Dirty Tricks

In the blink of an eye, the two had exchanged several moves. When the Shaolin monks saw that the temple's foremost master had been struck from the very start, their faces changed in alarm. Only a few, such as Xuan Ci, remained calm.

Jiumozhi was feeling exceedingly pleased with himself when he suddenly heard a cold laugh from across from him. "You claim to be proficient in Shaolin's Seventy-two Ultimate Skills, yet this Great Vajra Fist of yours is nothing special."

Jiumozhi's heart jolted. He hurriedly looked toward the voice and saw Xuan Cheng standing where he had been, a faint smile on his face. There was not the slightest sign of injury.

Jiumozhi was vastly experienced. Without saying a word, he seized the moment when his opponent's true qi leaked out as he spoke. With a flash, he appeared before Xuan Cheng. His legs lashed out in succession, kicking six times in an instant, every strike landing on Xuan Cheng's chest. It was one of Shaolin's Seventy-two Ultimate Skills, the Shadow-Following Leg. Once one kick was launched, the second followed like a shadow; the second then transformed from shadow into form, while the third became a shadow again and followed close behind. This continued until the sixth kick. Only then did the weaker experts in the crowd react, and they were all horrified. This foreign monk had cultivated the Shadow-Following Leg to an astonishing level. In all of Shaolin Temple, there was likely no one with greater mastery of it.

Jiumozhi felt that his kicks had not truly connected and knew something was amiss. Without giving Xuan Cheng any chance to catch his breath, he thrust out two fingers in succession with sharp hissing sounds. It was the Duo Luo Finger Technique.

Xuan Cheng seemed stunned, showing no reaction