Southern Shaolin.
Abbot Xuanci looked at Xuannan's corpse and pressed his palms together. "Amitabha. Xuzhu, take some men and bury your granduncle-master."
For some reason, he always found this very ugly young monk pleasing to the eye.
Beside him, Xuanji's face was stern. "Abbot, although Ding Chunqiu is dead, the Xingxiu Sect still exists. We should send men to wipe it out now, both to avenge Junior Brother Xuannan and to rid the martial world of a scourge."
Of course, it would also improve Southern Shaolin's public image, securing its throne as the leader of Great Song's righteous sects.
The once-great Quanzhen Sect had already declined. Without the Old Urchin Zhou Botong, it would no longer even count as a top sect.
Since Qiao Feng's departure, the Southern Beggars' Gang had weathered repeated upheavals. They had wanted to invite back Hong Qigong, the Nine-Fingered Beggar and former head of the Dirty Clothes Faction, but Hong Qigong had no desire to lead the Southern Beggars' Gang again. He wanted to roam the mountains and rivers, and had instead recommended his disciple Guo Jing as gang leader.
How could Guo Jing compare to Hong Qigong in reputation throughout the Jianghu? He was also nowhere near Qiao Feng in his day. The Southern Beggars' Gang's prestige was now at its lowest.
If Southern Shaolin accomplished a few great deeds now, it could completely overshadow the Southern Beggars' Gang, the Quanzhen Sect, and the others, becoming the sole leader of Great Song's righteous martial world!
Once they destroyed the Xingxiu Sect, which had done evil for years, and had their lay disciples spread the news, Southern Shaolin would surely win praise throughout Great Song's martial world.
Its reputation would even rise considerably in Great Ming and other countries.
Abbot Xuanci shook his head slightly.