Mist Gradually Clears

Song Qingshu shook his head. "Ming Wang is a good friend of mine. He wouldn't have done it."

Jiumozhi smiled and nodded. After consecutively running into two supreme masters, Xuan Cheng and Xu Zhu, he no longer possessed his earlier arrogance. He knew full well that Shaolin was a place where crouching tigers and hidden dragons abounded, not somewhere he alone could shake. Better to quit while he was ahead; in any case, he had already stolen the show today.

"Song, I think you're deliberately making things difficult!" another eminent monk of the Xuan generation snapped.

"I merely wish to speak with all the eminent monks of your temple who know the Prajna Palm. Is that request truly so excessive?" Song Qingshu stood with his hands behind his back and spoke calmly.

Xuan Ci could not help frowning slightly. "Benefactor Song, I cannot have the monks of my temple treated like criminals under interrogation simply because of a single word from you." At that moment, he could not help secretly regretting his earlier thoughts. Shaolin and Wudang had never been on good terms, and when he had heard that the Wudang heroes had met with trouble, he had even taken some pleasure in their misfortune. Had he proactively offered to help investigate the matter then, it would not only have preserved Shaolin's prestige, but also earned Wudang an enormous favor. But now, if he called out those in the temple who knew the Prajna Palm to confront them, it would inevitably look like he was yielding...

Shaolin had already been left thoroughly humiliated in the previous matches. If they agreed to the other side's request now, once word spread through the martial world, Shaolin's prestige would likely be ruined beyond repair.

But if he refused...

Xuan Ci glanced at Song