White Tiger Muscle Tendon Strengthening Pill

"Wolf cub!"

Seeing Wang Lang fly backward like a deflated leather ball, blood spewing from his mouth, half-dead, General Wang cried out in shock, a flicker of pain flashing through his eyes.

Yet that flicker of pain was cold and detached, as if he were not looking at a person but at a piece of art.

"Good! Very good! Little monk, you're called Jingming, aren't you? You're quite something—barely fifteen and already a match for a Blood Tempering expert, crippling my wolf cub with one punch. Master Ben Zhen, your Treasure Pearl Temple truly lives up to its name as the martial holy land of Great Yan Kingdom—full of talent indeed!"

General Wang's sharp eyes first swept over Gu Han, as if trying to see through him completely, but then he shifted his tone, turning to Ben Zhen with a sneer and applying pressure:

"But I've heard that the monks of Great Yan's Treasure Pearl Temple are all men of the cloth, upholding compassion, abstaining from anger and wrath. Yet now your temple has produced a vicious, wicked scoundrel like Jingming. How does the Abbot intend to handle this?"

"Amitabha, General speaks too harshly. The Buddha once said: A Bodhisattva has a heart of compassion, but also the wrath of a Vajra!"

Ben Zhen clasped his hands together, intoned a Buddhist chant, and retorted:

"General Wang, your adopted son Wang Lang was about to kill our temple's disciple Jingyuan. Jingming could not stand by and merely gave him a minor lesson as a warning—neither ruining his future prospects nor taking his life. His actions were but carrying out the Buddha's decree. How can you call that vicious or wicked?"

"So you refuse to hand over that little bald donkey Jingming?"

As Ben Zhen's words fell, General Wang's face darkened. His Inner Qi erupted with a roar, compressing the air around him until it seemed to wail, releasing a powerful pressure.

"Amitabha! Jingming is a disciple of this temple—how can he be casually handed over to others for punishment? General, please take your leave!"

Ben Zhen responded with a sharp cry, stirring his Inner Qi from his dantian. The air around him surged violently, matching General Wang's presence blow for blow.

As the saying goes: Even a Buddha has his temper!

General Wang had repeatedly tested his patience, and now he wanted to take away Jingming—whose talent rivaled that of the patriarchs Jueming and Liaokong, and who might one day lead Treasure Pearl Temple to greater glory—to dispose of as he pleased. This was something Ben Zhen could no longer tolerate.

He was gambling now—gambling that General Wang wouldn't dare to turn hostile, gambling that King Tang wouldn't agree to General Wang mobilizing tens of thousands of troops to attack his temple while enemies surrounded them on all sides.

Sure enough, after a few breaths of silence, General Wang's face suddenly shifted from gloom to brightness. He laughed heartily:

"Haha! I've long heard that this generation's Abbot of Great Yan's Treasure Pearl Temple, Master Ben Zhen, is a stubborn man with a backbone of iron. I thought it was just rumor, but now that I've met you today, I see the rumors were true!

Since the Abbot insists on protecting this little monk, I won't force the matter. Consider what just happened a joke. I hope the Abbot and Little Master Jingming won't take it to heart. If the Abbot and the young master ever wish to come down the mountain, do visit my camp—I'll roll out the welcome mat."

General Wang spoke with a smile, as if he hadn't been angry at all.

But in truth, he wasn't angry.

Because in his eyes, whether it was his adopted son Wang Lang or Jingming, they were all just chess pieces in his hand. Now that Jingming had proven to be a far superior piece to Wang Lang, why would he ruin a good piece over a bad one?

As for his earlier demand to hand over Jingming, it was only to kidnap him from Treasure Pearl Temple, slowly train him, and make him serve his own purposes—not out of any dogshit father-son bond with Wang Lang.

Feelings? How much were they worth? What profit could they bring?

Thinking this, General Wang bowed respectfully toward King Tang, who sat in the large sedan like a mountain of flesh, and said deferentially:

"Your Highness, everything is done. Shall we return now?"

"Oh, that's it? Wang Zhongyi, you handled this poorly! You didn't recruit any experts, you didn't build any reputation—you've wasted my trip. Hmph!"

Hearing that the trip was over, the "mountain of flesh" King Tang snorted in displeasure.

"Thud!"

Seeing King Tang's anger, Wang Zhongyi's face turned pale, his body trembling. He immediately dropped to his knees like a collapsing mountain or a toppling pillar, kowtowing repeatedly:

"This subordinate deserves death! This subordinate deserves death! For failing in this task, I beg Your Highness to punish me!"

"Hmph! Get up! Considering the many merits you've earned me in the past, I'll let it slide this time. If you fail again in the future, I won't be lenient!"

Seeing Wang Zhongyi so terrified of him, King Tang's anger subsided considerably. He nodded in satisfaction and spoke.

"Yes, yes, yes! This subordinate thanks Your Highness!"

Wang Zhongyi's face immediately filled with boundless gratitude as he hurriedly expressed his thanks.

"Mm. Let's go!"

"Clang!"

A gong sounded to clear the way. At King Tang's command, a dozen sedan bearers rose and carried the heavy sedan down the mountain.

General Wang, Shi Rui, and the rest followed closely, escorting King Tang. Soon, the entire procession vanished from Treasure Pearl Temple.

"Phew! Amitabha, this matter is finally resolved."

Watching King Tang's party leave, Abbot Ben Zhen let out a heavy breath. His body trembled slightly, but he quickly composed himself. Turning to Gu Han, he said with a smile:

"Jingming, to be honest, this matter was resolved thanks to you. It was because of your intervention that our Treasure Pearl Temple's thousand-year reputation wasn't destroyed in a single day.

And because of you, Jingyuan of the Prajna Hall survived to contribute to his hall in the future. Jingming, your contribution is undeniable. Tell me, what reward would you like? This old monk will do his best to grant it."

Ben Zhen finished, looking at Gu Han with a beaming smile, his eyes full of satisfaction.

The other hall masters nodded in agreement, their faces wreathed in smiles, clearly endorsing the Abbot's words.

Especially the masters of the Prajna Hall and the Arhat Hall—the former's eyes were full of gratitude, the latter's brimming with pride.

Gu Han, not one to overreach, replied humbly:

"Abbot, you flatter me. This calamity was resolved thanks to the efforts of all the hall masters and senior brothers. How could I dare take sole credit? However, I do have a request to make of the Abbot, and I hope you will grant it."

"Oh? What is it?"

Abbot Ben Zhen asked with a smile.

"Your Reverence, I have yet to complete Muscle Tendon Strengthening. Therefore, I wish to request some White Tiger Muscle Tendon Strengthening Pills from the Abbot, to aid in my future martial cultivation at the Muscle Tendon Strengthening level. I hope to complete it soon and begin the path of Blood Tempering."

Gu Han replied respectfully.

"What! White Tiger Muscle Tendon Strengthening Pills? You... you're not yet at Blood Tempering?"

Hearing Gu Han's words, the hall masters' pupils contracted as they exclaimed in shock.