The ultimate master in the city

"This..." The old monk was stunned by Zhou Fengchen's imposing presence. His eyes widened in disbelief. "May I ask how old you are?"

"21 years old!" Zhou Fengchen opened his heart gate and Qi sea fully. These monks were all experts, not comparable to ordinary martial artists. Even his own old man, Chen Lao, might not be able to last ten moves against this old monk.

"21? Impossible!" The old monk shook his head in shock. "I have been immersed in Shaolin's martial arts for over thirty years, and I still have some discernment. My external martial arts have reached their pinnacle, and my internal martial arts have also reached an extremely high level. This is simply not something a young man in his twenties or thirties can do. Who are you?"

"Stop with the nonsense!" Zhou Fengchen waved his hand and said, "I'm not on the same wavelength as you guys, let's get this started!"

The old monk took a deep breath and said in a deep voice, "The Arhat Formation! This person's skill is higher than we expected!"

"ha!"

Eighteen young monks quickly surrounded Zhou Fengchen, striking a "messy" pose.

Zhou Fengchen looked around and frowned. He often saw Shaolin monks setting up formations on TV and thought it was quite fun and fake. But now he felt completely different. Although the monks' formations looked chaotic, their sharp attack postures were everywhere, making people feel like they had thorns in their backs and making them feel uncomfortable all over. Moreover, they were almost without any flaws.

He wasn't afraid, but he didn't want to use Taoist magic to deal with a group of vengeful, inexplicable monks, just like his duel with Monk Yimu was a simple martial arts contest.

He carefully recalled what his father had taught him before, closed his eyes and then opened them again: "Use stillness to control movement, and you will naturally be able to break through."

Then he coughed and said, "Come on! Let's get started!"

The old monk Xinglin outside was taken aback. Anyone surrounded by such an array would first feel discomfort and then rush out. How could this kid be so calm? He waved his hand: "Attack!"

"ha!"

Eighteen monks attacked from all directions, their fierce fists, feet, and foul breath all coming at once.

In a split second, Zhou Fengchen quickly found an opening, and two monks bumped into him, causing them to stumble.

"Dislocate tendons and bones!" he shouted in a low voice, his movements unpredictable, appearing beside the two monks in the blink of an eye. Fist against fist, leg against leg, slap slap! The two monks staggered, and then he took the opportunity to circle behind them, slapping them horizontally with both palms, sending them flying and blocking the punches and kicks of a group of people.

Then he throws a punch, dodges one person, throws another punch, dodges another person...

And then...

Thump, thump, a bunch of monks fell to the ground.

Zhou Fengchen was completely unharmed!

The old monk Xinglin outside was startled and quickly shouted, "Tiger-Subduing Formation!"

"Oh!"

The eighteen young monks grimaced, enduring the pain from Zhou Fengchen's beating, and quickly formed a battle formation, surrounding Zhou Fengchen in a corner.

"Interesting!" Zhou Fengchen grinned, looking at the group of monks. "My punches and kicks are quite powerful; they must feel uncomfortable to be hit by them, right?"

The group of monks looked at each other, feeling a pang of fear, but more than anything, they felt a sense of frustration and resentment. They were all about the same age, so how could this kid be so amazing? What made him so special?

"Strike!" the old monk Xinglin called out again.

"Ha!" The eighteen young monks rushed forward, all with all their might, even going so far as to kill!

Zhou Fengchen's greatest strength in fighting is that once he's fought you, he can almost instantly figure out your skill level and fighting style. Therefore, he even had time to speak in that brief moment: "Your skills were already uneven, and now that you're flustered and impatient, you're even worse!"

With that, he sprang to his feet and kicked out, "Shadow Split Kick!"

Snapped!Snapped!Snapped!

Three monks flew out instantly.

Taking advantage of the moment when the other monks attacked, he flashed behind one of them, threw him to the back and knocked down three of them, then swept his lower body with a sideways swing, knocking down several more, and then kicked a few more away in a zigzag motion.

It would be best to strike the last, slightly older monk standing there with a leaping palm!

Snapped!

The monk fell cleanly and neatly to the ground, sliding four or five meters along the floor.

The monks lay on the ground again, clutching their arms and legs, groaning in pain, while Zhou Fengchen remained unharmed.

The old monk Xinglin was dumbfounded!

At this moment, a monk on the ground, clutching his left leg and covered in sweat, said, "Uncle-Master! We can't beat him! His movements are too abnormal, we can't hit him, and his moves are too powerful. We're simply not in the same league as him!"

The old monk Xinglin nodded, his face serious. He clenched his fists and unleashed a powerful punch. "Please enlighten me!"

Zhou Fengchen smiled and assumed a similar starting stance. "I dare not accept such praise!"

"Take this!"

The old monk Xinglin made the first move, his fists flying like the wind, striking without any fancy moves.

Zhou Fengchen stared intently at his fist and nodded secretly. The old monk's punches were perfect in terms of power, momentum, and trajectory, a thousand times stronger than Monk Yimu. He quickly met the punch head-on.

Snapped!

The old monk staggered slightly, his eyes narrowed, and he raised his leg to kick.

Zhou Fengchen also met the attack with his leg.

Snapped!Snapped!Snapped!

Fist against fist, foot against foot, Zhou Fengchen was very relaxed, while the old monk was in a very sorry state.

At this moment, Zhou Fengchen found an opening, leaned in, and slapped him across the chest.

boom!

The old monk staggered back seven or eight steps before crashing into the wall. His blood churned, and a trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

"Uncle-Master!" The eighteen young monks, who were staggering to their feet, were taken aback by what they saw.

Zhou Fengchen laughed and said, "Don't get excited! The old monk is very clever. This is called 'unblocking the obstruction,' a profound internal energy cultivation technique. Spitting blood actually didn't cause any injury."

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The old monk Xinglin smiled, which was taken as an admission. Then he took a few steps forward, and inexplicably shook his body, his face and neck muscles tensed up, and then his palms moved up and down in a very strange posture.

"You used two of the Seventy-Two Shaolin Arts at once: Iron Shirt and Double Locks! Impressive! But do you think you can lock me down?"

Zhou Fengchen shook his head, his hands forming claws, one in front of the other, and stood on one leg. "The Seventy-Two Shaolin Arts, I happen to know one of them!"

The old monk Xinglin was stunned, and exclaimed, "Nine Yin White Bone Claw?! Shaolin has lost this technique. Where did you learn it?"

"That's none of your business!" Zhou Fengchen smiled. "Come on!"

With a gloomy face, the old monk Xinglin roared and pounced.

Zhou Fengchen rushed towards him.

The eighteen young monks behind them watched intently, their eyes gleaming despite having just been beaten. This was a life-or-death duel between two masters, unlike any other contest in the temple!

However, they were soon disappointed and terrified.

Zhou Fengchen moved about strangely, and the old monk Xinglin couldn't touch him at all. In the blink of an eye, his monk's robe was torn, and seven or eight claw marks were left on his body.

At this moment, Zhou Fengchen jumped up, stretched out two fingers, and tapped the old monk Xinglin's throat, brow, and temples.

The old monk Xinglin's tense muscles relaxed instantly, his Golden Bell Shield shattered, and he was then sent flying by Zhou Fengchen's palm strike, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

This time, he really vomited blood.

"Uncle-Master!" a group of young monks cried out, utterly terrified.

The old monk Xinglin, clutching his stomach, waved his hand to stop them, then looked at Zhou Fengchen, "The lost Shaolin Nine Yin White Bone Claw and the Duan family's unique One Yang Finger! Who are you?"

Zhou Fengchen squinted and approached, whispering, "Who I am isn't important. What's important is... I'll say it again, I didn't kill Yimu. If you dare to cause any more trouble, don't blame me for being impolite!"

"Hold him back, let Uncle-Master go first!" A group of young monks behind him, not knowing what Zhou Fengchen was going to do to the old monk, rushed over in a flurry.

Zhou Fengchen was annoyed. Damn it, a bunch of idiots! He turned around and kicked, sending three or four flying. The rest pounced on him like madmen, just grabbing him!

Zhou Fengchen had no choice but to use his lightness skill to beat them all down one by one.

In the midst of this chaos, he suddenly became wary, feeling as if he were being targeted by a sharp-tongued critic.

Whoosh!

At that moment, a whooshing sound rushed straight towards his heart. Zhou Fengchen broke out in a cold sweat and hurriedly dodged to the side. However, he only managed to dodge slightly before a steel needle-like object pierced his ribs. A sharp pain shot through him, and he involuntarily sat down on the ground with a thud.

This wasn't a hidden weapon thrown by the monks!

He subconsciously looked in the direction from which the sound came and found it was at the corner on the second floor. There happened to be a corner of clothing there, which disappeared in a flash and went upstairs.

I like the novel "The Strongest Master in the City".