One Prajna Palm, Seven Fists Defeat the Enemy

"Who's got the nerve to come cause trouble at my Plainclothes Sect?!"

With a thunderous shout, the gates flew open, and more than ten people streamed out, lining up on either side of the entrance.

The man at the front was thin and gaunt, with high cheekbones and narrow eyes that radiated shrewdness and gloom. Around fifty years old, he wore a dark brocade robe cinched with a broad belt. His steps were steady and composed. He was surely Chen Tong, master of the Plainclothes Sect.

Close behind him followed a young man in luxurious robes. His features were fairly handsome, but his triangular eyes ruined the overall impression, giving him a frivolous air.

The moment the young man spotted the young monk standing before the gate, he stepped forward and pointed at Zhu Yingxiong as he shouted:

"You're the monk who wants to challenge my father?"

"That's right." Zhu Yingxiong stood with his palms together, his expression calm as still water. "I heard that Sect Master Chen is a renowned figure in Luoyang's martial world. This humble monk has come down from the mountain to travel the world and seek instruction."

The richly dressed youth was about to speak again when Chen Tong raised a hand to stop him.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked the young monk up and down before slowly saying, "Are you Shaolin's distinguished disciple, young master Yuan Zhen?"

"This humble monk is indeed Yuan Zhen," Zhu Yingxiong replied.

At those words, Chen Tong's expression suddenly darkened, and a trace of wariness flashed through his eyes.

"It's him!" someone in the crowd said. "The Shaolin monk Tan Yingshou tried to ambush and kill a few days ago?"

"I heard the master of Ten Evils Manor knocked him into the Luo River, yet he didn't die?"

"To escape from a Black List expert, this little monk must have real skill."

"Heh, looks like we're in for a good show today."

Seeing his father's expression change, the richly dressed youth jumped out again and shouted:

"Who cares who you are?! This isn't a place where you can run wild!"

Zhu Yingxiong did not even spare him a glance. He only stared at Chen Tong, his tone as calm as ever.

"Does Sect Master Chen not dare accept my challenge?"

Chen Tong's facial muscles twitched slightly at those words, and his expression grew even darker.

In full view of everyone, he had been challenged face-to-face by a junior. If he dared not accept, how could Chen Tong continue to hold his head high in Luoyang? The Plainclothes Sect's reputation would be ruined in his hands.

But when he thought of the little monk's identity before him...

More and more spectators gathered on the long street, crowding three deep inside and three deep outside until the open space before the Plainclothes Sect was packed tight.

Many people in Luoyang knew full well of the evil deeds committed by the Plainclothes Sect. They simply dared not speak out in ordinary times. Now that Chen Tong had yet to answer, people in the crowd began to jeer, and boos rose from all sides.

How could the richly dressed youth endure it any longer?

"If you want to challenge my father, you're not qualified! Get past me first!"

Before his words had faded, his body flashed as he leaped forward. Chen Tong reached out to stop him, but it was already too late.

The youth's lightness skill was quite good. He sprang into the air with clean, agile movements and closed in on Zhu Yingxiong in the blink of an eye. Yet on closer inspection, the bags beneath his eyes were dark, his complexion had a sickly bluish cast, and his lips were dusky. It was clear he had indulged too deeply in drink and women.

He showed no mercy from the very first move, his five fingers hooked like claws as they seized straight for Zhu Yingxiong's face!

Zhu Yingxiong neither dodged nor retreated. His right fist shot up, its knuckles meeting the youth's wrist with perfect precision.

With just one strike, the youth's five fingers trembled, and his claw technique instantly collapsed. His entire arm was jolted upward, leaving his chest wide open.

Then the second punch arrived—

Thud!

With a muffled impact, the richly dressed youth took a solid punch to the chest and flew backward.

He crashed onto his back before Chen Tong with a thump, blood spraying wildly from his mouth.

"Ohhh!"

A wave of startled cries erupted from the crowd. No one had expected the son of the Plainclothes Sect's master to be so useless, taken down in only two punches!

"Kang'er!"

Chen Tong's face drained of color. He hurriedly bent down and helped his son up. Seeing blood continuing to pour from the youth's mouth and his face pale as paper, he cried out in anguish, "My son!"

This was his only son, whom he had spoiled since childhood. Watching him suffer such grievous injuries before his own eyes, how could Chen Tong not be consumed by rage?

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the killing intent in his heart, and ordered those at his side:

"Carry him inside. Fetch a doctor!"

Once his son had been carried away, he slowly rose to his feet. His eyes locked onto Zhu Yingxiong, his gaze cold and sinister.

"Little monk, what vicious methods!"

"Fists and feet have no eyes. Injuries are unavoidable when people fight." Zhu Yingxiong's expression did not change, and his voice remained calm. "Sect Master Chen, your son showed no mercy when he attacked just now."

"Enough nonsense!"

Chen Tong shouted furiously, and his aura surged at once.

"Let's settle this with our hands!"

Before the words had fallen, he had leaped into the air like an eagle pouncing on a rabbit, striking directly at Zhu Yingxiong's face with a palm from midair!

His palm force howled, the wind shrieking sharply. The momentum behind that strike was terrifying.

Looking closely, his palm had a faint blue-black tint, clearly indicating that he cultivated a special palm art.

Chen Tong was known as the Iron Palm Eagle Claw. Relying on the skills in his hands, he had carved out the Plainclothes Sect's great reputation in Luoyang. This Black Sand Palm was his trump card—overbearing in force and laced with deadly poison.

Yet Zhu Yingxiong neither dodged nor retreated, raising his palm to meet it.

Chen Tong secretly rejoiced at the sight. This brat actually dares to take it head-on. He truly doesn't know the meaning of death! Since he had already struck, he would use his full strength and make this little monk pay in blood!

The surrounding spectators held their breath. One palm came whistling in, fierce beyond compare; the other was silent and plain, utterly unadorned. Comparing the two, the outcome seemed obvious.

Bang—

The two palms collided with a muffled boom!

A fierce gust burst outward, sweeping up a ring of dust from the ground. The spectators hurriedly stepped back, yet their eyes remained fixed on the fight.

The instant their palms met, Chen Tong felt that the poisonous palm force he had unleashed failed not only to invade his opponent's palm—it was instead rebounded by an incomparably dense force.

His opponent's internal force was vast and continuous. Even the poisonous force of his Black Sand Palm could not break through!

"Step, step, step."

Chen Tong staggered back three steps. Those triangular eyes that had always been narrowed were now wide open, filled with disbelief.

It was not just him. The spectators were stunned as well.

Before the crowd could recover, someone among them clapped his hands and shouted:

"Excellent palm technique! The palm force is solid and restrained, held without being released. Now that is true skill!"

Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a man dressed like a scholar, his eyes shining as he stared intently at Zhu Yingxiong. He could not help praising him again. "I wonder which of Shaolin's peerless palm arts this is? It is truly remarkable!"

This was naturally the Prajna Zen Palm.

Zhu Yingxiong gave Chen Tong no chance to catch his breath.

One palm had barely withdrawn when a fist shot out!

He stepped forward in a bow stance and drove a fist straight at Chen Tong's center. The punch was upright and steady, powerful and heavy. There was nothing fancy about it, yet it carried an imposing, righteous force that could not be stopped.

Chen Tong had no time to think. He bent his arm to block.

Bang!

Fist and arm collided. Chen Tong felt a tremendous force crash down like a mountain collapsing, making his body sway as he involuntarily retreated a step.

Zhu Yingxiong's second punch had already arrived!

Bang!

Chen Tong retreated again.

The third punch!

Bang!

He retreated again.

Zhu Yingxiong advanced one step with every punch, throwing seven punches in succession. Chen Tong raised his arms to ward them off and was driven back seven steps. Each step left a distinct footprint in the ground.

Those hands known as the Iron Palm Eagle Claw could now only shield his body desperately. He had no strength to counterattack and not even a chance to catch his breath.

The scholar-clad man watched with his blood boiling and could not help shouting again:

"Fine fists! Fine fists! Upright and fierce, grand and righteous—this is what a Shaolin peerless art should be!"

"Then do you know what fist technique it is?" someone beside him asked.

The scholar froze, then said awkwardly, "Well... I don't know that."

"Hah!" A chorus of jeers immediately rose around him.

At that moment, Zhu Yingxiong threw his eighth punch.

Bang!

The punch smashed into Chen Tong's crossed arms with a thunderous, muffled crash.

Hah!

Zhu Yingxiong exhaled sharply, and the force behind his fist surged again!

The unstoppable fist force forcibly broke through Chen Tong's arms, leaving his guard wide open.

In the next instant, that fist smashed solidly into his chest!

Thump!

The dull boom was like a war drum, shaking everyone to the core.

Chen Tong slid across the ground, his body nearly pressed flat against it. He skidded a full seven feet, his feet carving two deep furrows into the earth.

"Hmph!" Chen Tong grunted, forcibly steadying himself.

Seeing this, Zhu Yingxiong stepped forward again in a bow stance.