Breath Concealment Art! Bring Your Head!

The mountain wind howled, but Su Haoran's figure moved across the steep cliff face as if on level ground. The Perfection realm of the Soaring Dragon Startling Swan Art had granted him an incredible level of control over his body.

What Xiong Ba had seen as a certain death fall from a hundred-zhang cliff was, to Su Haoran, effortless.

Within a few breaths, Su Haoran had reached the bottom of the cliff. Without pausing, his figure transformed into a wisp of smoke once more, merging into the vast night as he sped towards Prajna Temple.

As he ran, a thought crossed his mind, and he took out the spoils he'd plundered from the Ghost Shadow Leopard Cat's lair.

He tied the gold and silver pouches around his waist. As for the martial arts manuals, he flipped through them casually. Most were crude, low-tier techniques. Only one thin booklet caught his attention.

The cover of the booklet was blank, and the paper was yellowed and felt smooth to the touch. Su Haoran opened the first page and saw a few lines written in tiny, elegant script:

"The essence of breath concealment lies in transforming the tangible into the intangible, merging one's qi with heaven and earth, and hiding one's spirit within the void…"

Breath Concealment Art!

This was not a combat technique, but a highly specialized auxiliary skill.

It had only one purpose: to suppress one's own Blood Essence fluctuations and aura, to hold one's breath and focus the mind, reducing one's presence to the absolute minimum.

When cultivated to a profound level, one could even sneak past the eyes of a master without being detected.

"So that's how it is!" Su Haoran's eyes flashed with a sharp light, and he instantly understood.

No wonder the Ghost Shadow Leopard Cat could sneak into the heavily guarded Prajna Temple without anyone noticing. It relied on this peculiar technique!

A thought stirred within Su Haoran, and he immediately followed the method described in the booklet, attempting to circulate his Blood Essence.

His control over his body had already reached a state of mastery. With just a slight attempt, he felt the vigorous Blood Essence within him, which had been like a roaring furnace, slowly recede like a retreating tide. The solid, black iron sheen on his skin also vanished, and his entire being became unremarkable, as if he were just an ordinary young monk.

"What a treasure!" Su Haoran rejoiced inwardly.

When traveling the martial world, the worst thing one could do was reveal all their trump cards.

Although the Breath Concealment Art couldn't directly increase combat power, its strategic significance was even greater than a top-tier martial art!

With it, he now had an additional trump card for hiding his strength. Whether for surprise attacks, infiltration, or playing the underdog, it would be incredibly useful!

This trip to Crimson Hair Stronghold had been truly fruitful!

Meanwhile, at Prajna Temple, in the Great Hero Hall.

The hall was brightly lit, but the atmosphere was as heavy as iron.

Abbot Daoming, clad in his kasaya, sat at the head seat. His face was lean and refined, and his eyes held an inherent majesty when they opened and closed.

Below him, the Abbot of the Discipline Hall, the Abbot of the Arhat Hall, and a group of the temple's elders were gathered. Each of them had a solemn expression. Behind them stood dozens of elite Martial Monks from the Arhat Hall, each armed with Monk's Knives and Zen staffs, radiating a murderous aura.

"Amitabha," Abbot Daoming spoke slowly. His voice was not loud but clearly echoed throughout the hall. "Junior Brother Hui Jue was attacked, and his life is unknown. This is a grave humiliation for Prajna Temple that has not occurred in a hundred years. The bandits of Crimson Hair Stronghold have gone too far!"

"Abbot!" Elder Xuan Ku, the Abbot of the Arhat Hall, stepped forward. He was burly, and his voice boomed like a gong. "What are we waiting for? I will immediately lead my men to raze Crimson Hair Stronghold and rescue Junior Brother Hui Jue!"

"Junior Brother Xuan Ku, please calm yourself," Elder Xuan Ming, the Abbot of the Discipline Hall, said gravely. "Crimson Hair Stronghold has been entrenched in the Qingyun Mountain Range for years; it is easy to defend and difficult to attack. If we all go, we can certainly annihilate them. However, if they use Junior Brother Hui Jue's life as a threat, we will be hesitant to act and find ourselves in a passive position."

Everyone present frowned, their faces filled with worry.

This was precisely their greatest concern.

Fighting on enemy territory meant being constrained at every turn, and with a hostage in hand, this battle would be difficult to win!

"No matter what, Junior Brother Hui Jue must be rescued!" Abbot Daoming's eyes flashed with determination. "Issue my decree: gather all Martial Monks in the temple at the Skin Tempering Realm and above, and prepare…"

Before he could finish speaking, hurried footsteps and suppressed exclamations suddenly came from outside the hall!

"They're back! Elder Hui Jue and the others are back!"

What?!

Everyone in the hall, including Abbot Daoming, suddenly stood up, their faces filled with disbelief!

They rushed out of the hall and saw, under the moonlight, Elder Hui Jue being supported by two disciples as he walked towards the mountain gate.

Behind him followed the seven or eight accompanying Martial Monks. Although each of them was injured and their steps were unsteady, not a single one was missing!

"Junior Brother!"

"Elder!"

Abbot Daoming and the elders flashed forward and reached them. Looking at Hui Jue's deathly pale face, Daoming quickly took his wrist and channeled a surge of powerful internal energy into him. His expression immediately darkened. "What a domineering palm strike! It's Xiong Ba's 'Tablet Splitting Hand'!"

"Senior Brother Hui Jue, what exactly happened? How did you escape?" Elder Xuan Ku asked urgently.

The surrounding monks also crowded around, speaking at once, their concern evident.

Elder Hui Jue took a breath, and his complexion improved slightly.

He looked around, saw the worried gazes of everyone, and gave a wry smile. His voice was hoarse as he said, "We… were saved by Haoran."

At his words, the entire hall fell silent.

Everyone looked surprised.

Su Haoran?

The disciple from the Labor Courtyard?

"Senior Brother Hui Jue, are you sure?" an elder asked incredulously. "Although Su Haoran performed exceptionally well in the assessment, how could he have saved you from Crimson Hair Stronghold's encirclement?"

"Yes!" Wujing struggled to speak, his arm in a sling, his face a complex mixture of emotions. "We were surrounded by pursuers in the mountain hollow, on the brink of death. It was Junior Brother Su alone, with a single punch, who annihilated over ten ferocious bandits that attacked us! His… his Hardening technique, it must have reached Perfection!"

Boom!

These words, like a massive boulder dropped into a calm lake, stirred up a thousand-foot wave!

"Hardening technique at Perfection?!"

"How is that possible! How long has he been cultivating?"

"Nephew Wujing, are you perhaps too injured and saw incorrectly?"

Exclamations and doubts rose one after another.

Every Martial Monk present had cultivated diligently for many years and deeply understood the difficulty of Hardening techniques.

Blood Essence flowing through the entire body, making one impervious to blades and spears – that was a realm many Martial Monks could never reach in their lifetime!

How old was Su Haoran? How could it be possible!

Elder Hui Jue took a deep breath and said solemnly, "This old monk saw it with my own eyes, there is absolutely no falsehood! Not only did he save us, but he also said… he was going to cut the weeds and eliminate the roots, pursuing Crimson Hair Stronghold alone!"

As soon as this was said, the entire place erupted in an uproar again!

"What? He went to Crimson Hair Stronghold alone?!"

"Nonsense! Isn't that a suicide mission?"

"Alas! Junior Brother Su… he's doing this to buy us time, sacrificing himself for righteousness!"

"Abbot!" Elder Xuan Ku's eyes were grave as he requested again, "Su Haoran has rendered a great service to our temple, and now he is in mortal danger. How can we stand idly by! I am willing to sign a military order; if Su Haoran cannot be rescued, I, Xuan Ku, will present my head!"

"Right! Let's go save Junior Brother Su!"

"Level Crimson Hair Stronghold!"

The Martial Monks were filled with righteous indignation, their fighting spirit soaring!

Abbot Daoming's eyes also flashed with a hint of pain and determination as he was about to give the order.

Just then, a calm voice came from the back of the crowd.

"Esteemed Elders and Martial Uncles, there's no need to panic, I've returned."