Yanan Prefecture

Yanan Prefecture borders Western Xia.

The last war took place not far away at Sanchuan Pass, where the Song army suffered a crushing defeat.

Heading west from Henan, Tianming led Li Su and the others straight toward Yanan Prefecture, the designated gathering place for the martial arts practitioners this time.

The straight-line distance was nearly a thousand li, yet it took them only five days to stand outside the walls of Yanan Prefecture.

Hoo!

Exhaling a long breath, Li Su gained an entirely new understanding of martial arts.

Five days meant covering over two hundred li per day, and that was only to accommodate them; otherwise, the monk Tianming leading the group could likely have traveled even faster.

Once they began the journey, the terrifying utility of qi became apparent.

Like a perpetual motion machine, they climbed mountains and crossed ridges from dawn till dusk. Even when they stopped to rest at nightfall, despite being drenched in sweat, they ended up only slightly fatigued with their legs feeling a bit sore.

After practicing their internal arts overnight until dawn, they would wake up the next day feeling refreshed, as if lactic acid simply didn't accumulate in their bodies.

It was no wonder that after news of Western Xia mobilizing its troops arrived, the monk Tianming had remained unhurried, letting them prepare for over a month; there was a clear, vast difference between martial artists and ordinary people.

Even now, having arrived in Yanan Prefecture after more than a month, Western Xia had only just begun to deploy its main forces to the four regions bordering the Song Dynasty: Yinzhou, Longzhou, Hongzhou, and Yanzhou.

These four prefectures generally bordered Yanan Prefecture, with only Yinzhou situated closer to the direction of Taiyuan Prefecture.

Because of this, the Song Dynasty had summoned its troops, gathering them at the three locations of Qingzhou, Yanan Prefecture, and Yongle City to confront the impending military conflict.

Initially, Li Su had been somewhat surprised.

At such a critical juncture, it stood to reason that the Song officials should have monitored or even prohibited the gathering of martial artists like them.

Yet, in reality, after arriving in Yanan Prefecture, Li Su discovered that not only were they under no restrictions, but the garrison soldiers also displayed looks of reverence upon hearing they were masters from the Shaolin Temple.

What the hell was this?

Was there a connection between the pugilistic world and the imperial court?

Facing the puzzled expressions of Li Su and the others, the monk Tianming said directly, "The borders of the Song Dynasty have been in constant turmoil. Not to mention Western Xia, we have fought countless battles with the Liao Kingdom. In most major campaigns, martial artists from the Central Plains participate, fighting against the Western Xia First Class or the Divine Mountain of the Liao Kingdom. The authorities know of our existence and provide us with certain conveniences during times of major war."

The Liao Kingdom's Divine Mountain?

What kind of hellish organization was that?

Li Su was somewhat bewildered, finding that the story of Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils, which he should have been so familiar with, was becoming increasingly strange.

However, upon second thought, it made sense.

Western Xia had the First Class, so why wouldn't the Liao Kingdom have something similar?

Under the qualitative change brought about by qi, a country without a corresponding martial force was essentially courting death.

Once a battle began, if one side sent experts to carry out decapitation tactics and the other had no masters to defend them, they would be dreaming if they thought they could survive.

Upon entering Yanan Prefecture, they were met by a middle-aged man, two old beggars wearing clothes covered in patches, and a young man.

What caught one's attention were the two old beggars; their outer garments were tattered, with nine cloth bags hanging from their bodies, and their presence was extremely intense—clearly, they were people who had achieved great mastery.

As for the middle-aged man leading them, his presence was even more intense than that of the monk Tianming.

He walked with the stride of a dragon and the gait of a tiger, an unforgettable sight.

The middle-aged man walked straight over, cupped his hands, and said, "I received word from my disciples that monks from Shaolin Temple had arrived, but I did not expect Master Tianming to lead the group himself. Please forgive my lack of a proper welcome."

The monk Tianming pressed his palms together and said, "Amitabha, why trouble yourself to come out and welcome us, Chief Guan? I am ashamed, truly ashamed!"

Li Su and the others raised their eyebrows. Chief Guan? With two nine-bag old beggars following behind him, his identity was self-evident. The middle-aged man must be the current Chief of the Beggar Sect, the man who initiated the campaign to punish Western Xia: Guan Tiannan.

After a brief chat, Chief Guan gestured with his hand and said, "Master Tianming, please come inside for a talk. Jiantong, you take the young masters to rest."

"Understood, Master!" The young man who had come along nodded.

"Very well!" The monk Tianming nodded, then turned to look at Li Su and the others. "Xuanjie, you take your junior brothers to get settled."

"Yes, Master."

Xuanjie nodded.

Xuanjie was the eldest among the Xuan-generation disciples who had come this time. He was from the first batch of Xuan-generation disciples, even older than Xuanxin, and his strength was among the best of the generation, on par with Xuanxin.

Jiantong?

In the group, Li Su glanced at the young man who had spoken. That must be Wang Jiantong, right? The future Chief of the Beggar Sect.

The one who, along with Xuanci, was thoroughly sabotaged by Murong Bo.

However, this guy was luckier; he died of illness. Otherwise, given Xiao Yuanshan's personality, he would have certainly met a miserable end.

Of course, perhaps if this guy hadn't died, Xiao Feng's identity wouldn't have been exposed so early, and the subsequent series of changes might not have occurred.

Once the monk Tianming and Guan Tiannan had departed, Wang Jiantong walked over and said.

"Greetings, young masters. I am Wang Jiantong, an eighth-generation disciple of the Beggar Sect. Please, follow me..."

To think we could actually stay in a place like this?

Li Su touched his cheek, surveying an inn that would easily be rated three or four stars in the real world.

The inn was massive; the ground-floor lobby alone spanned several hundred square meters, scattered with a number of people dressed in rather peculiar attire.

As Li Su and his companions entered, many heads turned their way, and the sound of conversation abruptly ceased.

"Young masters, we have arranged the Heaven-tier suites for you. Please, follow me this way."

Wang Jiantong did not leave immediately upon entering the inn; instead, he personally guided them toward the guest rooms.

"Tsk, a Beggar Sect genius acting as a guide, and Heaven-tier suites to boot. I wondered who it could be, but it turns out to be the Shaolin Temple, still living off its past glory."

A voice rang out, grating and harsh.

The speaker was a young man in a black brocade robe sitting at one of the tables in the lobby.

"This is the Song-Xia war, yet the Shaolin Temple is truly amusing—sending a bunch of 'children' over. They really live up to their reputation as the 'titans' of the martial arts world!"

As the words fell, the expressions of Xuancheng and the others shifted instantly.

Undoubtedly, their mental fortitude had not yet reached the point where they could remain indifferent to being mocked to their faces.

"Wang Er, shut your mouth!"

Wang Jiantong spoke up. As the titan of the Central Plains martial arts world, the Shaolin Temple had always held a revered status. Even if their reputation had waned in recent years—especially with the younger generation failing to make a mark—his master still dared not treat the Shaolin Temple with anything less than the utmost gravity; in fact, he held them in high regard.

Why?

Naturally, because of their strength.

Of all the sects under heaven, one had to admit that the Shaolin Temple's style was the most unconventional.

Most sects thrived on rising stars and a constant stream of prodigies.

The Shaolin Temple did not follow that trend; the sect was of the sort that grew spicier with age. You might think the Shaolin Temple lacked combat power on the surface, but if you truly visited, you would discover just how many hidden dragons and crouching tigers resided there.

To say nothing else, the monk Tianming, who led the team this time, exerted immense pressure on Wang Jiantong—he was on par with his own master.

Wang Jiantong, destined to become the future leader of the Beggar Sect, lacked neither intellect nor strength. What Li Su could see, he naturally realized as well: the Shaolin Temple did not favor slaughter, so it was normal for them to appear slightly weaker than others at the same level.

But his master, Guan Tiannan, had absolutely fought his way to the top, having survived countless life-and-death battles.

And the result? The two were evenly matched?

Furthermore, while Wang Jiantong had initially been dissatisfied with the young age of the Shaolin disciples—this was the Song-Xia war, after all; what could a group of children do?—throughout the journey, his mouth had twitched uncontrollably.

Not to mention the older monks, even those young monks possessed incredibly steady internal energy, and some had likely reached the Circulatory Realm.

Damn it...

Wasn't it said that the Shaolin Temple's style was to get spicier with age?

Wang Jiantong apologized, "My apologies, young masters. The atmosphere of war is growing increasingly intense, and this scoundrel has had a bit too much to drink to steady his nerves. Please, do not take it to heart."

Xuanjie smiled, preparing to say something.

However, Wang Er suddenly stood up, reeking of alcohol, and instead of calming down, he roared, "Brother Wang, I naturally respect you, but what are these little monks? This inn was prepared by the government specifically for the martial arts heroes coming to assist in the war. I lack the strength, so I accept living in the dormitory, but why do they deserve this? Only the most renowned heroes of the pugilistic world are fit for the Heaven-tier suites. They are just a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears little monks! Do they get to stay in the Heaven-tier suites just because of the title 'Titan of the Righteous Path'?"

"If they go in, I, Tong Zhan, will be the first to refuse!!!"

Following Tong Zhan's words, the gazes of everyone in the lobby turned toward them in an instant. Although almost no one spoke, the look in their eyes had changed.

Shaolin Temple, indeed. Even if their reputation hadn't been prominent in the last century, as the titan of the righteous path, they naturally stayed in the Heaven-tier suites.

But a group of little monks—by what right???