Gold Will Always Shine

Arhat Fist, Arhat Gong.

As he practiced day after day, Li Su gradually discovered the profound mysteries hidden within these two martial arts.

Neither nourishing qi nor refining qi was their core.

Their core lay in development—the development of the physical body.

The rigid force of the Arhat Fist was already extremely overbearing; after refining qi through Arhat Gong, this ferocity was undoubtedly enhanced even further.

It was like an iron blade, hammered repeatedly time and time again. While the impurities were beaten out, the edge of the blade became sharper and sharper.

That gang energy grew increasingly sharp as time passed, to the point where, during the circulation of qi, his meridians could barely withstand it.

It was too violent, too tyrannical.

At first, Li Su almost thought he had practiced incorrectly. He hurriedly stopped, not daring to continue his visualization, and even halted his Arhat Fist practice for several days, afraid to increase the amount of his internal energy.

For this reason, he spent many consecutive days chanting Buddhist scriptures incessantly, once believing that his Buddhist practice was insufficient and the martial art's baleful aura was too high. In the end, after chanting for so long, he found it was of no use at all.

Faced with this result, Li Su became conflicted.

Had he practiced it wrong?

He wanted to find someone to ask—no, he should say he wanted to find the monk Tianming to ask if the other party was setting him up. Could this thing really be practiced this way?

After enduring it for a while, Li Su felt he couldn't go on like this. Although his internal energy increased day and night after forming a Circulation Realm, the gap compared to his previous practice was too vast. Having grown accustomed to one year of practice being equivalent to nineteen, being forced back to normal was truly agonizing. He had to remember that his current training was all for the sake of returning to the real world in the future; how could he stop now?

Moreover, the most fatal part was that even during normal growth, he felt as if his qi circulation was like being pricked by needles. He couldn't even sleep well. Well, after all, no one could stand having Rong Momo by their side all day and night, pricking them with needles.

Thus, about a month later, Li Su sought out the monk Tianming.

Seeing Li Su arrive, the monk Tianming steadied the somewhat anxious and wavering mindset he had held for the past month.

It was true; the Arhat Divine Art had been mastered by very few in the past thousand years, and in the last hundred years, not a single person had succeeded. Even he was stuck at the door, unable to enter.

Li Su's Arhat Fist stance training was quite good, but he himself was not bad either; yet, when it came to Arhat Gong, he was equally unable to make any progress.

So be it.

He decided to simply give up on the idea. The Arhat Divine Art would end here. Although it was a bit laughable that the dignified Arhat Hall had no one who could perform this divine art, there was no help for it. It wasn't that the ancients were too clever; it was just that ancient methods were not necessarily suitable for modern practice. After all, ancient rites and laws had basically been abolished by now.

As for what the Abbot had said before, he would recommend Xuancheng.

That kid was good. Not to mention the Vajra Palm, his Great Strength Vajra Palm already had a certain level of mastery. Right, and there was Xuanci, whose progress was also good; he had also entered the threshold of the Great Strength Vajra Palm. With these two little guys, while it wouldn't be accurate to say they could hold up the sky, they were certainly enough to serve as the face of the temple.

After all, Buddhist martial arts were different from those quick-success methods; they emphasized that ginger gets spicier the older it gets, didn't they?

The more he thought about it, the more the monk Tianming felt his mind grow calm, possessing a somewhat transcendent, holy feeling. This was good; he would go chant scriptures later. Perhaps he would have some realization today.

Thinking this, the old monk felt his spirit somewhat sublimated.

It was all his senior brother's fault. He had clearly only intended to go and register the report, without any special thoughts. Even if he had, it was mostly just a small expectation, wanting to see if Li Su could practice any results. As a result, the other party's nonsense had disturbed his Zen heart. Later, he would have to debate with his senior brother. Their Shaolin Temple was a Buddhist sect; how could they be like those people in the jianghu who were filled with baleful energy? As the saying went, "Let them be strong, the bright moon shines on the great river," right? Taking a step back opened up the sky. Covetousness? Was Shaolin Temple's kung fu easy to practice? A calm heart was enough. If you want to practice, then practice. Without understanding Zen principles or Buddhist intent, practicing was just inviting a deviation of qi.

As long as the basic sect-protecting mental cultivation method was protected, nothing else mattered much.

Did one not see that he, this old monk, had practiced the Arhat Divine Art for thirty years and was still hovering at the door?

Looking at the uneasy Li Su, the old monk felt the urge to lecture him.

He had already stated the difficulty of the Arhat Divine Art; it wasn't something one could learn in three or five years. Forget about finding the door—one couldn't even see a shadow.

He immediately said, "Are you unable to enter the threshold? Sigh, Xuankong, I have always thought that among this generation of the 'Xuan' rank, you have the fewest distracting thoughts and are the most capable of enduring loneliness. Your practice of the Arhat Fist is different from the other disciples; they focus more on practicing the fist techniques, while you do not compete or fight, spending your energy on the cultivation itself, mastering the stance and nurturing the rhythm. Because of this, I decided to pass the Arhat Gong to you, feeling that you could calm your heart to practice it.

But look at you. It has only been how long? Less than a month, and you cannot endure it anymore. Since the inception of Arhat Gong, which of the senior monks of past generations who mastered it did not toil painstakingly? Even the rare geniuses in history spent half a year before they could enter the threshold.

You have only practiced for a month; how could you possibly glimpse its true meaning? Very well, if you feel you cannot continue, I can change the method of practice for you."

As he spoke, a look of disappointment appeared on the old monk's face.

Hmm, this wave of education is not bad. If Xuankong has any competitive spirit, he should be able to persist for a while longer.

Practicing martial arts was never easy.

With the Arhat Fist as a foundation, even practicing for thirty or fifty years was acceptable. With enough accumulation, changing methods in his twenties or thirties, and achieving the first-rate level in his forties or fifties was not a dream. After all, their Shaolin Temple did not advocate for the concept of "youthful genius"; they emphasized entering the threshold at thirty or forty, reaching the peak at fifty or sixty, and becoming a supreme master at eighty or ninety.

Recalling his own past, he had been quite decent. At the very least, he had practiced Arhat Gong for a full three years without finding the door, and he couldn't help but ask his master. Although his master had replied that he had a wooden head and should have come after one year if he couldn't succeed, and asked why he persisted after three years? After all, whether one could practice the Arhat Divine Art depended entirely on aptitude. However, being able to persist like that showed his heart was firm enough, so he could be taught the Flower-Plucking Finger.

If the other party went back now and could persist for a year or half a year, he could consider teaching him a unique skill.

Li Su heard this and froze, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

Even rare geniuses needed half a year? If he came forward after only one month, would that be a bit too excessive?

Originally, because he had proposed learning Arhat Gong, he had already caught the old monk's attention. Now, if he said he had mastered it, wouldn't he be targeted for special focus?

So, should he go back?

Go back, my foot! Although the daily needle-pricking sensation wasn't impossible to accept, it was very difficult to practice under such conditions.

Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was that old face of Rong Momo. He really couldn't bear it anymore.

After hesitating for a while, Li Su made his decision.

If it's exposed, so be it.

No matter how impressive, he would at most be comparable to Xuanci; he certainly wouldn't surpass Xuancheng. After all, that kid's Great Strength Vajra Palm already had considerable mastery. That was an advanced martial art, and adding the Vajra Palm—two sets, one low and one high, in just a month—was truly remarkable. With him taking the lead, Li Su should still be within an acceptable range.

Thus, Li Su picked up a charcoal pencil and wrote: "It is not that, Master. I have already mastered the Arhat Gong. I came today because I have a question to ask."

"Is that so? So you've already mastered it."

Monk Tianming nodded with a beaming smile. Little guy, making excuses, are we? Mastered it in a month? What are you thinking? Heh, I understand. Back in the day, I told my own master the exact same thing. It really brings back memories of my youth.

Fine, who hasn't been young? One always needs to save face, even if it's not very clever.

Mastered the Arhat Divine Art? Heh, do you really think that just because your master hasn't mastered it, I don't know what it looks like when one does?

Other martial arts are hard to say, but the Arhat Divine Art is different. Once successfully cultivated, the internal energy compresses again to form Extreme Gang Qi. This energy is so rigid that the practitioner themselves feels as if they are being pricked by needles, as if they are suffering from qi deviation.

Recalling his own excuses from back then, the old monk felt the memory was still fresh; that one flick to the forehead had nearly knocked him senseless.

As he thought about this, he couldn't help but glance at Li Su's small head. Hmm, this little head looks decent; it would probably feel quite satisfying to tap.

"Hmm, what questions do you have?" I'd be a ghost if I believed you, little guy. Don't blame your master; one must be honest.

Li Su inexplicably shivered, feeling as if someone were looking at him with malicious intent. He glanced around but found nothing amiss. After rubbing his little head, he wrote: "After successfully cultivating it, disciple discovered that circulating true energy after meditation feels like being pricked by needles. It has become increasingly intense over the past few times. Especially recently, I haven't even dared to practice the Arhat Fist. Every time I do, I feel my meridians swelling throughout my body, as if the Twelve Standard Meridians are about to be torn apart. Master, have I practiced this wrong?"

Speaking of this, Li Su felt quite helpless.

If the problem hadn't been truly serious, akin to suffering from qi deviation, he would never have wanted to expose it.

As the words fell, Monk Tianming's hand, which had been raised high, suddenly froze in mid-air.

"What did you say?"

Li Su looked at the old monk's raised hand in confusion and wrote, not understanding: "The circulation of energy feels like needle pricks and is getting worse. Master, have I practiced this Arhat Gong wrong?"

Hiss~!!!