Puff, puff, puff—the sound of blows landing like strikes against rotten leather echoed through the dry, cold air.
Meng Qi knew there was a huge gap between himself and Zhen Miao and had long been mentally prepared to lose. But once they actually crossed hands, he discovered that the gap was astonishingly vast. Even with his strength suppressed to the Minor Qi Accumulation level, and even using only Arhat Fist, he still found himself hopelessly outmatched.
Knowing that Meng Qi had only just achieved the Iron Cloth Shirt, Zhen Miao's fists were precise and ferocious. Every move targeted Meng Qi's temples, eyes, and other vital weak points. Even when faced with the openings Meng Qi deliberately exposed, he remained completely unhurried, giving Meng Qi no chance to trade a minor injury for a major one. Even when presented with an absolutely perfect opportunity, as long as he did not have to attack a vital point, he still kept at least half his strength in reserve for defense.
Although Meng Qi had undergone consecutive real battles and had more or less mastered Arhat Fist, when facing a true expert—and Zhen Miao's swift yet precise changes in technique—he still felt that his mind had arrived before his eyes, or that his eyes had arrived before his hands. If not for relying on the Iron Cloth Shirt to withstand several punches, he would have been defeated long ago. The puffing sounds were the noises of Zhen Miao striking him.
None of these blows had hit a vital point, but under the continuous barrage, Meng Qi still felt a dull, hidden pain.
Of course, this battle also gave Meng Qi an enormous harvest. He felt as though the changes in Arhat Fist were rapidly becoming instincts of his own flesh and blood.
He could not help secretly thanking Jiang Zhiwei for her guidance. If she had not made him exchange for the Iron Body Skill, then while he was still weak and lacking combat experience, he did not know how many failed sparring matches it would have taken him to master a fist technique. Now, with the Iron Body Skill as his shield, one sparring match was equivalent to experiencing many failures. He could slowly settle his mind and turn the fist technique into instinct.
Zhen Miao's fists whipped up a wind, each movement precise and disciplined. Step by step, he forced Meng Qi into a desperate situation, leaving him not even the chance to stake his life on the Iron Cloth Shirt!
No, I have to think of something. In a few more moves, I won't be able to hold him off... Relying on the Iron Cloth Shirt, and knowing this was not a fight to the death, Meng Qi did not panic. He desperately searched for a chance to counterattack.
Suddenly, he noticed that there was an obvious gap on Zhen Miao's left side during this round of attacks—a gap that would let him temporarily break away from the front and catch his breath!
This time, his mind and feet moved as one. With a feint, Meng Qi flashed toward the left.
The instant his body moved, a leg wrapped in white leggings extended from nowhere and kicked straight at Meng Qi's lower abdomen.
Damn it! Meng Qi inwardly cried out. He hurriedly twisted aside to avoid the leg, but at that moment, the wind suddenly rose beside his ear. A fist stopped next to his temple, its force pressing against his head and causing sharp pain.
"Thank you for yielding." Zhen Miao withdrew his right fist and pressed his palms together. A faint smile appeared on his face, as though he had been very intent on washing away yesterday's humiliation.
As Meng Qi reviewed his gains and losses and summarized what he had learned, he returned the salute and said, "Thank you for the guidance, Senior Brother."
Regardless of Zhen Miao's motives, this sparring match had indeed helped him enormously.
Suddenly, inspiration struck him. Thinking of the opening Zhen Miao had deliberately offered just now, Meng Qi realized that if he had used that particular step from Eight Steps of Divine Travel, he could have avoided the snapping kick and instead baited Zhen Miao into revealing a genuine opening.
The moment this thought arose, Meng Qi blurted out, "Senior Brother Zhen Miao, please continue guiding me tomorrow." Sigh, I'm still not familiar enough with Eight Steps of Divine Travel. I only thought of it now!
Huh? The martial monks seemed not to have heard clearly. One after another, they looked toward Meng Qi. Did he actually dare challenge Senior Brother Zhen Miao?
"If you cannot withstand ten moves from me tomorrow, do not bring up guidance again in the future." Zhen Miao froze for a moment, then slowly nodded.
On the road to the dining hall.
"Tsk, have you become addicted to taking a beating?" Zhen Yong looked Meng Qi up and down, left and right, as if he had never met him before.
Zhenhui looked at Zhen Yong in confusion. "Senior Brother Zhen Yong, aren't all great heroes like this? They never admit defeat!"
Zhen Yong gave Meng Qi a strange look. What kind of bizarre story have you been telling Little Junior Brother this time?
Meng Qi knew his actions had been too strange, so he did not hide the truth. "Senior Brother Zhen Yong, I just thought of a secret move that could be used in that situation, so I blurted it out."
"You weren't familiar with that secret move? You only remembered it after the sparring match..." Zhen Yong understood the hidden meaning in Meng Qi's words.
Meng Qi nodded and said thoughtfully, "I'll have to find someone to spar with at the Martial Arts Hall later."
After dinner, Meng Qi sat in meditation and cultivated the Shaolin Heart Method for a while before impatiently entering the Martial Arts Hall.
He glanced around, and a smile immediately appeared on his face. He had spotted Zhen Liang sparring with a martial monk. His expression was savage and his attacks fierce, as if he wanted to vent all the pent-up frustration and fury from yesterday.
Meng Qi slowed his steps and circled over. The martial monk was no match for Zhen Liang and was suppressed by his momentum. Before long, he was struck by one punch after another until his eyes were blackened and his face swollen.
"Haha." After watching that martial monk stumble out the door, Zhen Liang laughed heartily. But just then, he felt a tremendous force slam into his back. Unable to stop himself, he knocked over a martial monk opposite him.
"Well, well, Junior Brother, you're getting more arrogant by the day. You actually dared to ram me with your back? Come, let's have a practice match."
That hateful, detestable voice! Zhen Liang's body went rigid. He slowly turned around, intending to put up a brave front, but the words escaped his mouth of their own accord. "Senior Brother, I already have an opponent."
"Is that so? I saw him leave just now. How about this? I'll give you the time it takes an incense stick to burn to catch your breath." Meng Qi spoke with a beaming smile. His current appearance was delicate and exquisitely handsome, but in Zhen Liang's eyes, he looked like a demon.
Zhen Liang looked around. Apart from several martial monks he was friendly with, everyone else was standing far away. He had at least some loyalty and did not wish to drag his friends into the water. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Senior Brother, let's begin now!"
Seeing Zhen Liang's expression—that of someone who wanted to die sooner and be reincarnated sooner—Meng Qi smiled. Then his expression turned solemn, and with a loud shout, he attacked first.
An incense stick later.
"Senior Brother, I admit defeat! Isn't admitting defeat enough?" Zhen Liang lay on the ground like a dead dog, unwilling to stand again.
Meng Qi stroked the faint stubble on his chin and nodded with a face full of smiles. "That's enough."
At least he had truly mastered that particular step from Eight Steps of Divine Travel. As long as Zhen Yong did not use martial arts beyond Arhat Fist, he could definitely give him a "surprise"!
Hearing Meng Qi's words, Zhen Liang felt as if he had been granted an amnesty. He hurriedly scrambled up and fled outside.
After running a few steps, he suddenly stopped and said with forced calm, "My elder brother is a Disciplinary Monk of the Discipline Institute."
"Oh? You've learned to call for your family?" Meng Qi said with a half-smile.
His strangely worded reply was completely beyond Zhen Liang's expectations. He was stunned for a moment, not knowing how to respond.
With the pressure of life and death in the Reincarnation World and abundant resources at his disposal, Meng Qi did not care much about a Disciplinary Monk. He chuckled and said, "Senior Brother, my monastic name is Zhen Yong. I walk straight and act upright. If I violate the rules, I'll willingly accept punishment. Junior Brother, why haven't you left? Do you want to practice a little longer?"
Zhen Liang was so frightened that he rolled and crawled away. He had "dominated" the Martial Arts Hall for more than a year, yet he had never seen anyone who was this unafraid of a Disciplinary Monk!
"Zhen, Zhen Yong? Junior Brother, are you ill?" The Zhen Yong beside him asked blankly. Why was he calling himself Zhen Yong?
Meng Qi glanced at him. "I was just having a little fun. Our builds and appearances are quite different. No one would mistake us."
Sigh, humor was no fun when nobody appreciated it.
The next day, after practice ended again, Meng Qi impatiently stepped forward and saluted. "Please give me your guidance, Senior Brother."
The martial monks, including Zhende, had been waiting for this from the beginning. Yet when it actually happened, they still found it unbelievable. Had Zhending's brain been chewed on by a dog? How dare he repeatedly challenge Senior Brother Zhen Miao!
Could he have relied on Senior Brother Zhen Miao not knowing his abilities and gotten lucky once, then decided that he stood on equal footing with a strength-suppressed Zhen Miao?
He truly did not know how high the heavens were or how deep the earth was!
Yesterday was the true display of the gap between them!
Zhen Miao kept a straight face, nodded, and assumed his stance, waiting for Meng Qi to attack.
This sparring match was much like yesterday's. Although Meng Qi had gained a deeper grasp of Arhat Fist, the gap between him and Zhen Miao remained enormous. He could only take a few fewer punches before gradually falling into yesterday's predicament once more, being forced step by step into a desperate situation by the unhurried Zhen Miao.
"I knew it! Where did he get the confidence to challenge Senior Brother Zhen Miao?" This battle delighted Zhende.
"Exactly. He really doesn't know how high the heavens are or how deep the earth is." The other martial monks echoed him. They instinctively rejected companions whose behavior was too outrageous. "Senior Brother Zhen Miao will definitely win again, just like yesterday!"
"Victory is certain, but Senior Brother Zhen Miao has always been cautious. He definitely won't use yesterday's move again." Zhende spoke with absolute confidence.
Meng Qi did not wait for Zhen Miao to offer that opening. When he saw Zhen Miao's left shoulder sink slightly, he suddenly took the punch head-on with his shoulder and launched a fierce attack against Zhen Miao's right side.
Zhen Miao had strength in reserve and did not commit fully to the move. He shifted with the momentum, slipping past Meng Qi's charge, then unleashed Double Peaks Piercing the Ears, striking straight toward Meng Qi's temples.
Suddenly, his vision blurred, and Meng Qi vanished from sight!
It was not that Meng Qi had moved too quickly. Rather, as his body dipped and turned, the direction and position he chose were completely beyond Zhen Miao's expectations. The movement was so strange that Zhen Miao's attention failed to keep up, creating the illusion that Meng Qi had disappeared.
Damn it! The thought had only just arisen when Meng Qi, sliding and turning, had already passed by him, their backs facing each other.
At the same time, Meng Qi drove back his right iron elbow, smashing it viciously into Zhen Miao's back.
Thud! Meng Qi's elbow struck Zhen Miao's back, but it felt as though there were no substance beneath it. He turned his head halfway and glanced from the corner of his eye, only to see Zhen Miao's monk robe billowing outward, dispersing most of the force.
This isn't something someone in the Qi Accumulation Realm can accomplish! Meng Qi's heart stirred. He smoothly withdrew his hand and smiled. "Thank you for yielding, Senior Brother. You're truly formidable."
Zhen Miao's face turned iron-gray. He was furious at losing again.
"We'll fight again tomorrow."
There was a trace of unwillingness in his voice, as though he had begun treating Meng Qi as a genuine opponent.
Their exchange had been as swift as a startled rabbit and a swooping falcon, dazzling the eye. Before Zhende and the other martial monks could react, the victor had already been decided. For a while, they stared blankly at Zhen Miao and Meng Qi, feeling as though everything had happened in a dream, too unreal to believe.
After a while, their gazes toward Meng Qi truly changed into ones of respect and wariness.
Regardless of what methods he had used, the fact that he had defeated Senior Brother Zhen Miao a second time proved that Zhending possessed extraordinary abilities!
"Impressive! I can hardly believe you've only been learning Arhat Fist for such a short time." After practice ended, Zhen Yong caught up with Meng Qi and Zhenhui, looking as if he had come to know him anew.
Meng Qi was faintly pleased with himself. He shamelessly declared, "This Junior Brother has a bit of talent for martial arts."
He could hardly say it was because of the Reincarnation World.
"Are you going to the Martial Arts Hall again later?" Zhen Yong asked.
Meng Qi nodded forcefully. "Of course. I still have to prepare for tomorrow's sparring match with Senior Brother Zhen Miao."
After dinner, Meng Qi practiced his internal energy, then entered the Martial Arts Hall on schedule.
The instant he stepped inside, he saw Zhen Liang's expression tighten. He pulled a martial monk beside him over for a sparring match and attacked slowly, as though he wanted to keep fighting until the end of time.
The other martial monks who were close to Zhen Liang also hurriedly found people to spar with, denying Meng Qi any opportunity to "provoke" them.
"Why do I feel like some evil man who bullies men and oppresses women..." After a moment of silence, Meng Qi said, "Heh heh, this feeling isn't bad!"
Zhen Yong was unusually cooperative this time and laughed. "The evil monk Zhending!"
For the next month, Meng Qi spent his days challenging Zhen Miao and being challenged in return. He lost more often than he won. At night, he practiced in the Martial Arts Hall. By the latter half of the month, he felt that the martial monks there were no longer challenging enough, so he entered the Martial Arts Chamber, where he was beaten until he was disheveled and battered, yet he enjoyed it immensely because his progress in internal energy, fist and foot techniques, and saber arts was remarkably clear!
"You'll be guarding the key routes to the Back Mountain tonight." At noon that day, Xuan Chi came over to announce a mission.
Seeing everyone's confusion, Zhen Miao explained, "The Back Mountain suppresses the demons and monsters subdued by Shaolin throughout the years. Someone needs to guard it at all times. Don't worry. The uncles and senior brothers from the Damo Courtyard and Bodhi Courtyard are guarding the inner area. You only need to patrol the perimeter and perform basic security."
"Demons and monsters?" Meng Qi drew in a quiet breath.
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