of admiration flashed in his eyes as he said, "Such a bloodthirsty nature. Boy, what's your name?"

It was only at this moment that Hong Qigong asked Yang Pan's name, as if he had only now acknowledged Yang Pan as a person.

Yang Pan wiped his longsword on the corpse at his feet and sheathed it. He didn't respond to Hong Qigong's words immediately, but instead pondered the brilliant strike he had just made.

The Gale Blade Technique, after three months of sparring with Yu Dongshan, has grown from seventy-two variations to ninety-nine. Although Yang Pan practiced diligently during the ten to fifteen days he traveled to Jinzhou, his progress ultimately slowed down.

He had thought that it would be difficult to make progress again without years of honing his skills, but unexpectedly, because of Hong Qigong's words, his anger was like a torrential downpour, and his state of mind when he slashed out was actually in harmony with the moves of the Gale Blade Technique.

In an instant, the sword technique, which originally could only produce ninety-nine variations, was transformed into one hundred and seventy-two variations.

In an instant, his swordsmanship changed 172 times; such swift and fierce moves were like a raging storm. Ren Laohe and his companions had no way to escape and could only watch helplessly as they were beheaded on the spot.

Yang Pan stood there, digesting his insights. After a long while, he opened his eyes, clasped his hands in greeting to Hong Qigong, and said, "Yang Pan, a fifth-bag disciple of the Beggars' Sect, greets Elder Hong."

"Yang Pan? You're a disciple of my Beggars' Sect?"

Upon hearing Yang Pan introduce himself, Hong Qigong finally showed surprise. He hadn't expected that the young man he had encountered in this dilapidated temple would be a member of his Beggars' Sect, and that as a master of the Five Greats level, he had also witnessed Yang Pan's dazzling slash.

Such swordsmanship is not something a five-bag disciple could display. As the former leader, although he has been out of the business for many years, he still has some understanding of the strength of the Beggars' Sect disciples. Judging from the opponent's swordsmanship and the internal strength he displayed in that instant, he is no less than some of the current hall masters in the sect.

Such a young man, and he's only a five-bag disciple? I'll have to have a good talk with Rong'er about this later.