The mountain wind howled as Su Haoran moved across the sheer cliff face as though walking on level ground. The Soaring Dragon Startling Swan Art at Perfection had brought his control over his body to an unimaginable level.
The hundred-zhang precipice that Xiong Ba had deemed certain death was effortless to him.
Within a few breaths, Su Haoran had reached the bottom of the cliff. Without pausing in the slightest, his figure turned into a wisp of green smoke once more, melding into the boundless night as he sped toward Prajna Temple.
As he ran, a thought stirred in his mind, and he drew out the spoils he had looted from Ghost Shadow Leopard Cat's room.
He tied the bundle of gold and silver directly around his waist. As for the few martial arts manuals, he flipped through them casually. Most were crude, low-grade Kung Fu, but one thin booklet caught his attention.
There was no title on its cover. Its pages had yellowed with age, yet felt warm and smooth to the touch. Su Haoran opened to the first page and saw several lines written in tiny regular script:
"The key to concealing one's breath lies in turning the existent into the nonexistent, merging one's breath with heaven and earth, and hiding one's spirit within the void..."
"Breath Concealment Art"!
This was not some killing technique, but an exceedingly obscure auxiliary method.
It had only one purpose—conceal the fluctuations of one's Qi and Blood and aura, still one's breath and focus one's mind, reducing one's presence to the absolute minimum.
Once cultivated to a profound level, one could even sneak beneath an expert's very nose without being discovered.
"So that's how it is!" A sharp gleam flashed through Su Haoran's eyes as realization dawned on him.
No wonder Ghost Shadow Leopard Cat had been able to infiltrate the heavily guarded Prajna Temple without anyone noticing. He had relied on this peculiar technique!
Su Haoran's heart stirred. He immediately followed the method described in the booklet and tried to circulate his Qi and Blood.
His control over his body had already reached the pinnacle. After only a slight attempt, he felt the vigorous Qi and Blood that had once blazed through him like a furnace slowly draw inward like the ebbing tide. The solid black-iron sheen on his skin faded as well, and his entire person became utterly ordinary, as if he were nothing more than a common little monk.
"What a treasure!" Su Haoran was overjoyed.
When traveling the martial world, the greatest taboo was laying all one's cards on the table.
Although this Breath Concealment Art could not directly increase his combat strength, its strategic significance was even greater than that of a superior martial art!
With it, he had gained another trump card for hiding his strength. Whether launching surprise attacks, infiltrating, or playing the pig to eat the tiger, he would be unstoppable!
This trip to Crimson Hair Stronghold had truly yielded a bountiful harvest!
Meanwhile, at Prajna Temple's Grand Hall.
The lamps shone brightly, yet the atmosphere was heavy as iron.
Abbot Daoming sat at the head of the hall in his kasaya. His face was lean and refined, and every opening and closing of his eyes carried an innate majesty.
Below him, Elder Xuan Ming, head of the Discipline Hall, the head of the Arhat Hall, and the other temple elders had all gathered. Every one of them wore a grim expression. Behind them stood dozens of elite martial monks from the Arhat Hall, each holding a monk's knife or Zen staff, their killing intent surging.
"Amitabha." Abbot Daoming slowly spoke. His voice was not loud, yet it rang clearly throughout the hall. "Junior Brother Hui Jue has been ambushed, and his life or death remains unknown. This is the greatest humiliation Prajna Temple has suffered in a century. Those bandits of Crimson Hair Stronghold have gone too far!"
"Abbot!" Elder Xuan Ku, head of the Arhat Hall, stepped forward. He was powerfully built, his voice resonant as a great bell. "What are we waiting for? I will lead men there at once, raze Crimson Hair Stronghold to the ground, and bring Junior Brother Hui Jue back!"
"Junior Brother Xuan Ku, calm yourself." Elder Xuan Ming, head of the Discipline Hall, said gravely, "Crimson Hair Stronghold has occupied the Qingyun Mountain Range for many years. It is easy to defend and difficult to attack. If we all pour out in force, we may indeed be able to destroy it, but if they use Junior Brother Hui Jue's life to threaten us, we will be like rats afraid to break a vase and instead fall into passivity."
Upon hearing this, everyone furrowed their brows, anxiety written across their faces.
This was precisely what worried them most.
Fighting on someone else's territory meant being constrained at every turn. On top of that, the enemy held hostages. This battle would be hard to fight!
"No matter what, Junior Brother Hui Jue must be rescued!" A decisive light flashed in Abbot Daoming's eyes. "Transmit my decree. Gather every martial monk in the temple at the Skin Tempering Realm and above. Prepare to..."
Before he could finish, hurried footsteps and irrepressible cries of alarm 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, abruptly rose to their feet, their faces filled with disbelief!
The crowd hurried out of the hall. Under the moonlight, Elder Hui Jue was being supported by two disciples as he slowly climbed the Mountain Gate.
Behind him followed the seven or eight martial monks who had accompanied him. Though every one of them was wounded and unsteady on his feet, not one of them was missing!
"Junior Brother!"
"Elder!"
Abbot Daoming and the elders flashed forward in an instant. Seeing Hui Jue's paper-pale face, Abbot Daoming hurriedly grasped his wrist and sent a surge of dense inner force into him. His expression immediately darkened. "What domineering palm force! It is Xiong Ba's Tablet Splitting Hand!"
"Senior Brother Hui Jue, what exactly happened? How did you escape?" Elder Xuan Ku asked anxiously.
The surrounding monks all crowded around as well, speaking over one another, their concern plain for all to see.
Elder Hui Jue caught his breath, and some color returned to his face.
He looked around at the worried gazes fixed on him, gave a bitter smile, and said hoarsely, "We... were saved by Haoran."
The moment those words left his mouth, the entire hall fell silent.
Everyone wore expressions of astonishment.
Su Haoran?
That disciple from the Labor Courtyard?
"Senior Brother Hui Jue, surely you are mistaken?" one elder said in disbelief. "Although Su Haoran performed exceptionally in the assessment, how could he possibly save you from Crimson Hair Stronghold's encirclement?"
"That's right!" Wujing struggled to speak as well. One of his arms hung in a sling of white cloth, and his face was filled with complicated emotions. "We were surrounded by pursuers in a mountain hollow and on the brink of death. Junior Brother Su killed all more than ten fierce bandits who attacked us with a single punch each! His... his body-tempering Kung Fu may already have reached Perfection!"
Boom!
Those words were like an enormous boulder crashing into a still lake, stirring up a thousand towering waves!
"Body-tempering Kung Fu at Perfection?!"
"How is that possible? How long has he been cultivating?"
"Nephew Wujing, are your injuries too severe? Did you see wrongly?"
Cries of shock and doubt rose one after another.
Every martial monk present had cultivated bitterly for many years and understood full well how difficult body-tempering Kung Fu was.
To have Qi and Blood flow freely through the entire body, becoming impervious to blades and spears—that was a realm many martial monks could never attain in their entire lives!
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 his own eyes. There can be no mistake! Not only did he save us, he also said... he was going to uproot the weeds and eliminate the roots. He pursued Crimson Hair Stronghold alone!"
The entire crowd erupted once more!
"What? He went to Crimson Hair Stronghold by himself?!"
"Foolishness! Isn't that simply courting death?"
"Alas! Junior Brother Su... he did this to buy us time, sacrificing himself for righteousness!"
"Abbot!" Elder Xuan Ku's gaze turned grave as he made his request once more. "Su Haoran has rendered great service to our temple and is now in deadly danger. How can we stand by and do nothing? I am willing to issue a military pledge. If I fail to bring Su Haoran back, I, Xuan Ku, will return with my head in hand!"
"Yes! Save Junior Brother Su!"
"Raze Crimson Hair Stronghold!"
The martial monks were stirred into a frenzy, their fighting spirit soaring!
A flicker of grief and resolve passed through Abbot Daoming's eyes as well, and he was just about to give the order.
At that moment, a calm voice came from behind the crowd.
"Elders, Martial Uncles, there is no need to panic. I'm back."
Before you continue