My cultivation disguise has been exposed by Xiao Sizi.

The spirit steed, enveloped in crimson flames, charged madly toward the city gate.

The horse's hooves crushed the bluestone slabs, kicking up large plumes of choking dust.

The arrogant young man in fine clothes on horseback swung his long leather whip through the air, creating a piercing sonic boom.

The surrounding people screamed in terror, dropping their carrying poles and vegetable baskets and scrambling to escape into the ditches on either side.

The spirit steed was enormous, and its eyes gleamed with a ferocious red light.

They were about to crash into that slow-moving oxcart.

The old farmer driving the cart was so frightened that he turned pale and slumped down on the cart shaft.

The old ox trembled all over, its front hooves buckled, and it knelt directly on the ground.

At the critical moment, a gray figure floated down from the oxcart.

The monk Mingxin clasped his hands together and steadily blocked the galloping spirit horse.

His tattered gray robe fluttered in the strong wind.

His thin frame, however, exuded a calm and steadfast composure.

The young scoundrel in brocade robes, seeing someone dare to block his way, flashed a cruel killing intent in his eyes.

"You reckless monk, just die!"

With a sudden flick of his wrist, the long, barbed animal-hide whip transformed into a venomous snake, lashing fiercely at Monk Mingxin's face.

If this whip were to strike hard, an ordinary person would surely suffer torn skin, broken bones, and fractured tendons.

Monk Mingxin did not dodge.

He didn't even blink.

Just as the whip was about to touch the tip of his nose, he slowly extended his right hand.

A rough hand made a precise scoop in mid-air.

A muffled "snap" sounded.

He actually managed to firmly grasp that incredibly powerful whip in his palm.

The barb scratched the skin on my palm, and a few drops of blood seeped out.

But the expression on Monk Mingxin's face remained as calm as a still well.

"My friend, your heart is too restless."

The monk Mingxin spoke calmly, then suddenly pulled his right arm back.

A powerful force belonging to a Foundation Establishment cultivator suddenly erupted.

The young scoundrel in brocade felt an irresistible force on his hand, and he was thrown off his horse.

"Bang!"

The young rascal danced wildly in mid-air before crashing heavily onto a vegetable stall by the roadside.

He was completely covered by rotten vegetable leaves and broken bamboo baskets.

The out-of-control fiery spirit steed let out a mournful cry, and was forced to stop in place by the monk Mingxin pressing his palm on its forehead.

The surrounding people were all dumbfounded.

After a brief silence, a pig-like scream erupted from the pile of vegetables.

"My back is killing me!"

The richly dressed young scoundrel struggled to crawl out from the rotten vegetable leaves, with half a broken bamboo basket still on his head.

His slicked-back face was now contorted with rage.

"What are you all standing there for? Chop this bastard monk into pieces and feed him to the dogs!"

The eight armed guards following the young scoundrel finally snapped out of their daze.

They drew their gleaming swords from their waists and charged at Monk Mingxin with a roar.

These guards were all at the late stage of Qi Refining, and they were used to bullying and oppressing the young master.

His attacks were ruthless and merciless.

Faced with eight steel blades aimed at vital points, Monk Mingxin did not retreat but advanced.

The mantras of Mahayana Buddhism and the earnest teachings of that five-year-old girl echoed in his mind.

"Amitabha Buddha, please forgive me."

The monk Mingxin chanted a Buddhist prayer in a low voice.

He didn't use any magic; instead, he simply swung his two fists, each the size of a sandbag.

He met the blade of the first guard head-on with a powerful punch.

"Snap!"

The long sword, forged from fine steel, was smashed in two by a single punch.

The fist continued its momentum, landing squarely on the guard's eye socket.

The guard screamed and flew backward like a kite with a broken string.

It crashed heavily onto the distant city wall and immediately passed out.

The monk Mingxin's movements were not flashy; in fact, one could say they were somewhat clumsy.

But every punch he threw carried an indomitable spirit.

This is the truth he has just realized: without destruction there can be no construction; without fighting there can be no surrender.

"This punch is like an endless sea of ​​suffering."

Monk Mingxin whispered, and with a sweeping blow, he shattered the kneecaps of two guards.

"This punch is a lesson in turning back before it's too late."

He turned and delivered an elbow strike, slamming it heavily into the attacker's chest.

With a cracking sound of bones breaking, the man coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed limply to the ground.

In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

The eight fierce-looking guards were all lying on the ground, howling and rolling around in pain.

The ground was littered with broken knives and blood, a horrifying sight.

Monk Mingxin dusted off his robes and strode up to the richly dressed young scoundrel.

The young bully was so frightened that he backed away and fell down on his butt in the mud.

He pointed at the monk, his fingers trembling.

"Don't come any closer! My father is the Grand Elder of the Wang family!"

Monk Mingxin ignored his threat.

He walked to the scattered stalls nearby and picked up a small stool with a missing leg.

Then, grabbing the young scoundrel by the collar, he forced him to sit down on the low stool.

"Since you don't understand Mahayana Buddhism, this humble monk knows a little about martial arts."

The monk Mingxin looked down at him, his tone exuding an unquestionable authority.

The young scoundrel was about to struggle to his feet.

The monk Mingxin slapped him on the shoulder.

The force was as heavy as Mount Tai, pressing down on the young thug so hard he dared not move, feeling as if the bones in his shoulders were about to shatter.

"Benefactor, now we can reason with each other calmly."

Monk Mingxin took out the yellowed book of Mahayana Buddhism from his bosom.

He turned to the first page, cleared his throat, and began to recite it with great expression.

"Thus have I heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in the country of Shravasti, in the Anathapindika's Park, with a great assembly of twelve hundred and fifty monks..."

The resounding chanting echoed through the bustling city gate.

The young scoundrel sat on a low stool, his face bruised and swollen, on the verge of tears.

He tried to run, but the large hand on his shoulder gripped him tightly like an iron clamp.

He tried to cover his ears, but Monk Mingxin glared at him, scaring him so much that he had no choice but to obediently put his hands down.

It took a full half hour to recite.

The young bully's eyes had gone from anger to blankness, and finally to deep despair.

He had never suffered like this before in his entire life.

On the oxcart.

Sizi watched with great interest as she munched on her candied hawthorn.

The little girl swung her legs back and forth, her face full of pride.

"Look, Sixteenth Brother, Mingxin is learning so fast!"

Li Chen leaned against the haystack, his lips twitching slightly.

He looked at the spoiled young man who was being forced to listen to the sermon and actually felt a pang of sympathy.

Getting beaten up is at most a physical injury.

Being forced to chant sutras by this mad monk was nothing short of a double torment to the mind.

Just then, the guards inside the city gate finally arrived after hearing the news.

A group of heavily armored city guards, armed with long spears, stormed away from the crowd of onlookers.

"Who dares to gather a crowd and cause trouble outside Brahma City!"