Tiger Tamer Finally Falls into a Pit of Shit Too

The blow did not hurt, but it was exhausting. Tiger Tamer had never imagined someone would send him a Primordial Spirit Transmission, much less catch him so completely off guard. What really wore him down was the contempt on Yan Kong's face.

He had just been asked if he knew how, and now this happened. In the little monk's eyes, Tiger Tamer was a braggart. Would it have killed him to admit he was not good at it? Look—now it had blown up in his face.

And so the supposedly all-powerful Tiger Tamer fell into a deep pit after Big Chef appeared. Yan Fa's mouth hung open. He had no idea how to comfort him. Tiger Tamer was an Arhat, after all. How powerful was he supposed to be?

Tiger Tamer's heart ached. His Arhat Golden Body could withstand a blow, but not that knife-sharp look from a child. Damn it. He could barely meet Yan Kong's eyes.

He could only smile bitterly to himself. "Fellow cultivator, you may not know this, but we came out today for our coursework: helping the mortals near Spirit Mountain. We aren't allowed to use magic." From that one question, Tiger Tamer knew the man was not from the Buddhist School. Anyone from their part of the world would know better than to ask something so ignorant.

They can't use magic? Qin Fen frowned. "Why would the Buddha require that? Wouldn't displaying miracles, gathering incense offerings, and winning the people's hearts help more?" Qin Fen did not understand. If it were him—or anyone with ambition—he would use his power. Look abroad: one miracle, and believers flocked in. Why do the opposite? It was slower and seemed far less rewarding.

Tiger Tamer understood. This strange fellow was probably from the Daoist School or the Demon